Witch Way to Turn (8 page)

She took a step toward him and the knowing look turned darker, hotter. There was something raw about it. Something ravenous, and so powerful she could barely keep herself from being consumed.

He tilted his head slightly in her direction, and it seemed almost as if he was…listening to her. As if he were trying to puzzle her out by catching the subtle beat and hum of her body.

It finally dawned on her that they’d been standing there a good while in complete silence. She managed to shake herself out of her lust-filled stupor long enough to recover something vaguely resembling her manners. “Ah, about the other night… Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Breena.”

“Hey, how do you know my name?”

“I do my research.”

“You do realize that makes you sound like a complete stalker.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He smiled, but kept his distance. “What can I do to seem less stalker-like?”

If the guy wanted to hang out, he’d have to ditch the mysterious vibe and play nicely.

She leaned back against her VW, trying her best to act cool, calm, captivating. She didn’t realize she was a couple inches too far from the car and stumbled backward, only just managing to catch herself in time.

Yeah, who am I kidding?

“Well, for one, what’s your name?”

“Orin Heider,” he answered without hesitation. “Did that help?”

Good. He’d played. Now if only she could get her game together. “Definitely.” She smiled.

“My turn to ask a question.”

“Shoot.”

“When you got out of your car, why did you look so angry?”

For some reason Breena wanted to tell him about it, but she glimpsed the black Camaro and hesitated. Maybe here wasn’t the best place to talk. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.” His eyes seemed to darken before flashing to their pale green.

“Well, I’m buying. It’s the least I can do.”

“Any suggestions?”

Besides the truck-stop diner and the brand spankin’ new Hardees, the only other restaurant close by was an Italian place. The truck-stop was out since she didn’t want to risk running into one of Norma’s many “boyfriends.” Hardees offered no privacy whatsoever, which left Mama Rosa’s. Jenny hated Italian food, so they never ate there. Perfect opportunity.

“Mama Rosa’s is good. And it’s nearby,” Breena added.

“Perfect. I can’t wait to try it.” His smile was flawless.

She smiled back and gave him a cool nod.

“Why don’t I drive?”

“Great.” Breena followed him to his car.

* * * *

“Two?” The waitress flipped her hair and eyed Orin as if he were a fine piece of man-candy. And really, Breena didn’t blame her.

Keeping his attention on his date, he nodded and guided Breena inside by the small of her back. His touch sent a rush of warmth through her body and gave her the confidence to stare the woman down.

Annoyed by the waitress’s hussy behavior, she had to admit to being pleased by the snarly look Ms. Flippy Hair gave her when the first table wasn’t private enough for Orin’s taste. The waitress reluctantly seated them in the far front corner of the small dining room, in a booth by a window. The place looked deserted, except for a family of six and an elderly couple on the opposite side of the room.

Once seated with drinks and menus in hand, Orin studied Breena’s face. “Do you like living here?”

It wasn’t like she had an option or anything. Jenny was here. Still, that felt like TMI for a first date. If that’s what this was. “Yeah, sure, what’s not to love? Throw a rock in any direction and you’ll hit a redneck or a cow. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, both.”

He laughed.

Breena smiled back at him, cheeks tingling.

“Keen sense of humor.”

“Thanks. I try to keep things light for Jenny.”

“Your foster-sister?”

“Yeah. How’d you–oh, right, you do your research.” Breena fiddled with her hair. “We’re not related by blood, but we have a connection.” She sipped her sweet tea. It felt good to talk to Orin–easy, like he got her. Even if all she knew about him was his name. “She’s my only family. I love her like a sister. I’d do anything for her.”

“I can tell.” His eyes were full of soft, unspoken things and, for a moment, she felt as if they were kindred spirits, both running, afraid to stop for fear of being caught in the jaws of their past.

Finally, Breena closed her eyes, shook her head and let out a sigh that sounded almost like an embarrassed laugh. “Okay, enough about my issues. Tell me about you. Are you in school? Do you live around here?”

“No.” He smiled. “No school for me. I work. And right now I live in DC. I’m only in town for…business.” He fiddled with the edge of the paper placemat. “Not sure how long I’ll stay.”

“Oh.” Why did she feel disappointed? “So, what’s your job? Besides stalking girls and saving them from creeps in random parking lots.”

Orin laughed again, reached across the table and took her hand. “That’s more of a hobby.” He slid his fingers over Breena’s knuckles until his entire hand engulfed hers. Flipping it over, he stroked her palm. A take charge kind of move. Her breath caught in her throat as his gentle touch sent goosebumps dancing up her arm.

This
.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Maybe he could teach Myles a thing or two.

“I should confess something–” he started.

The waitress chose that moment to take their orders. Figured. He kept his hand on Breena’s while she quickly ordered. Anything would do if it got rid of Ms. Flippy Hair.

Lasagna it is.

Orin chose the Eggplant Parmesan.

The second the waitress had moved out of earshot, Breena pounced. “You were confessing something?”

Chapter 6

“Yes.” Orin’s gaze held Breena’s.

If a look could make her feel this way, she wondered what being in his arms might be like. Slowly, he pulled his hand back, and she shook off the fantasy.

Were his eyes getting darker?

They sat in a silence that stretched way longer than her patience allowed. She tried to play it cool but it wasn’t long before her curiosity won out.

“I’m waiting,” Breena said in her best I’m-not-impatient-but-I-really-am voice. Raising a brow, she took a sip of sweet tea.

Orin stared at her with an intensity so focused, she caught herself holding her breath.

