Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(26)

She ran her eyes up his body lazily, finally meeting his eyes. “Where are the others?”

He leaned closer, his voice a low growl. “You’ll have to find them.”

Her breath caught at the insinuation that she might be in a position to find them tonight.

“Do you have any?” he asked.

“Only one.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded, her lips tilting up at his surprised expression. “What?”

“I don’t know. You seem sort of . . . sheltered.”

“I’m not as sheltered as I might look,” she said.

“Is that right?” He dropped an elbow to the glass display case as he let his eyes trace down her body slowly. She could feel the heat of them through her merchant costume, which consisted of a royal blue and red princess gown with a tight, gold-embroidered bodice around her chest and waist. His eyes lingered on the soft, small swell of her breasts before meeting her eyes again. “So? Where is it?”

She dropped her elbow next to his and leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. “I guess you’ll have to find it.”

His eyes widened and dilated to black, his nostrils flaring as he stared back at her. Sexy beast, she thought. There you are.

“Colt, quit leaning on my display case unless you’re buying something,” said Beverly with annoyance, walking around the counter to face them.

“I’m buying something,” he said, without looking away from Verity, who straightened away from him and blushed.

Though there wasn’t a rule in the employee handbook against dating coworkers (yes, she’d checked), and everyone already knew she and Ryan stayed at Colton’s house, she wasn’t anxious to get the rumor mill grinding any more than it already was by adding a budding romance to the equation. She’d just as soon they keep a low profile until she figured out what was happening between them.

“What’ll it be?’ asked Beverly.

Colton pointed to the pewter Yggdrasil. “That one.”

“Ah. Verity’s favorite.”

“Oh, it’s not my—”

“You’re only looking at it all the time,” said Beverly tartly, taking it out of the display case and arranging it in a little black velvet box. She looked up at Colton. “You want a bag?”

He shook his head no, pulling out his wallet and handing her two twenty-dollar bills before tucking the small box in his jeans pocket.

Beverly gave him his change with a shit-eating grin.

“Guess you can go for the day,” she said to Verity, “since your . . . ride’s here.”

It occurred to Verity to set Beverly straight and tell her that she and Colton were just friends, but the word friend sounded so hollow in her ears—so different from the way she actually felt about Colton Lane—she couldn’t make herself say it.

Instead she smiled warmly at Beverly, unclipping her name tag and putting it on the counter in front of her supervisor. “Thanks. See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” said Beverly, picking up her phone and typing out a text as Verity followed Colton away from the shop.

“She’s going to talk about us,” said Verity.

“Everyone’s already talking about us,” he answered.

“Buying that necklace was just more grist for the mill.”

“Maybe it’s not for you,” he muttered.

“It’s unnerving . . . to be a topic of gossip.”

They were halfway across the empty hall when he put his hand on her arm and stopped walking. She turned around and faced him, searching his face, surprised to see anger etched into his features.

“Are you rethinking tonight?” he asked.

“No.”

“Because if you don’t want to have a date with me,” he almost snarled, “just say it. Don’t blame it on rumors that already—”

“Stop.” She took a step closer to him, surprised by his outburst and anxious to reassure him. Her hand wanted to touch him—to move to his arm, to his cheek, to his neck—but Beverly was still looking on, so she clenched her fingers into a fist and met his eyes instead, pouring everything she was feeling into the way she gazed up at him. “I can’t stop thinking about tonight. It’s all I’ve thought about since Monday. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I’m not rethinking anything.”

He’d been holding his breath as he waited for her to speak, and now he released it in a hiss, nodding his head. “Okay.”

She smiled. “I’d reach for your hand right now if Beverly wasn’t looking.”

“Fuck Beverly.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We work here.” And I still don’t know where this is going.

“Fine,” he said, turning toward the side door that led to the stables. “Then let’s get your brother and go somewhere we don’t work, deal?”

“Deal,” she said, falling into step beside him, feeling happy again and excited about tonight. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“What?”

“How come Artie gets to win every night?”

“I win on Sundays,” he reminded her.

“Right, but doesn’t he win, like, ninety percent of the shows?”