Truth or Demon (16 page)

Next, she’d had to stop because her shoe was untied, which for some unknown reason required her to almost totally unlace her shoe, so it could be relaced and finally tied.

And now this problem.

Poppy tapped the folded newspaper against her leg, watching as Daisy continued to fiddle with the shoe.

But before she could hurry her along, a chime sounded from Daisy’s backpack, announcing an incoming text message. Daisy dropped the shoe and fumbled in the side pocket of her bag for her phone. Funny, she could always find that.

“Daisy! You don’t have time—”

Her sister lifted a finger, silently telling her to wait just a second as she read the text.

“It’s just Madison checking to see where I am.”

Poppy smacked the paper impatiently against her leg again. “I wouldn’t wonder.”

Daisy, the girl who’d done nothing but dawdle this morning, shoved her foot back into her shoe, grabbed her backpack, rose and then practically speed-walked toward Madison’s apartment.

Poppy followed, shaking her head, totally not understanding what her little sister was doing this morning.

When they reached Madison’s apartment, both she and Emma waited outside.

“There you are,” Madison called much louder than necessary.

“Yes, I’m finally here,” Daisy said, her voice just as loud.

But before Poppy could ask them why on earth they were talking that way, the door behind Madison opened, and Killian appeared. He was barefoot, clad in a pair of the jeans he’d purchased yesterday and a pale blue shirt with the same cut as the white one. Half the buttons had been left undone, revealing a glimpse of muscular chest. His hair was unruly from sleep, and a night’s worth of facial hair darkened his chin. He’d clearly just tumbled out of bed.

Poppy swallowed, willing her gaze elsewhere, then forcing herself not to recall her erotic dream.

“I thought I heard someone out here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, then shutting the door firmly behind him.

“I think most of this floor heard someone out here,” Poppy said, giving the girls a searching look.

“Sorry,” Daisy said, keeping her voice to a near whisper now. “See you tonight.”

Without waiting for an answer, the girls hurried toward the elevators.

Poppy frowned, watching them scamper away, still feeling like something had gone on here that she didn’t understand.

“Come on,” Killian said, gesturing down the hallway toward her apartment. “Gin … ger is still asleep, and I don’t want to wake her.”

“I think you might be too late,” she said, but followed him down the hall. He smiled over his shoulder at her, and she tried not to give any credence to the strange flutter in her chest.

It’s nothing. Nothing.

Once around the corner from Ginger’s place, he stopped and pointed to her hand. “What’s that?”

Poppy glanced down, confused. Then she saw the reason she’d come here in the first place.

“Oh, this is for you.” She handed the paper to him. “It’s a list of singles events going on in the area. I thought, since you are interested in meeting someone, this might be a good idea for you.”

He scanned the ads, then nodded. “This is a good idea.”

She smiled, although the gesture felt forced, and she couldn’t understand why. Wasn’t this her plan? Didn’t she want him to be involved with someone so she could get her silly attraction to him under control?

“There’s one tonight.” He glanced up from the paper. Her eyes met his and held. As if to make a point—a point she could have done without—her body reacted. His golden gaze was like a physical touch, reaching out, stroking her skin. Making her body hum with awareness. With longing.

She managed a nod. “Yes, I saw that.”

Duh, she was the one who circled it, after all.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

C
HAPTER
18

K
illian started walking away, hoping it was going to be that easy. No such luck.

“Wait,” she said, before he was even a few steps away. “What? Seven?”

He turned back to her, and she shook her head. “I’m not going with you.”

He returned to stand in front of her again. “You’ve got to go with me.”

“Why?”

He frowned as if the answer should be totally obvious. Not that he expected the look to sway her. But he needed to buy himself a moment, because he didn’t have an answer to that one either.

Finally, after another I-should-think-this-would-be-evident look, he said, “If I go alone, then I’m that creepy guy, hanging at the bar, sipping the same watered-down drink, watching women. Making them uncomfortable.”

“I doubt any woman would feel that way about you,” she said, although her expression didn’t indicate whether that was a compliment or not.

