Page 28 of Echoes in the Storm
Late model coupe. Yellow.Probably female then.Clean and basic. No modifications, as though it’s just rolled off the factory line.Older person.
The occupant gets out as I open the front door to greet whoever has come to visit. A short woman with silvery hair pulled back into a high ponytail steps toward me, a smile lighting her face.
“You must be Duke.” She holds her arms out as she closes in for the kill.
I go stiff as a rod as she clamps both hands down on my biceps and leans in to place a chaste kiss to my cheek.
Get off … get off … get off …
“I’m Clara.” She backs up a step, giving me room to breathe again. “Cammie’s mum.”
One look in those familiar eyes and I know she speaks the truth. “Nice to meet you.”
Clara runs her eye over me while I stand there, hands jammed in pockets, not sure what she wants me to do next. Do I invite her in? It seems odd given she’s probably been here a thousand times more than I have.
“I won’t stay long.” Her blue eyes snap back to mine as her smile widens once more. “Cammie just asked that I pop over on my way into town to see if you needed anything. She said you don’t have a car at the moment.”
“I think I’m okay.” Her long flowing cardigan, leggings, and tall boots remind me so much of her daughter. “Would you like to come in?” Seems the only polite thing to do.
“That would be lovely.” Clara claps her hands together and heads for the door. “I’m dying for a hit of caffeine.”
Her ears hold small gauge plugs, a tattoo peeking out from the collar of her shirt at the back. She’s eccentric in her style, definitely not confined to the “normal” standards most women her age are.
I like it.
“Tell you what,” she calls over her shoulder as she breezes through to the kitchen. “I’ll make the drinks. You do me a favour and see what biscuits my daughter has in her pantry.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I close the front door behind us and pull in a deep breath before joining her.
Nothing to worry about.Sure, she’s the fifth new person I’ve had to deal one-on-one with in as many days, but shoot, she’s no more of a threat to me than her daughter.
I’ve got to stop panicking at everyone and everything. I need to trust.
Just trust …
Clara gives me another warm smile as I round the corner to the kitchen, the coffee canister already laid out on the counter before her. Clearly she knows the quirky places her daughter keeps things.
“Knowing Cam,” she says with the lilt of a laugh, “she’ll have some Tiny Teddies or other childlike rubbish. Have a dig on the top shelf, to your left. She might have something better up there collecting dust.”
I locate the biscuit tin on the middle shelf, and sure enough, it’s filled with Mini Bites, coated in pink icing and sprinkles. The search for something else comes up empty, so I pull out one of Cammie’s plastic princess plates and set the pink-iced biscuits out on it.
Nobody can know I did this.May as well pack up my balls and hand those over, too.
A chuckle escapes Clara as she looks between the plate and my mortified face. “Oh, stop it. It’s not as though all that pink is going to suck the testosterone right out of you now, is it?”
Can she be sure? “Good thing I’m hungry, huh?”
Her eyes crinkle at the corners before she bursts out laughing, shaking her head as she turns back to the mugs of coffee. “How do you have it?”
“White with none, thanks.”
Clara finishes the drinks in silence as I set the plate down on the counter and take a seat on one of the bar stools. She brings the steaming mugs over and sets them down beside the plate, choosing to remain on the opposite side of the counter from me rather than take the other stool. Her necklace rattles as she leans forward and props both elbows on the surface, resting her chin on one hand. “So your car’s broken, huh?”
I peer across at her over the rim of my mug. “Cammie’s filled you in then?”
“A little.” Her lips curl with mischief. “What do you do for a job, Duke?”
She didn’t tell her that much, then. “I don’t have one at the moment, just a hobby that keeps me busy.”