“Have you been cleansed of ghosts?” he shouted at me, loud enough that he had me blinking.
Noble nodded frantically, and the man backed off a few steps. “We’re all ghost-free here,” he said cheerfully.
“Did anyone call the cops for this guy?” I asked. He looked broken, and part of me wondered if he wasn’t horrifically sane. Maybe he’d had a bad encounter with someone like me.
“That’s Mr. English,” Noble said, waving both of his hands at the man. He noticed me watching him and tucked the small one into his pocket, cheeks going pink. “Mr. English only needs to calm down, then he can come in and eat. Mr. English? Your table is ready. I’ve been trying to tell you,” Noble said loud enough to carry over the man’s diatribe. A few people nearby had their phones out recording poor Mr. English, and Noble glared in their direction.
The yeller snapped his mouth shut. He squinted at Noble, who scurried over to open the front door of the Co-Op. Noble forced a wide smile, then let it go as Mr. English shuffled inside. Noble’s breath puffed, creating a foggy cloud, as a cold breeze blew along the street. He watched me while I approached, the door still wide open.
“And I thought I dealt with crazies.”
Noble frowned. “A lot of people have problems.” He ducked his head, that plump bottom lip of his jutting out. “You’re early. It’s only ten after seven.”
“I was excited to get here.” I stared at Noble. The symmetry of his face, his beautiful eyes, and that entrancing crisp ozone scent that billowed from him, all twisted together and wove a spell around me. I could feel Abe being sluggish in my head, but he perked up with interest as I fixated on Noble’s mouth.
Pink pearl earrings glinted in his ears. I was certain he hadn’t worn the jewelry either time I’d met him previously. I couldn’t stop myself from noting all the little changes that had taken place since this afternoon—his hair stylishly messy with product, the soft green sweater that appeared to be made of a nice material peeking out from the collar of his army jacket. I brushed the backs of my fingers over a strand of his brown hair that had fallen down onto his forehead and pushed it back into place. He froze when I danced my fingertip over the earring in his right ear.
“These are nice. You look good.”
“Uh… thanks,” he said, so softly I barely heard him.
I rested my hand on his where he held open the door. “I don’t normally do anything so date-like.”
He glanced up and our gazes locked. My stomach heated, and for a second I was certain I was falling, but the sensation zipped away with another strong breeze that ruffled his hair. “Oh, you were looking to hook up?” His lips twisted down, and I hated that I’d caused that to happen.
“I was hoping to talk you into it, but now I feel guilty as hell. I do still need to ask you questions about the attack that happened, so if nothing else, we’ll always have Mr. Enoch,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He laughed and shook his head. Someone behind me cleared their throat, but I could not give less of a fuck.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to spend time with me. I get it.” He closed his eyes for a quick second before he snapped them open. It was clear he was trying to be tough, but he and dandelion fluff were cut from the same cloth.
Not sure what the hell I was doing, I squeezed his hand. Anything beyond a quick fuck might not be safe for him. I wasn’t even mad that he didn’t want me in his apartment because I was dangerous—he just didn’t know exactly how much. “Let’s go inside.”
“But—”
“There’s a first time for everything. Maybe I am on a date right now. Besides, I can’t disappoint a face like this.” I tapped his chin.
He snorted and glanced at his feet, then smiled. “Okay.”
Once inside, I took a second to memorize my surroundings. There were no shadowy corners for anyone to hide in. The lights overhead blazed bright and cheerful. It wasn’t surprising that everything in the Co-Op was minimalist. Cloth napkins, which had me wincing, were in a basket in the middle of each seating area. The tables all seemed to be reclaimed because they were different styles in varying states of newness and repair. The chairs were the same, in all their mismatched glory. Art—some of it shockingly good—lined the walls, and a sign nearby proclaimed each painting was done by a local artist. Thankfully the kitchen I was able to look right back into sparkled with clean stainless steel. The high-gloss metal serving counter that acted as a partition between the guests and the workers gleamed without a speck of dirt or dust on it.
“What’s good?” I asked, checking out the menu board along the far right wall.
“Vegan chicken parm.”
“What’s in it if it’s vegan?”
He shrugged and laughed, grinning up at me in a way that made my breath catch. “Tofu, most likely, but I can’t tell. It’s really good.”
We went through the line, and I let him order for us but elbowed him aside so I could pay, in spite of the fact I’d said this wasn’t a date. Noble shot me a look from the corner of his eye and his lips quirked up. Sharing nervous smiles—I was man enough to admit that much—we milled around near the counter to wait for our order to come up. I wasn’t happy when we each had a tray and he led us to the only open table—near the still-muttering Mr. English. I wasn’t certain, but sometimes I thought my presence agitated people who were already rocky with their grasp on sanity. Sure enough, seconds after I sat down on my side of the small round wooden table, Mr. English began to talk to himself. I caught a whiff of Noble, that cleanliness that came with thunderstorms, and tried to block out the crazy man.
“Wait,” I said and shot to my feet. He glanced up. I went around to his side and lifted his jacket from his shoulders, tugging until I got it off him, before I draped it over the back of his chair. He laughed and let me do it.
“Thought this wasn’t a date?” he asked, hunching forward.
“It isn’t.”
A mesmerizing pink blush spread across his cheeks and nose, and I felt pretty good about myself as I took off my black leather coat to toss it over the back of my chair with a lot less care. I shoved the sleeves on my blue-and-white baseball shirt up to my elbows and flopped onto my seat again.
