Page 53 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“Alright. One that will knock your panties off. Unless you weren’t planning on wearing those either.”

If I hadn’t been driving, I think I would have passed out.

What do I wear for a date with a demon? Forget that. What do I wear for a date with the most handsome man on earth? Or, forget even that. What do I wear for a date? I haven’t been on a date in like fifteen years. And I haven’t had a man to get gussied up for in four years.

I have to go all the way to the back of the closet to find something decent to wear. I really should have given myself more time just so I could have gone shopping and gotten something new to wear. This will teach me to be so impulsive. Oh well. At least I did it. If I hadn’t done it in the moment, without overthinking it, I might not have done it at all.

I pull out a little red dress that I think might have been for a New Year’s Eve party back before I had a kid. It’s a little tight, but the ruching around the waist hides my permanent post-baby paunch quite well. I find some strappy gold heels that I also haven’t worn in who knows how long. And, yes, I do wear underwear. It occurs to me that I don’t know Damon’s plans, so I might be over- or underdressed, but at least I look fantastic, so he will at least get to see me before telling me I need to change.

I saunter into the kitchen, where Damon is waiting for me. At least, I guess he was waiting for me. I find him once again in a staring contest with the cat. But he tears his gaze away from Mr. Darcy when he hears my heels on the floor. I do my best to strike a sexy pose in the kitchen doorway.

“So, will this do for whatever you have planned tonight?” I ask.

Damon goes slightly slack-jawed when he sees me, and I notice that his eyes lock with mine. He doesn’t even look me up and down. He doesn’t linger on my body. He looks at me. He walks over and takes my hand in his, lightly kissing the back of it.

“It will more than do,” he says, his voice soft yet powerful. I feel my stomach quiver and hope I don’t lose all feeling in my legs. The last thing I need to do on my first real date since I became a widow is pass out.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask in a friendly, chipper voice, trying to take some of the sensuality out of the moment so I can feel my legs again.

“Just you wait,” he says as he wraps his arms around me. We are enveloped in a cloud of smoke and I feel like we are flying. I wrap my arms around his neck, afraid of falling.

“What’s happening?” I ask. But before I finish asking, we’ve landed and the smoke has disbursed. “What was that?” I wave the smoke away and look around. We aren’t in Mystic Cove anymore, Toto.

Damon waves his arms. “What do you think?”

I look around and realize it is very late at night. Even though we are surrounded by buildings, I can see stars above us. We are on a cobblestone walkway with old buildings on one side and a canal on the other. In the distance, I can hear music, a violin and a man singing. From my work as a graphic designer, I can tell that the buildings are Roman in style. Wait. Roman architecture? Canals? A man singing?

“Wait, are we in—” I gasp as I see a gondola appear from under a bridge. The gondolier standing in the back is steering the small boat, and he is crooning to two lovebirds sitting together in front of him. The couple waves to me, the gawking tourist, and I wave back.

“How did you do this?” I ask Damon, who is watching me with a huge smile on his face.

“I told you, I can go where I want, when I want. And, apparently, I still can as long as you are with me.”

“Wait, you didn’t know it would work? What was your plan if it didn’t?”

He shrugs. “Probably go to The Eat again.”

I laugh and Damon offers me his hand. I take it, and he leads me down the street and around the corner to a little restaurant right on the water. Across from the restaurant, a man sits on a stool and plays a concertina as he sings. It seems that he doesn’t work for the restaurant, but it is customary for diners to tip him as they leave. We are immediately seated, and the waiter brings us bread and wine without us even having to make a selection.

“Are you well-known here?” I ask, taking a sip of the wine. It’s fantastic.

“You could say that,” he says. “I own it.”

I have to laugh. “Oh, you are pulling out all the stops tonight, aren’t you?”

He laughs as well. “I have a lot to make up for, right? I’m sure you have a lot of doubts, dating a man like me.”

“No,” I say. “Remember where I’m from. I’m fine dating someone from a…peculiar background. But anything more serious, that is where I have to take a step back.”

“Demons are for fun, but not someone you take home to mama, right?” he asks.

“Something like that,” I say. “I mean, are demons innately evil? Can I trust you to stick around even if I get old and fat? How do I know you’ll be a good stepfather to my child?”

“I don’t have all the answers, Tamzin,” he starts to say, but I cut him off.

“And I don’t expect you to,” I say. “That’s what dating is for, right? To get to know one another? To learn to trust each other. To see just how you interact with Bella? Plus, this is all new to me too. I mean, just last week, I was still letting memories of my late husband pull me into a tailspin of depression. I might think I’m ready to move on, but emotions, memories, they have a way of flaring up. I’m not even sure I’m ready for something more serious. What if I’m the one who runs away? How can you trust me?”

“I’m willing to try,” Damon says, holding his hand out.

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