Page 22 of Forensics of a Fable

“What is it?”

“Not sure.”

“But enough to disgust you?”

“Anything unrecognizable on you makes me nervous. I’m far more protective of you than you realize.”

Bel placed her empty glass down and stared into the death-black eyes she once feared but now craved. “I’m catching on since you followed me to dinner with my father.”

“You like my eyes on you.”

“Don’t get cocky, Mr. Stone.” She turned toward the table, breaking their contact as her dad strode through the dining room, but Eamon leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke.

“I love your eyes on me, my little detective.”

Bel stood up and gathered her belongings so her father wouldn’t see her scalding blush, but Eamon caught her expression with a satisfied grin.

“That’s why I can’t leave you alone, Detective,” he said, pulling on his suit jacket. “You like to yell at me for following you, but you don’t actually want me to stop. If you truly did, I would obey your wishes, but your heart rate speaks the truth.”

“My dad is right there,” Bell hissed.

“Then hurry and tell me if you wish me to stop.”

“You’re annoying.”

“He’s almost here.”

“You know the truth.”

“Then say it so I know with certainty.”

“Eamon Stone, you drive me insane, and I will nail you to a cross if you ever so much as step out of line, but no. I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

“Mr. Emerson, it was a pleasure.” Eamon turned toward her father with triumph. “Thank you for allowing me to intrude on your dinner. I enjoyed myself and would love a repeat next time you’re in town.” He extended a hand.

“Of course.” Reese shook it firmly, and Bel marveled at how the man she always thought was so large looked so small compared to Stone. “And thank you again for dinner.”

“It was nothing.” Eamon stepped closer to Bel, placing his palm on her lower back. “Detective.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, but then straightened, removing his hand as if reconsidering a public display of longing with her father present. With one final look of adoration meant only for her, he left the restaurant, the silent monster in black slipping unseen through the crowd.

“I feel bad he paid for dinner,” Reese said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I wanted to take my girl out.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he owns the Reale Estate.” Bel hugged her dad’s waist as they made their way toward his car.

“What’s that?”

“The Reale family founded Bajka,” she explained. “They went bankrupt decades ago, and Eamon recently purchased the mansion and its surrounding property. He’s renovating the house himself and now owns half the town.”

“Oh…” Her father paused. “Well, in that case, we should invite him to dinner next time.”

Bel playfully hit her father’s arm as he rounded the car for the driver’s seat.

“What?” He feigned confusion. “He seemed more than happy to pay. I wonder why?”

She slammed the passenger door to avoid answering his question.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Reese asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

Because he was the one who gave her those scars. Because he wasn’t entirely human. Because she felt such an intenseconnection with him that she’d thrown caution to the wind and let her heart grow fond of him.

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