Free Skin Walkers: Angel Lost by Susan Bliler Page A

him.
    The scar on one of her legs snagged his attention, and he remembered the steel trap that had caused the damage.  He wondered if Eden was even aware of how she’d gotten the scar.  
    “Hello.”  Her soft word pulled his attention to her face, and his cheeks actually flamed with the realization that he’d been staring at her like the fifteen year old he’d been trying not to act like.
    “Sorry.” He fisted a hand and held it to his lips while he cleared his throat.  He began again.  “Good evening. Hope you’re hungry.”
    A simple nod was the only response he received.
    “Good.  Please...” He stepped back, waving his arm toward the room.  He watched her give the space a curious glance, but she hurried to their table, and he rushed to pull out her seat.
    “Thank you,” she murmured, grabbing her napkin and folding it onto her lap.
    He’d been hoping they’d talk first, but he could scent his Angel’s distress.  He hated it.  Lifting a hand, Cindy disappeared into the kitchen, on her return carrying two dome-covered plates to the table where she set one in front of Eden and the other in front of Monroe before pulling off the lids and taking them back into the kitchen.
    Some of the tension left Eden’s shoulders, and she actually smiled with a relieved, “Pizza!”
    “It’s one of you favorite foods,” he offered.
    Cindy returned with two salads doused with ranch and dotted with tomatoes and black olives.  She left again, returning with a bottle of wine, and filled each of their glasses before retreating to stand behind the bar where she picked up a glass and began polishing it with a white bar towel.    
    Eden took up her fork and poked at her salad.  “So,” she began timidly, without looking up.  “You knew me?  Before I mean.  You knew me before the accident?”
    When she peeked up, Monroe nodded slowly, poking at his own salad in disinterest.
    “Can you tell me about myself?  What did I do?  What did I enjoy?” She shrugged. “Besides pizza, I mean.”  She worried her bottom lip, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she asked hopefully, “What was I like?”
    Monroe set down his fork, putting his elbows on the table to steeple his hands and study her for long moments before asking, “Do you remember the mountains?”  He flicked a glance toward the window, and Eden’s eyes followed.
    “I do.”  She shrugged. “Finn takes… took ”, she corrected, “me there often.”
    Monroe had to clench his teeth at the mention of the other male.
    “He liked to hunt, and took me along.  I didn’t like it.  The hunting I mean, but…” she smiled.  “Something about the mountains just calls to me.  I wish I could leave my job and spend all my time up here.  It’s beautiful.”
    “It is,” he agreed, swallowing his delight at the rare appearance of her smile.  “I ask, because they remind me of you.”  He dropped his hands.  “You’re very similar to those mountains, Eden.  Strong and breathtaking.  I’ve lived up here a long time, and just when I think I’ve got this place figured out, bam, something changes, something new and magnificent appears to remind me why I love this place so much, and why I call it home.  It’s fascinating, like you.  Solid, firm, and yet so damn natural.  You’re unrelenting.  When you want something you get this gleam in your eye, and I know it’s already done.  Once you set your mind to something, that’s it.  And you’ve got this grace you’re not even aware of, which only serves to make you all the more graceful.”
    Her cheeks warmed.  “I’ve never heard anyone refer to mountains as graceful before.”
    “That’s because they don’t know them like we do.  And don’t get me wrong, Angel, I was talking about you .”
    The word Angel did something funny to Eden, and she swallowed hard, blinking at the unexpected endearment. 
    “Eden, you are the singular most phenomenal human being it has ever been my