The Wicked Beasts That Roam

Chapter 16

Coming out the side door of the gray brick building, Jade followed the crumbling sidewalk that led all the way through town. She passed small cottages on low hills, multiple fences with dogs that trailed her until their yard cut short, and a no-damage fender bender between two rusted Cadillacs that had both old women involved distraught and in tears.

Never again would she go to that creative writing seminar. Not if she had to sit and listen to forty-year old women recite their latest chapter of erotic romance. At least, that was what they called it. It sounded more like a fifties sitcom.

He smiled. She smiled back. His hand touched her thigh. She was ready for him.

No thanks. She’d rather hear a day’s worth of depressing poems from an underappreciated housewife.

As she walked to Pilbbies’ café, she took a seat at a table outside, grabbed a menu and slouched back in her seat as she waited for the waiter. She vaguely heard the chair across from her being pulled out. Glancing up from the menu, her eyes settled on the clean, chiseled face in front of her.

Dom was staring at her with those black, hard eyes as he propped his elbows on the table.

Ignoring the fresh blaze that stirred under her skin, she asked. "Where's Zeke?” She could’ve sworn she got a text saying he’d be here.

"Car troubles."

Swallowing hard, she told herself to take deep breaths. Her heart pounded steadily in her chest and her body demanded to rub against him like a goddamn feline.

Get ahold of yourself. She didn’t have the same sex credentials as her sister, but with all the hot and heavy images flashing back and forth through her head, she believed her mind to be a total whore.

Her regular waiter came over, shaking both of them from their staring contest. “Hey, stranger. You ready to order?”

His golden brown hair had a habit of getting in the way of his green eyes. A few light freckles dusted his nose and cheeks along with a few pimples. The guy wasn't any older than sixteen, if that.

"Just a double mocha for right now."

"You got it." He winked at her and turned to Dom. "And for you, sir?" Dom glared at him, sending him an answer quick and clear. "Uh, well, uh, I'll be back with your order," Paul stuttered nervously as he turned away from their table.

Jade frowned at Dom, feeling like she was sitting across the table from a kid. "You really don't go out in public much, do you? Probably don’t even know what the term polite means." He didn't say anything as he continued to glare down at the black-iron table. She shook her head, "Just like Frankenstein."

"Why? Because of my face?" he sounded sarcastic.

Her eyes flashed up to his that were laced with anger . . . and hurt.

"No, I was referring to your attitude. You know, you being such a dick to Paul."

"So you know his name?" he asked with disgust, switching the topic.

"I've been coming to this cafe for the past three months. He serves me almost every other day. Of course I know his name."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a permanent scowl on his face. Was there ever a day he wasn't frowning, brooding, and stomping around like a pouty kid? She got that his history was screwed up, but that didn't mean he had to make his future that way too.

“Are you ready yet?” He looked around as if he were uncomfortable.

“My drink’s not even here yet.”