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“Okay, if you’re not John, who are you?” Then just like that, the possibility of the bird being a different shape-shifter, one with disguising abilities, filled her mind. But Steve wasn’t due back here for another week.
“Steve?” she whispered his name, even though this bird was a common grackle and Steve had a fascination with falcons.
Footsteps suddenly echoed from the path that led to and from the cabins. Thinking it might be Chase, Della pulled in a noseful of air and turned to see who it was. Her breath caught when the figure, walking slow and easy, made the corner.
Her mind started noting details.
Tall.
Wide shoulders.
Dark hair, slightly curly.
Eyes brown.
A soulful gaze. A soulful gaze focused on her. Directly on her.
Steve.
Her heart did a leap. And so did the bird behind her. She heard its wings pushing against the wind to flee. Part of her wanted to join the creature in flight. Seeing Steve made her feel emotions that she wanted to run from. Emotions that weren’t even clearly defined.
Ahh, but Steve’s scent stirred up memories. Memories of them together. Laughing.
Kissing.
Sharing.
Then came the memory of him saying goodbye.
As he continued walking forward, she realized that if they spoke here, their conversation would be privy to any vampire ears nearby. And since one particular pair of male ears was in Holiday’s office, she leapt off the porch and met the shape-shifter at the exit of the trail.
He stopped and smiled.
He made her world feel a little crazy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” She fought the awkwardness stirring in her chest. She’d seen him briefly in Paris when she’d gone with Miranda and tried to find her uncle. It had felt just as awkward then. When she left he hugged her and said they’d talk when he got back. It was talking time, but for the life of her she didn’t know what to say. They stood there. The silence, louder than nature, echoed around them.
Finally a subject landed on her tongue. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next week.”
“Yeah, they let us go early.” He slipped a hand into his jeans pocket.
“So Perry is here, too?” Della’s mind went to Miranda.
“Yeah.”
For one second, she wondered if the bird had been Perry. If so, why hadn’t he said anything?
She felt Steve’s gaze shift over her and recalled Burnett telling her she looked like shit. Just how a girl wanted to look when she ran into an ex—or almost ex. Not.
“You’re back here early too,” he said. “Everything okay … at home?”
The awkwardness level increased tenfold with his question. The old Della would have told him. Opened her heart and let all the pain and anguish pour out. He would have wrapped his arms around her—brought her head to that soft spot between his shoulder and chest. His caring embrace would have felt good. It would have eased some of her pain.
But that was the old Della.
The new Della didn’t know what to do. The realization scared her. She liked feeling in control, a step ahead. She could never be on top of her game if she didn’t have a game plan. Or at least know the rules.
