Red and her Wolf Ch. 05-06

"Cool." A short nod followed by a thread of silence. Then he catches me off guard by asking, "Do you take commissions?"

Now I'm the one blushing. Fumbling with my bag's zipper like an awkward adolescent."You don't even know if I'm any good."

"I've got a hunch that you are." A knowing lilt colors his voice, though he's still veiled, distant. That blushing boy disappeared. Replaced by his stone-faced alter-ego.

"I've never been paid for my art before," I admit.

"I wouldn't mind being your first customer."

I can't believe Kade is being this nice to me. Butterflies swirl dizzily in my belly. "Would you like a portrait right now?" Shit, is that too much? I've never offered that to anyone in my life. I've only ever drawn from pictures, my mind, inanimate objects. Never up close and personal.

"You mean, of me?" He looks flustered again and I get the most satisfied kick out of it. He's not made of stone. I can make him human.

"Yes, of you."

"Uh...sure." He shifts under his seatbelt strap. Continuing to look more self conscious than I'd ever expect from him, teeth scraping that pretty bottom lip."What do I do?"

I'm actually enjoying that we're both awkward now. Tired of being the only one being out-of-sorts when we're together. "Just look at the road, country boy." I settle the paper pad in my lap, dig through my cluttered bag for a pencil.

"Not easy to look at the road when you're here," he rasps.

Warmth. Warmth everywhere.

Was that...flirting? Like, real flirting? Not just smouldering stares and crowding me into walls? I have zero response but know I'm blooming the deepest red now. "Stay still."

What would his girlfriend think?

As I flip to find a blank page, the black shadows of Kade's portrait from last night appear. I quickly thumb to the next sheet of paper. I know it's extremely unlikely that Kade would recognize himself from where he's sitting, but it's still embarrassing either way.

Pencil finds paper and that unreal bone structure gets to come to life in my hands. He's a masterpiece all on his own, a blessing for any artist. I barely glance down, engrossed in his contours and angles. My hand moving freely again. Following it's own rhythm, it's own intuition.

There's something intimate about drawing someone this close. I can sense Kade feels that in this moment. Uneasy about how open this makes him to me. Focused intensely on the road, shoulders taut. Mouth and jaw fixed into granite.

We're both unnaturally quiet. Minutes pass, songs end and begin, and when our gazes lock for a brief second, his eyes are unreadable again. Emotions smothered.

Disappointment scratches my insides. I don't know what I hoped to see, lust or vulnerability. Maybe both.

The portrait is finished and it's one of my better works. Maybe because it's him. "All done," I sigh.

Kade exhales with palpable relief, stretching his neck. Bones cracking as the downtown core of Dream Hill appears in the distance. Quaint and colourful shops are washed out in the rainy windshield, the cross of a church steeple marking the highest point.

Kade parks in front of Zed's grocery store. Cuts the engine and faces me. "Can I see your drawing?" He leans in my direction to look.

I warily shift the pad to show him my work, anxiety bubbling up. "It's just a quick sketch."

He takes a moment to absorb the portrait, brows knitting. Pulling one of those hand-rolled cigarettes from behind his left ear."You're good." He peers closer, our energies grazing enough to make my heart pump harder. "Really good."

"Thank you," I say breathlessly.

He lights his cigarette, exhales a tobacco-cloud with a grimace."Do I really look like that?"

"Like what?"

"A fucking sourpuss."

I stifle a laugh."Yeah...you do."

A gorgeous half-grin flickers across Kade's face. Disarming. "You should sell your stuff at the market." His head gestures towards the now-empty market square. "Pops up every week. Sure people would love it."

I look down with a sheepish shrug. "I don't have that many actual finished pieces on me. I just started again..." Our eyes meet. "Last night."

He pulls away in a rush at those latter words, hand kneading the back of his neck. "Right. Well, I'm sure you don't have much else to do out here. Bet you could whip up a whole gallery's worth in no time."

That comment undermines his flattery. Makes me feel pressured when the whole point of moving here was to get away from work. "I'm on sabbatical."

