Page 93 of Soft Flannel Hank

He snorted again and looked down at his sock-covered feet.

“I mean it, Hank. You’re the best,” she said before taking a long sip of her coffee.

He looked up and watched her watch him. He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and he let it spread.

* * *

A week later,Esther sat on a barstool at the little square kitchen island and watched Hank cook eggs and bacon. She wondered who she could call to report the absolute crime that was Hank in a pair of gray sweatpants. They sat low on his hips, beneath the swell of his belly and hugged his muscular ass in a way that was frankly obscene.

Hank turned around and looked surprised to see her staring at him like that.

“What?”

“You look good. That’s all.”

“What?” he scoffed, looking down and pulling at his white t-shirt that had little holes in it from wear.

“You look good in those sweatpants,” she said, her eyes focusing on the bulge beneath the material that grew the longer she stared at him.

“So this is what it feels like to be objectified.”

They ate breakfast without much talking, sitting side by side at the little island on barstools that creaked. Hank cleared the table, and, unable to hold herself back anymore, Esther slid in front of him at the sink, dropped to her knees, and went down on him as he leaned his hands against the kitchen counter, those gray sweatpants pulled down just far enough to free him.

His revenge was calculated as he held her down and made her come with his fingers and tongue until she couldn’t speak anymore. And then he made her come again.

The day was lazy, the way all of them had been in a world without cell service or internet, cut off from reality and all of its accompanying problems. For lunch, they ate soup she’d made the night before. Sandwiches for dinner. Another apple crumble for dessert.

At the beginning of the week, Esther had found a stack of board games in the closet, but most of them were missing pieces so she taught Hank how to play gin rummy. Once he’d gotten the hang of the rules, he beat her half the time.

It was late, and she couldn’t stop yawning as she dealt another hand. Hank set his cards down and stood. “Time for bed.”

“But I can’t stop with you winning two in a row.”

“Too bad. You’re gonna fall asleep in your cards and I don’t want to sleep next to you if you haven’t brushed your teeth.” He was still hesitant when he teased her, as if it were an utterly unfamiliar act that he was trying on for size, but Esther liked it.

“Fine,” she grumbled, though it was all for show.

Esther brushed her teeth, pulled her hair up in a high pony with a satin scrunchie, and climbed into bed to wait while Hank took care of his own pre-bedtime routine. After a few minutes, he joined her and she curled up against him, her back to his front. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and Esther sighed as he fell asleep almost instantly behind her. Before long, sleep claimed her too.

Her dreams were murky at first. Slippery watercolors that glided across one another, showing still scenes of oceans and forests and mountains and long stretching roads that reached the horizon. But as she slept, as the night progressed into its darkest points, the colors and textures of Esther’s dreams became more solid.

Callum rode in the backseat of a dark-tinted SUV next to a man who had tattoos on his neck and knuckles.

“Do you ken where to find her?” Callum asked, his brogue deep and raspy.

“She’s hiding out with that big guy. The ex-cop. They left town a week ago.”

“Interesting,” Callum mused, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “His name?”

“Hank Dove,” the stranger said. “When we didn’t find anything in his house, I did some sniffing around town. Found out that he’s good friends with that vampire contact of yours in town. Nat Jasper.”

Callum sat up straighter, his jaw clenching.

The stranger continued. “I went to his house while he was doing his day sleep. Found his firebox, which had a deed for a cabin about six hours north of here.”

Though asleep, Esther’s whole body tensed. Her breath came faster. Harder.

“Do you ken how to get there?”