Usually, he dropped us all off in town, anywhere we wanted to go. Then, in a couple of hours, he’d make the rounds again to pick us all up.
I still had well over an hour before he came to pick me up, so I’d spend it in the diner eating poorly.
We really needed to get a cook for the circus. We’d had one, but he’d retired. Since then, we’d all been taking turns in the kitchen. But honestly, we all sucked at cooking. And the amount of food we had to cook for all of our staff and family meant that usually, what good food we could cook tended to be bland and tasteless because we sucked at cooking for a crowd.
I kept my head down as I crossed the road, knowing without looking that the captivating man’s eyes were locked solely on me.
I moved quickly to the door of the diner, but the man’s footsteps could be heard behind me, first on the sidewalk, then on the road.
I felt my stomach launch into orbit at the knowledge that he was following me.
Shit, shit, shit.
I reached for the door, but his voice stopped me before I could touch the handle that would allow me to escape.
“Who are you?” he asked.
I smiled. “Simi.”
His head tilted. “And how do you know my pops, Simi?”
His question sent shivers down my spine, not because of his words but because of how his voice sounded.
Drop-dead sexy.
“Um,” I hesitated. “I don’t.”
His head tilted in that sexy way as he said, “You don’t know him? Make a habit of going to random people’s funerals, do you?”
Instead of lying, I decided to go with the truth. Sometimes it was easier.
Unless you were wearing one of your sisters’ outfits. Then it was always deny, deny, deny.
“Yes,” I answered. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
His lips twitched as he nodded, acknowledging that it was a sufficient answer.
“In that case,” he bowed slightly. “Have a nice day.”
A breath of relief whooshed through me at the way he’d dismissed me.
I waited until I heard his footsteps behind me before I opened the door of the diner and escaped inside.
Only once I was inside, with the building between us, did I look back at him.
I felt my heart lurch when I saw him staring at me, his hand on the limo’s door, with his foot poised to sink inside.
We stared at each other for long moments, and then he moved, dropping inside the limo’s door and slamming it closed.
I blew out a shaky breath, then turned to find the woman behind the bar-height counter staring at me knowingly.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she asked.
I grimaced. “Breathtaking.”
“He knows it, too.”
Yes, I didn’t doubt that he did.
CHAPTER 4
I love you, but the next time you interrupt my yawn by sticking your finger in my mouth, I’m going to kick you in the face.
-Simi to Keene
SIMI
My head was in the clouds.
I was supposed to be “enjoying my dinner and night out after an oversold show.” At least, that was what my sisters suggested. Instead, I was at a bar, reading a book, wondering when it would be okay to go home and not look like a total and complete loser.
That had to be why I didn’t see him coming up to me until he was already taking the seat at the bar next to me.
“Hello there, funeral crasher,” the deeply amused voice said from beside me.
I blinked and turned, surprised to find the man from the funeral sitting next to me, a smirk on his face.
“Hello,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.
“Nice to see you again, Simi.” He gestured toward the bartender.
I opened my mouth to lie, but the truth came out instead. “Simi.”
“Simi.” He nodded. “I’m guessing short for Simierie?”
I was already shaking my head, laughter filling my eyes at his outrageous guess of a name. “Not even close.”
“Oh, I have no clue what that could be short for.” He groaned. “What about Simiencia? But that’d just be weird. Simientine?”
I was shaking my head again. “Still cold.”
“How cold?” he questioned just as the bartender arrived.
“Your usual, Coffey?” the bartender asked.
Coffey smiled, and I felt my heart start acting up at the sight.
Gee whiz, was he pretty.
And his name was Coffey?
I liked that.
Weird names were always fun…ish.
My sisters and I were prime examples of that.
Unless you were sixteen, lived with your sisters full time, and they knew exactly how much you hated your name and used it against you when you pissed them off. Or they just felt like terrorizing you that day.
“Arctic,” I replied. “I might as well tell you. You’ll never guess.”
“All right. Hit me.” He picked up the beer that the bartender sat in front of him.
I watched his throat work as he took a sip of his beer and swallowed.
“Kissimmee,” I answered.
He choked on his beer and whipped his head around. “I thought my name was different. Wow.”
I shrugged. “My sisters and I all have weird names. Mine isn’t the worst.”
His head tilted, his intense, liquid-glass blue eyes taking me in before he asked his next question. And color me surprised, but he didn’t ask what their names were. It was as if he didn’t care.
“And why are you in town, Kissimmee?” he asked.
I didn’t get mad at him for using my full name like I did with my siblings. He wasn’t doing it to make fun of me like they did.
“I’m in town because the circus is in town,” I replied. “Why else would I be in town?”
His lips quirked. “Are you going to attend the circus?”
A slow smile started to creep up the corner of my lips. “Why don’t you come and find out?”
“When does it start?” he wondered. “I probably should know. Heartsway is tiny, with a population of six thousand people. There’s not much that goes on here. Yet I don’t. My father’s death was fairly sudden despite the fact that we knew it was coming. I might or might not have checked out these last few weeks.”
I instantly felt horrible.
“I’m not going to the circus. I’m with the circus,” I admitted.
His eyes ran along my body, then moved back up to my face.
“That’s why the heavy makeup?” he questioned.
I nodded.
I hadn’t had the time today to spend on taking it off before Keene insisted we leave to go grab dinner. So my face was heavy on the eyeliner and lipstick.
Red wasn’t my favorite color by any means to wear on my lips, but the act I performed demanded it.
“That would be correct,” I confirmed. “We had a performance tonight, and I worked. But everyone likes to let off steam, and Keene has this rule that we can’t stay on the bus by ourselves, so I always get forced to go out even when I don’t want to.”
His gaze went down to the book, then back up to my eyes.
“Romance?” he asked.
“Kind of,” I admitted. “It’s more like science fantasy with a splash of romance in the background. This is book one of my favorite series ever. I’ve read it about a hundred times. Keene made me leave so fast that I didn’t get a chance to choose a new one, and the reception in this area is terrible. So…hard copy it is.”