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Her story about the professor smacks me in the face. I pull back. “I would never do that. You are unchanged. When you give yourself to me, it will be a conscious decision. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“You sound pretty confident.” She grips the steering wheel with white knuckles, and sweat beads along her hairline.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Birgitta.” I step back and close her door.
Watching until the red Jeep is out of sight, I long to make her return. Tomorrow will have to be soon enough. I’m a grown vampire. I should be able to keep my head, even in the face of the woman of my dreams.
Inside, I yell up the stairs, “Declan, if you think I’m letting you have breakfast with her without me, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
Laughter is the only reply.
ChapterSeven
Britta
My editor John’s voice rises on the other end of the phone. “What do you mean you don’t have anything yet? You’ve been there for two days.”
“I’m still working through the various stories.” I keep my voice soft despite hating being called out by John. He has no filter.
“Work faster, Britta. You’re not on vacation. I’m running a news station here. Whatever the story is, write it and get your ass back here before I find someone to replace you.” He disconnects the line.
“Jerk!” I toss my phone onto my hotel room bed. I follow it down and bounce on the mattress. I'd go back to bed if I didn’t have to meet Declan Montgomery in an hour. It was a long sleepless night.
With a sigh, I push off the bed. For a small town, the Havendoor Inn is pretty nice. The room is big enough and has a small desk and an updated bathroom with a huge glassed-in shower.
I make use of the extravagant shower, dress and head over to Mable’s.
Because of how we parted, I’m not surprised when Oliver arrives with Declan for breakfast. Both are casual in jeans and golf shirts.
Taller by a few inches, Declan smiles and waves. His light-blue shirt is stretched over his wide shoulders. I’m sure he has to shop in the big-and-tall section.
Oliver has his hands in his pockets, and he’s scowling. He might not be quite the giant that his brother is, but he’s at least six feet tall and muscular. The way his jeans fit is enough to make my mouth water.
I really need to pull myself together and keep my eye on the prize. I need this story. I don’t know why Oliver makes me lose my mind. He’s not at all my type. I tend to go for the bookish, quiet type. My last three boyfriends were blonds and the tallest was only five ten, and muscles were at a minimum. Maybe that’s my problem. Pheromones.
Declan holds the door open. “Nice to see you again, Britta.”
“Thank you. I hope you don’t mind a few questions with your coffee,” I say on my way through Mable’s door.
Mable grins at the men. “Look what the cat dragged in. It’s nice to see you both. How are things up at the big house?” She hustles over with menus as we sit at a four-top in the window-side corner.
I slide in and Oliver sits next to me. “Hello, Britta. I hope you had a good night.”
“It was fine. Thanks.” I’m not even sure why I lie.
Across the table, Declan takes a menu while sporting a cheeky grin. “Mable, you look wonderful. We should come in more often. Only Oliver and me home at the moment. The rest went on holiday in the woods.”
“Good for them. Have you heard anything from Wentworth?” She blushes like a schoolgirl while handing me a menu.
“I’m afraid not. He hasn’t written in years.” Declan shrugs.
With a disappointed sigh and sloping shoulders, Mable says, “I suppose he’ll come home when he’s ready.” She looks at Oliver. “Coffee, Oliver, or should I leave you a menu?”
“Just coffee, please.”
She lights up. “I have some nice berries from Baker’s farm that came in yesterday. I could fix you a bowl with some almonds and pecans.”
Oliver might be moody and intense, but he’s not rude. Anyone can see Mable is excited to have something she thinks he’ll like. He looks up for the first time. “That sounds great. Thank you.”
