Page 11 of The Minotaur's Valentine

I suddenly feel like Ricky is interrogating me, which would normally put me off. Right now, all I can do is nod and stare into his bottomless black eyes.

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been interested in anyone. “Yep, all the time.”

“Have you ever been to Jax Alley?”

“Uh. No.” Oh, yes, Lib. Real brilliant repartee. “I pretty much stick to the main streets between my apartment and work. Everything is pretty convenient.”

“True.” Ricky smiles. “Jax Alley is on the outskirts of town. Kind of a hole-in-the-wall place but they always have good music and pool. Do you play pool?”

“I know the basics.” Is he asking me out?

“Well... you’re new here. And I happen to have a night off coming up. I’d love to show you around. I know the owners so, my treat, okay?”

“Okay.”

Wait. What did I just do? I said yes. But, that isn’t a bad thing. “I mean, it depends on my schedule. What night were you thinking of?”

“Call me crazy, but I like to really spoil a pretty lady and have a... lavish meal on Valentine’s. Are you up for it?”

The way Ricky says “lavish meal” makes my toes curl. He licks his lips and holds my gaze.

Holy shit, this guy is sex on a stick and I want a bite. “Sounds good to me.”

Chapter Twelve: Libby

After Ricky leaves, my head seems to clear. The lust cobwebs vanish, and I realize I’ve just committed myself to a date in a dive bar on Valentine’s Day with a guy who clearly wants me for only one thing.

Or maybe that’s just how devastatingly sexy guys who look like they stepped out of my teenage fantasies come off—all charm and feral passion.

Speaking of feral—I had to get better if I wanted to catch those kittens before the blizzard.

“Libby, go straight home. Do you have any soup?”

Doc’s voice hits my ears as they are being muffled up in my hoodie and scarf. “I think so.”

The graying man hobbles out of his exam room, a black feather gracing one ear. “I’m going to stop by the market myself tonight. The Night Market, that is.” He hesitates. “Have you... met many of the stall owners yet?”

“A couple. I mainly hit the fudge stand and head for the woods.”

“Hm. I’m going to ask some of the folks in the row closest to the woods to lend a hand with your kitten chase. I have an old friend who sells some...crafts.”

I look at Doc with my streaming, puffy eyes. He seems uneasy, like he wants to tell me something but won’t spit it out, and that’s not like him. He’s a very straightforward, affable guy which is why I sometimes have a little fantasy about him adopting me, putting me through vet school, and letting me take care of him and the animals of Pine Ridge when he retires.

“Libby. I... Well. It’s nothing. It’s just... some of the people in this town—are different.”

Oh. Duh. Ricky probably told Doc that he asked me out. In this town, it seems like everyone chats with their neighbors. That’s not normal, not where I’m from. My mother used to tell me not to look most of the neighbors in the eye, but that made sense. Crackheads lived in every other apartment.

“Is this about Ricky?” I ask.

“Ricky? Who just left? What about him?” Peterson sits on the edge of the desk and lowers his head, looking up at me over the rims of his glasses. For a second, he reminds me of an old billy goat, head down and ready to charge.

“He seems nice. Sixpence is a pretty cool bird, huh?” I scoot back toward the door.

“Ricky’s nice. Rather a lady’s man. And he travels. Frequently.”

“Heartbreaker, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Ricky isn’t the type I worry about, not as long as his date knows what she’s getting into. That brings me back to the Night Market. Libby, dear—May I call you dear?”

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