“Really?”

If he was hoping for an outright compliment—which he was—she wasn’t biting.

“Why don’t you ask Ginger? I’m sure she’d go with you.”

“You know Ginger,” he said, hoping that was vague enough to make sense to her. Since he didn’t know Ginger at all.

Poppy sighed. “Yeah, I know she doesn’t like to go out when she has time with Madison.”

“Exactly.”

Poppy looked down at the floor, tracing the carpet design with a sock-covered toe. Finally, she said, “I don’t see how having another woman with you is going to help you meet women.”

Well, that wouldn’t be his strategy if he was really looking to meet women, but he wasn’t, so … “The women will see me hanging with a female friend and just assume I must be a good guy,” he said.

Poppy’s eyebrows drew together. “How will they know I’m only a friend?”

“They just will.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized they were pretty insulting. But did that matter? She wasn’t going to be with him. She was going to meet someone herself. That was the goal.

Eye on the goal.

They would just know.

Poppy told herself not to be offended. After all, she didn’t want to be seen as his girlfriend. She didn’t want to go at all.

“I can’t go,” she told him, starting to move away from him. She needed to get away. She didn’t like where any of her thoughts and feelings were going at the moment.

“Well,” he said with a big sigh, “I guess if you won’t go, I won’t either.”

No! That wasn’t good. She needed this man to be involved with someone for her own sanity.

She paused, struggling with the urge to growl in frustration. But instead she said, “Fine, I’ll go.”

Killian smiled. A breathtaking, stunningly beautiful smile.

Oh, she so needed him otherwise involved, and a night out was hardly a huge sacrifice to see that happen. Like it would take him more than a night to find a woman.

“See you at seven,” he said again, and headed down the hall. She watched him leave, then hurried back to her apartment.

Once inside, she told herself to force all thoughts of Killian and tonight out of her head. She had work to do.

Without further thought, she went to the kitchen and filled her favorite oversize mug with coffee. She added her usual abundance of cream and sugar.

Mug in hand, she went to her desk. She sat down and set the cup to her right within easy reach. Then she tidied up the chapters still askew from her attempt to work in bed. The papers clacked on the desktop as she lined up the edges, then she placed them directly in front of her. She lined up her red pencils. She liked to have three of them. That way if the tip broke, or got dull, she didn’t have to stop to sharpen it. She just reached for another.

With everything situated, she could now work. And not think about—anything else.

She took a sip of her coffee, picked up her pencil, then focused on the last portion of the manuscript she’d read,
Title Risk and Insurable Interests.

She tossed down the pencil.

Really! How could he be so darned certain she’d be only seen as his friend by other women? Was she not attractive enough to be his girlfriend? Not interesting enough? Did they really look so unlikely to be together?

Okay, she knew that she wasn’t his usual style. She looked down at her baggy, ripped jeans. Jeans she wore because she worked at home, and what was the point of getting all dressed up to sit at a desk in her own place? They were comfy. And her shirt—she grimaced slightly as she realized that she was wearing her vintage Atari T-shirt—which was admittedly a little geeky. But she’d had the tee for years. Adam had been into vintage video games, so she’d bought it because she knew he’d like it.

She sighed. Okay, maybe she should part with this particular shirt. But overall her clothing was practical for her life. And she didn’t have a life that merited designer clothes.

Then she touched her hair, knotted on top of her head in her usual messy bun. But again, that was just sensible. She hated her long hair getting in her face when she worked.

And makeup. Well, there was no point at all in bothering with that.

So she didn’t sport the female equivalent of his style. But would a whole room of women honestly rule her out as his girlfriend?

She groaned at herself. Why did it matter? He was attractive, so she was naturally attracted to him, but she didn’t want him.

“He’s arrogant. Just look at the ‘friends’ comment. And he’s shallow. Look at how Old Navy threw him. And he can be totally rude.”

And you, my friend, are totally talking to yourself.

