“Is there anything else that I can get for you?” the waitress asked as a large plate of food was placed in front of him.
He was just about to tell her that they were fine when he looked up and realized that they had a different waitress. Frowning, he looked past their new waitress to find their old waitress standing just outside the kitchen doors with a small brown paper bag stuck to her face and two women trying to get her to calm down before she passed out.
“We’re all set,” Cloe said, following his gaze with a frown.
“Just yell if you need anything,” the new waitress said, sending him a curious look before she walked away.
“This is a very weird town,” Cloe mumbled as she grabbed a bottle of ketchup and squeezed an insane amount all over her fries.
“You have no idea,” he muttered as he took the bottle of ketchup from her and squirted the red stuff all over his fries before setting the bottle down and wondering what he was supposed to do now.
With a sigh, Cloe picked the bottle back up and squirted some on her burger before placing the bun on top. Deciding that it was probably a good idea, he took the bottle from her again and did the same to his burger. When she cut her burger in half, he did the same.
“Are you going to tell me why this town treats you like a leper?” she asked, taking a bite out of her burger.
“Are you going to tell me what freaked you out last night?” he asked, cocking a brow as he took a bite out of his burger, but not before he discreetly smelled it, making sure that they hadn’t put anything extra in his burger.
“Touché,” she said with a nod as he struggled not to gag.
Although it had smelled pleasant enough, it tasted like garbage and his mouth desperately wanted to get rid of it. Instead of spitting it out, he forced himself to chew a few times before he swallowed the entire bite. When it landed like a ball of lead in the pit of his stomach he was reminded of what he’d be forced to do later. It was not something that he was looking forward to, he mused as he forced himself to take another bite.
“I thought you were on a special diet,” Cloe said, gesturing to his plate with a ketchup-smothered French fry.
“I am,” he said evenly, picking up a French fry and forcing it down his throat.
“Is this going to make you sick?” she asked, pausing with a fry halfway to her mouth, sounding concerned.
“No,” he lied, well, not technically since the food wouldn’t make him sick. He’d be the one forced to make himself sick to rid his body of this crap before it started to rot in his stomach and caused a few other problems that he’d really rather not have to deal with.
“How’s your frappe?” she asked, picking up her own and taking a long, slow sip of it all while watching his every move.
“Delicious,” he forced himself to say as he picked up the glass of what looked like liquid shit and copied her, doing his best not to cringe when the overly sweet, cold, thick liquid hit his tongue.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying it,” she pointed out, returning her attention to her burger.
“I’m in heaven,” he said dryly, earning a smile from her as he forced another bite of his burger down his throat.
She rolled her eyes as she picked up another fry and dipped it in a puddle of ketchup. “You could have ordered something else.”
Not unless she was on the menu, he thought wistfully as he picked up another fry and forced it in his mouth. She smelled mouthwatering, he thought, nearly groaning when his stomach growled in agreement. His fangs actually ached for a taste of her as his eyes latched onto her pulse, mesmerized by the beautiful thrum of her artery as it danced in tune to her heartbeat. What he wouldn’t give for a taste of her, he thought miserably as he stuffed yet another fry in his mouth.
“What time will Marta be done with her dinner tonight?” Cloe asked, managing to draw his attention away from her vein.
“Late,” he said, returning his attention to his burger when the thought of stuffing one more grease soaked fry into his mouth had his stomach turning in disgust.
“Maybe I should come back to the house and prepare a few casseroles to carry her over for a few days until she can find someone to replace me,” Cloe said, frowning with worry and providing him with a better, and more private, opportunity to convince her to stay.
“Yes, yes you should,” he said, biting back a grin as he took another bite of his burger.
Chapter 15
“I swear to God that if you don’t open this door and give me back my purse that I will kick your ass!” Cloe snapped, slapping her hands flat against the basement door before she followed it up with a small kick when her threat was once again met with silence.
She still couldn’t believe that the bastard had done it.
If she had known that he was going to steal her purse when she went upstairs to grab her bags, she wouldn’t have left it on the kitchen table. Hell, if she had known that he was going to use the last three hours to try and convince her to stay, she never would have come back here.
“Asshole!” she growled, shoving away from the door as she tried to figure out what she was going to do now.
Staying here wasn’t an option, not unless she could manage to ask Christofer to crawl in bed with her tonight and keep her safe without dying of mortification. Since she was pretty sure that she couldn’t manage that, leaving was her only choice. She wasn’t weak and she’d be damned if she let anyone think that, especially the bastard that she was going kill as soon as she got her hands on him.
Last night had been a fluke for her. She’d been taken off guard by old memories and she’d reacted. It wasn’t something that she was proud of, but at least she hadn’t broken down and sobbed hysterically no matter how tempting it had been. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t taken her pills, run screaming into the night or begged Christofer to take care of her.
He’d done that all on his own and right now she hated him for it.
She didn’t want to need someone the way that she needed him, not when it would hurt too much to lose him and she would lose him. One day she would have to move on. The need to leave, to put some more space between her and her past would take over and leave her with no choice but to accept a new job in another state. She’d be forced to say goodbye to him and the longer she stayed, the harder that would become. That was only if he didn’t leave her first, which he probably would.
He’d either get sick of dealing with her baggage, get sick of her, find someone else, or die, leaving her behind to deal with no longer having him in her life. She couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to do it. There was a reason why she didn’t allow herself to get close to her clients. It was also the reason why she’d cut ties with everyone as soon as she moved on to a new job. She never wanted to deal with the kind of pain that went along with losing someone that she cared about again. She’d already dealt with enough loss in her life and didn’t need anymore. She should have remembered that this morning instead of looking for an excuse to prolong her goodbyes.