Page 37 of Blood and Buttercups

I’m just finishing up my makeup when the doorbell rings.

I press my lips together, spreading the lightly tinted lip balm. Then I take a deep breath to prepare myself and hurry down the stairs, to the entry, coming to a dead stop when I spot the man through the mottled glass in the door.

It’s not some dowdy, clipboard-carrying conservator standing on my welcome mat—it’sNoah.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt out when I open the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure he’s alone. The last thing I need is for my conservator to show up while he’s here. “I kind of have an appointment…”

He’s wearing that black leather jacket again, looking good enough to eat.

The thought immediately flusters me. The phrase takes on a different meaning when you’re pre-vampiric. Obviously, I’m notactuallygoing to bite him.

My eyes stray past his yummy jaw to his equally yummy neck. Okay, if he offered, I might take a little nibble…but not hard enough to draw blood.

“That’s a warm welcome,” he deadpans.

I would laugh if I weren’t so freaked out by my chaotic thoughts.

“Seriously, you have to go,” I tell him, pressing my hands on his shoulders and turning him back toward his SUV. “This is the worst time ever.”

He glances over his shoulder as he allows me to escort him down the porch stairs. “You’re acting a little stranger than normal today.”

“I have this guy coming?—”

“Guy?” he says, cutting me off, sounding way too amused. “You have a date at ten in the morning?”

My face and neck go hot. “No, it’s not like that. He’s probably a sniveling little weasel.”

“Oh yeah? What’s this sniveling little weasel coming for?”

Noah digs in his heels, refusing to let me propel him any farther. He turns to face me, and though he’s not smiling, his eyes are bright.

I huff out a frustrated breath and cross my arms. “It’s like a medical counseling thing, okay?”

“I see. And you’d like me out of the way?”

Avoiding his eyes, I nod.

“That’s fine, but first, I have to talk to you.”

“Can we make it quick?” I nearly jump out of my skin when a car slows in front of my driveway. When it speeds up and moves on, I let out a relieved breath.

When I look back, I find Noah studying me, his expression strangely sympathetic. But he’s still not leaving.

“Listen, just…” I pull out my phone. “Give me a minute.”

Quickly, I reply to Montgomery’s text.

Piper: Running late. Please give me an extra thirty minutes.

Pocketing the phone, I look up. “Okay, what?”

“One second.” He holds up a finger. “I got a text.”

I watch the street beyond the drive, full of nervous energy. The sun is bright, and I didn’t put sunscreen on this morning. “Why don’t you come inside real quick?”

Still looking at his phone, he follows me into the house. While he’s distracted, Montgomery replies.

Montgomery: We’ll reschedule. I’ll email you later.

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