He just stares at me, funnelling smoke out the corner of his mouth so I don't get a face-full. "Lucky girl. Wish I knew what a break felt like." At first it seems like a backhanded compliment, but there's only plain truth in his tone. On that note, he opens the car door, ready to leave."What were you going to do today?"

I unbuckle my seatbelt."I was going to have some coffee, check my emails, then take the bus back."

Kade shakes his head."It's a Sunday, so there won't be any buses going back now that it's after two." He exits the truck. Lingers by the door, one hand on top of the roof as he peeks in my direction. "I can give you a ride home if you want. I'll be around here for about an hour."

"That would be great." I grab my purse. Hop out of the truck to step into the lightest drizzle, rounding the vehicle to meet him on the other side. I spot the nearest coffee shop a few stores down and point to it: La Luna Cafe."I'll just be hanging out in there."

"Sure thing." He cracks open the back of the truck, hoists a crate full of honey with a grunt. "I'll meet you inside when I'm done." He turns to cross the street, and I can't help but pause to soak up that subtle strut in his step, the contours of his arms bulging from the weight in his arms.

I head towards the cafe. Enter with the door jingling tiny bells. A white-haired older woman beams at me from behind the counter, glinting tongs pinching a muffin in mid-air. "Hello, stranger!"

"Hi." I take in the surrounding premises. That west coast charm shining through every nook and cranny. The main themes: handcarved wood, local Native American art, rustic decor. Only a few patrons are seated, sipping coffee and chatting quietly. One or two hiding behind newspapers.

I order a latte. As I wait for my coffee, I wander the cafe. Loiter at the pinboard on the wall, plastered in a rainbow of flyers. What catches my eye is the Missing poster beside the Help Wanted ad. A glaring fluorescent yellow, featuring the faded picture of a young woman with a haunted gaze: Sabrina Hindley. Missing for the past thirty days.

"She used to come in here a lot," the barista chirps. "For about three months she'd be in here daily. New girl in town, a photographer." She sets a coffee cup on the counter for me. "One day she's in here laughing and yacking, the next day she's gone. Went for a hike and never came back."

My stomach sinks, followed by Kade's warning about the woods penetrating my mind.

"Everyone knows not to go into the woods," she rambles on. "Not like she wasn't warned. Most people don't believe in ghosts and goblins..." She shoots me a severe look. "But this town does. To tell you the truth up until about two years ago, a lot more people went missing. Things have been getting better. Not perfect, but better."

It's weird how she's talking to me like this, as if I brought the whole thing up. I haven't said a word, but I guess in a town as small as this, it's common to be in everyone's business.

"What's your name again?" I approach the counter to retrieve my steaming cup.

"Myra." She extends a pudgy hand to shake. Not a common practice between barista and customer in Seattle, but apparently Dream Hill is that type of place. "Yours, honeybee?"

"Emily. But you can call me Em." I take a careful sip of scalding caffeine. The milk is over-foamed, the espresso burnt, but after days of energy bars and bottled water it feels like the biggest treat.

"Nice to meet you, Em." Myra winks at me before greeting the next customer.

I sit down in one of the window seats. Get comfortable. I take out my phone and check Facebook, Instagram. Feeling immediately alienated from the endless pics of slick city life, my former colleagues and friends updates about irrelevant bullshit. My father has sent me a few uncomfortable Facebook messages, bombarding me with questions of when I'm coming back, if I'm returning to the world of Law this autumn. Not one message asking me how I'm doing, if I'm okay. Mom hasn't sent me a word but that's not surprising.

Deflated, I set my phone on the pale green table. Take out my drawing pad, which has mostly dried out at this point. Clicking my mechanical pencil, I keep working on today's sketch of Kade. Adding in details. Shading in his hair, his eyes. Every cell in my body wants to dapple his irises gold.

Three sketches and a refill later, I realize my time is almost up. I take my empty mug to the bin labelled "dirty" by the cash register. Myra is behind the counter, placing a fresh cherry pie on a stand.

"Beautiful woodwork in this place." I attempt small town small talk. "Never seen wood this beautifully carved in my life."

