Page 28 of Bad Luck Vampire

“I’m soakin’ wet!” Alasdair repeated, glancing down at his chest and the wet blankets that were now sliding down his stomach to pool in his lap.

“Aye, well, that’s o’ no matter,” Inan said now. “Ye’ll get wet in the shower anyway.”

“But my bed would not,” Alasdair pointed out grimly, his accent fading as he tamped down his temper and tried for reason. His gaze slid to the bedside clock and a combination of disbelief and outrage immediately brought his accent back. “Why the devil wid ye be wakin’ me up at this ungodly hour?”

“Because ye need to shower and shave do ye want to go collect yer lass and take her to lunch,” Connor said calmly.

“What?” he asked with disbelief. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

“This is Friday, the start o’ the weekend,” Inan told him. “Ye need to take her to lunch today, and then take her to dinner after work do ye want to get any houghmagandie tonight.”

“What?” Alasdair asked again, beginning to wonder if he’d hit his head at some point while sleeping and was suffering brain damage. He had no idea what they were talking about.

“The three-date rule,” Odart growled.

“Aye.” Inan nodded and explained, “See, we were researchin’ courtin’ lasses fer ye while ye were workin’ last night. To help ye along,” he added, and then held up a magazine open to an article with the large headline “When to Have Sex: The Three Date Rule.” “See now, there’s apparently rules to these things nowadays, and the third date is considered the right time fer sex without her havin’ to feel like a hurdie.”

“She shouldn’y be made to feel like a hurdie,” Odart said firmly.

Inan nodded. “But as life mates, ye ken ye’ll ha’e the lass in bed in no’ time. I’m thinkin’ ye’ll no’ be lasting past this night without introducin’ her to yer wee tadger.”

“It’s no’ wee,” Alasdair snapped.

Inan waved his words away, and continued, “The point is, ye’ll need to squeeze in lunch and dinner to get ye to three dates so ye can bed her tonight and no’ leave her feelin’ bad.”

Sighing, Alasdair sagged in the bed and pointed out, “Lunch and dinner are only two dates.”

“But the weddin’ last night makes three,” Connor pointed out, and before Alasdair could protest the wedding being a date for them, added firmly, “Ye spent as much if no’ more time with her than Tybo did last night. We’re thinkin’ it can be counted as a date.”

“She may no’ agree,” Ludan pointed out grimly.

There was a moment of silence as the men looked at each other and then Inan brightened and said, “After dinner, ye take her to another restaurant fer dessert. Three dates.”

“That wouldn’y be counted as a separate date since they were already out,” Connor pointed out with a frown, and then suggested, “Mayhap take her home after the sup, and then leave, go and buy dessert, and take it back to her... well, then ye’d be on a whole new date. The third one.”

Alasdair stared at them all, wondering when his uncles had lost their minds. Although, truthfully, he wasn’t sure they’d ever had minds to lose. The foursome had always seemed like men out of time to him. They were ale swigging, foulmouthed barbarians as his brother had said and just had not managed to move with the times. Although, to be fair, it appeared they were trying to, he thought, his gaze dropping to the women’s magazine Inan was holding. It must belong to Sam, he thought. She was his direct boss Mortimer’s wife and the only female living at the Enforcer house at the moment. That, or his uncles had gone out to a store to buy it. The very idea of his uncles leafing through women’s magazines to find articles on dating and when it was appropriate to have sex had him shaking his head.

Taking a breath to try to regain his patience, he said, “I appreciate that you want to help me. However, I cannot just show up at Sophie’s job and expect her to go to lunch with me.”

“Well, ye’d best else she’ll be wonderin’ where ye are and why ye didn’y show,” Connor warned.

“What?” he asked again. “Why would she expect me to—?”

“’Twas on the card,” Inan told him. “Ye invited her to lunch.”

“What card?” he asked with mounting alarm.

“The one with the flowers,” Connor explained.

“Flowers?” Alasdair squawked.

“Aye, ye sent her flowers with a card invitin’ her to lunch,” Connor said, talking slowly now, as if he thought Alasdair might not understand.

“Well, we did it fer ye, really,” Inan pointed out judiciously.

“Why the devil would ye do that?” Alasdair barked with alarm.

“To help ye,” Inan said with exasperation. “The way ye were just sittin’ there like a lump on a log last night at the wedding, it was obvious that ye’d need help claimin’ the lass.” His mouth pursed and he added, “I ken ye had to be careful since she was Tybo’s date, but ye didn’y e’en make an attempt at talkin’ to the lass after the meal was o’er.”

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