This was the weirdest job she’d ever had — and the most exciting.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was falling in love with a man she’d barely met.
She glanced back. He was in the same place, watching her.
Her heart fluttered.
Yes. She was definitely twitterpated. Crushing. Maybe even falling in love.
One Confused Enchilada
MICHAEL’S HEART SANG AS HE walked toward the Wildwood Hotel.
He found himself whistling a tune. When he realized he’d been whistling a cheery Carpenters tune, he laughed. Where had that come from? Well, he did feel on top of the world.
He was happier than he’d been in the longest time. He hadn’t realized until he met Dixie how melancholy his life had become. How empty it was without her.
Now it was full of her. Her gaze. Her plump lips that just begged to be kissed. The wonder that she saw in everything around her.
And last night, lying in bed, he’d had a wonderful idea. He’d decided to walk Dixie to work today, and ask her to dinner at his mansion tonight. A romantic, candlelight dinner with none of his family or the townsfolk around. Just the two of them. And the chef, of course, because Michael couldn’t actually cook anything.
He’d heard the gossip last night, after Dixie and Stacy had left. Everyone was indulgently amused by Pixie’s “disguise” name of Dixie, and his mother had confided in him that she’d said she didn’t have a father, which worried her. The consensus had been that usually pixies are more creative, but she seemed sweet, if not very bright. He’d overheard the last when he was walking inside, but he’d decided not to rush out and defend her honor — and her IQ — though he’d wanted to.
She was plenty smart. And pretty. And funny.
And there she was!
His heart sped up as he saw her, ahead of him, slipping out of the hotel entrance doors. She was dressed more expensively today, in a mint green swirl of a dress, her wings reflecting the sunlight.
This was the first time he’d seen her wings except in the mirror, other than last year.
He grinned and waved to her. “Hi, Dixie.”
She stopped and stared at him. “That would be Princess Pixie to you.”
He lowered his hand, surprised and dismayed. “You asked me to call you Dixie.”
“In your dreams.” Dixie made a flicking-him-aside motion. “Run along now.”
“I’ve come to walk you to work.”
Her lips quirked up. “Are you on drugs?”
“I don’t do drugs.” But he was beginning to wonder if she did.
And then he realized it. The vibe — the lifemate buzz — was gone. As in totally.
There was no warmth there at all. It was like she’d been when he’d met her at the two official functions. Cold. Aloof. Condescending.
“Anything else to say?” she asked.
“Apparently not,” he answered. He turned away, crossing the street.
Wow, had he misread that or what?
She’d been great last night; she’d actually looked a little disappointed when his mother insisted on walking her to her car. So what could have possibly happened to cause such an about-face?
If Michael were food, he would be one confused enchilada.
He didn’t know what was going on with Dixie, but he knew one thing for sure.
He’d just been dismissed.
Michael walked into the lobby of the law firm, still reeling.
Peggy waved at him. “Good morning, Michael.”
He forced a smile. “Good morning, Peggy.”
She tipped her head. “Are you all right?”
Squaring his shoulders, he replied, “Sure.”
“You sure? You seem a little down.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, walking into his office. He fell into his chair, propped his feet on the desk, and just stared at his wall.
What had just happened?
It was as if Dixie didn’t even recognize him. Was she angry over Birch leaving last night — or something else? She’d smiled at him as she left. And, even though she’d left with Stacy, she had been warm toward him. What had happened between last night and this morning?
Glum, he pushed a file from one side of the desk to the other without even opening it.
A knock sounded on the door.
He sighed. “Come in.”
Isaac popped in. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not what Peggy said. And you know one of her gifts is to intuit feelings.” Isaac pointed at his brother. “So I’ll ask again, and this time I expect an honest answer. What’s up?”
Michael sighed again. “I don’t think it’s going to work with Dixie, after all.”
Isaac crossed his arms and waited again.
“Take a seat, at least.”
Isaac sat and waited for his brother to continue in his own time.
Michael sighed. Normally he wouldn’t talk over feelings of any kind, especially not romantic ones, but he was so confused he had to talk to someone, and Isaac was his best option. “I went over to walk her to work this morning, and she acted like she didn’t even recognize me. She did everything but call me peasant.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like Dixie.” Isaac shrugged. “But it does sound like Princess Pixie. Maybe the princess has realized that you’re — sorry, bro — beneath her royal self. She is the fae princess, after all.”
“I was getting lifemate signals. I know it. I don’t understand it. I didn’t get them from her before this week. Then this week I got them, but they’ve been weaker than others have described.” He pushed the file off the side of his desk. “I obviously imagined it.”
Isaac glanced at the file and papers on the floor, then stared at him. “You have it bad.”
“There’s absolutely nothing between us, apparently. I misread everything.” Then he had a horrible thought. “Maybe this is the king’s way of getting back at me for winning the lawsuit last year.”
“You think Dixie deliberately sent you the wrong signals? And now she’s planning to break your heart?”
