this,” he murmured, his breath teasing her hair as he tightened his hold.
Reaching back, she curled a hand around the nape of his neck. “Then every night will be, Cliff.”
“I love you, Emma,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
After Cliff left, fatigue hit Emma like a sledgehammer.
Having worked the day shift for the past year or so, she had—of necessity—had to maintain an early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule. So her body didn’t appreciate the sudden late nights.
Shuffling into the bedroom, she tumbled face-first onto the covers and drew the pillow that carried Cliff’s scent to her chest. “Totally worth it,” she mumbled as she fell asleep with a smile on her face.
An explosion of sound jerked her awake.
Jackknifing up in bed, heart slamming against her ribs, she glanced around with wide eyes. What the hell? It reminded her of the time golf-ball-sized hail had fallen when she was a little girl. The noise had been deafening and had utterly terrified her.
It did the same now. Especially since there had been no rain in the five-day forecast, let alone hail.
Racing to her window, she speared the blinds with her fingers and yanked them apart so she could peer out at… a tranquil backyard just beginning to lighten with dawn.
What?
She didn’t realize until then that the sound was concentrated at the front of the house.
Quiet fell.
She held her breath.
The thunderous racket began anew.
Swearing, she glanced down at the tank top and pajama shorts she’d donned to see Cliff to the door. In record time, she tugged on yoga pants and a hoodie. Grabbing her cell and the 9mm, she headed into the living room.
A shadow passed across one of the front windows.
Sucking in a breath, she ducked back into the hallway and waited.
When no one busted in the window, she crept over to the back door. A peek out the curtained window showed her the same tranquil meadow she’d seen from her bedroom window. Turning the lock, she eased the door open and slipped outside.
Another of those quiet pauses struck. Then the noise resumed.
Try though she might, Emma could not identify what hell was making it… until she headed for the side of the house, eased along it, and peered around the front corner.
Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped.
No longer attempting stealth, she strode onto her front lawn. The dew-covered grass cooled her bare feet as she stopped and stared.
Tarps covered her lawn and shrubs as a large black form moved up and down and side to side on a ladder so quickly that he blurred. On the left side of the ladder, every millimeter of flaky paint had been removed. On the right, it still looked like crap.
“What the hell are you doing?” she called.
The form solidified and spun to face her with a snarl, eyes glowing bright amber.
Fear sliced through her, driving her to back away a couple of steps and grip the gun tighter.
As soon as the man saw her, his features smoothed out and his eyes stopped glowing. “Oh. Sorry about that,” he said with a British accent as he offered her a chagrined smile. “You startled me. I didn’t hear your approach over the noise.”
“Uh-huh.” Was this Bastien? “What the hell are you doing?”
Leaping down from the ladder, he motioned to the house behind him with a scraper tool. “Melanie mentioned you were scraping old paint off the siding when she arrived. So I thought I would”—he shifted his weight, looking for all intents and purposes like a precocious child who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t—“swing by and, uh… help?”
Amusement trickled through her, easing some of the tension in her muscles. Oh yeah. She could definitely see this man using the phrase vagina doctor. “I take it you’re Sebastien Newcombe?”
Nodding, he strode toward her. “Apologies. Yes, I’m Bastien.” He wiped his dusty, paint-flecked hand on his pants, then offered it to her.
Emma transferred the 9mm she held to her left hand and shook. “I’m Emma.”
“Good to meet you, Emma.”
She motioned to the house. “I know what you’re doing. I just don’t know why. And aren’t you supposed to be sleeping right now? The sun’s up.” Fortunately for him, it would take the sun a couple more hours to climb high enough to top the oak trees that shaded the front of her home.
He shrugged. “I’m immortal. I don’t need as much sleep as a human or a vampire. I also came early enough to get the work done while your house was still in the shade. And I’m doing