Fangs But No Fangs. Kathy Love

to be human? That was never a good sign. She read the list again, then shook her head. She opened the fridge and peered in. The only things in there were packets of…juice or something. Hence the straws, she guessed.

      “Makes my fridge look like a regular grocery market.” She glanced back at the cupboard with all the gadgets. “No wonder they all look new. He has no salad to shoot or eggs to eggstract. And forget about the easy meatballs.”

      This guy got stranger each time she met him. And she hadn’t even met him today. God knew what he’d do now.

      Aside from the hum of the computer on his kitchen table, the trailer was quiet. Where was he? She took her cup and went in search. The hallway was dark. She flipped on the bathroom light on the way by to see a little better. The door at the end of the hallway was closed, and she hesitated to knock. If he was in there, he was probably sound asleep. The door, just like the one in her trailer, slid on rollers into the wall. She moved her hand to the small round handle and eased the door open just enough to see in.

      This room was also pitch-black, except for the light from the bathroom behind her. The strip of light created by the open door fell directly on him, where he lay on the bed.

      He was sound asleep—and naked. Jolee almost closed the door immediately, but she couldn’t get her brain to cooperate with her body. The lean sinew of his arms and chest held her captive, all hard curves and latent strength. One of his arms was flung up above his head, palm up. The other hand rested on his flat stomach. His hand was large, broad, with long, strong fingers. Jolee stared at those fingers, finding something oddly thrilling about his hand against his own skin. Spread over that flat, rigid stomach.

      An image of his hand moving over his chest played through her mind. Traveling down his stomach, slowly, sensually.

      She swallowed. What was she doing? But even as she reprimanded herself, her eyes wandered to the place where his fantasy hand had been heading. One of his legs was sprawled out straight, long and muscular, but the one closest to her was bent, offering him a little privacy.

      Thank goodness, she told herself, even as a small wave of disappointment skimmed over her.

      She stared at him for a second more, then with a shake of her head forced herself to slide the door shut.

      “Pervert,” she muttered to herself, then took a large swallow of her water, hoping the cool liquid would extinguish the heat in her skin. It didn’t.

      She might have been a pervert, but to be fair to herself, he was the most perfectly built man she’d ever seen. That alone was enough to explain why she hadn’t been able to look away. Her fun was over, though; now she had to get out of here. The realization that her neighbor not only had a breathtaking face but the body to match didn’t change the fact that he was not someone she wanted to associate with. In fact, that knowledge only solidified the fact that he was best avoided. She knew the ego that came with a face like that. She’d already seen his ego once. He might have been kind last night, but she doubted that kindness would last. His hero tendencies seemed to be short-lived.

      She hurried back to the living room, looking for her tote and the white bag with her medication. She found both by the end of the couch. As well as she could with the limited movement of her arm, she folded the comforter. Then she saw his shirt wadded up in a ball and half wedged between the arm of the couch and the cushion.

      She vaguely remembered he’d brought her a clean shirt to sleep in. She’d apparently balled up the expensive garment and used it as a pillow. She picked up the shirt, shaking it out. The white cotton was badly wrinkled and covered with dirt and bits of dried leaves. There was also a spot on the front that she feared might be drool. She spread the shirt on the back of the couch and tried to wipe off the debris and smooth the worst of the wrinkles. It didn’t look much better for her effort.

      She sighed, then picked up her bags. Well, he probably wouldn’t be surprised. He already thought very little of her. He’d probably expect her to mistreat a custom-made shirt. She just hoped the drool dried before he woke.

      She headed to the door, only glancing briefly toward the hallway that led to Christian and his perfect body. He might have a perfect body and face and clothes, but the man had problems, she was sure of that. Problems she couldn’t begin to deal with, not when she had her own to sort out. The most immediate of which being how she was going to get through a night of work with this bum shoulder and still pounding head.

      She stepped outside, the bright light doing nothing for the headache. Then she closed the door tightly behind her, hopefully leaving the memories of Christian still sleeping in his bedroom.

      For the first time since Christian moved into the hell that was Shady Fork Mobile Estates, he didn’t wake immediately irritated. Irritated with himself and with the events that brought him to this very low point. Or irritated with the hunger that had to be restrained by a strict diet. Or even irritated with the evil lawn ornaments next door.

      His first thought was of Jolee. How was she? A still unfamiliar sense of concern filled him. But mingled with the concern was an even more foreign emotion. He searched for a name for the feeling. It was almost like…excitement.

      He slipped out of the bed and looked for his pants. Before he even had them fastened, his newly recognized excitement faded. He paused, concentrating on the atmosphere of the trailer. He didn’t feel her presence there. The fourteen by fifty-six foot space was empty as usual.

      Hoping that his senses were just too weak to perceive her, he grabbed a shirt and strode to the living room. But by the time he reached the main room, he knew she was gone. The comforter was folded in the center of the sofa. Above it, his shirt was spread out against the back of the sofa, the arms stretched out wide. A lifeless welcome.

      He ignored the disappointment that smothered the rest of his excitement. She must have gone back to her trailer. That was reasonable. She’d want to shower and change into clean clothes. He tugged on the shirt he carried, then went to get his shoes.

      Other than the outside light, her trailer was dark. She could be asleep, he decided as he bounded up her steps. He knocked, but heard nothing from inside. He concentrated, but he didn’t feel her presence there either. He tried the doorknob. The whole knob encasement wiggled loosely in his hand. The door clicked open. She really needed to fix that.

      He stepped into the dark trailer, still not able to pick up her presence. Spicy sweetness scented the whole place, but it was a lingering scent, not a fresh one. He considered searching through the rest of the trailer, but there was no point. She wasn’t here.

      He tried to lock the door, which didn’t catch correctly, so he left it unlocked, as she had. Then he stood on the stoop unsure what to do next. Where was she? Worry and exasperation mingled inside him. She should be resting. What did she have against following the doctor’s orders?

      What if she’d gotten ill, and decided she needed to go back to the doctor? Certainly he would have been no help if that happened in the daylight. Had she gone to another neighbor for assistance? Maybe he’d go by the hospital, just to check. He started back across the road to get his keys, when cinnamon and warm honey overwhelmed his senses. The scent was there, a definite cloud of perfume, right in the middle of the road.

      The fragrance was the same type as in her trailer, waning, but still strong enough for him to sense. Pleased, he walked a little farther down the road. Her scent grew just subtly stronger. He couldn’t believe his dwindled abilities would allow him to find her. Apparently vampires were like dogs and scent was the last thing to go. He did sense her, and he intended to follow the faint trail left for him like an olfactory version of breadcrumbs.

      She must have gone wherever she went the other nights he’d seen her walking. As hurt and sore as she was, she’d still gone to her nightly destination. Why? The path led him back up the main road, and he quickly realized that she’d been walking home from this place last night, when he’d nearly hit her. He passed the spot, rubber from his tires lining the road.

      Her trail only went a few yards beyond that point, and for the first time, he noticed a building set back from the road. A painted