Truth or Demon (17 page)

“Let me just get my coat.” She disappeared from the room.

As soon as she was gone, Daisy set her schoolbook aside and scooted across the couch to get closer to him.

“I think your plan is a good one,” she whispered.

Killian frowned and shook his head, not sure what plan she was referring to.

“That you are taking your time finding her a guy,” Daisy said. “She hasn’t been with anyone since her last boyfriend. She really thought he was the one. But he wasn’t all that.”

Rather than making him feel good, Daisy’s comment bothered Killian. Poppy was still pining for her ex. The guy didn’t deserve that kind of mourning as far as Killian was concerned.

Apparently, Daisy felt the same. “Adam was a musician, and he thought he was so cool, but he was really just a pretentious jerk. He really, really hurt her.”

Poppy hadn’t said that when she’d spoken of him, but he’d gotten that impression anyway.

“This time, I want her to have someone really good for her. Someone who will treat her the way she deserves. Someone perfect.”

Killian nodded, although he didn’t know anything about perfect. Perfection wasn’t what got people into his world. Imperfection, shortcomings and failings were what he understood.

But if Mr. Perfect was out there, then Poppy deserved him.

As if on cue, Poppy walked back into the room. She’d added a tailored gray peacoat and a red-gray-and-black plaid scarf to her outfit.

The combination of colors made her skin look as flawless and pale as a china doll’s. Her eyes looked dark and soulful. Her brown hair was down, glossy and straight. She looked … ethereal … he pulled in a slow breath. Maybe perfection did exist, he realized.

“Ready?” she said.

He straightened. “Yes.”

Daisy rose from the sofa to follow them to the door.

After they stepped out into the hallway, Poppy turned back, mouth open, but Daisy cut her off, “I’m fine. Go have fun. And don’t worry.”

Poppy hesitated, then nodded, but she couldn’t contain one last maternal worry.

“Make sure you lock the door.”

Daisy rolled her eyes but smiled. “I will.”

Killian didn’t move once the door closed, knowing Poppy wouldn’t leave until she heard the dead bolt click into place.

It did, and he placed a hand on her arm. She started at the touch, but didn’t pull away.

“Ready to do this?” he asked

She nodded, but he had no doubt she wanted to say, “no.” Instead, she said nothing as they made their way out of the building.

Once on the sidewalk, he looked up and down the street. “Which way are we headed?”

“This way.” She pointed to the right, and they fell into step, although he noticed he had to modify his stride more than usual. For the boots, he realized, as he watched her picking her way around the cracks in the pavement. They looked great on her, but clearly they weren’t comfortable.

“So what exactly happens at a ‘ladies’ night?’” he asked, deciding maybe taking her mind off her feet might help.

She glanced at him, surprise clear in her eyes. “You’ve never been to a ladies’ night at a bar?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but I wasn’t aware of it if I was.”

“Well—” She glanced at him again, but her thought was cut short as her heel slipped in a crack and her ankle twisted. Instantly, Killian caught her, catching most of her weight before it could land on the turned ankle.

She clung to his arm, accepting his help. That was until she was able to balance herself. Then she dropped her hands from him.

“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “This is why I wear sneakers. I can’t even manage three-inch heels.”

“I couldn’t either,” he assured her. Then he offered his elbow. She stared at his proffered arm as if it were a snake ready to strike. But after a moment, she looped her arm through his.

At least his touch was better than a twisted or broken ankle. The lesser of two evils, as they say.

“So,” he said once they started walking again, her body much closer than before. He could feel her heat and smell something deliciously spicy like cinnamon on her skin, “You were going to tell me what happens at a ladies’ night.”

She didn’t answer for a moment.

“Well, I haven’t been to a bar for years,” she said. “But usually they have half-price drinks for the ladies. No cover charge for them if there’s a band. Maybe some discounts on food.”

“And that’s enough to draw in women?”

Poppy actually found herself laughing at his dry query. Which surprised her, because she was altogether too aware of him being so close. Her shoulder brushed his arm as they walked. Their arms entwined. Her fingers rested on his forearm.

“It isn’t the discounts that lures them in,” she said. “It’s the hope of meeting someone like you.”

“Me?”

“A hot, single guy looking for a real relationship,” Poppy said, then realized she’d said too much. And Killian didn’t miss it.

“So I’m hot, huh?”

Like he ever doubted it, but she was saved from having to answer. “We’re here.”

She gestured to the bar, which appeared to be relatively busy. Not packed, but then it was early yet. As she recalled from her younger days, things didn’t really get hopping at the bars until after nine or so. She dropped her arm away from his, walked into the small courtyard area where café tables and chairs were set up in the warmer months.

But before she reached the concrete steps that led up to the entrance, Killian’s hand was back, cupping her elbow.

She glanced at his hand, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just going up some steps, I should be fine.”

He smiled. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

“But aren’t you afraid we’ll be mistaken for a couple?” Then she stopped and gave him a pointed look. “Wait, you said no one would make that mistake, didn’t you?”

