Grave Attraction (10 page)

Samuel was still sitting on the passenger side, his hands folded on his lap and a bored expression on his face.

“Can we get my shoes now?” he asked.

Asshole.
He was so looking forward to Samuel's reaction when the snob set foot inside Walmart. “You got it, boss. I'm sure you'll love the selection.”

W
hile Marlena waited for her kickboxing class to start, she took a few swings at the heavy bag. The impact of her fist against the leather sent a jolt up her arm and echoed across the large room. But no matter how much she kicked and punched, she still felt an underlying sexual frustration she simply could not shake.

Stupid reaper, she thought as she completed a roundhouse kick. Even now, she tasted his kiss on her lips and felt the heat of his hands on her body. To be fair, her restless night wasn't totally his fault. She could have stopped him at any time, but did she? No, of course not. She'd let him do whatever he pleased, and she'd loved every damn minute of it.

She drew up her leg and pivoted, nailing the heavy bag hard enough to make it swing wildly from the chain. Whoops. She glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed. Humans her size didn't have that kind of strength, and she tried not to draw unwanted attention.

Luckily, the group of women in the room was too busy chatting to notice, so she steadied the bag and resumed her warm-up routine.

Her thoughts tracked back to Adam as she punched at the bag. What on earth was she going to do about him? For starters, she needed to put distance between them while she got her head screwed on straight. She'd left the house early that morning, well before ten, when he'd promised to stop by. But evasion was only a short-term solution. Until Cassie figured out how to remove the dark magic from his friend, she wouldn't be able to totally avoid him.

And to be honest, she really didn't want to. She wanted to know the man Christopher had become, and she prayed he was someone she could love.

Whether he could love her in return was another question entirely.

The door to the workout room opened and a tall, well-built man strode inside. He greeted students as he crossed the room and took his place at the front of the class. Marlena fell in line with the other men and women, looking forward to burning off the excess energy buzzing in her blood.

At the end of class, she was tired and sweaty, her mind clear for the first time in hours. She hit the showers, and by the time she exited the gym, she felt like her old self again. Cool. Focused. In control.

And then she saw Adam leaning against her car, and her brain turned to mush. Today he wore jeans and a midnight blue shirt that fit a little snug across his chest. His hair was combed back in dark smooth waves, and his jaw was freshly shaven. When he saw her, his mouth stretched into a sensual grin that she felt all the way to her toes.

“Ah, there you are. I was starting to wonder if you snuck out the back and took the bus home.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. If she'd known he was outside waiting for her, she might have considered it as a viable alternative. “Now why would I do something like that?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're trying to avoid me?” His gaze lingered on her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. “You weren't at Cassie's this morning.”

“You left last night before I could tell you I had a kickboxing class at nine thirty.”

One side of his mouth tipped up. “Kickboxing?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“No, but it puts me on notice not to piss you off. Well, that and the whole Wolverine claws thing.”

She breathed in the spicy fragrance of his aftershave, the smell warm and familiar, soothing and exciting. Less than a full minute in his presence, and he'd already knocked her off-kilter. She adjusted the strap of her gym bag, hitching it higher on her shoulder. “Is there something I can do for you today, reaper?”

“Not in public.” With the grace of a predator, he pushed off against the car and bridged the short distance between them. For a split second, his features shifted, confusion clouding his handsome face. He lifted a hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “What is it between us, Marlena? Why can't I keep you out of my head?”

She shivered in spite of the ninety-degree heat. “I don't know what to tell you.” Hell, she didn't know what to tell herself. Four hundred years of wishing for his return, and now she didn't know what to do with him. With a shake of her head, she dug her keys from the side pocket of her gym bag. “I have to go. Cassie's expecting me back at the house.”

When she tried to walk past, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Have lunch with me.”

“It's barely eleven.”

“Okay, an early lunch.”

“I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

The question raised her hackles. No way would she admit she didn't trust herself around him. “I don't owe you an explanation.”

“After what happened last night, I think you do.” He leaned in close, his breath a warm whisper against her skin. “Are you going to give me a reason, or do I have to make a scene?”

Marlena shot him a glare. “You wouldn't.”

“Try me.” A wicked grin split his mouth.

Two women wearing workout clothes walked past, one of them brazenly checking out Adam's ass. He paid them no mind, his focus still riveted on Marlena. “I'm waiting, kitten. Yes or no?”

“Stop calling me that. I'm not a kitten; I'm over four hundred years old.”

If her age fazed him, he didn't let it show. Instead, his grin widened. “Ah, a cougar, then. I'm a big fan of experienced women, but I'm still calling you kitten.”

Although her resolve began to crumble, she let out an exasperated huff. “Don't you ever give up?”

“Not when it comes to you, sweetheart. Now, are you going to lunch with me or not?”

“I already said no.”

“Then you give me no choice.” He threw his hands out in a pleading gesture. “Baby, please!” he shouted. “Just give me another chance!”

An old guy loading groceries into the back of his SUV gawked at them, curiosity plain on his face.

Marlena cringed. “Jeez, will you knock it off? People are staring.”

“It doesn't bother me,” he replied, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. “I can do this all day.” Raising his voice again, he shouted, “Come on, baby! I can't live without you! Please! I said I'm sorry! I'll do anything to get you back!”

To get to her car, she'd have to shove him out of the way. And while the idea held a certain appeal, she didn't want to make any more of a scene. She went to the gym three or four days a week, and she didn't want to answer questions the next time she worked out. At least that was what she told herself.

“Fine,” she ground out. “If I agree to lunch, will you leave me alone for the rest of the day?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said as he drew an
X
over his chest with his finger.

