Page 4 of Stranded with a Wounded Vampire

“I know your name.”

“Oh, you do? Well I know your name too and it’s nice to see you again.” I lift my box. “I'm not sure if you also know that I own a bakery in town. I am here to bring you some of my donuts.”

His brow furrows, but his gaze shifts to the box and I can see I’ve now caught his attention. “I didn't order donuts.”

“Oh, I know. I know that. I'm just here because?—”

“I need to pay for these?”

“No. Oh gosh. No, no. Let me start over. My name is Willow Brand. And I am here because after we, uh, met that time in the grocery store, I wanted to meet you again. You left so quickly last time, I guess I was worried I offended you. Maybe we need a do over? I'm not here to sell you donuts or cupcakes. I wanted to bring a personal gift and since baking is all I know how to do well.” And now, since I’m nervous I start to babble. “I mean, I can't write books. Nobody wants me to work on their finances. I can’t fix plumbing. I couldn’t change my own tire, even in the midst of an emergency. And I suck at gardening. There are so many things I cannot do but I can…”

“Make these treats?” he questions.

“Yes. I own a bakery in town and I sell my donuts to Catalano’s Market.”

“I’ve eaten those treats.”

“Yes. Do you remember when we met for a moment in that grocery store?”

He gives a curt nod.

“Well…” I shift on my feet again, because I'm now a little uncomfortable. I thought at this point he would have invited me inside so we could at least talk for a minute instead of leaving me on the doorstep. This does not bode well. Which causes me to continue to nervously overshare. “Like I said, I wanted to make sure I hadn’t accidentally offended you in any way. I'm also here to welcome you to our town and offer my friendship and in the process, give you some donuts because this is something that we do here. When people are new to a neighborhood, we often will bring them food and greet them.” I offer him the pretty pink box.

He shakes his head and sighs like this is the most difficult moment of his life.

And I am concerned that I have made a terrible error.

Even though we're not standing all that close he smells so good. And I’m now shifting on my feet to relieve the ache between my thighs. This is what happened too that first time I was next to him at the store. This is why I’m here, because I’ve basically never in my life been so suddenly, over-the-top attracted to another man.

Does he feel the same? Is it only me?

Can we have something here between us or will there be nothing and me left with my shameful attraction?

“Leave the donuts right there,” he orders, pointing to the ground. “And you have to go right now.”

My jaw drops open and I stare at him for a minute because ever since I started my business I've never had anyone be so blatantly rude like this to me.

Usually, my baked goods bring joy.

I think back to the time spent baking, creating and picking these out for him, driving up here, for nothing. He's telling me to put them down and leave. I mean, not that I thought that this was going to be something major, but I didn't expect rudeness. I guess I thought he’d maybe take a bite from one and tell me it tasted good. Or just some smiles and thank you and later he could tell me how much he liked it.

Cake-making is a symbiotic relationship.

I make the cupcakes and I need to have an audience that eats them, otherwise my performance art is incomplete. And I need to know the customer’s reaction because then later it improves my quality. How can I make this better? How can I make more of what they want? Less of what they don't want? So being told after all that, “put them right there and then leave”…I'm cut to the core.

His jaw clenches.

“Okay,” I squeak and put the box down.

“You need to leave,” he repeats. “Our meeting at the store was a mistake. Go now and never come back. This is for your own good. I do this for you.”

I have no idea what he's talking about. How could this possibly be good for me? I nod and turn on my heel.

Okay. I was wrong.

Bruce Bloodworth does not feel the same about me as I do about him.

I swiftly move down the steps, trying not to stumble because there’s a stone in my chest and heat behind my eyes. I misunderstood, that's all. I thought there was a moment between us. I thought we exchanged heated glances and there was something important there, like something out of a romance novel, but I was wrong. That's all. That's all. There's nothing for me to be ashamed of. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was smart to pursue this to get it out of my system as fast as possible.

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