Chapter 9 #2
“Kohl? What is it?”
“Was anything missing? Did you check?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he joined her in the living area where she waited patiently.
Devon nodded. “I did. Nothing is missing.” She came to stand in front of him, and a look of concern crossed her features as she studied his face.
“Why didn’t you call me?” And there it was. The real reason he had this sick feeling in his gut.
“It was the middle of the afternoon—”
He slashed his hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. You promised you would call me if anything happened.”
She took a step back and her hands went to her hips, steel glinting from her eyes. “And what the hell would you have done, Kohl? Huh? Run out into the sunlight to come and save me? Like I was some sort of damsel in distress? You wouldn’t have made it two feet.”
“I would’ve done something.”
“What exactly would that be?”
He would’ve shifted and flown over here, and fuck the witnesses. “I don’t know!”
Her eyebrows rose at his tone.
Kohl reined in his temper. He wasn’t angry with her.
He was angry at the thought that something could’ve happened to her and that she was right.
There wasn’t a fucking thing he could’ve done about it.
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry.
I just…I’m worried about you.” Biggest understatement of the year.
Her fingers wrapped around his forearms and pulled his hands away from his face.
She smiled up at him, and the spark of life lighting up her eyes chased away his fears.
“I’m fine. I didn’t come in. I called the police.
And Frank came over and hung out with me for a while after they left, just in case.
At least until it was time for me to get cleaned up for our date.
And speaking of which—” She laced her fingers with his.
“I seem to remember a certain someone promising me dinner.”
Kohl stared down at their linked hands. His large and inked, hers elegant and soft. They were the prettiest hands he’d ever seen. He took a deep breath and raised a hand, still linked with hers, to touch her face with the tips of his fingers. “I did. Are you hungry?” He grinned. “For food?”
She laughed up at him. “Actually, I really am starving. And I would love to go have dinner with you. But,”—worry lines appeared between her eyes—“won’t that be weird? For you, I mean. To just sit there while I eat?”
“No. It won’t be weird. I’ll have some wine.
Doesn’t do much, but it doesn’t hurt.” He dropped a kiss on her knuckles, wishing they could stay in, but knowing it wasn’t going to happen, much as he would like it to.
This woman affected him too much. There were times, when he was with others, the vampire in him made an appearance.
It was hard not to. Feeding and sex were closely linked for him, one enhancing the other.
But no woman he’d ever been with had awoken the beast. Not ever.
Not until Devon. However, last night, he’d felt the beast stretching its wings both times he’d kissed her.
Felt its pleasure. Almost as if, every time he touched her, he had to share her with the thing inside of him.
It both unsettled and infuriated him. Kohl didn’t like to share.
“Are you sure you’re doing okay? You look tired. ”
She shrugged. “I didn’t sleep much last night, but I’m glad you’re here.”
Her words warmed his heart. “Is Irish food okay? I know this great little place on the outskirts of the city. It’s small, but this great family owns it, and it’s never crowded. Even on a Saturday night.”
“It sounds perfect. Let me get my coat.”
While he waited, he glanced around her place again, wondering if she’d agree to have cameras installed, at least out here in the main room.
They took her car this time, as the temperature had dropped during the day and this night was much colder than the last, and the restaurant was a bit of a drive.
Kohl gave her directions, and they talked more about her previous job and what she was doing to make ends meet now.
It was easy to see she was wasting her intelligence, but she assured him she was content to have work where she didn’t have to double guess every move she made.
Somehow, he didn’t quite believe her, but he let it go.
They arrived at the restaurant, a little stone house with a green roof set back away from the road, and Devon gasped when they pulled into the parking lot. “It’s just like a little cottage! How charming!”
Kohl got out and ran around the front of her car to open her door for her.
“It is a cottage. A perfect replica of one you’d find in Ireland, and everything inside is authentically Irish.
The dishes, the lace tablecloths and curtains…
even the owners. And the food is all made from scratch.
