Bestselling Amazon Series
RUNES
(Book One)
By Ednah Walters
Raine Cooper does not believe in magic or the supernatural, until her new neighbor, Torin St. James, uses weird markings to heal her and she starts seeing things others don't see and feeling things she's never felt before. There’s only one solution, she must find out what he is and why he can’t leave her alone because everything about him says he’s not human.
I texted Coach Fletcher, in case I didn’t make it on time, then slipped behind the wheel. The tire pressure should hold. Please, let it hold.
I backed out of the driveway and reached out to shift gears when my new neighbor left his garage, pushing a Harley. Shirtless. I swallowed, drooled. His shoulders were broad and well-defined. His stomach ripped.
He glanced my way, and I quickly averted my eyes and stepped on the gas pedal. My car shot backwards instead of forward and slammed into something, jerking me forward. Panicking, I hit the brakes and looked behind me.
“Oh, crap.” Of all the mailboxes on our cul-de-sac, I just had to hit the Petersons’.
Cursing, I shifted gears, moved forward until I got off the curb, switched off the engine, and jumped out of the car. Everyone had their mailboxes imbedded in concrete, but not the Petersons. They had to go overboard and use a fancy, custom-made miniature version of their house. Now the post leaned sideways like the Tower of Pisa, with red paint from my car all over the white pole. Their mailbox was totaled, the mail scattered on the ground.
Someone called out something, but I was busy imagining Mr. Peterson’s reaction when he saw his mailbox. He was a big conspiracy theorist. The government and people were always out to get him. He’d believe I deliberately knocked down his stupid mailbox.
“That looks bad,” Blue Eyes said from behind me, startling me.
“You think?”
He chuckled. “From that snarky comment, you must be okay.”
“Peachy.”
I picked up the mail. He moved closer as he helped, bringing with him a masculine scent hard to describe. It bugged the crap out of me that I liked it. Worse, the heat from his body seemed to leap through the air and wrap around me in ways I couldn’t describe.
My mouth went dry. The instinct to put space between us came from nowhere, but I ignored it. Only cowards ran when faced with something they didn’t understand, and my parents didn’t raise one. Still, a delicious shiver shot up my spine, and a weird feeling settled in my stomach.
I waited until I was in control of my emotions before turning to face him. I tried not to stare at his masculine arms and chest. I really did, but all that tanned skin was so inviting and begging to be ogled. I’d seen countless shirtless guys before. Half the swim team spent time in tight shorts that left very little to the imagination, but their bodies were nothing like his. He must be seriously into working out. No one could be this ripped without hitting the gym daily.
“My face is up here, Freckles.”
My eyes flew to his, and heat flooded my cheeks. I rushed into speech to cover my embarrassment. “I, uh, I was just leaving to go to swim practice and… and...”
“I distracted you. Sorry about that.”
He didn’t sound sorry. “You didn’t.”
He cocked his eyebrows. “Didn’t what?”
“Distract me,” I snapped and snatched the mail in his hands. “Thanks. I was checking my text messages when I should have been paying attention to where I was going,” I fibbed.
Amusement flared in his eye, his expression saying he recognized my explanation for what it was: a lie. He had incredibly long lashes and beautiful eyes. Sapphire came to mind but…
Grinding my teeth at my weird behavior, I started toward the driver’s seat, going for that space between us before I did something stupid like reach out and touch him or continue gazing into his eyes like a lovesick dimwit.
“Aren’t you going to tell them you hit their mailbox? I mean, it’s against the law to flee a crime scene and all that.”
I glared at him. “I will talk to them when they come home from work. For now, I plan on leaving them a note. Not that it’s any of your business.” I searched inside the glove compartment for a notepad or anything to write on, but found nothing.
“I could explain to them what happened if you’d like,” he offered in a gentle voice. “You know, share the responsibility. After all, I did distract you.”
Seriously, how could someone so beautiful and tempting be so arrogant and annoying? I counted from ten to one then said slowly, “I don’t need your help.”
“Actually, you do.”
“No, I don’t.” I marched to my house, conscious of Blue Eyes watching me. Sure enough, when I looked back, just before I entered the house, his eyes were locked on me, an amused smile on his lips. What was he so happy about? And why couldn’t he just go away?
I pulled a piece of ruled paper from my folder and scribbled an apology with unsteady hands, then went to Dad’s home office for a large manila envelope. Times like this, I missed him more. My eyes welled.
I blinked hard and put everything from the Petersons’ mailbox into the large envelope before taping my note on the outside. I’d have to figure out how to pay for a new mailbox. Mom didn’t like me working at the shop ever since I broke a few mirrors last summer, and jobs were hard to come by because of the bad economy. Something would come to me once I was calmer. Right now, I just wanted to get my butt to the pool and lose myself swimming.
I paused to calm myself before leaving the house.
Blue Eyes was studying the damaged mailbox like an insurance adjuster. Why couldn’t he go bother someone else? Or at least put on a shirt?
“Excuse me.” I skirted around him and propped the manila envelope against the crooked pole.
“I can fix this before they come home,” he said.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Really? How?”
A weird expression crossed his face, but his eyes were watchful as though he couldn’t wait to see my reaction. “Magic.”
“Magic?” My hands fisted. I was in trouble, and he was messing around. “You know what? Stay away from me, Blue Eyes. Don’t talk to me or even acknowledge we know each other when our paths cross again. ”
“Blue Eyes?” he asked, eyebrows cocked.
“That’s me playing nice.”
He laughed. “Look, Freckles—”
“Don’t call me that.” I hated that nickname. It was a reminder of the hated spots on the bridge of my nose and the teasing I’d endured in elementary school. I slid behind the wheel, started the car, and took off. I was careful not to drive too fast even though I wanted to floor the gas pedal.
I could see Blue Eyes watching me as he grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, until I left our cul-de-sac and turned right. My day had just gone down the toilet.
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