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Because they are majestic. Animals that solely survive on instinct and have no need for greed. They kill to sustain themselves, not for gluttony or power.
That is something they wield naturally without anything more than existing.
“Hunter versus prey. Life and death.” In my mind, I see trees and vines in different shades of green and contrast with a single predator highlighted in each piece. Both human and animal. “Now, which shade fits best for the base?”
There are two that I love and use, but a new one on the market has just a hint of metallic that my eyes are drawn to. It’d be perfect for the night sky, and will stand out, become reflective with the lighting being used.
“A lot of customers are choosing that tone this week,” comes from a male voice just behind me and I shriek, dropping the bottles in my hand. They don’t break, but instead roll beneath the gondola likely never to be found again unless someone gets on their knees, and with the man wearing a store uniform standing close, that person won’t be me. “My apologies.”
“You scared three years off my life.” At my grumble, he holds his hands up but makes no move to step back. He’s too close, and I don’t like it. He also doesn’t say anything after, and I’m confused by his just standing there. Just like the coffee house a few days ago. How uncomfortable he made me feel then too. “Can I help you?”
“You can...”
Stepping back, I bump into the shelf and then wave my hand in a hurry up action. “How?”
“You’re very pretty.” Not what I’m expecting, and it also heightens my unease. I’m not dressed to impress right now in an old paint-stained sweatshirt and denim cutoff shorts with a messy bun to top it off. Nor do I feel up to making polite conversation, but that choice is taken from me as he leans against another shelf.
The man is easily in his mid-twenties and taller than me with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a slim build with the slightest pouch in his midsection. Ordinary. Nothing that would draw me in physically, and while I can overlook that and let him down in a gentle manner, the lecherous way he’s watching me spikes my anxiety.
“Thank you,” I say to be polite and move the cart beside me closer to create separation. We’re alone in this row, no one near from the sound of it, which is strange. When I walked in, there were plenty of clients strolling the aisles. “And I’m fine. No help needed as I know what I’m here to buy.”
“Are you sure? Spending my shift with you wouldn’t be a chore at all.” His name tag reads Tim, and the title of shift manager is printed beneath it. “You know, I’ve seen you here before, always in the paint section. Always unaware of the stares you receive just like around town.”
“Okay.” That’s not creepy at all.
“I could keep others away if you’d like?” Tim looks at the items in my cart with interest. “A struggling artist?”
“No.” My one-word response doesn’t register at all. Nor my frown or the way I grip the metal kitty multi tool meant to protect if need be that I carry on my keychain; the ears are pointy and sharp enough to penetrate flesh.
“How about I cut you a deal, sweetheart. I’ll let you use...” Tim lifts a hand toward my face and I cringe back “...my employee discount and you cook—”
“You have two seconds to walk away,” a voice booms to my left, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Without turning my head, I know it’s Theodore and I’ve never been more grateful to see another human being. My unrest evaporates, and when his hand touches the crook of my elbow, pulling me in closer, I nearly melt into him. I’m not questioning how he affects me when the creepy employee across from me has ruined what was supposed to be a fun trip.
“I’m just doing my job, sir—”
“Last warning.” This time it leaves his chest on a growl, his muscles coiling beside me. His anger is palpable. His strength is visible in the cords of muscle that flex. “Walk away before you’re unable to.” The threat is there. It lingers heavily between the three of us, and Tim is smart enough to heed the warning, tucking tail and rushing away as if someone called him for help. This is the second time; it would’ve been an amusing sight had he not ruined my shopping. “Are you okay?”
Turning my head and meeting Mr. Astor’s stare, I find his expression as soft as the tone he used with me. No traces of his ire left. “I don’t know what you’re doing here or how you found me, but thank you. That was beyond uncomfortable for me.”
Are you following me? And more importantly, why don’t I care if you are?
If anything, I feel a little safer thinking I have my own knight in shining armor.
“I’m glad I heard your voice when I did. I’d been heading toward the specialty vinyl area.”
A snort escapes me. I’m also not buying it. “You own a Cricut machine?”
“No.” He grins at me, those amber eyes crinkling a bit at the corner, and it only serves to make him more handsome. It’s then that I take in his change of clothing, and my body gives a small shiver he mistakes for unease over what’s happened. Jesus, this man is dangerous, and I let my eyes subtly give him a once over. And if I thought Theodore Astor in an all-black suit was handsome, this simple pair of lightly faded black jeans and plain grey T-shirt just might kill me. He’s bulging muscles and raw masculinity with a scent that invades my pores and dominates each and every one of my senses. “...but Tero’s wife does, and it’s her birthday tomorrow.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I mumble, still appreciating his perfect male form. However, the moment his answer clicks, I’m left blushing in embarrassment. For assuming.
“I can be, depending on the person or moment.” The last word hasn’t passed through his lips when his brows furrow and lips thin into a line. Even that is sexy. “Did he touch you?”
“What?” I’m flustered, and this seems to aggravate him for some reason.
“Did Tim touch you?” he asks again, and this time, it’s on a low hiss.
“No.” Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. My face pinches tight, though, and for a second the memory of his hand coming toward my face flashes through my mind. “You stopped him before he could.”
