Free thenoondaydemon by Anastasia Rabiyah Page B

morning, but now, with him here, it looked garish and unworthy. She set out two green glasses, old ones from the late seventies, probably from a catalog; her mother always liked catalogs. They showed the rays of sunlight peeking through the kitchen window as rings of green fire across the gold counter. Everything appeared old, dated, and not good enough. The comforts of this home, the place she’d grown up in until her parents mailed her off to Catholic boarding school, it all had…changed? Impossible. She handed him a full glass.
    “That’s a nice skirt,” he said, his gaze fixed on her lower body as he sipped his lemonade. “You’d look good in something shorter, something that shows off your legs.” His tongue darted across his lips, swiping away drops of sour liquid.
    Abra sat down at the table, her fingers rubbing over the hand-embroidered flowers on the tablecloth. “Val. Is that short for something?”
    He grinned at her, then sat as well, scooting his chair closer. Its feet grated on the floor. “It could be.” The stranger’s eyes lit in a mischievous way. He set his glass down, wiped the moisture from it over his forehead and leaned toward her.
    Abra swallowed. She set down her glass as well. “Are you from around Enid?”
    “No. This is my first time here.” He reached across the distance, his fingers meeting her cheek for an interminable instant, rough fingers that knew hard work but felt tender and inviting stroking her skin. “You’re all alone, aren’t you?”
    “I’ve been alone a long time.” She felt he could see past her usual defenses. That vulnerability made her anxious, flustered.
    His eyes changed color, flashing to a brilliant green. When his hand fell away from her face, a glint of red showed in his pupils. “Do you like being alone?”
    “Yes,” she replied too fast, used to defending her place in life. Abra thought back, just to be sure, questioning the reply for the first time. Her parents had sent her away to make something better of herself than what they thought she’d become here in this farmhouse. She’d gone to the best schools, two art academies and made a decent living selling her oil paintings. Being alone was a part of her, and she’d accepted it. In fact, she thrived on the solitude. Alone she could paint at any hour, eat what she wanted, when she wanted and do things her way. There’d been men in her life, but never for very long and never for more than anything but fun. “Does that bother you?”
    He chuckled as he sat back in the chair. Val lifted his glass, drinking back almost all of the lemonade. His eyes flickered; the color changed, and he set his glass on the edge of the table. “I think it would be lonely.”
    “Not if you like yourself.” She forced a smile, sipped at her drink, and waited.
    “I like myself just fine, but I prefer the company of pets.”
    “Pets?” She shook her head. “Pets are too much work. If you want something furry to touch, get a stuffed animal.”
    Val drank back the last of his lemonade, smirked at her, and stood up. He glanced at the antique wall clock. “Thanks for the drink, Abra . I better be gettin ’ on up the way.” The sudden accent sounded forced, the drawl just a little wrong .
    “Sure.” She held out her hand for him to clasp. He felt too hot, almost feverish. “You stop by again if you need something to drink.”
    “I’d rather stop by for the company, if you don’t mind.” He stepped closer, his gaze holding her attention.
    Abra’s body ached. She hoped he’d move in and do something brash, kiss her, crush her in the stifling heat with an embrace, hell even back her against the antique table to see just how much pounding it could take. “Stop by any time,” she whispered.
    “Maybe tomorrow, same time.”
    “That’s good for me.”
    “Maybe then, you’ll tell me more about yourself.”
    “If you’re lucky.” She wanted to grab his hand when he pulled it away. As he turned and opened