Page 25 of Bad Luck Vampire

Sophie smiled back, but guilt was seeping through her now. Was trying one man’s dessert bad when you were on a date with another? She didn’t really think so, except that it had been more than trying the cake. She’d taken the cake from his fork, and he’d served it to her. That was kind of intimate, wasn’t it? Maybe? Couples did that kind of thing. It probably would have been better had she taken the fork from him and served herself, or even asked if he would just cut off a bite and let her take it with her own fork.

But worse than that was the way she’d been staring at Alasdair with cow eyes before taking the bite. She’d been doing that a lot, looking at Alasdair. Her eyes seemed to be drawn to the man and she’d kept finding herself looking his way during the meal. Much to her excitement, every time she’d looked, he’d been looking back, so she suspected the attraction was mutual.

Had Tybo witnessed that? She hoped not. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she was attracted to Alasdair. Strongly. Sexually. In a way she wasn’t attracted to Tybo. But she was Tybo’s date. It was probably disrespectful to be lusting after another while on a date with him. She needed to show some respect for her date and rein in her mounting attraction to Alasdair. She wouldn’t like it if their roles were reversed and she’d invited someone on a date and they had then obviously been attracted to another woman.

A person couldn’t control who they were attracted to, but they could control their actions. The respectful thing to do would be to concentrate on Tybo tonight, and keep her distance from Alasdair. It sucked because she had no idea if she and Alasdair would ever encounter each other again, but she didn’t want to be the girl who went to a wedding with one man and left with another.

It was probably for the best anyway, she told herself to reinforce the decision. If she was cursed as she and her friends joked, then it would definitely be safer for Alasdair not to get involved with her.

Sighing, she picked up her glass and took a sip, then offered Tybo another smile. Now that the wedding was done and dinner was nearly over, he would be able to spend time with her. She was his date. Time to start acting like it.

“Are you all right?”

Alasdair tore his gaze away from where Sophie and Tybo were dancing to glance at Marguerite. “O’ course,” he assured her, and then suddenly concerned that he might look as miserable as he felt, asked, “Why? Do I no’ look all right?”

“Do ye look a’right?” his uncle Connor echoed with disbelief. “Ye’ve got a face like a melted welly, lad. And yer natural accent’s makin’ a show. Ye’re obviously hurtin’ to watch the lass with Tybo.”

“No’ that we blame ye,” Inan put in. “I’d be ragin’ if another man was pawin’ all o’er me life mate.”

Alasdair scowled and glanced toward the dance floor again. Tybo wasn’t pawing all over Sophie right now. The song playing was a fast one and they were a foot apart, dancing to the beat. But during the slow songs, he did hold her as anyone would while dancing to a slow song. Those were harder to watch. Still, he wouldn’t call it pawing. Tybo held her hand with one of his, and kept the other firmly at her center back, not lower back, or anywhere near her behind. Much to his relief, Tybo didn’t even hold her as close as he could have during those songs. He still kept an inch or two of space between them and Alasdair appreciated it . . . even if it was still hard to watch.

“I’m thinkin’ we lure Tybo away from the party, give the bastard a good thrashin’, and tie him up to keep him oot o’ yer way,” Inan suggested. “Then ye can take Sophie behind the tent and—”

“Oh dear God! You will do no such thing,” Marguerite interrupted with dismay. Shaking her head, she said more calmly, “She is Tybo’s date tonight. You should be grateful he brought her here allowing Alasdair to meet her.” Turning to peer toward the dance floor at the couple, she added, “He understands she is a possible life mate to Alasdair and is behaving like a gentleman. But she is his date tonight. Do you expect him to just dump her in Alasdair’s lap? How do you think that would make her feel? She has no inkling about life mates and that she is Alasdair’s. She would not understand. She would either be hurt at Tybo’s rejection despite her attraction to Alasdair, or feel like he saw her as a piece of meat to be passed around.”

Turning back, she scowled at the uncles. “If you have read her mind, then you know she is, of course, attracted to Alasdair, but she is also suffering some guilt about that because she is on a date with Tybo. Just let them be tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough for Alasdair to start wooing her. In fact, it gives him time to come up with a plan.”

“Aye. A plan,” Connor said with a nod. “We can help with that.”

Lord, help me, Alasdair thought and cursed his bad luck in their being present for this momentous time in his life.

Nine

“So? How was the date?”

Sophie glanced up from her computer and smiled at Megan as she led Bobby and Lise into her office. Their arrival was not a surprise. She’d arrived at the office a little early this morning and already been hard at work when the others had shown up. Despite the fact that they were all employed by the family business, she’d known they’d wait for break time to grill her about her date the night before and they had. It was now ten thirty. Break time.

“The date was fine,” she said with a faint smile as she stood up and moved around her desk to head for the door.

“That’s it?” Megan asked, following her out of her office. “Fine? We need deets, Soph. ‘Fine’ is not an answer.”

“Okay, okay,” Sophie said on a laugh. “The wedding was held in big tents at a golf course. The bride wore a white-and-black dress and—”

“Who cares about the wedding?” Megan interrupted with disgust as they entered the break room where George Tomlinson was seated with a coffee, reading the newspaper. He always took the first break with them, while the other office workers were split between the second and third break. They split lunches the same way, taking them in shifts.

“Hi,” Sophie said in greeting, just stopping herself from adding Papa at the last moment as she affectionately squeezed his shoulder in passing.

“Hi,” Megan said too, and then simply continued on with their discussion. “We want details about your date and if he— Wait, did you say the bride wore white and black?”

“Yeah.” Sophie grabbed four cups and moved to the coffee machine to start pouring coffees as she explained, “It was mostly white, but with black lace along the hem and over the bodice. It was actually beautiful.”

“Hmm,” Megan muttered as she retrieved cream from the refrigerator. Her expression suggested she was trying to visualize it, but after a moment, she shook her head and said, “Anyway, more importantly, how was the date part with...”

“Tybo,” Mr. Tomlinson supplied from behind his newspaper when Megan hesitated, apparently unable to recall Sophie’s date’s name.

“Right. Thanks, Dad. Tybo,” she agreed, and then muttered, “Sounds like a martial art.”

“It’s a nickname,” Sophie explained. “Short for Tyberius. He was named after his great-grandfather.” That was something she’d learned last night. They’d done a lot of talking and actually got along really well once he’d been free of his best man duties. In fact, if she hadn’t found herself so attracted to Alasdair, Sophie might have been happy to date Tybo. However, she had been seriously attracted to Alasdair, which had placed Tybo firmly in the friend zone for her. Fortunately, he’d seemed to feel the same way and hadn’t even tried to kiss her good night at her door. At least not a proper kiss.

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