Etienne (The Shifters of Shotgun Row Book 1) Page 4

  I knew the bear too well.

  No way he was taking my female anywhere. The female. Tansy. Her. I shook my head and walked down the hall. Discomfort was written all over her face. She was stuck.

  “Hey, Tansy. I thought I heard you when I came in. Thanks, Bruno. I’ll take it from here.”

  I ignored his chuff when I slid between him and Tansy.

  “Now, wait a minute, Etienne. Maybe this is business we both need to handle.” When he smiled, he revealed something brown between his bottom teeth.

  “Tansy, is this business or personal?” I winked at her. My best attempt at giving her a hint. Even if she was here for business—which I could tell by her smell she wasn’t—it would be with me and not the slimy bear.

  “Oh, it’s personal. I wanted to talk about last night.”

  That’s my girl.

  “Was there a disturbance?”

  He flopped back into the conversation.

  “No, Etienne came to the house to help me with something. But he had to go suddenly.”

  “I did. Why don’t you come back to my office?”

  Bruno just couldn’t take a hint. “Let’s not be hasty, Etienne. Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone with you in there. Females, um, women have to be careful these days.”

  Tansy’s smile could’ve shunned the devil himself. “I trust Etienne. It’s fine. Show me the way?”

  She came around the desk and got in front of me and away from Bruno. Good instincts.

  “This way.”

  Bruno recognized my growl. It was territorial. This was my mate.

  Kind of.

  Well, whatever she was, she wasn’t his to play with.

  “What’s up?” I shut the door and offered her a seat.

  “You didn’t come to the bakery this morning. I mi…I wanted to see you. Meemaw says you never miss a day. Ever. Did I do something wrong?”

  Tansy

  Etienne’s eyes lowered at my almost confession of missing him, almost sad instead of cocky like most guys would’ve done, and then it clicked. I’d frecked up again and referred to Meemaw as still speaking to me. That glance he was giving was pity. I was so super amazing at making things awkwardly weird. Too bad there was no way to monetize that.

  “She told me you never miss.” I emphasized my use of the past tense even though it had been less than an hour ago when she convinced me to go see him. “And you weren’t there, and I thought maybe I needed to apologize or something.”

  “Apologize? Hardly, I just was dealing with things at home and ran out of time.” His eyes kept shifting to the door, which made sense, since the skeevies I felt earlier with Bruno were now touching the back of my neck. Something was not right about the man. He had yet to do anything I could pinpoint as wrong, but he oozed creeper.

  “It’s getting on lunch hour?” Subtlety was apparently thrown out the window along with my pride. Good fairy. I kissed him so badly he ran away, and here I was begging him for a lunch date because he missed coming into my bakery this morning.

  Stage twelve clinger in the house.

  Not that I even wanted to date him, because I so didn’t. No boys for me. Been there. Done that. Own the scars, thank you very much. Even if he is the hottest man in the entire stinkin’ Universe and kisses like…like that moment is everything.

  And it kinda was, except that was cray cray. But it wasn’t. Arrrg, why did I let Meemaw convince me this was a good idea. And why did he still smell like bacon?

  “I can walk you back so you don’t miss the rush.” He grabbed his keys off his desk, and shoved them in his pocket. Why did I need to watch him do that? Now, all I could do was look at the way his uniform highlighted all the sexy he was. I had never understood the whole men-in-uniform thing until that very moment. Yummmm. He could wear that all the time, and I’d be a happy girl. If I wanted to be around him all the time, which of course I didn’t.

  “I’m off for the day.” Apparently, I was sticking with subtlety.

  “So, lunch?”

  I counted to five, trying to look like he hadn’t offered exactly what I wanted. Maybe it wasn’t my wretched smooch face clinging that had him running last night. Maybe he’d remembered he left his iron on or had someone waiting for him. A rock fell in my belly. Nope, not a guest. It had to be the iron.

  “I’m still learning subtle, as you saw last night.” And filters it would seem. What about him had my brain flying south for winter early.

