Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(100)

A rhythmic thud came from the backyard. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of art Brandon did and if that was him making that noise. But not wanting to come off as nosy, she pulled out her black display board and fit the small hooks into the board, then started pulling out her jewelry. As her gaze passed over the name scrawled across the bottom, she pushed the hurt aside.

While the sounds outside continued, the house grew too quiet. An awkward kind of silence thickened the air. “Your brother said he was interviewing other jewelry artists. I’m hoping he’ll appreciate my work.”

When Linda didn’t answer, Fredericka looked around. The woman was gone. But damn, she moved soundlessly. With Fredericka’s were hearing she didn’t miss much. Fighting a chill, the wind chimes started up again. The sound was almost sad.

She hung her last necklace—even rearranged the placement of one pair of earrings. Looking around to make sure Linda hadn’t returned, Fredericka inched closer to the window, wanting a peek at the man who would judge her. Her breath caught when she saw the sculpture. The wooden horse stood at least six feet tall. Carved to perfection, each dip and valley on the animal showed bone and muscle.

Then her gaze shifted to the second very nice piece of art. Only this one was flesh and blood. Standing with his back to her, the dark-haired artist wore jeans, and the faded blue denim nicely fit the lower half of his body, showcasing his own perfection.

Equally nice was the shirtless upper part of his body. He pulled the axe out of the large piece of tree trunk and brought it down again.

She admired the way his body moved, muscles rolling under light olive skin. This time however, when he pulled the axe out of the wood and swung the tool up, she saw it. The side of his torso.

Air locked in her chest as she studied his scars.

Burn marks.

She knew, because she’d stared at her own too long. He shifted his stance, and gave her a view of his profile. He bore a scar on the left side of his cheek, then another one on the left side of his forehead. They weren’t as bad as the one on his side, not puckered, just a slight discoloration, and the skin looked pulled a little tight.

All of a sudden, as if he sensed someone watching, he swung around. His eyes, blue, bright blue like a summer sky, met hers. His gaze and his frown became so intense, she felt trapped.

He snatched up a shirt hanging over a patio table and she recalled doing the same thing yesterday when she’d heard Kylie coming to the workshop.

She should have looked away, offering him a bit of privacy, but she couldn’t. Instead, she watched him slip his arms into the shirt and tackle one button at a time.

One.

Two.

Three.

He was covering that beautiful chest.

But good God, she shouldn’t be watching. Especially when he watched her watch.

It wasn’t until that last button was secured that she snapped out of it. She turned and stared instead at his art. But her gaze didn’t stay there. She glanced back at him.

There was just something … raw and feral about this guy. And it both fascinated and scared her. That was a first. She’d never found herself the least bit fascinated, or scared, of a human.

Or was he even … human?

Right then he snagged a baseball cap off the table and slipped it on, covering his forehead, and covering the pattern only supernaturals could see to identify species. With a definite frown in place and his shoulders tight as if in defense mode, he hurried inside. His pace, his intensity reminded her of a … wolf.

One about to attack. And she was his prey.

“Can … I … help you?” His voice came out deep and masculine, his frustration clear in his clipped tone. He gave the door a good swing behind him and it slammed with a whack.

She jumped. “I … I’m Fredericka Lakota.” Her voice shook, and her skin felt supersensitive, like just before a shift. What was it about this guy?

Then a better question hit. What was this guy? She lifted her gaze up to his forehead again. The hat covered it. She inhaled, trying to pick up on his scent. She got human, but … maybe something else.

He stood there for a second, his expression shifting away from anger. He gave the bib of his hat a good tug. “I’m sorry, I … completely forgot about the appointment. I do that when I’m starting a new piece.”

“No problem. I do that, too.”

He glanced at the display board standing up on his table. He eased in, offering her only the right side of his face, no doubt to keep his scars out of her line of vision.

“I’m guessing this is yours?” He motioned to her display.

“Yes.” As soon as his gaze shifted from her eyes, hers shifted back to his face, trying to see under his cap’s bib to catch a glimpse of his pattern. She even leaned in a bit.

He unexpectedly shifted his gaze back to her and caught her staring.

She glanced away, too quickly, and damn it she knew he thought she was looking at his scar. She almost wanted to explain, but what could she say, I was just checking to see if you were human? Yeah, that would go over like a fart in church.

“These are silver, right?” he asked, glancing away, but not before she saw emotion touch his eyes. She wouldn’t call it embarrassment, but it was something close. That feeling one got when they were exposed and wished they weren’t.

And damn it, but she knew that feeling so well.