aving some trouble sleeping, and I was wondering if you could recommend an over the counter sleep medication?”
He took a moment to reply. I shifted on my feet awkwardly as he stared at me. Were over the counter sleep medications suspicious somehow? Were they like those allergy medicines that had to be regulated because drug dealers used them to make methamphetamine?
“Vacationing here, are you?” he asked slowly, his gaze moving over my face.
“No—“
“But you don’t live here? I’ve never seen you around.”
“Not here actually, not in Tahoe Shores. I’ve recently moved here from San Francisco, after getting married. We live in a place down the shore a bit… ”
I realized I was rambling, giving away more information than was warranted because I had some stupid idea that asking about over the counter sleep aides verged on criminal behavior.
“Where exactly do you live?”
I opened my mouth, about to automatically supply an answer, when I suddenly caught myself. Irritation swept through me. I didn’t owe him any explanations. Even if the pharmacist was suspicious of me for some unknown reason, he should just get to the point. I tapped my hand once on the counter, straightened, and met his startled stare squarely.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
I was a little confused at his manner, but also increasingly curious. Maybe this was typical behavior in a small town, to feel out strangers a little, chitchat before getting down to business?
“No, of course not,” the man said gruffly, looking a little abashed now that I’d called him out. He gave me the name of a few medicines and pointed out where they could be found on the shelf. I felt his stare on my back as I walked away.
I left the store with the sleep aid. But I felt like I’d failed in my first small-town interaction.
By the time I returned to Les Jumeaux, late afternoon shadows hung thick on the narrow entry drive. When I reached the clearing at the back of the house, my gaze immediately landed on the stationary figure of a tall man on the front porch. He leapt into action, stalking down the steps and coming toward me.
I braked the car, staring all the while at Evan’s tense, drawn face. His clothing seemed matched to his mood—black athletic pants, black running shoes, and a dark gray T-shirt that highlighted his muscular torso and powerful arms. If he’d been in the workout facility when I’d left, he hadn’t paused to shower yet. There was a scruff of whiskers on his upper lip and jaw. He watched me steadily from beneath a lowered brow. He looked more than a little intimidating as he approached.
I lowered the window when he reached the back of the car, listening to the sound of gravel crunching beneath his shoes and the drum of my heartbeat.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, looking at me from what still seemed like a huge height despite his bent-over position. Both of his hands gripped the car door, like he thought I was going to try and get away from him.
“I ran into town to get a sleep medication. I tried to find you, but when I couldn’t, I just left the note—”
“Damn it, Anna, do you have any idea how much I’ve been worrying?” he interrupted, gray eyes flashing angrily.
Despite feeling bad about upsetting him, annoyance bubbled up in me.
“I’m a grown woman, Evan. I’ve been able to drive a car for years now. It was a quick trip into town, not a journey up Mt. Everest.”
“I had no idea you could be so impulsive.”
“I had no idea you could be so controlling.”
His mouth flattened. If looks could kill. I cringed internally, even as I held his furious stare without flinching. So here was the temper I’d hypothesized about so many times while studying his features like an artist absorbs a masterpiece.
“You’re not used to driving these roads yet. Are you going to sit there and try to convince me it was a cakewalk for you?”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything. It wasn’t easy, but I made it there and back safely.”
“With no incident,” he stated flatly rather than asked, but his gaze was sharp. Searching.
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
He straightened and took a step back. He flexed his hands at his sides, as though working the tension out of them.
“All you had to do was ask me. I would have gotten anything you needed immediately. You haven’t said a word about having trouble sleeping.” His tone had gone neutral. I’d witnessed the heat of his temper and now observed his tight control over it as well.