  “We can talk about that on our way to lunch.” He gave a quick glance to the door behind me. Dimes to dollars, Bruno was listening to us. What was his damage?

  “So, it’s not my imagination.”

  “No. He is a certifiable asshole.” He raised his voice as he spoke, and I barely contained my laughter.

  “I hear you,” Bruno called from behind the door, which Etienne took and swung open with gusto, probably hoping to catch the creepster off guard. That would’ve been fab.

  “You were meant to.” He stomped forward, grabbing my hand and taking me with him. Strong, forceful, yummy Etienne. Mine. Arrrg, where did that come from? Not mine. I’m a solo gal. Trust is for the weak.

  “I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off,” Etienne called over his shoulder in an I-could-give-two-freaks fashion.

  Behind Bruno stood a scowling young man, dressed in modern clothing but without actual, you know, substance. This flippin’ town was all ghosts all the time. I focused on looking like I hadn’t seen him. The last thing I wanted was to have him talking to me here. Etienne already thought I was on the loopy side.

  “You can’t just do that.” Bruno’s arms folded around his; he looked more like a toddler throwing a fit than a boss.

  “It is my day for desk duty, and all the paperwork is done. I have comp time to burn. Policy dictates I can.”

  He led me outside into the humid day. This place was like breathing water.

  “I didn’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.” It was true. Although hearing him take a stand to spend time with me didn’t stink. Not one tiniest of bits.

  “I live to piss him the fuck off. Don’t worry.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders before blinking over his. Tormenting Bruno. Good on him. “We have two choices, diner or bar.”

  “Whoever makes the best BLT.” Because bacon.

  Etienne

  “Best BLT down here is at T-Mac’s. It’s not on the menu, though. Only for locals.”

  She gave me a look. “Really? Is it like gator bacon or something weird?”

  I tried like hell not to openly cringe about the thought of my belly being fried to a crisp and served next to a stack of pancakes.

  “There’s no such thing as gator bacon, darlin’. It’s just an item Melissa doesn’t put on the menu. Next time you need something, just call the station, and I’ll come wherever you are. I’d prefer if you not get too close to Bruno. Trust me.”

  She stopped walking, and immediately I missed the clicking of her heels on the sidewalk.

  “You’d prefer I didn’t get around him? Look, I know my granny told you to watch over me or whatever, but no one, and I mean no one, tells me what to do or who to talk to.”

  Her feisty attitude kicked up the hint of cinnamon in her smell and my overwhelming desire to shove her into the nearest alley and take advantage of her full lips again.

  “I’m not telling you what to do, Tansy. And anything I suggest you do is only for your own safety and well-being. You got it? I don’t tell other people what to do—especially people I...I just don’t.”

  “Well, next time, change the tone. That growly tone makes everything you say sound like you’re angry.”

  I grunted. She was probably right. But what could I say? Alligators are ornery. Period.

  “Yes ma’am,” I said, like a good Southern boy should, and ushered her into T-Mac’s with my hand on her lower back. The place was older than dirt. They claimed it had been open for a hundred years, and from the age of the old cypress beams on
the ceiling, I didn’t doubt it for one second.

  The place went dead still as we entered, our shadows cast on the floor against the light from the sun coming through the open door.

  “This place is really old,” Tansy whispered, placing one hand over her heart.

  “Let’s get a table in the back,” I suggested, only so the human didn’t get stared to death.

  I got another glare. “It’s just quiet back there. I’ll be a good boy—mostly.”

  She quelled a smile, and I got a waft of fear in the air. Certainly, she wasn’t scared of me. Maybe she was.

  “Okay. As long as you behave.” Her lips said to behave, but her side-to-side sexy walk said, please don’t. Tansy’s walking contradiction caused me some serious walking issues myself.

  The other shifters in the room gave me the side-eye, but there was nothing really they could do about it. I was more dominant than they were, and if they didn’t like it, I would kill them in a death roll and drag them down to the deepest part of the bayou and let them die slowly.