"Ah, that'd be Mr. Black's skills." She takes in the room as if seeing it all again for the first time, through my eyes. "He renovated this place last year. It's never looked better."

"Well, he did a great job."

"Didn't he? Talented man, I'd say." She leans closer. "I think he's in the closet, though. Any man that good-looking and good with his hands without a woman...must be in denial of something, right?"

The door behind me rings it's chimes.

"Speak of the Devil," Myra mutters.

"Ready to go?" A big, warm hand gently lands on my shoulder and I turn to see Kade's hazel gaze. His touch has me red as roses again.

"Oh!" Myra covers her mouth, an obvious grin behind her fingers. "So you know Mr. Black, Em."

My eyes widen. And then I hold back a laugh. There's no way in hell Kade is gay. I guess Myra doesn't know about the girl who visits his house late at night with jars of unsold honey.

And...does she notice the way he's looking at me now?

"We were just talking about how you helped renovate this cafe." I raise a teasing brow at Kade. "Apparently you do everything. Jack of All-Trades."

"Master of none." Kade seems uncomfortable, itching to flee."Just surviving. These days one gig isn't enough."

"And isn't that the truth!" Myra says. "I love your honey as much as anyone else, Kade, but I know it isn't what's paying the bills. It's your lovely craftsmanship!"

Kade's mouth tightens, arms folding. I try to exit him out of this conversation as he's clearly not one for flattery, especially from Myra. In fact, he can't seem to look at her without glowering.

"Would you like something to drink?" I touch Kade's arm and his eyes burn into mine at the contact. The connection so white-hot I have to remind myself that it's not just us here, abruptly pulling my hand away.

Myra doesn't miss any of this, an incredulous look on her lined face. "Green tea to go?"

He gives a brusque nod, digging in his pocket for his wallet. My eyebrows raise to the ceiling. Kade did not strike me as the green tea type whatsoever.

When Kade has his paper cup of Japanese sencha in hand, Myra gives him another one of those cheeky grins of hers. "So, are you two going to the Butterfly Ball together?"

"The what?" I ask, watching Kade's face go even grimmer.

"It's about the one and only decent dance we have around here," Myra croons, zeroing in on Kade as she rests her elbows on the counter. Chin in her palm. "I don't remember seeing you there last year, Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades. Or the year before. Do you dance as well as you work those fingers?"

If I still had my coffee I would be spitting it out. Myra just bats her lashes innocently.

"I don't dance." Kade's tone makes it clear there will be no further questions. He makes a motion with his head at me. "Let's go, Red."

"Red, is it?" Myra sinks deeper into her palms, smiling ear to ear. "She does have lovely red hair, doesn't she?"

"The loveliest." A terse grunt. No smiles back. Kade spins on his heel towards the door and I follow after, giving Myra an apologetic wave of my hand as I exit the building.

"You don't like her one bit, I'm guessing." I finally get the words that have been percolating off my chest as we approach Kade's truck.

Kade snorts like that's an understatement. "Last thing I need is Myra digging into my personal life. Nosiest woman I've ever fucking met."

"She is a bit intrusive but seems friendly enough."

"A front so she can burrow into your business and spread it around town." Kade halts in front of his truck's back end to scan me. "Hope you didn't tell her your whole life story."

"No, you arrived just in time," I say dryly.

We get into the truck. I buckle up and stare at Kade's jean jacket sleeves, the arms rolled up three times. For some reason the size difference between us is deeply arousing, has my legs pressing tight together as sheer want hits me out of nowhere. I glance at Kade, hoping to catch him staring at me, but he's currently occupied with scrawling digits on a his copy of a business receipt.

"Did you get everything you needed?" he asks without looking up.

"Yup. Just wanted a coffee and internet access."

He sets the receipt on the dashboard and guns the engine."You know, you're always welcome to use my wifi."

"Really?" I still can't get over how generous Kade is being towards me this afternoon. I don't know what to make of it. "Thanks so much." I feel like I've said thank you to him about a million times today.

