“Too much of a tomboy, I guess. I was the son my dad always wanted.”
“Who was your best friend? Girls always have those, right?”
Lana smiled, remembering. “Gretchen Foster. She lived in the apartment building behind my dad’s office. We sort of bonded in our mutual misery.”
“She was a tomboy like you?”
“Oh, no. Gretchen was beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Lana blinked in surprise at that simple statement. He said it so matter-of-factly, not like a come-on, but as if he really meant it. She was silent long enough that he glanced over at her.
“You are,” he said quietly, seeming puzzled by her response.
“Yeah, well,” she mumbled, then finally said, “I definitely wasn’t then, but Gretchen was. And teenage girls can be mean. All the guys loved Gretchen. She never went out with any of them, but they hung around her anyway, and the other girls hated it. They started a rumor that Gretchen was easy, and that’s why all the guys liked her. That she’d put out for any guy who wanted it.”
“But she wasn’t.”
“The very opposite. I don’t think Gretchen had so much as a date until junior year in high school. Her parents were very strict. She went to school and came home right after.”
“So how’d the two of you get together?”
“Like I said, her parents were strict. They expected good grades, and Gretchen had a problem with math. I was kind of a whiz at it, so we traded. She solved my problem and I solved hers.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She read all the fashion magazines, knew all about makeup and clothes and stuff. I didn’t have a mom, and my dad didn’t exactly keep Vogue lying around the office. So, Gretchen taught me girl stuff, how to dress, do my hair, my makeup. And I tutored her in math.”
“What’d your dad think about his son learning girl stuff?”
She laughed. “Yeah, once I sprouted breasts, he did a complete one-eighty. He decided he didn’t want me around the office as much. I think he worried about his guys getting ideas.” She almost added, At least until he picked out my husband for me. Thank God, she didn’t. Vincent would have been all over that one.
“Where’s Gretchen now?” he asked.
“We went to college together, and she met a guy. They got married after graduation and have two kids. They live in New York.”
“Happy ending.”
“Yeah, it was.” Lana lapsed into silence, then frowned. “And that was way more than one question. You owe me.”
Vincent laughed with such joy that Lana forgot to breathe for a moment. Vincent scowling or smirking was gorgeous. But Vincent laughing? That went so far beyond gorgeous she didn’t have a word for it.
“I guess I do,” he agreed, seeming unaware of her fascination. “Ask away.”
Lana swallowed, giving her overreacting hormones a chance to cool down. Maybe she needed to get laid more often if a simple laugh could do that to her. How long had it been since she’d had sex? She frowned. So long she couldn’t remember exactly. She’d have to remedy that when she got home. But right now, she had to deal with the vampire next to her, and he was waiting for her to ask a question.
“Okay,” she said. “I still want to know how you became a vampire. And . . .” And what? She had to say something before he noticed she was babbling. “And, I get a second question too, so how old are you?”
“Those are pretty personal questions for a vampire, Lana,” he said, with no trace of his prior humor.
“So was asking me about my parents’ divorce,” she countered quietly.
He nodded. “You’re right. All right, then, settle back, querida, and I’ll tell you a tale of two brothers.
Texas, 1876
“PLEASE BE CAREFUL, mijo. And take care of your brother.”