5. Melly

5

MELLY

I was flirting with someone I'd just hired, and I loved it. But . . . He was on the rebound from a bad breakup, and I could tell he'd been hurt. He wouldn't feel ready to try with someone new.

At my comment, he stilled in his seat, staring out the windshield. "How dirty are we talking about?"

Should I take this farther?

I hadn't dated in over two years, and my most recent attempt was a Tinder dude who catfished me. My last intimate moment was with the monster toy in my bedside table and even that had been a while. I liked Elrik; I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him after we met. I'd stared at him during Tuvid and Angie's wedding to the point one of the other bridesmaids told me to speak with him. Which I did. He muttered something and disappeared.

Silly me had pictured Elrik and I standing at the altar instead of our friends, a dream that had bordered on creepy. I'd thought I'd long since ditched fanciful dreams, that I'd left them in my past, where they belonged.

If I let that hold me back, I'd never know if we stood a chance, right?

My heart nodded, so I went for it.

"As dirty as you'd like it to be," I said, my voice all breathy. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I waited to hear what he'd say. I had to release my grip on the wheel to turn the corner, taking my car down the road I lived on with Grannie.

He didn't say anything, and while I'd like to call the silence companionable, tension thrived in the air.

"I shouldn't have said that," I finally said.

"It's okay." He flashed me a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Maybe my comment reminded him of his ex. He'd pretty much said he was in love with her. And now she was marrying his brother. "Wouldn't you just like to kick other people sometimes?"

His laugh snorted out. "Yes, I would."

I wanted to ask if he still loved her or if he'd started to get over the pain, but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear his answer. By the time I'd pulled into the driveway, put the vehicle in park, and shut off the engine, my heart was beginning to accept that nothing would come of this.

All thoughts of flirting with him or pushing to see if he was open to someone new had flown away. "I'll keep this professional. I promise."

He unbuckled and turned in his seat to face me. When he cupped my cheeks with his surprisingly chilly hands, I released a shiver. "You're lovely. I don't believe I've ever met anyone as special as you."

Now he'd add "but".

"I want to kiss you," he said instead.

"Then why don't you?" I croaked.

"It's forbidden."

That, I hadn't expected. "Forbidden by who?"

His hands dropped away. "Me." He turned away and opened his car door, climbing out.

I got out as well. My throat felt tight, and my chest hurt, but I'd lived through the death of both of my parents. I'd dealt with bullies in school. People in town snootily suggesting I wouldn't make a go of my ice cream shop.

I could handle this too.

He rounded the front of the car and stopped in front of me. "I'm sorry. I . . . I told myself I wasn't going to get involved with anyone."

"Never?" I traced my fingertip across my lips, wishing that he'd kissed me.

"For a while."

"How strong is your vow?"

"It's not quite a vow."

"A promise to yourself?"

"Not even that," he said.

"It's okay if you don't want to get involved with anyone." With me, that is. It hurt to think he didn't see right away that we might be good together.

"I'm not exactly saying that." He ran his fingers across the top of his head, messing up his hair .

I wouldn't push him. We barely knew each other. But minds could change . . .

He hefted his pad of paper and pen, fluttering them in the air. "Let's gather some evidence, and then we can talk."

Whenever a guy wanted to talk, it usually involved letting me down gently. So much for getting dirty.

"Sure." Faking a smile, I waved for him to go ahead of me up the paved walkway. "Grannie lives in the house. I'm in the apartment above the garage."

His gaze shot in that direction before landing on me again. I swore I read a hint of sadness there.

We went inside.

"Grannie?" I called out as I shut the back door. "I've brought Elrik from Monsters, PI. He'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I'm in the living room, dear," she said cheerfully. "Bring him in." Her voice lowered, and a hint of mischief came through. "From your description, I bet he's cute. Is he? I get so few visitors that it's nice when they're cute."

"What do you think?" I whispered. "Are you cute?"

He shot me a smile that made heat flare through me. "I believe I am cute. What do you think?"

I grumbled. "I think you're a guy with a promise he made not to get involved with anyone yet."

"Touché." He scratched the back of his neck, and his gaze dragged from mine to the floor as if he wasn't sure how I'd respond to his words. "I'm beginning to think I should relax my rule."

It was all I could do not to gush. "Truly? "

His gaze met mine again, his still quite serious. "Maybe."

Maybe? Talk about mixed signals.

"This way." I guided him out of the kitchen and down the short hall to the living room where Grannie Rose sat on the sofa, skeins of yarn around her and a partly finished mitten in her arthritic hands.

