Page 21 of Property of Anchor
Anchor chuckled.A deep, rough sound that did something stupid to my insides.“You always think about things like that?”
I grinned, slightly embarrassed.“I mean, yes.Color is kind of my thing.Though I never really tell anyone what I’m thinking about unless they are a scary biker, I guess.”
He smiled, slow and easy, and I swear I forgot how to breathe.
“That your way of calling me scary?”he asked.
I tilted my head.“That your way of saying you’re not?”
His laugh this time was softer.He didn’t answer right away, just looked at me.Really looked.And I let myself look back.
His eyes were the color of moss.
Not bright green.Not brown.Somewhere in between, like dark forest and cool stone.Something wild.Something alive.
“Settling in okay?”he asked, pulling me gently from my thoughts.
I nodded and wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders.“Yeah.I mean, it’s no five-star resort, but I like it.”
“Not too spooky for you?”he teased.
“Not yet,” I said.“Ask me again when the fog machines go off outside my window at three a.m.”
Anchor pushed off the post with a lazy kind of grace that only made him seem more dangerous.He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, rolled it between his fingers, then struck a match against the porch railing and lit it.
The flame briefly lit up his face.
He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him like a ghost too lazy to haunt.
“Where you headed?”I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, even as my pulse was anything but.
He flicked his eyes to me, then back to the darkness.“Haunted house.Gotta check some shit before close.”
Part of me wanted to ask if I could come with him.If he’d show me around.If he’d let me see what it looked like through his eyes.
But I didn’t.
And he didn’t ask.
Instead, he gave me one last look and said, “Sleep tight, doll.Stay close to your cabin.I’ll see you in the morning.”
And just like that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees with a trail of smoke swirling behind him.
I watched him go until I couldn’t see him anymore.
Then I sat back, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Anchor was...something else.Something carved out of steel and smoke and silent tension.He hadn’t come within six feet of me since he had shown me my cabin, but it had still felt like he’d touched every nerve in my body.
He made me feel things I didn’t want to admit.Made me think about things I had no business thinking about.
He was a mystery.
A walking warning sign wrapped in black ink and muscle.
And I wanted him.
God help me, I wanted him.
