Page 67 of Death and Donuts

“Your parents?” Cross asked as he joined me.

“Yep. They’re all packed and ready to go.” I smiled at him. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome. I hope your mind can be at ease now that they’re safe. I want you to enjoy dinner.” With a hand on my lower back, he led me from the building.

“Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

A short drive later, we arrived in front of one of the higher-end restaurants downtown that took reservations months in advance.

A valet opened my car door and took my car keys.

“Enjoy your evening,” he said before he whisked off in my old car.

I looked at Cross. “Am I dressed okay for this place?”

He looked at our outfits, casual summer and hot vampire wear, and shook his head. “No. But I’ve reserved a private room. It doesn’t matter what we wear.”

“A private room? When did you reserve it?”

“When you were shopping earlier.”

I shook my head. “How? This place takes months to get into.”

“For some people, perhaps.”

He led me to a side path accented with pretty twinkle lights. A man wearing a full tuxedo stood outside the entry and welcomed us as he opened the door to an entryway decoratedin rich blues and silver. Another man, dressed in a matching tuxedo, asked us to follow him and led us down a hallway with four doors. He opened one on his right, and I stepped into a room twice the size of my bedroom. It had the same design as the entry and was lit with a chandelier over a long table set for two with white candles stationed along its length. A champagne bottle sat waiting in a silver bucket filled with ice.

The man pulled out the chair for me and pushed it in when I sat down. He then poured the champagne, filled our water glasses, announced that the first course would arrive soon, and left.

“Are there no menus?” I asked Cross.

“Not here. The chef prepares his signature dishes.”

The idea intrigued me. A static menu would be nice for non-adventurous folks who stuck to what they liked. However, for foodies who got bored easily, I could offer a “baker’s choice” selection that changed monthly or even daily. It would allow me to test new items to see what would stick and what might need to go—not just for the bakery but the dessert and drink pairings that Shepard was thinking of offering too.

“What are you thinking?” Cross asked.

I realized I was staring vacantly at him and grinned.

“Sorry. I liked the idea of signature dishes. We should try something like that at our place.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. “Our place. I like the sound of that.”

I knew how much he liked it when his eyes flickered with black. His soft smile, along with his darker eyes, did things to my libido.

“Even though I’m not ready to move in yet?” I asked.

“I have no reason to rush you, Everly. I have all the time to wait.”

Hearing that made me sad. While I appreciated his patience, I also understood what he meant. He had no lifespan. At least, not a natural one. I was the one who was aging and had a time limit, which brought about another set of concerns.

“Have you ever lived with a human? For a lifetime, I mean.”

Cross looked down at our joined hands and played with my fingers lightly.

“I’ve never wanted to until you,” he said.

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