Page 42 of Blood Lovers

“This place has apartments?” He looks towards downtown, which is only about half a mile away, like he’s trying to figure out where the miniscule mountain town of White River, Idaho, might be hiding apartments.

“It’s above the hardware store.”

“Ohhh.” He looks back at me and grins. And is that… a dimple? “I’m pretty new here too. But I was absolutely certain that this town does not have apartments.”

We just stare at each other for a moment.

Then I say, “So, where can a girl grab a bite—” while he’s saying, “We’ve got food at the lodge, if you want to come in and eat.”

We both look over at ‘the lodge’ and laugh.

“Lodge might be overselling it.” And he flashes me that dimple again.

“Well, beggars should never be choosers. So sure. Thanks. Hop in. I’ll drive you home.”

His smile grows even bigger. His eyes might twinkle. Then he takes me up on the offer even though we’re only going across the street.

I plow the truck through the snow, park in front of ‘the lodge,’ turn the truck off, and start to open my door.

But he puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hold on.”

“What?” I turn to look at him. He’s wincing. “What’s that look?”

“Here’s the thing—”

“You’re not really the caretaker?”

“No, I am. But…” His eyes dart over to the lodge.

“Your wife is in there?”

He laughs out loud and looks back at me. “No.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I should maybe be worried at this turn of events because I don’t know this man. We literally met three minutes ago. But for some reason… I dunno. I’m kinda into it.

He lets out a long breath. “Well, my boss? His… thing… is in there.”

“Thing?”

“You know. She’s not a girlfriend, she’s not a wife, but they’re attached. He gave her this place, and he’s making me renovate it, because she’s pregnant.”

“Ohhh.”

“Yeah. It’s that kind of thing. But not the point. The point is she’s in there, checking some shit out, and I don’t want to go in there. I would like to go in there.” He gestures to the cabin next to the lodge.

“Ohhhhhh.”

“Yeah. It’s not looking good, is it?”

I laugh. “The creep factor is gettin’ dialed up, buddy. That’s a fact.”

He puts his hand over his heart. “I promise, I am not a creep. I would like to get you out of this weather, stuff you with food, and then… I dunno. Play vinyl records and reminisce about old times.”

“Wow. You’re kinda poetic.”

“I have my moments.”

“Here’s the problem with that.”