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Pixie’s eyes were wide as they turned toward him. “I… I just acted instinctively,” she said. “And…” She blinked twice. “I’m okay.” She looked up at him and smiled, like sunshine. “I really am.”
“Damn, Pixie, you had me scared.” Doug’s gut might take a while to settle down. “Do you even know how to shoot?”
“I do,” she said, showing an even toothier grin. “My dad, after the incident with Skeeter, made me go to the range with him and practice until I no longer feared guns,anduntil I could decimate the center of a target. As you can see, it paid off. I’m very steady holding a weapon, even one-handed.”
For the first time in his life, Doug felt like taking a woman into his arms. It hit him hard, the sudden urge, and despite the turmoil in his brain, he almost made the move. But before he could follow through, Pixie backed up, as if sensing his confusion.
“Really, Doug. I’m okay. I promise.”
Doug ran a hand back through his hair, trying to decide if she was speaking the truth or simply putting on a good face, but he couldn’t see one bit of fear in her demeanor. He chuckled, relieved, then stepped forward, daring this time to take her elbow. It was the third instance of him touching her tonight, but this time there was no jolt of aversion.
“Should we eat then?” he asked. “We have to stay until we’re questioned, so we might as well fill our bellies. If you feel up to it.” Her answer would tell him whether she was as unaffected as she seemed.
“Have I mentioned that I’m starving?” she looked up at him and winked.
So yeah. She was good. Amazing.
“Well, whatever you decided on,” the waitress who they now knew was Mrs. Smith approached with a huge smile, “it’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to—”
“But I want to,” she cut in decisively. “And so will the owner.”
Sure enough, within ten minutes they had food on their table. The chef/proprietor of the establishment had come over to tell Doug and Pixie they had free food for life, and the officers were making their way slowly around the room.
“This is so good,” Pixie said, moaning around her forkful of Lobster Mac & Cheese. “Thanks for suggesting this place.”
Doug shook his head. Her appetite was unaffected, and he didn’t understand. How was it she was taking this all in stride?
“Why aren’t you…?” He didn’t even know how to ask it.
“Falling apart?” she quipped. “I’m not sure. Maybe it will hit me, later, but for now, I’m okay.” She grew serious. “At that moment, when the two of you were on the floor, all I could see was that guy trying to hurt you. And all the hours of target practice must have kicked in. I simply picked up the gun and aimed it.”
“Well, you gave me the opportunity to gain the upper hand by stepping in. And as much as I want to give you hell over not staying down and out of the way like I suggested, I guess I’ll thank you, instead. If you hadn’t intervened, some of the blood on this shirt might have been mine.” Doug’s jaw was tight, trying not to fixate on the stains, because who knew what was in that guy’s red corpuscles?
Pixie grimaced. “Yeah. About that. It’s pretty ugly. Should you ask if they have any chef’s whites in the back that they can loan you?”
Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Yes,” Doug answered without hesitation.
When the waitress returned, Pixie made the request. Mrs. Smith, without a moment’s hesitation herded Doug into the back room where she handed him a shirt, and he swiftly changed in the men’s room, ditching his destroyed T in the waste-can.
“Better,” he said, returning to Pixie. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to make a pitstop at my new place. It’s only a few minutes away. I keep a spare set of clothes there and wouldn’t mind a quick shower.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Pixie assured him, digging heartily into her food. “But I thought you were still working on the place. You have water?”
“Water, but it will be cold,” he laughed. “Still, it’ll be better than the crawly feeling on my skin right now.”
Pixie laughed at him. “Okay. But I have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We can’t leave until after I get dessert.”
He laughed. “You can have anything you want.”
Doug heard himself, and suddenly wished that those words could mean more than just dessert, and wasn’t that fucked up?
He was screwed; quickly becoming attached to this woman.
