Page 52 of Not Your Ordinary Shifter

Fuck.“Sorry, uh—” What had he intended to order? “The chicken parmesan, please.” It was the first thing that popped into his head.

She wrinkled her nose and leaned down, wafting a sweet floral scent in his direction. “I wouldn’t, to be honest it’s not very good,” she warned him in a stage whisper.

He leaned in, so close that they were almost touching, and sniffed her. She gave him a startled look and straightened fast. It was only when he saw her expression that he realized what he’d done and scrambled for an excuse. “Oh, your perfume. Sorry, it smelled nice, and I was trying to figure out what it was.”

She didn’t say anything, but there was a twist to her mouth and a slight narrowing of the eyes. “I’m not wearing perfume. So, you wanted the chicken parm?”

He hated chicken parm. It was his least favorite meal, and he had no idea why he’d ordered it. What had he decided on before his mind had collapsed? “Uh—actually, why don’t I go with the bacon cheeseburger.”

“Fries?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Okay, it’ll be right up.” The humor in her voice had gone, to be replaced with a professional, but distant, friendliness. She turned on her heel and moved away from the table briskly.

He couldn’t blame her.

After making a complete ass of himself, he was tempted to toss some money on the table and creep out while she was gone. That it would probably make him look even more ridiculous was the only thing that kept him in his seat.

Once she was gone, and he could focus again, he tried to figure out what was going on. His cock was rock hard, pressing painfully against the front of his jeans. Every inch of his body seemed enflamed beyond normal attraction. Even his skin felt like it was stretched tight and raw.

At least without her there he could picture her with a little more objectivity. Again, the memory didn’t match what he saw when she was right there. There were faint circles under her eyes. The messy ponytail had obviously been gathered hastily without a brush. And the drab uniform wouldn’t have been flattering on anyone.

She looked like a normal woman at work. Pretty but not in an attention-grabbing way. She was just going about her job as usual, and that shouldn’t be causing heart palpitations. And yet…

When the food came, she didn’t stay to chat, which didn’t surprise him at all. He munched the burger, while barely tasting it. His mind was too wrapped up in the inexplicable situation hefound himself in… but every time she swung by to check on him, or refill his coffee cup, he found himself in the same situation.

The stammering, something he hadn’t done since he was a kid, was awkward enough. But blurting out weird comments or questions every time he opened his mouth, and, in general, acting like a complete idiot while she seemed to get more and more uncomfortable, was worse.

On her last visit to the table, he couldn’t help himself. “C-can I take you out?”

She blinked and the flow of coffee shifted to spill over the side of the cup. “What?”

“On a date, I mean. Can I t-take you on a date. You’re just so pretty and I—” Without planning to, he grabbed her wrist, holding her there as the coffee continued to pour.

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him until he let go of her. Her tone, when she replied, was forced. “Sir, this is myjob. I don’t even know you and I’m trying to work.” She swiped at the spilled coffee with a rag from her pocket and rushed away like her shoes were on fire.

He ate the rest of his fries quickly and didn’t wait for her to come back with his check. The pile of money on the table was double what he owed. He couldn’t risk seeing her again, so he skuttled out to the parking lot like a coyote being run off a farm.

Once he was safely inside his car, he let loose with a long stream of cursing and didn’t stop until he realized he was repeating himself. “What in the actual fuck wasthat?” he demanded.

His fist thumped against the steering wheel. “She probably thinks I’m a serial killer. For fuck’s sake.” His voice was high, incredulous. Jacob couldn’t remember ever making such a terrible impression on a woman.

He had to be sick. It was the only explanation. The flush in his face, the sweat beading his forehead, the way his skin felttight and hot… it was probably all symptoms of something he’d picked up in the airport.

For a moment he considered getting a hotel and calling to let his mother know he was too sick to make it to the house. It would let him put things off a little longer, but he was pretty sure he’d just end up with the whole family showing up to see if he was okay. His mother would lead the charge, but she wouldn’t come alone.

He scratched an itch on the back of his neck and felt something tangled in his hair. He pulled and winced at the sudden burning sensation. He worked it out of his hair and to his surprise it was a white feather.

Things were always catching in his hair, so he didn’t give it much thought. Served him right for letting it get so long anyway. He examined the feather for a second, and then rolled down the window and let the wind tear it away.

Once the window was back up, he blasted the AC on high, and let his head fall back against the seat as he tried to calm down. But a few minutes later… he was fine. His heart slowed to normal, and the sweat dried up, leaving him feeling good as new.

All the symptoms gone, just like that.

He took a minute to make sure, checking and rechecking, but no, everything was fine. Though, after his creepy display, the waitress might just call the cops on him if he kept sitting in the parking lot.

Which meant… it was time to go home.

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