Page 35 of Bad Luck Vampire

“I drove.”

“Well, then, I’ll leave you here,” she said, offering him a smile and her hand. “Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, taking her hand. They both then stood completely still as a consortium of sensations vibrated between their clasped hands and spread outward. He could hear Sophie’s heartbeat speed up just as his own was doing, and could smell the change in her scent as excitement washed over them both. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and Alasdair was hard-pressed not to tug her forward, cover her mouth with his, and kiss her until she was mindless with need and willing to follow him anywhere to satisfy it. But the recollection of Odan’s raspy voice saying, Three-date rule ran through his head and he forced himself to release her hand, with a softly growled, “See you at seven.”

“Seven,” she agreed a little breathlessly, and immediately turned to continue to the front door, but he heard her mutter to herself, “You are so weak, Sophie Ferguson.”

Alasdair smiled to himself, and then his gaze slid to the large plate glass windows along the front and sides of the building and he blinked when he spotted the people visible through the tinted glass. He could see at least half a dozen people milling around the reception area, but four of them were standing at the window staring out at him.

He suspected they were the family members she worked with, but the tableau reminded him uncomfortably of a scene in a horror movie he’d once watched with Colle. Shaking his head at the thought, Alasdair gave them a wave and turned to head to his SUV.

Twelve

Sophie found herself bombarded with questions the moment she stepped through the door.

“Ohmygod! Is that him?”

“Jan said Alasdair of the flowers showed up and you went to lunch with him.”

“Good Lord, he’s hot, isn’t he?”

Sophie stared wide-eyed at the people crowded by the window staring out at a departing Alasdair. Megan, Bobby, and Lise were asking their questions while gaping out the window like goldfish in a bowl, while Mr. Tomlinson was just smiling faintly as he surveyed the parking lot.

“Sophie!” Megan cried with outrage when their questions weren’t answered quickly enough. Giving up her position by the window, her sister rushed toward her. “Is that him? The flower guy, Alasdair?”

“Yes,” Sophie said finally.

“He’s a big fellow,” Mr. Tomlinson commented, moving away from the window now too. “I hope he was a gentleman.”

“Definitely a gentleman,” Sophie assured him solemnly. “So far he seems like one of the good ones.”

“Good.” George Tomlinson nodded with satisfaction. “And do you plan to see him again?”

“Yes,” Sophie admitted reluctantly. “He—we’re having dinner.” She didn’t want to get into the specifics of it. If anyone knew they were planning to have pizza here, she wouldn’t put it past the whole Tomlinson clan to show up and join them so they could give Alasdair the once-over.

“Dinner. Good,” Mr. Tomlinson said with a nod. “Well, then, have fun and keep me apprised if there’s anything you think I should know.”

“I will,” she said and smiled faintly as he paused to give her a pat on the arm before moving past her to head to his office.

“So?” Megan asked as soon as her father had disappeared down the hall. “Tell us everything!”

Sophie laughed slightly and followed in Mr. Tomlinson’s wake, heading for the break room to store her leftovers as she said, “There’s nothing to tell, Megs. He came here, asked me to lunch. I said yes. We went to lunch. Ate, and came back. End of.”

“No, not end of,” Megan insisted, following her with Bobby and Lise trailing. “Where did you go? What did you talk about? What did he—”

“Swiss Chalet,” Sophie interrupted.

“Oh God! No!” Megan groaned. “Not there of all places.”

“Yes, there,” Sophie said with amusement as she opened the refrigerator door and slid her lunch in.

“Well, that’s him done, then,” Megan said unhappily. “No taste or class. You can’t see him again.”

“I picked Swiss Chalet,” Sophie said on a laugh as she closed the door of the refrigerator.

“Of course you did,” Megan said with exasperation, and then heaved a dramatic sigh and followed her out of the break room. “Well, let’s hope he picks somewhere finer for this dinner you mentioned. When is it? Tomorrow night?”

“We’re having pizza,” Sophie told her, knowing that would push the question of when out of Megan’s mind. She was right, of course.

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