“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” shereplied.
“I still know loss and grief,” he told her.“I’ve had human friends die. I don’t get to keep the friends I’vemade for long, as they age and I stay the same. I may be immortal,but I can still be killed. The same goes for the rest of my family.I still have a fear of death.”
Paige pondered his words. “Yes, I supposeyou do. Just no fear of wrinkles.”
The muscles in his neck stood out when hethrew his head back and laughed. She couldn’t help but admire theway the sun played over his blond hair and chiseled features. Hiseyes twinkled with amusement when he looked at her again. “I may bemissing out on something, I’ve heard men become more distinguishedwith age.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “You would bethe guy chasing women around the nursing home in a wheelchair ifyou were human,” she admitted.
“Only the nurses, that uniform,” he repliedwith a wink.
He liked uniforms, did he? The idea of itcaused a flutter in her belly. She definitely had to steer themaway from this conversation. “You grieved for the friends youlost?”
This time he was the one who stoppedwalking, and she turned to face him. “I’m not a monster, I havefeelings, no matter what you may think.”
The hand holding her hair fell back to herside. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I was onlyasking.”
“Yes. I grieved for them.”
She gave him a wan smile before startingdown the path again. “I’m sorry for your loss then.”
“Thank you.”
They walked another quarter mile before shespoke again, “What were you going to college for?”
“I majored in early education and minored inpsych.”
Paige almost tripped over her feet when shespun to look at him. “You were going to be a teacher?”
“The idea of a vampire teacher a little toomuch for you?”
Paige thought she might have to pick her jawup from the ground, but she finally recovered her composure. “Yes,it is.”
“I’ve always liked children, and not toeat,” he hastily added. The hearty belly laugh she emitted broughta smile to his face. Her clear, brilliant eyes radiated light andamusement as she gazed up at him. “One day I’d like to have afamily, maybe not as big as mine, but I wouldn’t mind having fouror five kids.”
“You are most definitely full ofsurprises.”
“And what of you, Paige? What do you want tobe when you grow up?”
She reached out to shove back a branchoverhanging the path, his hand shot out and he pushed it aside forher before she could touch it. “When I was a child I wanted to bean astronaut or a famous painter. I would have loved to have seenthe stars, up close.”
“And painted them?” he prodded.
“I would have painted them all,” she saidwith a wistful smile.
“And as you got older?”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of herjeans. “I stopped dreaming of silly things.”
He rested his hand on her arm to draw herattention to him. “Why?”
Her hands fidgeted in her pockets, shepulled them out before taking a step away from him. “Because we allhave to grow up some time.”
Before he could question her further, sheturned away from him and started down the path again. Her shoulderswere hunched; her head bowed as she walked away. She stopped at theedge of the path and took a step forward to look over the side ofthe hill. He remembered the view from earlier, but he still walkedover to look down at the lake nestled in the valley below. The sunglimmering off the water lit a pathway across its smooth surface,turning it the color of a sapphire.
“Beautiful,” she murmured.
Sadness radiated from her as she stared atthe water below. “It is,” he agreed.
