Page 16 of Cooking Up a Demon
“Mappy? He probably didn’t know where it ended up. I’m not sure he’s smart enough to gaslight anyone. And he’s definitely too nice to try it.” She grabs her books and comes over to the checkout counter where I’m counting out the drawer for the day. She sets them down and grabs her energy drink.
“What makes you bring it up?” She takes a drink, and I cringe. Those things are toxic.
“I think I’m falling in love with a demon.” I blurt without meaning to. I guess if you can’t tell your only friend, who else is there to tell?
I didn’t even know I was thinking it until the words came out. It was way too soon to even be thinking about love. Especially with a demon who pops in and out of my life on his whim. Maybe it’s the orgasms talking.
“Huh,” she takes another drink and shrugs. “Haven’t seen one of those around here. You’ll have to introduce us.”
And that is that. She changes the topic to sports romances. We talk books, upcoming book club, and she fills me in on some town gossip, including the latest Ask Ali claiming the Sasquatch kids were ruining the whole town by existing. It’s nice and normal and exactly what I need.
She leaves shortly after the store opens for the day. Traffic feels slow, especially after the rush of the weekend, but I do decent business for having most of my shelves cleared out.
By the time I get home that night, I’m equal parts exhausted and wired. I warm up my dinner from last night and eat it standing at the island. I’d sanitized it with bleach that morning after my shower. Flashes of last night with Kallax shudder through me.
Before I can think better of it, I put my dirty dishes in the sink and pull out the kettle. I make a cup of Getting Lucky tea while thinking of Kallax. But the tea doesn’t smoke away, and the demon never appears.
Chapter Twelve
Twelve
“Thanks for coming,” I tell the last of the readers who came to see the guest author, Mona Lotz, who is travelling through the area. Mona is a popular paranormal romance author, and I am lucky she reached out to me. I am also lucky Delia was willing to jump in and help with crowd control.
I lock the door and lean against it before blowing out a breath. Mona and Delia are long gone, and now the last of the readers are gone, I can get cleaned up and head home.
Not that home holds much appeal. Another night eating at the island by myself doesn’t exactly sound like fun. Nor does another night reliving the single night I spent with a demon.
It has been almost a month since he left. I am tired of calling myself an idiot for still hoping with every cup of tea or pot of soup he’ll appear. I’m definitely an idiot for still wanting him.
Delia has pointed out demons are kind of notorious for shitty behavior. There is something about my last moments with Kallax that eats at me. He’d been so sweet, and I believed he was coming back.
I quickly count down the drawer, store everything in the safe and head home. I know I should take care of the table and chairs and do a general cleaning, but tomorrow is Monday. I can come in on my day off. Again.
It took a little, but I’ve realized there is no such thing as a day off when you own your own business. I haven’t taken a single one since I arrived in Ghostlight Falls.
I stop by the grocery for salt and lime before heading home. I take a moment to appreciate Nonna’s gardening before I head inside. June has early flowers blooming. I can’t name most of the flowers or plants, but they are pretty and bring me peace.
A peace I need before heading inside and to the kitchen where memories linger. I’ve been through Nonna’s recipe book from front to back, and there’s nothing about summoning demons in there. Everything appears to be old family recipes.
I’m after a different type of recipe tonight. I pull the tequila and Cointreau out of the cabinet. It takes no time to slice the limes and mix myself a margarita. I’m adding the agave syrup when it begins to smoke.
I drop the bottle of agave to the counter and spin around to see the demon forming. I don’t even have it in me to be mad at the waste of good liquor.
As he forms and solidifies, a fine rage starts simmering under my skin. He fucked me five ways to Sunday and then left me for a month without a word. Now here he is showing up uninvited like nothing ever happened. What the actual fuck?
The smoke clears, and there he is standing and staring at me. For a long moment, we look at each other. Then he reaches for me, and I step to the side, out of his grasp.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I hold up my hands to ward him off. “You don’t get to just materialize in here.”
He cocks his head and then nods. “That’s reasonable.”
“Where the hell have you been?” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.
“Hell.” He shrugs and comes to stand next to me at the counter and begins mixing a drink. “I was forbidden from coming topside.”
“What? Why?”
He doesn’t say anything as he finishes mixing the drink before pouring it into a heavy glass tumbler. He offers it to me.