Ms. Flippy Hair plopped the lasagna in front of her but Breena didn’t bother with a “thank you” since the waitress looked at Orin the whole time anyway. Ms. Flippy Hair actually pouted when his gaze didn’t leave Breena’s.

Good grief.

His leg brushed against hers, lingering there. “I’ve never wanted to taste something so badly.” His eyes were definitely darker.

Breena cut a piece off the edge of her lasagna and held her fork out to him.

He shook his head. “Not that.”

The waitress looked absolutely shocked and gave Breena a what’s-so-great-about-you once-over before setting down Orin’s eggplant dish. She took her ever-lovin’ time walking away.

“What…uh…what did you want…”

“What are you offering?” His sly grin heated her blood and brought it rushing to her cheeks.

She flicked her hair forward to shield the blush, grabbed her sweet tea and took a long swig. “I…ah…” Not knowing where to look, she smoothed down the napkin in her lap, even though it was already flat against her thighs. “Lasagna?”

Laughing, he tilted his head and raised a brow. “Didn’t I already say that’s not what I’m in the mood for?” His other leg pressed against hers.

Breena quickly decided to take up her own offer. She shoved down the cheesy goodness with as many big bites as possible. It must’ve been under a heat lamp most of the afternoon, because she had no idea how she didn’t scald her tongue.

She had to hand it to him for not being afraid to say what was on his mind, though, even if mortified and turned-on now fought for emotional territory in her body. Unlike a certain coworker, slash not-her-boyfriend, whose mood swings were driving her crazy.
 

The light at the opposite end of the restaurant flickered, signaling the end of the lunch service. Mama Rosa’s shut down at four o’clock in order to reopen at six for supper.

“They’re almost as subtle as you.” Breena swished the ice in her drink around with her straw.

Hell’s bells. Tactful, Breena
.
Real smooth.

Open mouth, insert Orin.

Omigod.
She did not just think that.

She took another gulp of her ice tea to give her mouth something to do. Otherwise she’d stick her foot in it again, sure as the world.

“Subtlety’s never been my strong suit.” As the afternoon sun shone through the window, the golden circle of his eyes sparkled.

The waitress brought their checks and Breena swiped them off the table before he could offer to pay for hers.

She paid at the cash register and Ms. Flippy Hair rushed them out so fast she nearly clipped Orin’s butt with the front door, probably on purpose. The bell hanging on the back of the door clanked against the glass and echoed in the empty parking lot.

Orin twined his fingers with Breena’s as they strolled back to his car and the gesture felt surprisingly natural. At the car, he closed the gap between them and flattened his hands against the door, surrounding her. The feel of his body this close to her had her buzzing with anticipation. His ears tipped through his sandy hair.

What?

No. She’d imagined that, definitely. Almost touching him had her fantasies reeling, that was all. Her heart raced and she wondered if he heard it.

He leaned in, bringing his lips dangerously close to hers.

She put her hand up and his kiss grazed her open palm. “Hey, hold up, you.” Breena might be interested in tasting those lips–okay, fine, she
wanted
to taste them–but give a girl a second. She didn’t move quite that fast.

Orin didn’t seem at all surprised that she had stopped his advances. Matter-of-fact, she kind of thought he was impressed. Maybe not too many girls told him no?

He stepped to the side and leaned back against the Accord, watching her. “You’re spunky.” He smiled his forty-watt grin. “I like that in a woman.”

Breena’s cheeks flushed. No one had ever called her a woman before. She grinned back, feeling some of the weight of what had happened at Norma’s lift. It never went away, the pain and worry always right below the surface, but being with Orin made her feel like a balloon on a string. Eventually she’d either float back to earth or be pulled down, but for now she would take full advantage of her freedom from guilt.

The sound of a throat clearing made her turn toward the restaurant. The owner gave them a no-loitering-we’re-closed glare as he swept the sidewalk.

Breena felt the balloon losing air. She didn’t want her time with Orin to be up. But she also didn’t have a lot of experience asking guys out. Especially guys like Orin.

Breena caught a glimpse of him staring at her and shifted back to face him.

“So if a guy wanted to spend a little more time with a girl, where would they go?”

She suppressed the giddy squeal of excitement that rose in her throat. He’d actually asked her out. No avoiding it or dodging the issue. Mentally she was doing her happy dance, but she needed to appear under control. Or at least not desperate.

Focus.

Hmm. His question…good question. “Well, there’s a coffee shop in the mall.” Judging by his arched brows, she hadn’t sounded convincing.

“What about someplace less crowded? Someplace you really like going.”

Her dam. It was too early to go sit on the top, overlooking the river, because the power plant would still be open. But the embankment on the opposite side of the bridge was nice, and they could watch the water rush over the side.

Breena’s entire body was electric with the thought of the unleashed power. So much energy. She could almost feel it surging through her. “I know a place.”

* * * *

Orin parked in the outermost part of the plant’s parking lot and they crossed the street to the embankment.

When they reached a secluded place under a weeping willow, she found a grassy spot and sat down with her knees pulled into her. Orin hesitated and doubt burrowed into her gut. Maybe he thought her place was stupid. Maybe he was expecting something else. Something better, or fancier, or–

He copied her pose. “So, you never answered my question.”

“Which was?” She shot him a coy grin as she twisted a blade of grass between her fingers.

“What happened before you ran into me at the pharmacy?” He shifted a little more in her direction.

She stared across the river and felt her grin fading. Behind the row of trees was Dogwood Drive…and Jenny.

“Do you not want to talk about it?”