Page 24 of Unsure in Love

Smiling, she picked up her glass of water and drank. Her shoulders relaxed, and I blew out a relieved breath. It was smooth sailing after that. Our conversation was surprisingly easy. Then again, why was I surprised? I’d already established that if I had a type, she’d be it. Screw it. She was my type. We chatted about her tattoo parlor a little.

“It suits you,” I said. “Your line of work.”

“Why? Because I look like Wednesday Addams?” she asked dryly.

I tilted my head. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry if I sound bitter. It’s just that my sisters tease me about looking and sounding like her all time. My younger sister told me she imagined if the character was real, she’d be a tattoo artist… like me.”

My lips twitched as I tried to hold back my laughter. Stroking my chin, I studied her. Cass did indeed have a deadpan wit and dry humor sometimes. Her personality did sort of remind me of the fictional character. “Huh. Well, now that you mention it…”

“Oh, my God. Seriously?” She glared daggers at me, and the laughter I tried to contain burst free. I laughed a lot with her. It was like I became a different person in her company.

“Hey, I always thought Wednesday was a total babe when I was a kid. That explains my attraction to you,” I mused, all the while fighting to keep a straight face.

“So you weren’t a normal child, then?”

I shrugged. “Probably not since I had a crush on Wednesday’s mom, too.”

Cass snickered, and I grinned like an idiot.

“In all seriousness, what I meant is that you strike me as an artist. I got that vibe from you when we met.”

“How on earth did you get that vibe?” she asked.

“The way you seem to observe everything with a keen eye and then zone out as if you're seeing something no one else is.”

Her dubious expression melted, and her lips parted. “How…?”

I grinned. “I was raised by an artist. I hope you’re not as crazy as she is, though.” Aunt Lucia was comically eccentric. She was a nut job really, but I loved her.

She chuckled. “Your mother is an artist?”

“My aunt.” I had no idea who my mother was or where she was. I brushed off my maternal woes and explained. “She paints and sculpts, and she’s as eccentric as they come. She drives me crazy, but I wouldn’t want her to change for anything.”

Cass stared at me, and I was sure she’d question me about being raised by my aunt. However, she only smiled and nodded. “Confession: I’m not only a tattoo artist. I paint too, but that’s a secret, so keep it to yourself.”

I grinned. “I like that you trust me with your secrets.”

“Secrets?” Her eyes widened to saucers. The terror that flashed in them made me frown.

“You know, the ones you told me never to tell anyone four months ago? That you giggle and you’re ticklish.”

“Oh. Right. You remember that,” she mused.

I remembered every detail about our night together. “I wonder what other secrets I can discover before you head back to Oakland.”

Again, there was alarm in her eyes when they met mine. What was up with her? Not that I knew her all that well, but she was jumpier this time around. Eyes narrowing, I searched her face but decided not to pry. Maybe she was just out of sorts about her long-lost father, a topic she hadn’t mentioned since yesterday. And I wasn’t going to ask her about it.

* * *

“Thank you for tonight, Damian. I had a great time.”

Cass and I stood outside the restaurant, waiting for the valet to bring my car around.

“You’re welcome.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

She turned to me with a half smile then looked away. We were caught up in that awkward end-of-the-date moment where neither of us was sure what to do or say.

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