Carinian's Seeker Page 0,3

some of his cousins decided to have a footrace and see who could make it to the bottom of the hill first. With their eyes closed. Bix ended up in the hospital with stitches from his forehead all the way down to his chin after running headfirst into a neighbor’s fencepost at full speed. Or the time he’d jumped off the roof of his mother’s house with a sheet tied around his neck to see if he could fly. It was amazing he had no scars from any of it.

A ten year stint in the military followed by several years of exploring the world led to the loss of his country bumpkin accent and the acquisition of a bit of sophistication.

In between chuckles, the way those smoldering hazel-gray eyes took her in made her belly flutter nervously, but she didn’t feel uncomfortable or afraid. She was attracted. It had been an eon since a man had caught her attention and the feeling was rather foreign. She was glad when she spotted their waiter approaching, desperate for something other than his yummy mouth to concentrate on.

The second their plates met the table her stomach responded. Loudly. Oh Lord, she was beyond embarrassed as the stupid organ gurgled and grumbled, telling anyone within earshot it was well past mealtime.

“I’m glad I asked you to come and eat dinner with me. Seems your stomach is, too.”

Whoa, was he teasing her about how much food she’d ordered? They’d been having a perfectly good time, but the bottom line was she didn’t really know him. There’d been plenty too-brainy-too-curvy comments growing up. The last thing she was in the mood for was some strange guy, no matter how friendly or gorgeous, to throw subtle darts about not being a skinny little stick figure.

Carin looked up from her plate and searched his eyes, but what she expected to see wasn’t there. No snarky, turned-up lips, no condescending flat stare. Instead, his carefree expression held a hint of mischief. And she felt it. Felt him good-naturedly poking fun at her. A warm wash of humor emanated from him. A slight brush against her mind, just like the one she’d felt in the gym, urged her to reach for the same emotions and embrace them.

Instead she pushed them aside and dug into her food, wondering if Bix felt her apprehension towards him build and then melt away. She’d known since she was a child that she was an empath but never actually explored her abilities. However, she knew enough to realize most people projected their emotions. But this was different. Bix’s emotions streamed out of him in a controlled manner, not rushing at her like most people’s. Maybe she should explore this a bit.

“I’m glad you’re eating,” Bix mumbled around a bite of spicy smoked meat. “Most women don’t actually eat anything when they’re out at a restaurant. They just kind of push the food around on their plates.”

“Well, I’ve never been the frilly-froo-froo, too-cute-to-eat type,” she said, taking a healthy bite of juicy chicken breast. “Besides, if I want to stay healthy I have to give my body plenty of good food, not starve myself to death.”

He gave her a slow, intense once-over, conveying exactly what he thought about her body. From the top of her head down to the tasteful peep of cleavage showing through the scoop neck of her T-shirt. He lingered there for a moment. “I agree. And you look like you take care of your body very well. Very well, indeed.”

The man eyed her like she was a tasty morsel on his plate. Unused to such attention, all she could do was look down at her slowly disappearing chicken and rice and mumble a shaky, “Thank you.” His expression was too hot to handle and left her wishing she’d worn more clothes. Or less.

Blushing like a schoolgirl, she was thankful he couldn’t hear her heart speed up every time he leaned forward and gave his full attention as if her words were the most important in the world.

Then he seemed to back off a bit, relaxing against the backrest of their booth with a lazy smile. Thank goodness. One more heart-stopping grin or wickedly hungry look and she’d go up in smoke. Lord, this was ridiculous. But it sure felt nice. Too bad she was leaving in the morning.

“What time is it?” she asked, glancing down at her bare wrist. She’d forgotten her watch was already packed in her overnight bag at the