The Minotaur Next Door by Erin St Charles

Author:Erin St Charles [Charles, Erin St]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732395954
Publisher: Erin Martin
Published: 2020-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Blake

Early Sunday Morning

I stood on Sophia's "What the hell do you want?" welcome mat and listened to the music on the other side of her door. It was turned down low, but thanks to my better-than-average shifter hearing, I could hear it. Reggae music, Bob Marley and the Wailers, if I remembered correctly. My father loved reggae music, even had a collection of antique vinyl records he'd subjected his children to, along with lectures about the social milieu that gave rise to the music, the meaning of the lyrics, and whatever else occurred to my dad at the time.

Puzzled, I frowned at the door as if doing so would satisfy my jealous mind, which easily assumed she'd invited another male to her apartment while I was out for a mind-clearing walk around the neighborhood. But other than the music, I heard nothing else inside the apartment. I hadn't ever known Sophia to listen to music this late at night. My hopeful heart imagined she'd been as restless as I'd been, unable to sleep, and turned to listening to music to take her mind off the events of the afternoon and evening. I’d channeled my restlessness into roaming the surrounding neighborhoods, as my kind did when agitated. At length, I'd found myself at the doorstep of my agency and thus, across the street from Sophia's café. And that's where I'd found the bundle.

I glanced down at the calm, slow-blinking orange cat I held in my arms. Fat Joey. I believed Sophia would welcome the critter with open arms, even at this late hour. Perhaps she'd welcome me the same way too.

I let out a thunderous, yet dry, sneeze, then twisted my nose as the allergic tickle persisted. I used a booted foot to tap at her door, low and soft at first, then insistent and loud when I had no response. I pondered the irony of making a ruckus in a manner similar to what I'd complained Winston had done just a few days before.

I'm an asshole.

The internal thought made me look at the bundle in my arms, and I realized Sophia might consider it—him—an attempt to manipulate her. They were going to see each other "later" she had said firmly when she put him out of her apartment. When a woman said "later" she often meant "not if I see you first." Especially this woman.

Not for the first time since I'd first laid eyes on Sophia, I wished I could be slicker with women. I wanted the easy charm of a wolf or coyote. Sophia was a business woman from an entrepreneurial family, beautiful, socially adept, and I was...a Minotaur. A temporarily unemployed Minotaur with an often-dangerous job, someone with little ability to read people and social situations. In short, Sophia was way out of my league.

None of that really mattered because from the first time I'd seen her curvy body, skirting the tables as she chatted up customers and cleared away debris with the grace of a dancer, I could only proceed with her in one way.

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