” As they walked up the stone walkway, he filled her in on what little history he knew of the place.
“The parents came over from Ireland in the late seventies, if I remember right. They opened this place and the entire family runs it. The original owners are gone now, but the kids—all, like, in their forties or so—have taken over.” He opened the door for her and followed her into a small entryway decorated with photos of their guests over the years.
Beyond the entryway was the first room of the cottage, filled with little tables covered in white lace tablecloths.
Another room opened up through an archway to their right, and there was one more room toward the back near the kitchen.
A middle-aged woman in a flowered dress with a lace collar and coral lipstick greeted them. She was still pretty, with long dark hair and bright blue eyes in a fresh-looking face, and her soft voice had a lovely Irish lilt. “Hello, Kohl! How are you now?”
He smiled at her. Though he didn’t frequent the restaurant for the food, he’d gotten to know the family who owned it rather well.
They were good people who minded their own business.
“I’m good, Margaret, thank you.” With a nod to Devon beside him, he said, “This is Devon. Devon, this is Margaret. The eldest daughter.”
Devon smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Oh, and what a lucky guy you are to have such a pretty date,” Margaret told him with a twinkle in her eyes, then she turned to Devon. “He’s never brought a lady friend here, I’ll have ya know.”
Kohl grinned back at her. “Do you have a private table?”
“Of course. Come with me.” With a smile, their hostess grabbed a couple of menus and led them to the room at the very back of the house.
The place was nearly empty. Only one other couple was there, and it looked like they’d already eaten and were enjoying an after dinner coffee.
Seating them at a table for two in the far back corner, Margaret lit the candles in the center of the table and promised them her brother would be right over with some soda bread and homemade butter.
Devon looked around at the wallpaper with its little green flowers and then felt the lace of the tablecloth. Traditional Irish music with soft flutes played quietly in the background. She smiled at him. “This is so quaint. I love it, and I haven’t even had the food, yet.”
“It’s quite an experience,” he told her. “They’re very into the presentation. Oh, and make sure you order the French Onion Soup if you like that kind of stuff.”
“I love French Onion Soup,” she told him.
Their server arrived, a man in his late thirties or early forties who looked much like his sister, only with shorter hair and a little extra girth, greeted them with the same soft, lilting voice and open smile. He took their drink orders and left.
Kohl watched the candlelight dance across the dips and hollows of Devon’s face.
The soft lighting did nothing to diminish the glow of her skin, and highlighted the shadows beneath her cheekbones.
When she turned her head to the side to admire the knickknacks on the windowsill, the diamond stud in her nose sparkled prettily.
But it was nothing compared to the glitter in her eyes when she looked at him.
Kohl knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it.
She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon. “Are you okay, Devon?”
Her eyes flicked up to his with surprise. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“After what happened at the club the other night, I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. We can leave at any time. Just say the word.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. “But this is nice. I really just want to not think about it.”
He studied her. She really did seem all right. “Okay.”
Their waiter came back with their wine and Devon ordered the soup Kohl had recommended along with the lobster dish, then handed the waiter her menu with a smile.
When he left, she picked up her glass and tried the wine. “Mmm. This is really good.”
Kohl watched her lick a drop from her bottom lip, and his gums tingled, releasing his fangs just enough to taste the air.
Delicious scents came from the kitchen. It smelled good, even to someone like him.
But not as good as the woman who sat across from him.
The tantalizing aroma of her blood mixed with the earthy warmth of sunlight soaked into her skin was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He loved the smell of sunlight.
A sudden vision of Devon writhing beneath him, nude and warm from the sun, filled his head. The image was so clear he could feel her skin heating his.
“So, why can’t you mess with my head?”
Her question took him by surprise and succeeded in distracting him from his lusty thoughts. “I’m sorry?”
“You said last night that you couldn’t mess with people’s memories. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Why not?”
They were interrupted by their waiter as he set down a basket of soda bread in the center of the table. Kohl thanked him and waited for him to leave before he answered her. “Uh…I just can’t.”