Shiloh Walker - Telling Tales

“What’s going on, Miss Law? What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Kellan?” she demanded.

“Darci, he wants you to stay inside,” Hank said flatly, taking her arm and trying to guide her back up the walk.

She jerked her arm away and planted herself in Hank’s face, poking him in the chest as she demanded, “Tell me where Kellan is. What in the hell is going on?”

His face softened and she felt a flush rise in her cheeks as the sympathy darkened his faded gray eyes. “He’s probably back at the hospital. Talking to Peggy Ralley.”

Darci’s jaw dropped and she felt her shoulders slump. “Not another one. Damn it, what is going on?”

Hank patted her shoulder. “Maybe I didn’t make that clear, Miss Law. He’s questioning Peggy Ralley. She showed up at the hospital this afternoon, blood splattering her shirt. Pulled a gun on the Sheriff. Turns out the gun wasn’t loaded. Possible that she wanted him to shoot her. They disarmed her somehow-I don’t know the details. But I’d say it’s over.”

The phone finally rang. Five and half hours after he’d told her that he thought he was in love with her, and then hung up on her. Oh, it had rung a few times before, just shortly after Hank told her about Peggy.

But it had been everybody but Kellan. Becka, Clive, Brittany…each time, she’d gotten off the phone with a curtness that bordered on outright rudeness, not wanting to talk to anybody but Kellan.

The phone rang again and she grabbed it, the strength leaving her knees as Kellan’s low voice murmured in her ear, “Wasn’t sure if you’d still be awake.”

She laughed shakily and said, “Well, I could have tried to go to bed. But I doubt I would have gotten any sleep, considering what you said right before you hung up on me.”

“Well, everything kind of went down pretty fast,” Kellan said softly. “I need to talk to you…but I know it’s late.”

She stared at the clock as the hour hand finally ticked to midnight and she shook her head. “I don’t care how late it is. I want to talk to you, too.”

Moments later, she lowered the phone, the dial tone sounding. Softly, she whispered, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too.”

Spinning around, she went to the bathroom, and stared at her reflection. Her hair stood up in wild spikes and she winced, grabbing some hair goop and slicking it through her hair, taming the wild tresses, smoothing the sides, fluffing the top a little.

Darci licked her lips nervously. Maybe I should go put on something…well, something more than a tank top and boxer shorts. But lingerie was so predictable. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to wait for him naked.

Makeup?

No. Not when it was past midnight. She turned away from her reflection and stomped out of the bathroom. Food. Food was good. Chances are, he hadn’t eaten, and come to think of it, she was kind of hungry.

There was stuff for lasagna, but that took so long. Spaghetti? No, not in the middle of the night.

Sandwiches. That would work. She grabbed the bread and tossed it on the counter. Roast beef, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, mayo, spicy mustard. Did he like spicy mustard?

She stared at the ingredients spread out in front of her for a long moment and then buried her face in her hands.

“I’m in love with a guy and I don’t even know what he likes on his sandwiches.”

Blowing out a breath, she washed her hands and then grabbed a couple of plates and a butter knife. If he liked spicy mustard, then he could add it to the sandwich himself. Right?

Right.

Her stomach screamed noisily at her as she finished the sandwiches and stood at the counter, eating hers. Maybe her belly would stop jumping if it wasn’t so empty.

She hoped.

But then the knock came on the door and she pressed a hand to her belly, the butterflies still raging. Nope. Didn’t work. But at least she wouldn’t pass out from hunger, right?

Nerves, embarrassment, panic…but not hunger.

Dropping her half-eaten sandwich on the plate, she left the kitchen, muttering to herself, “Why am I so nervous?”

Because she hadn’t once thought about what would happen beyond today. Hell, with all the insane things happening right now, and the nocturnal visits from nameless people, she had thought a time or two that maybe she wouldn’t have a tomorrow.

And this was much more nerve-racking than the memory of that pale face in her window. After all, she knew what that person had basically wanted. To scare her to death.

But Kellan…what did he want?

She opened the door slowly, staring at his face with wide eyes, catching her lip between her teeth. He looked exhausted. Stepping aside, she asked quietly, “Have you eaten anything?”

He grimaced. “No. Haven’t had time to think about it,” he said, shrugging.

Catching his hand, she led him into the kitchen and took the second sandwich, pushing the plate into his hand. A surprised look entered his eyes, a smile slowly edging up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he murmured. He dropped into the chair and for a moment, just rested his elbows on the table, weariness in every line of his body.

Her heart clenched when he lifted his head, meeting her eyes as she stared at him from across the room. Something dark and hungry entered his gaze and then he looked away, reaching down to pick up the sandwich.

She spun away, that look striking her to the core, heating her belly, tightening her nipples. Flipping open the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of wine. “I’m going to have some wine. You want a glass? Or a soft drink?”

Kellan studied her bent head, his eyes running over her and settling on the fine tremor of her hands. “You seem a little nervous,” he murmured, lowering his half-eaten sandwich to the table and leaning back in the chair, watching as she pressed her hands to the counter, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a deep breath.

“Ummm…maybe a little.” She tugged the cork out of the half-empty bottle of wine and he was silent as she poured herself a glass and upended it, drinking half of it and then topping her glass off before she poured a second glass and turned around.

Kellan rose from the table and met her halfway across the room, taking it from her, lifting it to his lips, holding her stare all the while. He could see the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly. The wine slid down his throat, warm and smooth as liquid gold, and he took one more sip before setting it down and taking hers away, putting it on the table as well.

“Why?”

She blinked, staring at him owlishly, licking her lips. “Why what?” she whispered huskily.

“Why are you nervous?” he murmured, lowering his head to brush his lips against the pulse in her throat.

“I-” her voice squeaked and then a shaky sigh slipped out of her.

“Because of what I said on the phone?”

“A little.”

He trailed a gentle line of kisses up her neck, nuzzling the sweet-smelling hair just behind her ear before he asked, “Good nervous? Or bad nervous?”

“I haven’t decided yet… I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” he asked before he brushed his lips over her mouth. The scent of her skin flooded his head, making it hard to think beyond the scent and the feel of her.

“Been in love with anybody.”

His heart beat a rapid tattoo in his chest but he kept his voice level. “Are you in love now?”

“I think so…and I’m scared to death,” she said shakily.

Lifting his head, he smiled slightly, cupping her face in his hands as he stared into her emerald green eyes. “Me, too. I tried pretty damn hard to stay away from you, Darci. You are more than I’m prepared to handle,” he said quietly. “I knew this would happen.”