  And each and every one of them knew it.

  “Your regular, Etienne?” Maggie had a thick Cajun accent.

  “Yes. And a special BLT for this one—double the bacon, right?”

  I was doing it again—ordering for her. She’d probably ream me out for ordering for her.

  “Just a Coke, yes.”

  “What kind?” Maggie snapped her gum and stuck her pen in her mouth, waiting for Tansy.

  “Tansy?” She was lost in some kind of thought. “Maggie is wanting to know what kind of Coke, darlin’.”

  With a shake of her head, she was back with me. “Coke is Coke.”

  “No, around here, Coke means soda. Now she wants to know what kind.”

  “Oh. Just Coke, Coke. Regular normal brown Coke.”

  Maggie got a kick out of that.

  “What’s up with you?” I didn’t know the woman well, but she was definitely acting off.

  Tansy

  “Just realizing how different things are down here, ya know, with the whole Coke thing.” I lied a little too quickly. The last thing I wanted to tell him was a ghost was hanging around Bruno, and, by default, admit I saw the darn things. Part of me wanted to explore his dislike of Bruno a tad bit more to see if he inadvertently gave me a hint as to the dead dude, but more of me wanted to forget about it completely.

  That man was a creeper, and even though I didn’t want Etienne to think he was the feckin’ boss of anyone, I was on the same side as he was at this time. Did he know the guy was bad news or was it just the manly “I don’t want no one sniffin’ around a woman before I decide if I want her” thing? Not that it mattered. Except it did, I wanted him to want me even though I needed to stay as far away from him as possible. Ugg I was such a freckin’ mess.

  “I forget you northerners say pop instead of Coke,” he teased, his eyes not leaving mine. Could he tell I was lyin’? Probably, I always stunk at it. Meemaw said it made me a better person, but look where that got me. Back home they still thought I was a cheating liar-head. Not that they mattered, but still. And graduatin’ would’ve been nice.

  “We don’t say pop. That’s the Midwest. Soda. We drink soda.” I winked back at him, my inability to not flirt frustrating me to no end.

  As if the conversation was her cue, the waitress popped the lasses in front of us. “Your lunch will be a couple more minutes.” Before I could answer she marched off. Weird lady. Actually, the entire place was pretty stinkin’ weirderific now that I thought about it.

  The customers were all locals, to be sure. They had to be, the way they kept staring at me, the newbie. I recognized a couple from the bakery. Meemaw said these small towns took a while to warm up to ya, but once they did, you were good to go. I hoped she was right, because being stared at was far from my favorite pastime.

  “Well, here it’s all Coke. Coke-Sprite, Coke-Coke, even Coke-Pepsi.”

  It was official. This place was weird. How could you give a name brand a generic meaning like that and expect all people to know what in tarnation you were talking about?

  “Guess I’ll stick with iced tea, then. Can’t get that wrong.” I leaned back, finally able to block out the staring and focusing on the conversation at hand. There was something about being around Etienne that was so safe feeling, so bizarre, given the fact I didn’t trust myself around him and his freckin’ muscles of sexy and smile of kissability.

  “Unless you want it unsweetened,” he deadpanned, or was he serious?

  “Which is how it’s made?”

  He shook his head, smirking. I was going to get stuck drinking water here. Good thing we only did coffee and pre-bottled stuff at the bakery. I’d have surely botched that all up by now.

  “No?”

  “No.” His chuckle wrapped around me. How could something so simple as a chuckle do that? This man was officially dangerous. After lunch I was going to work harder at ignoring him before I got myself into a world of hurt. “How’s your lizard?”

  “Remarkably alive.” It was the sad reality of it. I already loved the little guy, even after our first night of catastrophe. He even came to the side of his tank to see me when I walked by. That didn’t mean I was good at the pet-mama thing. “It wasn’t my best bet, getting a pet.”

  “Why did you, then?” He took a long sip of his drink, with me unabashedly watching his lips before I could catch myself. I needed to get some self-control. Stat.