“Ouch.” If that was true, then she probably wouldn’t even come back to work, now that she’d accomplished her goal.
He pushed another file off the desk.
“Hey, I’d love to stay and watch you disintegrate, but I have an appointment in,” he checked his watch, “T-minus three minutes. I’ll come back later to make sure you haven’t staked yourself.”
“Very funny.” Michael glared at his brother, who shrugged and left the room.
Michael had to get some work done. He had an appointment in about an hour. He must get ready for it.
But how was he going to do that when all he could think about was Princess Pixie-Dixie?
His limbs began to warm and tingle and his heart thudded. At the mere thought of her, apparently.
But then the feeling grew until warmth swirled throughout him, filling every nook and cranny of his body.
Dixie?
As if she’d snagged him on a hook, he stood and opened his office door, walking down the hallway.
Dixie stood in front of the mirror, smiling, turning from side to side and watching her wings flutter.
At the sight of her, his heart calmed. Dixie was his lifemate. There was no mistaking this feeling. He was sorry she didn’t think the same about him.
But when she looked up and saw him, her face lit up in a smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. How could he resist her charms? He couldn’t take a step back. What had he been thinking?
He crossed to her. “Are you okay now?”
“Oh, yeah. Stacy had a headache last night, but she felt better this morning.”
So she had been upset about Stacy.
“I’m really sorry about my cousin.”
“Oh, don’t worry about him. We totally understand about work.”
She was her bright, cheery self — the self he’d fallen in love with
.
He was thankful she wasn’t mad at him anymore. And he hoped to never have her mad at him again.
“About Stacy,” he said, hoping not to make her upset now, “do you think you could leave her at the hotel just for one night? For some just-you-and-me time?”
“Of course. If I don’t do it all the time, it’s fine. I just don’t like leaving her every night.”
“I’d like to show you my house.”
Even if he got hurt, he was going for it. This feeling was so strong, it had to be real. He didn’t understand why it was intermittent, but at this moment he knew — knew, without a doubt — that she was his lifemate.
He’d take it a little slower this time.
And he’d make sure whoever he lined up for Stacy’s date knew they’d better be on duty for the entire evening, no matter what.
“Is that your house?” Dixie stared at the huge mansion Michael was driving toward. She was very much looking forward to dinner at his place — but she hadn’t expected anything quite this opulent.
“Do you like it?” He sounded as though he cared what she thought about it, and that was endearing.
“What’s not to like?” She stared at the manor house. “Do you have a butler?”
He chuckled. “Actually, I don’t. But I do have a housekeeper. I think Mrs. Harbinger’s like three hundred years old, but she runs a tight ship.”
“She sounds a little intimidating. Will I get to meet her tonight?”
“No. She and the chef will have already left. It will be just you and me.”
Dixie’s pulse raced at the thought. They’d almost kissed several times already. If no one else was around, she was going to get kissed. She’d make sure of it.
He parked in front, and came around to hold the door for her. Then he took her hand and walked her up the steps to the large, fancy overhang. He placed his hand on one of those handprint recognition things like in the movies, and the door started opening.
“Cool.”
He led her inside, the door closing slowly behind them, ending with a solid click. “Would you like to eat first? Or have the tour first?”
Just so long as the tour didn’t include the bedrooms. She wouldn’t be safe there tonight, and she planned on staying safe. “Why not show me the main floor and then let’s have dinner?”
“All right.” He motioned around them. “The entryway was decorated by my mother, which is why there’s lots of ornate stuff in here. Exhibit A is this totally useless suit of armor.”
“Useless maybe, but way awesome.” She touched the metal of the knight’s armor and it was smooth and cool against her fingertips.
He took her hand again and led her through an archway. “This way is the formal living room.”
The spacious room had a fireplace on the far wall with a couch and four armchairs arranged before it. A large wooden table stood in the center of the room. Despite the room’s size, it had a cozy feel, probably because of the fireplace. “That’s got to be gorgeous when it’s lit.”
“It is. Stick around for a while and I’ll show you.”
“Stick around, like for months, you mean? Until fall when it’s actually fireplace weather?”
She was going for levity, but he caught her eyes and a slow smile crossed his face. “I meant for a lot longer than that.”
Warmth fluttered through her and for once, she was speechless. “Oh.”
Taking her hand, he led her to his restaurant-quality kitchen.
“Wow. I’d love to get a chance to cook in here, if your chef doesn’t mind, of course. I wouldn’t want to upset her.”
Michael chuckled, and the sound wound around her. “I don’t think Kevin would mind at all.”
“Kevin? You have a cook named Kevin?”
“A chef named Kevin. Even if I had time to cook, I have no talent for it.”
After she admired the kitchen, he led her to an adjoining room. “And here is the dining room. Our restaurant for the evening.”
The table was large and ornate, but two place settings had been set at one end, close together. Candles were spaced at about twelve-inch intervals up the length of the table, ten of them, with the last in front of the place settings. The lights had been dimmed.