He just nods as we pull onto the main road. I watch him continue not to look at me even once since we entered this vehicle. A stone wall erected. My pleasure at his generosity is soon replaced by gnawing let-down. It seems Kade is always either devouring me with torrid stares or giving me near-robotic levels of cool reserve. I think I might have whiplash.

Fuck, isn't this exactly what past friends told me when they cried about their lovesick obsessions? Hot and cold? Romantic and infuriating? Confusing as hell? Damn. We're not even together and I care way too much. Not to mention, he's taken.

Uh oh. This is bad. This is so, so bad.

"The password is "busy little bee"," Kade suddenly says, completely serious.

I guffaw before sinking into my seat, deciding to let everything go right there. "I'll remember that."

The ride goes silent except for the folk radio on in the background. The anxious electricity between us is slowly being replaced by...simple ease. It feels good to be next to Kade, even with zero conversation. It feels good be in his warm jean jacket. To take in that forest and musk scent that's all him.

Kade parks outside my cabin and I turn to him with honest gratitude. "You've been super helpful today."

"That's what friends are for."

Yes, friends. I unbuckle my seatbelt, shouldering my bag as I open the truck door. "See you around."

"Hey, uh-" Kade stops me before I exit. "Maybe we should exchange numbers? You know, in case you need a ride again." His mouth twitches at the corner. "Or if you need any rodents taken care of."

"Sure." I try not to read too much into this. We're neighbours. We should have each others number. This is normal.

"Where's my fucking phone?" He pats his thighs down before glancing at his jacket, currently adorning me. Without batting a lash, he scoots across the undivided seat. Delves a hand into the left pocket of his jean jacket. I feel that brief dig for his phone all the way to my toes. Reddening bright like we're both in grade school.

Kade doesn't shift back behind the wheel. He stays a little too close as he taps in the code on his surprisingly new cell. A part of me is surprised it isn't some early 2000's Nokia based on the age of his truck.

Kade goes to his contacts, types my name in as Red and hands the phone to me. Hot skin brushes mine as I take the phone in my fingers. He's still so close to me, I almost forget my number, pausing halfway through to remember.

I eventually complete the entry. "There you go." I give the phone back and we finally make eye contact.

Something uncontrollable happens in that moment. Something alchemical. Inevitable. We're both frozen in time, unmoving. Time expanding. Kade glances at my mouth and a cord in me snaps. Without a second's thought I lean forward and press my lips to his. Butterfly-soft.

He turns his head away with a deep inhale through his nose, chest heaving. My heart plummets into my belly.

I'm an idiot. I'm a total idiot. What was I thinking? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

He exhales slow, then shifts to face me, voice strained. "Red, I don't want to give you the wrong impression but I'm not really available...in that way."

I run a frazzled hand through my hair."I know. I don't know why- God. Fuck, I'm so sorry." I'm a slut. I'm a home-wrecking slut. Never in my wildest nightmares would I ever kiss a taken man. "I didn't mean to." I'm so lame. I didn't mean to? I hate myself.

He looks equally rattled, touching my shoulder, then snatching his hand back. "It's um- it's totally fine. I get it. And I mean, don't get me wrong, you're beautiful, Red. Obviously. I mean, uh-shit..." He bites his lip, looking at the street, considering his next sentence before meeting my eyes again. "If this were another time, if things were different..." His expression turns solemn as he drifts off. "If this were another life, trust me, I'd be kissing you right now."

I'm so humiliated my eyes are actually welling. I sniff hard, trying to compose myself. "I'm stupid. I'm sorry."

"You're not fucking stupid." His hand settles on my shoulder, doesn't leave this time, and I get the sense that if this was another life he'd be kissing my forehead too. "It's just bad timing. That's all."

"Right...okay." I knuckle a tear from my eye. Take a moment to heave a breath into my lungs as I stare at my knees. "I'm going to go now." I slip from his steady hand and haul my feet onto the ground.

"Red, wait."

I turn to look at him.

He opens and closes his mouth, as if searching for words before he finally blurts out, "I'll...text you."

I have no answer to that, still full of self-loathing. I slam the door shut and walk away. It's only when I'm inside my cabin that I realize I'm still wearing Kade's jacket.