She was willing to bet crazy cat ladies always talked to themselves. She grimaced. Maybe Daisy had a valid reason for concern. Maybe she did need to get out there and meet people. Maybe half her reason for being so attracted to Killian was because he was actually the first man she’d done something with since … well, in a really long time.

Maybe tonight was the perfect time for her to meet some single men too. It certainly wouldn’t hurt her to mingle with them. To remember how to be comfortable around them. Then she wouldn’t focus all of her thoughts on a man who was so not
her
type. Yeah, why was she worried about being his type? He wasn’t hers.

“And we’ll see who’s mistaken for the friend.”

* * *

Poppy came out of her bedroom, tugging on the form-fitting turtleneck sweater. Now she remembered why it had sat in her dresser, unworn, for so long.

“Wow, you look great.”

Poppy looked up from frowning down at the snug garment.

“You really think so?”

“Trés chic,” Daisy said, and Poppy noticed her sister was working on her French homework.

“Nice.” But Poppy did smile. Daisy went back to conjugating
obliger
—to make someone do something. Which seemed apropos, although Poppy had no idea who was making whom go on this outing tonight.

Or what had made her decide to wear these clothes. She also wore a new pair of jeans, which just reminded her why she loved her old, worn ones. She felt more like a trussed chicken than a fashionista.

“Don’t look so miserable,” Daisy said. “You look fabulous.”

Poppy appreciated her sister’s compliments, but somehow they made her want to back out of this whole night even more. What if Daisy was just being kind and she looked … well, silly?

“Are you sure you are okay with me going out?”

“I’m fine,” Daisy said, shaking her head as if she knew Poppy was looking for an excuse to stay home.

A knock rattled the door, startling Poppy. She hesitated, tugging at her sweater again.

“Go answer the door,” Daisy told her with an encouraging smile.

Poppy nodded, then strode down that hallway in a pair of boots she’d only worn once, the heels clacking on the hardwood with an assertiveness she didn’t feel. Taking a calming breath, she opened the door.

Killian stood on the other side, looking like he had just walked off the set of a modeling shoot. He just wore jeans and the white shirt from yesterday, but he still managed to look stunning. His hair was still a little damp from his shower, flipping at the ends in an attractively tousled way. And he’d shaved, leaving only a patch of hair under his lower lip. The look accentuated his sculpted lips and added a little edginess to his beauty. He looked sexy and naughty and …

She was staring.

Her eyes moved up to meet his, only to discover he was doing his own inventory of her. His golden gaze roamed over her until she had to brace her muscles to stop the shiver his heated perusal created.

“You look fantastic.” His voice was low, velvety and so sexy.

She pulled in another breath, losing herself to a shiver. “You too.”

He smiled then, and her limbs turned to jelly.

It was the lack of oxygen from her tight clothing, she told herself. But then she managed to get enough to her brain to invite him in.

Killian told himself to stop staring, but as he followed Poppy down the hall, his eyes were locked on her. Or more accurately, at this moment, her rear end.

The jeans she wore were dyed dark blue and fit her to a tee, the material emphasizing her legs and the curve of her perfect little butt.

When they reached the living room, he managed to tear his stare away, but he wasn’t certain it was before Daisy noticed the direction of his look.

She gave him a glance he couldn’t quite read, but then smiled. “You two look ready for a fun night.”

Killian nodded, not that he was sure what this night would be like. As he glanced back over to Poppy, he knew with her looking like that, he wasn’t going to have any trouble finding her a boyfriend.

“Daisy, really, if you are nervous being alone, I can stay home.”

Killian could hear an almost pleading quality in Poppy’s voice, but he knew she was begging the wrong person. Daisy was a girl with a mission.

“I’m almost sixteen, Poppy. I will be fine. And if I need anything I can go to Madison’s or Emma’s or any of the neighbors’. Plus, I could just call you. You’ll only be a couple blocks away.”

Poppy nodded, but she was noticeably disappointed. “I know.” Then she seemed to brace herself as if she was getting ready to go get a root canal rather than going out to a ladies’ night.