Page 36 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“Hey,” Damon says gently. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

I dab at my eyes with my napkin. “What…what happens to humans when we die?”

Damon shakes his head and taps his nose. “Now, that would be telling. Life needs at least a bit of mystery, don’t you think?”

“Sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “You’re right. We were having fun, right? Just a good, old-fashioned night out.”

“That’s right,” Damon says, wiping his face with his napkin and putting it down. He stretches his arms over his head, and I can see every muscle in his chest and arms through his shirt. “So, what shall we get for dessert?”

I look down and realize that I ate way more than I had intended to. “Oh, I don’t know. How can I possibly have room for dessert after I just ate all that?”

“I’m sure you can find room,” he says, waving Rachel over. He orders a chocolate lava cake with ice cream and two glasses of dessert wine. When the wine glasses arrive, he raises his in a toast.

“To…us,” he says.

I raise my glass and an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” I ask skeptically.

“Yes,” he says. “Never before have a demon and a human gotten along so swimmingly.”

“What about your paramours?” I ask teasingly.

“They didn’t know I was a demon,” he says.

His words surprise me. Could it really be that he and I are sharing something he has never experienced with another human before? He might have had friends and lovers before, but none who knew who he really was? What he really was? What does that mean? I can’t accept that Beverly might be right about this. That my blind date—my soulmate—is a demon. It doesn’t make sense. I need to find out who hexed me and why so that he can be free to go on his little demon way and I can get back to my old life.

But do I want to go back to my old life? I have to admit, I was pretty miserable. Okay, a lot miserable. I don’t need a demon to torture me. I do a pretty good job of that myself on a daily basis. Yeah, I know it’s not rational. I didn’t kill my husband. At least not with my own two hands. But he died because of me, and the guilt doesn’t just go away because I want it to.

Do I want it to? I don’t know. I’ve lived with it for so long, I don’t know how I would feel without it. I don’t remember what it felt like to be happy. To be free of this burden. At least, I didn’t until tonight. I’ve hardly thought about Mark at all. I had…fun. I even felt something like…desire? I want Damon to touch me. To kiss me. I couldn’t do it, of course. I’d feel too guilty. But still, I have felt…longing. But what does all this mean?

“Hello? Tamzin?” Damon says.

“Sorry,” I say, coming back to myself. “Yes. To us, and this great night out.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be the last,” he says.

Is he asking me out for a second date? I can’t let that happen. I’m not ready for anything beyond friendship right now.

“I could certainly use a night out once in a while,” I say, and I clink my glass to his. We both drink and then dig into the lava cake. Ugh, I’m going to have to work this off with Cora at the gym on Monday. But it’s so good! When we finish, I lean back in my seat and rub my belly.

“You look happy,” Damon says.

“I feel…good,” I admit. “I think I needed this.”

“We all need a break from life once in a while.”

“I better get back and relieve Beverly,” I say. I try to stand up, but wobble on my heels. Damon rushes to my side to help me.

“Hey, take it easy there,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I say, but my vision is a little blurry. Damon wraps his arm around my waist and I throw one of my arms over his shoulder—his strong, muscley shoulder.

“I’m sure you are.”

“Night, Rach,” I say as we walk past her.

“One more notch in Beverly’s belt?” Rachel asks me.

“Don’t give that witch so much credit,” I say. “I’m gonna make her regret setting me up with a demon.”

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