"He is cute." Setting aside her knitting, she started to stand.

"Please, don't get up." He strode toward her, his hand extended. "I'm Elrik Nivalis. I think I'm cute."

"See?" Grannie chuckled as she stared up at him. "I'm delighted to meet you in person, Elrik. You said you're an ice lord?"

"Yes, Nivalis is a very old name, though it used to be common among the ice people." He tapped his muscular forearm. "We all have light blue skin."

"It's quite attractive." Her head tilted. "I've met various monsters since they decided to settle among humans, but I don't believe I've ever met an ice lord. If you don't mind me asking, what kind of monster is that?"

I was as interested in hearing what he had to say as my grandmother.

He waited for me to sit in the chair to Grannie's right before settling beside my grandmother on the sofa.

His gaze held mine as he spoke. "Long ago, when the world was still young, it's said there were gods who ruled over the natural elements. Among those deities were those whose hearts matched the cold harshness of winter itself. "

"The ice lords," Grannie breathed. She loved a good story as much as me.

"This isn't real, right?" He couldn't be a true god.

"This is my family's history as it's been told for many generations," he said without a hint of humor in his voice. "I'm real, so . . ."

"Let the poor man finish, Melly," Grannie said, though sweetly.

She might be stern with those in town, but she'd rarely scolded me. I'd done all I could to please her. After Mom died, the social worker told me I'd probably wind up in foster care. I decided that if anyone took me in, I'd not only behave, but I'd also be the perfect child. Then no one would reject me like my dad did.

"I understand having doubts about ice lord history," Elrik said. "I've certainly shared them with my family."

"Can you control the weather?" I asked.

"Not so far." His grin rose before falling. "My family used to live in frozen citadels nestled high within jagged mountain peaks in the coldest regions of Canada, where blizzards roar across the mountains and consume the plains."

"Amazing." Grannie's brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

"It's said ice lords controlled every flake of snow that fell on the planet, that we created each in its own unique shape. That we formed icicles sharper than swords. That even our homes were made of ice bluer than the Caribbean Sea."

"It must be true," Grannie said with a pert nod. "Someone has to do this for our world. "

"My people have been slowly dying out, however." His gaze sought mine again before returning to my grandmother. "Long ago, we left our ice castles and moved into the valley. We married humans and slowly, the way of the ice lords died out."

"Aw." Grannie sighed. "Such a sacrifice to make to continue your species."

"Not completely. Some of us still maintain a few of the abilities of our forefathers."

"Do you?" I asked, intrigued. His hands had been cold on my cheeks. When I touched his arm, it felt equally chilly. Was all of him cooler than a human?

"I can't control the weather, but I can produce this." He held out his palm, frowning at it, and a small block of ice appeared.

Grannie gasped.

My eyes widened.

"It's mostly a parlor trick now," he said, sharing a smile between us. "Though I recently formed a wall of ice to stop someone from evading arrest. In times of great need, the skill sharpens. There's no other way to describe it."

"I can see where that would come in handy," Grannie said. "How do you make ice like that?"

"I pull the coldness from deep inside me." He glanced my way. "We have a lower body temperature. About ten degrees lower than a human's. But . . ."

Grannie leaned toward him; her eyes wide. "But?"

"It's said when an ice lord meets his fated mate, she thaws him."

"Truly?" I asked .

He nodded, his gaze gliding down my frame. I shouldn't shiver from such a simple gesture, but one look from him made everything inside me tingle.

"I hope a fated mate doesn't take away an ice lord's ability to make ice," Grannie said. "Because you need that skill in your line of work."

"That ability will never go away."

"Well, that's good then." She cocked her head to look up at him. She was so tiny compared to Elrik, she looked like a doll dressed in a housecoat. "Now you've left that cold climate and come all the way to Cape Cod."

"I needed a change," he said, his eyes on me again.

"Well, Mystic Harbor is lovely." Granny nodded pertly. "We're busy with tourists in the summer, but it's wonderful in the winter when it's just us locals." Her soft smile faded. "But you didn't come here to share your family history, though I greatly appreciate hearing about it. You also didn't come here to create an ice cube that's now melting in your hand."

He snorted and took it to the kitchen. It clinked when he tossed it into the sink. Returning, he sat beside Grannie again.

"You're here to make sure I don't end up in jail for hurting my friends," Grannie said sadly.

"You're not going to jail," I said. "I'm not allowing it to happen."

"I'm not either." Elrik grabbed the pad of paper and pen he'd dropped on the coffee table and placed them on his thighs. "Let's start in the beginning, shall we?"