Page 22 of Bent Out of Shade
He hugged me back, resting his cheek on the top of my head. “Are you free Tuesday night? I know it is not a typical date night, but Friday is too far away.”
I smiled, my breathing slowing to match his, and snuggled in tighter. “It’s my week with Sadie.”
He groaned.
“But I’m sure she can spare me for an evening.”
“Good. Wear stretchy clothes. You like to eat.”
I jolted up stiffly, my arms crossed. “I beg your pardon?”
The doofus nodded enthusiastically. “Oui. A family that I helped a couple years ago have a restaurant. They’re hosting some celebrity New York chef who’s doing a tasting menu that lasts several hours.” He rubbed his hands together. “Lots of courses and lots of time to spend together.”
Ah. He wasn’t being insensitive. Just clueless. Shifters needed to consume a lot of calories, while for me, it was more a choice than a requirement. “I’ll wear my snazziest stretchy clothes.”
A tiny crease appeared between his brows, and I could tell he was wondering if he’d screwed up, so I grinned.
A long, lingering dinner with lots of wine and conversation and the building up of sexual tension? Hell, yeah. I pressed a hand to my flushed cheek, my insides fizzing in anticipation. “It sounds lovely.”
“It does.” His eyes bored into mine.
I bit my bottom lip, savoring the energy crackling between our bodies.
“Move it, wolf,” Emmett said, clomping down the hallway toward us. “We have a debrief and you’re not invited.” He’d changed into a blue smoking jacket and black boxer shorts.
Flirting interruptus.
Laurent stepped back. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Until Tuesday.”
“Until then.”
He bared his teeth at Emmett as they passed each other.
The second the front door closed, Emmett shook his head. “What you see in that dude is beyond me. I know it’s hard for old women in the dating pool, but—oomph.”
I dug my elbow into his gut.
“Which totally doesn’t apply to you, you spring chicken,” he said.
“Just shut up.” I stomped back into the kitchen, the golem chortling softly as he followed.
We sat down at the large round table, and Tatiana pushed her laptop and retro keyboard to one side.
“Nu?” she said. “This job with Vincenzo won’t encroach on Zev’s territory?”
“Not unless a vampire is responsible for his missing Sapien fiancée.” I held up a hand to cut off Tatiana’s protest, and her immediate switch to hear me out was a nice change from the days I’d tiptoed around her power. “I made it clear that we’d need Zev’s permission to hand that person over should that be the case.” I paused. “He doesn’t intend to turn her. She isn’t interested.”
Emmett grimaced. “Gross. She’ll grow old and wrinkly while he stays hot. Why would a vamp agree to that?”
Tatiana fiddled with her large onyx cocktail ring, her expression wistful. “Vampires can be surprisingly romantic.”
“Is this based on personal experience?” I said super casually.
She speared me with a flat look. “I’ve met lots of vampires, Miriam. They have a wide range of personalities.”
That wasn’t an answer, and from her supercilious raised eyebrow, she was enjoying withholding her history with Zev from me. Eh. I’d break her. Eventually.
“Where do you intend to start?” Tatiana said.
