“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.”
“You’re an unusual woman, did you know that?”
“Wow, a charmer, too? Be still my beating heart I may perish.”
He chuckled, earning more curious stares from their audience.
“All set, Christofer,” Joe said, holding up two small white bags.
“Well, that’s me,” he said, reluctantly getting up.
He really hated leaving her like this. He discreetly scented the air and swallowed a groan. His knees nearly buckled in ecstasy. She smelled so damn good. Type B positive blood, but not like any B positive that he’d ever scented. She smelled mouthwatering. The only downside, she wasn't a virgin. Virgin blood was like fillet mignon to him and would have made a rather welcomed treat today.
There was still something about her blood that drew him…..
He inhaled again. Her scent was far more inviting than any virgin’s. Damn, as he forced himself to go up to the counter he actually contemplated breaking the promise that he’d made to his sister by taking this woman out back and draining her.
It had been forty years since he’d promised not to feed from the source and he’d never come closer to breaking his word than today. He looked back at Cloe who was now reading a pamphlet on Alzheimer’s. If he drained this young woman his sister would never know.
Cloe didn’t live in town. Otherwise he would have definitely noticed her by now. Maybe she was visiting someone? Or maybe just passing through town and stopping to fill a prescription? If that were the case then Marta would never know that he took her.
Shit.
He felt his eyes start to burn and his gums throb as his fangs slid down. Casually, he pulled up his hood as he signed for his sister’s medication. He could do this. Marta would never know. If she did find out he would simply explain about the draw this woman’s blood had on him and hope that she didn't go after him with that damn cane of hers. His stomach growled as her scent grew stronger.
He didn’t need to turn his head to know that she was now standing next to him. Joe must have waved her over. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pharmacist push a small white paper bag towards her.
“Thank you,” Cloe said as she signed for her medication.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her out for coffee, lunch, anything to get her out of this store and away from human eyes when she said, “See you around, Hoodie. I mean, Christofer,” she added with a wink.
He froze.
She was staying in town?
Shit!
His stomach roared in protest, demanding a taste of the blood that was starting to drive him out of his f**king mind. Cloe playfully patted his stomach, sending a new awareness through his system and making his c**k twitch in pleasure. It took him by surprise, robbing him of the ability to breathe as he struggled to get his body under control. He hadn’t allowed himself to react to a woman in nearly fifty years and he didn’t want to now, but it looked as though what he wanted no longer mattered.
“You might want to feed him,” Cloe said with a wink as she stepped past him. He watched as she bent over to pick up a red shopping basket and nearly growled. Did she know how delectable that little round ass of hers was?
Without a backwards glance, she headed down an aisle. Damn it! If he stayed here any longer he’d follow her down that aisle and drain her. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. For a moment he stood there, struggling with the need to go after her. A not-so-discreet cough reminded him of the reason why he couldn’t. With one last glance in the direction that she’d disappeared, he grabbed his sister’s prescriptions and practically stormed out of the store. He jumped into his car and drove the usual five minute ride home in two.
He slammed the car door shut, rocking the car, and headed for the back door of the large white farmhouse that could really use a paint job. Once inside, he dropped the medication on the kitchen table and headed for the basement. He hesitated at the door for a moment as he contemplated going out back and getting back to work, but the loud yawn that escaped him reminded him that he’d spent the better part of the last week working and could really use some sleep.