She huffed out a sigh. “All right, let's go.”

Despite her best efforts to remain indifferent, she felt desire curl low in her belly. This was going to be one really long lunch if she couldn't keep her hormones under wraps. She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, and her composure slipped back into place. There, much better. In control.

When Adam started toward his truck a few parking spots away, she stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. “Oh, no,” she said. “I'm driving. You're paying.”

 

“Have you ever eaten here?” Marlena asked Adam as she pulled into an open spot in front of a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that billed itself as Costanzo's Italian Delicatessen.

He didn't come to this part of town very often, preferring to eat at places closer to his house. “No. I take it the food's good?”

She grinned. “The best.”

He beat her to the door and opened it for her, and she gave him a smile of appreciation. There was nothing sexy or sensual about it, but it still managed to make his body burn.

On the inside, the deli didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. It had the usual meat and cheese display case along the left side and a scattering of dining tables on the right. A map of Italy was painted on the wall behind the counter and the required licenses and permits were tacked up by the cash register. A kid in his teens was busy making subs at the prep table while a man in his late forties rang up a sale.

The guy was tall and built like a bear, with chiseled features and a ruddy complexion. His life force contained a hint of the otherworldly—like Cassie, but not nearly as strong. Warlock, if he had to hazard a guess. A thick mustache covered the man's upper lip, and his black hair had gone white at the temples. His eyes brightened with more than a passing interest when he caught sight of Marlena. “Hey,
micia
! Where you been? I haven't seen you in ages.”

“Been busy, Tony,” she said as she breezed past the counter with Adam a few steps behind. A few customers glanced up as they passed their tables but then quickly went back to their meals. “What kind of soups you got today?”

“Minestrone and sausage tortellini.” Finished with the sale, Tony rounded the counter, wrapped his burly arms around her, and lifted her right off the ground. “Thought you could sit down without giving me a hug first?”

She hugged him in return, but then slapped him hard against the back when he palmed her ass. “Knock it off, Tony. I'm here with someone.”

He dropped her like a hot potato. “Sorry, you should have said something.”

Adam bristled at the shift of blame. He stepped closer and placed a possessive hand at the small of Marlena's back. “It's not her job to tell you when it's okay to molest her. Show some respect and cut that shit out.”

In a flash, Tony went from friendly mauler to overprotective parent. His gaze swung to Adam, sizing him up, a sneer curling his upper lip. “What's this? You're hanging with reapers now? I thought you had more class than that.”

Adam ignored the dig. “What do you mean? She's nothing but class.” His eyes locked with Tony's while he mentally projected a heightened sense of foreboding. It worked like a charm, forcing the other man to back down. Smiling, Adam made a sweeping gesture to Marlena. “Ladies first.”

They claimed a table for two along the far wall while Tony skulked back behind the counter.

“You shouldn't let him grab you like that,” Adam said as he opened a menu.

Marlena made a dismissive noise. “He's harmless. He does that to everybody.”

“I doubt he does that to men.” His temper flared when he wondered just how many times the asshole had played grabby hands with her. “He does that with you because you allow him to get away with it.”

She shot him an annoyed look over the top of her menu. “Let it go. It's not your business.”

The hell it wasn't. Until he figured out what was going on between them, he'd damn well make it his business. He bit his tongue, though, deciding it was in his best interest to let the matter drop. “So what's good here?”

“Pretty much everything, but I really like their subs.”

The waitress stopped by with two glasses of water and took their orders. Marlena changed her selection after Adam ordered, making it so their choices matched.

“Afraid your boy will screw with my food?” Adam asked.

She shrugged. “I haven't had a meatball sub in a while.”

Yeah, right. He took a drink of water, making a mental note to ask the waitress for something that came in a bottle. “Why did you try to avoid me today?”

A shadow crossed over her face. She tapped her straw against the table until the end poked out of the wrapper. “I told you, I had—”

“Kickboxing. I know. Now, what's the real reason?”

She didn't answer right away. She stuck her straw in the drink and took a long pull, her throat moving when she swallowed. “I shouldn't have—what we—” A blush rose in her cheeks as she let out a frustrated sound. “I don't move that fast.”

He couldn't help it; he smiled. God, she was adorable. It surprised him to see the little shifter embarrassed, but it also pleased him to know he was affecting her the same way she affected him.

“If it makes you feel better, I'm not usually that forward with women. But damn, Marlena, there's something about you that makes me act like a caveman.” Reaching across the table, he laid his hand over hers, and the contact sent sparks through his body. “I don't mind taking things as slow as you need, but I can't pretend last night didn't happen.”

Conflicted emotions played over her face. Relief. Confusion. And if he wasn't mistaken, disappointment. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it when the waitress approached with their food.

Adam dug in, and the spicy taste of marinara sauce flooded his taste buds. She was right; Costanzo's made a great meatball sub. He wolfed his down in no time at all and then ordered cannolis for dessert.

“So where are you originally from?” he asked after wiping his mouth with a napkin. He'd been trying to pin down her accent for days, and it was starting to drive him buggy.

She held up one finger while she chewed the last bite of her sub. “I grew up in a region that's now part of Germany, but I lived in England, Ireland, and Scotland for a while before coming to the United States. How about you?”

“Chicago, born and bred.”

“Ah, that explains your accent.”

He couldn't help but laugh. “
My
accent?”

She held a straight face for a moment or two before finally cracking a smile. “It's not really noticeable, but every so often it slips out.”

When they finished, the waitress returned with the check, and Adam snatched it off the table before Marlena could grab it.