Page 2 of Death and Donuts

“Let’s go visit Cross,” I said, taking pity on Tank. “Text him that we’re on our way.”

After putting away the sheet of pastry I’d been laminating, we piled into my aging compact car and drove to the old vampire lair.

“It’s a little ironic that the werewolves wrecked Juicy to chase out the vampires, but now a vampire is moving back in, don’t you think?” Vena commented. “Has Cross told you what he wants to do with the building?”

“No. Hopefully, not a seedy club, though. I never want to step into one of those again.” I shivered at the memory of being trapped in a storage closet filled with syringes and tubes. If Cross hadn’t shown up when he had, Vena and I might have died.

Vena saw my shiver. “Hey, with Cross' fat bank account and his love of posh things, there’s no way his business would be seedy. He’ll gut the place, and it’ll be like Juicy never existed.”

As I pulled into the parking lot of the three-story brick building, I saw Vena’s guess hadn’t been wrong. The For Sale sign was now marked as Sold, and remnants of the old club filled the two dumpsters near the door.

Cross walked out of the building with a red leather chair. His pec-hugging t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. The ripped jeans he wore molded to his backside as he leaned forward and chucked the chair into the dumpster as if it weighed nothing.

His typically styled-to-perfection auburn brown hair was mussed–but in a really sexy way that stripped away some of his flawlessness and made him more…touchable.

Vena let out a low whistle. “He dirties up nicely.”

I shushed her as I parked.

Cross looked over at us and waited as we got out of the car and walked the short distance to him.

He leaned in to kiss my forehead. “I’d hug you, but apparently, I’m nicely dirty.”

“It was a compliment,” Vena said. “Looks like you’ve done a lot of work already. When did you sign the papers?”

“Yesterday. I’m tearing out everything. In another day or two, the only thing that will look the same is the brick, but even that will get cleaned.”

We followed him inside, and I had trouble remembering what the club had been like before. The stage, lounge, and stripper poles were already gone, leaving an open, dust-filled space with holes in the ceiling and drywall—a space that had potential—but no one else was in it.

“Cross, who is helping you?” I asked.

“No one. I’m doing it myself.”

“I bet taking a crowbar to things makes for excellent therapy,” Vena said.

“Who said I used a crowbar?” Cross shrugged lightly. “Werewolves aren’t the only ones with enhanced strength.”

He caught me looking at his chest, and the way he smiled made my heart skip a beat.

“Let me show you around.” He led the way around the first floor, pointing out the windows that were still blocked and the storage walls that still needed to be removed before guiding us over to a staircase in the back.

“What’s up there?” Vena asked. “We only saw the first floor last time we were here.”

I wondered the same. The place had more space than I’d imagined.

“Right now, there’s nothing up there,” he said. “I’ve removed everything, but it looked like it had served as a sex den.”

“Sex den? I thought vampires were more into blood than sex,” I said.

Cross' gaze met and held mine for several beats. A blush crept up my neck, which brought back his slow smile, making my heart skip another beat. Was he purposely teasing me?

“Do I need a hazmat suit to go up?” Vena asked even as she started up the stairs. “I don’t want an STI. I need to be ready to go when Anchor decides to un-cock block me.”

Distracted by her ridiculousness, he looked away from me.

“I wouldn’t bring Everly to a place that could harm her health.”

“But you would with me? Wait, is that why I’m going up before Ev?”

---