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time?” I offered, not wanting to get into the guilt I was currently holding onto for forgetting to turn off his heat lamp overnight. “He’s kinda cute, though.”

  “If you say so.” He shrugged just as our meals arrived, the waitress far from chatty as she slung them on the table and scampered away. What an odd duck.

  “This is perfect,” I mumbled between bites. “Good call.” The sandwich was everything I’d been craving, and I swore for just a second he puffed up at the compliment, which made little sense, since he had nothing to do with the actual making of said sandwich.

  “Best lunch in town.” He took another bite of his just as the ghost from earlier appeared behind him.

  That was so not how it was supposed to work, unless he was tied to Etienne, not Bruno. Not that I was an expert, but they’d never followed me out of their space before. As far as I knew, Meemaw was stuck at the bakery, not that she ever gave me a clear answer when I hinted about it, but I’d no proof to the contrary.

  I took a chance and met the ghost’s eyes, or hollowness where they should be. That was the creepiest part to me, the eyes. Sometimes I could fool myself into thinking they were just regular people when they hadn’t faded too much yet, but the eyes always brought reality slamming back into me. Once our eyes met, I looked at Etienne, trying my best to ask if he was following him.

  “Not him.” He spoke in a whisper as if he didn’t want the entire place to hear. I took a quick glance around, pretending to stretch out my back so as not to look as if I were seeing who else might be noticing the dead dude. From what I could tell, I was the only one aware of him, but they could just be better at ignoring than I was.

  “Who?” I asked the ghost before I could think better of myself.

  “Who what?” Of course Etienne called me out on it. This was not the first stupid time I messed up in front of him. I needed to cut it out before I became the freak of town, which was probably better than the slut-and-marriage-destroyer of the college, but still not something I aspired to, even if I kinda was.

  “Who else has lunch?” I asked lamely.

  “The bear,” echoed through my ears as the ghost vanished and Etienne went on about something.

  The bear. Shit, gators and man-eating bears in one town. I had been joking about the gun thing, but now I wasn’t so sure. The last thing I needed to do was become bear chow or a gator appetizer. Oh, Meemaw, what have ya ’gotten me into?

  Etienne

  There was something going on. I could
taste the lies coming from her otherwise sweet mouth, and it made my perfect BLT taste a little off. I smelled something akin to fear in the air, but it wasn’t quite that. If I knew her better I would know in a second.

  Maybe it was nervousness.

  Maybe anxiety.

  These were things I wanted to explore.

  Along with her mouth.

  “Do you always lie to your friends?” I asked, hoping to the point would work with her. She seemed like a to-the-point kind of female.

  “Only when I need to.” She zeroed her eyes on mine. “I don’t trust easily, and sometimes I don’t trust at all.”

  “I have to earn your trust. That’s a good thing. Most people trust too fast. Gets them in trouble.”

  She agreed with a nod, picking at her onion rings. “A whole heck of a lot of trouble.”

  I chuckled. This woman had a vocabulary all her own, and I’d heard her beat around the cursing bush more than once. “You don’t curse.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No. I’m sure you can figure out whose influence that was from.”

  “She was a good woman. Always did things for people no one else knew about.”

  Tansy perked up at that just about the time Bruno got up from his table, darting his eyes between Tansy and I—making sure I knew.

  If she weren’t there, I would’ve growled at him.

  “Oh? Like what?”

  I turned my attention back to the curious human in front of me. She was probably too curious for her own good in this town.

  A slip of a smile pulled at my mouth. “Maybe I don’t trust you enough yet.”

  She gasped. “It was my grandmother. I should know if she was helping people so I can continue that part of her. Shame on you.” Her tone was half-serious and half-playful. She had a point, though.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you some of it. There’s a little soup kitchen down the road for people who are down on their luck or just needing a hand. She used to bake ten loaves of homemade bread for them every day and bring it down there. And I saw with my own eyes when she helped Jenny with her kids.”