Nicole Peeler - [Jane True 01]

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that information. When he’d insisted on paying, it had felt like a date, but I
didn’t know if I should be on a date. So I settled on feeling ambivalent, and
let it go at that.
    He had a faraway look in his eyes as he helped me into my coat, and then
turned me around so he could zip me up. I felt like a child standing there, but
I don’t think he was even aware of what he was doing. He took my hand and we
walked out into the parking lot. I waved at Amy through the window, still
feeling slightly superfluous as we walked to Ryu’s car. He opened my door and
then went around and got into the driver’s seat.
    Starting the engine, he turned to me. “The obvious course of action is
to find Jakes’s car,” he said, decisively. “But tonight’s not the right time. A
night like this is too good to waste.” There was that cheeky wink again. “Let’s
go out. Do you want to go out?”
    “Yes, please,” I answered, my voice strangely small.
    “Excellent.” He grinned, adjusting my seat belt again. My heart
palpitated, right on cue.
    “So what passes for a watering hole here in Rockabill, Maine?”
    I hated to tell him. “It’s called the Pig Sty.”
    His yipping laugh echoed through the car as we peeled out from our
parking space and into the night.
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER SEVEN

    F rom the
parking lot, Ryu eyed the Sty skeptically. The Pig Sty was your average country
watering hole: big and airy, a little shabby, and with a large quantity of very
little selection. There were no rare micro-brewery pilsners, nor were there any
pinot grigios or un-oaked chardonnays. The Sty had “red wine” or “white wine,”
a few different, inevitably domestic species of beer and light beer, and the
standard selection of hard liquor. That said, the owners, Marcus and Sarah
Vernon, had always been really nice to me, going out of their way to be
inviting. And the Vernons made sure everyone behaved.
    Legend has it that Marcus had chucked Stuart, my nemesis, into the
Dumpster the first night the Sty opened. Stu had been throwing his weight
around, as usual, and had grabbed some tourist’s ass and said something filthy
in her ear when out of nowhere Marcus struck. Marcus was decidedly smaller than
Stu, but Stu hadn’t had a chance. One minute he was standing there looking
surprised, the next he had disappeared into the filthy Dumpster out back.
Marcus hadn’t even broken a sweat.
    I would have paid good money to have seen the look on Stu’s face that
night.
    The best part is that Stu, in the end, had to humble himself and ask
Marcus for forgiveness. The Pig Sty was the only bar for miles and Stu was already barred from half the places between here and Eastport. So, he’d sucked it up
and apologized, and I guess Marcus had felt that he’d made his point and
allowed Stuart to come back.
    More’s the pity , I thought, recognizing Stuart’s enormous
SUV in the parking lot. I stifled a groan. But the Sty was a big place and the
parking lot was pretty full. Hopefully Stuart would overlook my presence.
    Ryu parked close to the main entrance and, once again, took my hand as
we walked into the bar. He’s making a habit of the hand-holding , I
thought, unsure how I felt about that fact. No, check that. I knew I felt
pretty damned good about holding his hand, but I was also pretty sure that I
shouldn’t.
    Not least because he just admitted to being a vampire, I
reminded myself.
    Whatever, my libido purred. You don’t get to
judge him for having fangs when he hasn’t judged you for going bonkers. Not to
mention, vampires are hot.
    You’re not helping , the more virtuous aspect of my
personality scolded.
    The gods help those who help themselves , my libido
smirked, taking control of my hand long enough to give Ryu’s a little squeeze.
He smiled at me, pleasure suffusing his features.
    Jane True, get a grip! I threatened, my face coloring for
about the fiftieth time that evening.
    Behind the large bar were Sarah and Marcus. Both

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