“In school…” Tucker said, his strained tone giving her the impression he was trying to fill the sudden silence. “They used to say I had a face only a mother could love, but that didn’t turn out to be true, either.”
“You feel beautiful,” Mary said, fingers curling on the bathroom doorjamb. “T-to me.”
“I, uh…thanks.” Tucker was silent so long, she started to worry he’d left the room. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep, kid?” he said, finally, his voice low. “I’ll wake you up when the sun goes down.”
Mary advanced into the room. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep in the daytime.”
“Ah. Yeah.” He sounded chagrined. “Of course not. I’ll put on the television.”
A few seconds later, the jingles and cheers of a game show filled the air, followed by bed springs creaking. She followed the noise, second-guessing herself all the way. He’d broken contact with her. Maybe he didn’t want it or it made him uncomfortable. But she didn’t want to lie down in this strange place and have her nerves come bowling back in. She’d felt so much better while holding Tucker’s hand, so she padded her way over to him and stretched out on the same bed where he sat back against the headboard.
Slowly, she wound their fingers back together and gathered their joined hands to her cheek, falling asleep minutes later to the sound of a jackpot being struck.
Chapter 6
Tucker turned the cheap spoon over and over in his hand, willing the waitress to appear. Something to distract him so he wouldn’t stare at the vision sitting across from him. Mary was still slightly rumpled from sleep and kind of disoriented, because the second the sun had gone down, he’d woken her up, needing to get them out of the room. Off the bed. Pronto.
Over the course of the day, she’d rolled closer and closer until she’d been lying with her head on his chest, her fist curled on his generous belly, a bare foot tucked between his knees.
It was never like this. The thirst.
His throat was dryer than unbuttered toast, his stomach yawning wide. Waiting.
Usually he could go a week and a half without consuming blood. But there was something about Mary’s pulse that made him ravenous. It beat faster when they were touching, too, and that confused the shit out of Tucker. What did she want from him?
Not sex. The idea was laughable. Because of her blindness, she didn’t realize they were on opposite ends of the hotness scale. That had to be the reason for the increased tempo of her pulse every time they were close. Lying in bed with her back in the motel room, it had been so tempting to pretend they were just a normal couple on a break from the ordinary. A man who would roll between his woman’s welcoming thighs upon waking, their eagerness to fuck spiking, leading to roughness. To gasps and nails marks and squeaking bed springs.
God, he needed to stop.
Those thoughts were dangerous to his peace of mind. They made him need too deeply. Made him uncomfortably hungry for something that couldn’t happen, as badly as his body seemed to require it. More than his body, though. It went deeper. Like an undiscovered part of his internal makeup. A new organ. And her name was written all over it.
The buzz of Tucker’s cell phone diverted his attention. He took out the device, silencing it when he saw the king was calling. Jonas would have to wait, though. At least until Tucker could figure out how to explain how he’d ended up as Mary’s chauffeur, thus aiding the enemy.
“What can I get you folks?” asked the waitress, sidling up to the table.
With the practice of someone who worked night shifts at a roadside diner, she only spared Mary’s light-up crown the barest glance.
“I don’t know.” A crease formed between Mary’s brows. “What’s good?”
The waitress sighed wearily. “I don’t know, hon. Pie? Milkshakes?”
Mary perked up. “Oh, I’ll have a milkshake, please. Strawberry.”
“Nothing for me,” Tucker said, forcing his expression to remain stoic, even though it made him nothing short of wistful watching Mary get excited for a milkshake. “You ever had one?” he asked as the waitress walked away.
“No. We don’t need to eat much. But when I do, I like sugar.” She tilted her head slightly. “Do you miss eating?”
“You have no idea.” Her giggle made the corner of his mouth edge up. “Eating used to be my favorite pastime. If I had a soul, I would sell it for a meatball sub. Straight up.”
Mary reared back. “You don’t think you have a soul?”
He hedged, digging the spoon into the pad of his thumb. “Truthfully…I’m not sure. I’ve met a lot of vamps that were soulless. Others seem just a step away from humanity. All of their emotions were still there.”