He’d fixed her a candlelight dinner.
He was a romantic at heart.
Her heart melted.
Michael watched her face for signs of approval. When she smiled and whispered, “This is beautiful,” he let out a breath of relief.
“Not as beautiful as you.” He let go of her hand and pulled out a chair for her.
She sat gracefully and blushed a bit at the compliment. “Thanks.”
He turned to the warmer Kevin had left on a side table and lifted the lid. He pulled out their plates and placed them on the table.
He swept out a bottle of merlot and held it up for her inspection. “Wine?”
“Thank you.”
He poured and carried the two goblets to the table. Setting them down, he sank gracefully into the chair beside her. “I hope you like salmon.”
“I love salmon.”
He breathed another sigh of relief, mostly because she was still being warm toward him, and he was still feeling the buzz. So far, so good. “Go ahead and taste it. It’s Kevin’s specialty. Lemon Tarragon Salmon with Asian salad and spicy asparagus.”
She cut a piece of salmon and tasted it. “Oh, wow. It practically melts in my mouth.”
He smiled and allowed himself to take a bite. The first few years of being a vampire, during the decade it took their bodies to adjust to undeath, were the hardest for a vampire. During those years, they had to subsist on blood alone. Then, like a baby advancing to a toddler, then a child, and then an adult, they could have liquid foods and, finally, solid foods.
He still needed blood weekly, but bagged bloods were sufficient to satisfy the craving, with his favorite being B3, a faux vintage of the rare Type B blood sporting three additive minerals: copper, zinc, and magnesium.
Usually he wasn’t aware of the pulse points of people he was around, but he was suddenly very aware of Dixie’s. He pushed that awareness back. It wasn’t time for that.
She took a few more bites of the salmon, the salad, the spicy asparagus, and then sighed again, and he was pleased that she was enjoying the meal. He’d never wanted to please someone as much as he wanted to please Dixie.
As they continued to eat, they talked about nothing of consequence, just enjoying each other’s company and getting to know one another. He definitely liked being around her.
Finally, she set her fork down and drew in a final satisfied breath. “Please tell Kevin that I love his specialty.”
“I will. He’ll be pleased.” And so was Michael.
“This is very nice. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She smiled at him. “How on earth can you afford this place? It’s palatial.”
“Surely you’re used to that.” She had, after all, been raised in the fae palace.
“Not something like this.”
This was much less palatial than her father’s actual palace, so she was being kind. Yet another part of her he loved. He paused. Where to start? “I’ve done well in my practice.”
“I’ll say.”
He grinned. “And it doesn’t hurt that my family had lots of money to start with. This was my grandfather’s home.”
“I like that. Family history is important. Tell me about your parents. I only have one, so I always wished I had both.”
It would be hard to have your mother run away right after you were born, but he wouldn’t push her to talk about her mother’s abandonment. “My father is a type-A alpha personality. He’s the one who was my example for a lot of things. He’s an attorney and encouraged me to follow in his footsteps. My brothers, too. And my mother is a nurturer. She’s like the leader of the pack.”
“Like in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, when the mother says the man is the head of the house, bu
t the woman is the neck, and the neck can turn the head any way she wants to?”
He laughed at the image. “Exactly.”
“That’s what I want for my children. Two parents.”
She sounded wistful and he couldn’t resist reaching out and taking her hand.
As they looked at each other, her face reddened. “I don’t usually talk about children on first dates.”
“What do you talk about?”
She laughed. “The weather.”
The weather. What a stupid thing for her to say. She felt herself blush again.
He laughed with her. “I don’t feel like this is a first date. I feel like we’re at least on our fifth or sixth date.”
“I agree. I feel comfortable with you. I have from the first.”
He stood and picked up some sort of remote on the side table. Then soft music started playing through a very nice sound system. He held out a hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Her heart fluttered. “Yes.”
She took his hand and stood. He placed his hand on her back and took her other hand in his and began to move around the room.
The music was old fashioned, from the big band era, and he began to lead her in more and more elaborate twirls. He led expertly and signaled his moves well, so much that she could sense his next move as if he were verbally announcing it.
They floated around the room, gliding, touching, twirling.
And then the song ended, and they came to a stop, laughing.
Then they weren’t laughing, and he kissed her. She melted against him, enjoying the moment.
His lips were warm and gentle against hers, but there was a possessiveness about them that made her want to surrender to him. No, not surrender, exactly — more like acknowledge she was his.
She wound her arms around his neck, and he tightened his arm around her waist, placing his hand in her hair and pulling her into the kiss — as if she needed encouragement for that.
When he finally pulled back, she opened her eyes to find his blue-green eyes filled with more gold than usual.
She leaned in for another kiss, and he obliged her.
She didn’t think she would be exaggerating if she claimed the earth did, indeed, move beneath her feet.
The Bridesmaid Earns Her Wings: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #2 Page 7