Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(6)

“It’s not my fault if everyone assumes that I’m asleep,” he explained, deciding that it couldn’t hurt to kill some time talking with this odd woman.

She arched a perfectly shaped brow at that. “Yes, you’re right. I often wear a hooded sweatshirt to the drugstore and pretend to be asleep just to play mind games with the populace.”

“Do you really?” he asked, a small chuckle that sounded a bit rusty and unpracticed escaping him and making him realize that it had been too damn long since anyone had made him laugh.

She ran a hand through her hair. Mesmerized, he watched as her hair fell back in place. “All the time,” she murmured as she looked around the store.

The two gossiping men and the young woman, who’d been reading, looked over and scowled in their direction. If the young woman sitting next to him was bothered by the attention it didn’t show.

“I don’t think they like you,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, knowing that their glares were solely meant for him. When they heard him, they glared harder, sending the silent message that played like a broken record at this point, the one that told him to get the hell out of their town.

“Oh no, I shall have to end it all tonight at the stroke of midnight after professing my undying love for my favorite boy band in my pink lacey diary,” she said in such a slow and toneless manner that he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there a problem? Is he bothering you?” one of the elderly men barked in demand.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, shrugging off the elderly man’s concerns.

“Christofer, your prescriptions are almost done,” the pharmacist announced, shooting the woman beside him a nervous glance and leaving no doubt in his mind whatsoever that his order had been rushed to get him out of the store and away from the young woman who’d made the mistake of sitting next to him.

“Thank you,” Christofer said as he leaned back against the bench, not really caring if he was making anyone nervous. He was enjoying himself, probably for the first time in years. It also didn’t hurt that the woman sitting next to him was giving off a mouthwatering aroma.

“So, you’re a Christofer, huh?” she asked in an amused tone.

“Yes, and you are….,” he prompted.

She looked thoughtful for a minute. “Sorry, I don’t go around telling strange hooded men my name anymore.”

“Was there a time when you did?”

“Oh definitely, it was about a week ago.” She cocked her head to the side as she studied his cloaked figure. “You have really bad timing.”

He chuckled. “Damn, I guess I do,” he said on a heavy sigh. He sat up and pushed the hood off his head, expecting her to act like every other mindless hormonal woman and fawn over him. It was too bad since he was actually enjoying her company.

She didn’t bat an eye as she said, “Nice hair,” and went back to looking around the store.

Self-consciously, he ran a hand over his hair only to discover that it was sticking up in places thanks to his hood. This was an unexpected pleasure. Not that he was shallow or anything, but women in his experience generally took one look at him and acted like lovesick fools. He rather liked her indifferent attitude.

*-*-*-*

“Your name?” he asked again. “You can tell me now since I'm no longer a cloaked stranger, but a man with a serious case of hat hair. Surely I’m harmless enough.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she mused, trying to ignore the impulse to stare at him. He was far too handsome for his own good with short, golden blonde hair that reminded her of a perfect sunrise, bright laughing blue eyes and a chiseled face that made him hotter than any man that she’d ever seen or probably ever would.

His eyebrows came together over that comment. “Why would you say that?”

She looked pointedly around the suddenly quiet pharmacy. “Because you just gave every woman in this store heart failure.” After a short pause she added, “Except for one of course.”

He looked around the store only to realize that every woman had stopped talking, shopping, and apparently breathing, just to stare at him. Great, just what he needed. He normally kept his head covered to avoid this kind of aggravation.

“It’s really not funny,” he muttered when she laughed, a low, rich laugh that had him wishing that she’d do it again just so that he could savor the sound.

“Oh, I beg to differ. It’s rather entertaining.”

He shook his head in disbelief. Who was this woman?

“I know that I’ve earned your name now.”

She sat back and glanced at the women, who quickly pretended to go back to shopping. “I guess I do owe you something for the entertainment even if it was only for a moment.”

“I rather think that you do.”

“Cloe.”

“Cloe?”

“That’s my name. Do you prefer Christofer or can I call you Hoodie?” she teased with a sexy little smile that grabbed his attention and held it.

He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to make it behave. “As much as I would love a nickname like that, I’m afraid that you’ll have to settle for Christofer.”

She sighed theatrically. “Well, I guess I can’t get everything that I want in life. Damn shame too. I was really looking forward to knowing a man named Hoodie. Now the dream is over.”