Page 121 of Fake Fae-Ancée

SNEAK PEEK - A Monstrous Catch

A Monster Rom-Com

by Emily Cane

Mae

Looking back,I should have seen it coming much earlier.

But not even when my glam failed to work a week ago, forcing me to wear a thick woolen cap in the freaking middle of summer whenever I leave the house, I would have never expected the regulation board to send an Incubus after me that fast.

Yet, there he is, loitering next to the stack of crappy thriller novels in the entryway, hands in the pockets of his Italian suit.

Cursing inwardly, I duck behind the cash register. To no avail, of course. Jonathan has already spotted me. He gives me a twirling wave along with a crooked smile. He looks harmless, like a scatterbrained professor who had strayed in here merely on accident, and not like a Daemon of Euphoria, the incarnation of lust and desire that he actually is. But hey, I don't look like that either — and I of all people should know how to hide in plain sight, shouldn’t I?

I gulp. The two customers waiting in front of the counter have to be served. A spontaneous escape out the window is not an option.

"Can you gift wrap this for me, dear?"

I force a smile and nod. "Of course."

Mrs. Cooper is my favorite customer. Every other day she purchases a book for one of her numerous grandchildren, and I love to chat with her while giftwrapping "Counting to Hundred with Vampires" or "Kaspode the Wonderdog" and talking about her cats. But right now my fingers are trembling as I rip some wrapping paper from the large roll behind the register, and I have to violently suppress the urge to grab my stuff, jump the counter and run for the hills.

Because, believe it or not, the Sex-Daemon just leafing through the latest gory true-crime novel is the least of my problems right now.

Right behind the old lady, with her tweed suit, eager smile and thick glasses, the other customer is waiting.

The one I didn’t dare look at since he has entered the store twenty minutes ago. Tall, with auburn, unruly hair. He always wears a different shirt under his suit jacket. It is always a band shirt. Today’s choice isFall Out Boy.

He casually holds his desired purchase for the day in one hand. I know it has to be volume five. Every day since he has first shown up on Tuesday, he’s bought another book from "The Scandalous Debutants"- my favorite series of cheesy regency romance novels. Whoever the lucky girl is for whom he is buying all those, she apparently has the ability to read at supersonic speed.

"There you go." I hand Mrs. Cooper her wrapped gift and cash the purchase with my fingers trembling.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Cooper says. "Is everything all right? You look a little pale."

"Just tired," I assure her with a shaky smile.

The Incubus has strolled over to the self-help books, browsing the merchandise casually. Not enough that the regulation board has obviously not forgotten about me after all, as I secretly and against all logic hoped. No, out of all available case workers they had to send my cousin.

My attention snaps back as the other customer waiting behind Mrs. Cooper just shifts in his stance. I avert my gaze quickly, before I can meet his eyes.

I know they are bright blue.

Very startlingly so.

"You young people work too much," Mrs. Cooper says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You’ve got to enjoy yourself a little, dear. You're so young and so pretty. When I was your age…"

She rambles on about the olden days when she hit the nightclubs in New Hamburg City as a young whippersnapper for at least five more minutes, before she finally grabs her gift-bag, says goodbye and hobbles out of the store.

My pulse fires up.

The stranger — auburn haired Fallout-Boy — places"The Scandalous Debutants"volume five on the counter. I adjust the cap on my head, pulling it securely over my ears before daring to look back at him.

"Hello," Fallout-Boy says.

I'm never cool, not even under the best of circumstances. And now my mouth turns as dry as sandpaper.

"Good afternoon," I croak.

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