C
HAPTER
19

W
hy had she said that? Her comment sounded petty and jealous. Or worse yet, like some sort of challenge.

But it was out now, so all she could do was focus on why they were here. Finding him a woman. And maybe—maybe, chatting with a few men herself.

She looked around the pub, surveying the place. She’d walked by many times, but had never been inside. The atmosphere was quaint with brick walls and molded tin ceilings. A long bar made of glossy stained wood took up most of one wall. There were tables and chairs littering the rest of the room. At the far end was a spot for a band to play.

But the only music was from a CD jukebox mounted on the wall in the far corner.

And there was one thing there was no shortage of—women.

A large table surrounded by women was centered in the middle of the pub. And they had already spotted Killian, eyeing him like predators stalking their prey, hopeful and hungry.

Several leaned closer to say something, clearly about him. Then they smiled, white teeth and glossed lips glistening in the low light.

Poppy knew this was why he was here, why she was here with him, but she still found the ladies rather disturbing.

She glanced at him and found he was looking around, seemingly oblivious to the stir he was causing.

Then he touched her arm.

“Table or bar?”

Poppy blinked. He really hadn’t even noticed the pack of women licking their chops and getting ready to bring him down like a felled buck.

“Umm …” she said, noticing that the nearest empty table was dangerously close to the women.

“There are two seats right there.” She pointed to a couple of vacant stools at the end of the bar. “How about the bar?”

They would be a safe distance away from the waiting vultures.

He nodded and led her toward them. This time, he placed his hand on the small of her back, and even though she wore her jacket, she would swear she could feel the heat of his hand.

Imagination, she told herself, even as she shivered from the sensation.

“Cold?”

Not at all, but she nodded. “A little.”

Relief flooded her as she slid onto the barstool and away from his touch.

A bartender appeared.

Killian gestured for her to order first.

She was usually more of a coffee and tea drinker, but she did have the occasional wine with dinner. And tonight seemed like a good time for wine too. If she was going to have to watch scads of women vie for Killian’s attention, then she needed something to take the edge off.

“A pinot noir.”

The bartender listed a few brands.

“The first one,” Poppy said with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“And I’ll try the pale ale,” Killian said. He smiled when the bartender left. “Not a wine aficionado, huh?”

She smiled back, still feeling a little self-conscious. “Not really. I usually buy whatever wine has the prettiest or most interesting label.”

Killian chuckled, the sound rich and low. An amazing laugh.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about wine myself. I’m more of a scotch drinker.”

“Scotch—” She shuddered. “Now that I couldn’t handle at all.”

He laughed again, and Poppy was willing to bet the women at the table behind them would swoon at the sound of it. Poppy certainly felt a little light-headed.

And then there was his smile.
No!
This was exactly why she was here. So he could find someone, and she could forget how amazing his smile was.

The bartender returned with their drinks, and she took a large gulp of the wine. Not her usual way of enjoying a glass of vino, but her nerves were already frayed. And they just got here.

“So, I think you have your pick tonight,” she said, turning on her stool to face the rest of the room. He did the same.

“Mmm,” he answered, but she couldn’t tell if he was impressed with the selection or not.

Then she remembered his aversion to blondes. Well, four of the ten were out of the running right off the top. And one had light brown hair with highlights, so Poppy wasn’t sure if she’d make the cut or not.

They were all pretty, though. And well dressed. Well, one of the brunettes was wearing something that looked a little trashy and desperate in Poppy’s opinion, but maybe Killian liked that look.

Poppy slid him a glance to see which one captured his attention, but he wasn’t looking at the table. He perused the bar instead.

Maybe none of the women were to his liking, which was too bad, because they were very much liking him. A couple of them stretched their necks like turtles, trying to catch his eye.

“Excuse me.”

Poppy looked over to see that a woman had come up on the other side of Killian. A sneak attack like a gator lunging out of the water to pull down a drinking deer.

Okay, maybe her animal analogies were getting a little out of control, but Killian was causing quite the reaction and the women here were definitely on the prowl.

The woman beside Killian was pretty. Prettier than a gator, to be sure. About the same age as Poppy with long, wavy hair. Auburn, which was good. Gray-green eyes. A black wrap dress that was sexy and stylish at the same time.

Poppy suddenly felt a bit frumpy in her sweater and jeans. But at least she wasn’t wearing one of her T-shirts.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you look so familiar to me.”

She smiled to reveal perfectly white teeth. Definitely bonded. And as far as pickup lines went, well …

“Sorry,” Killian said, offering the woman a quick, impersonal smile. “I’m sure we haven’t met.”

She pursed her mauve-painted lips, thinking. “I was sure we had. Are you from around here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Poppy had to admit she was enjoying this. Killian must not be interested in this one, because he definitely wasn’t giving her the reception she wanted. Unless he didn’t realize that he could have said they’d met on the moon, and this woman would have gone along with it.

The woman tilted her head, batting her eyes. “I just know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Killian opened his mouth, and from the look on his face, Poppy suspected his next comment wasn’t going to be even as polite as his last ones. So Poppy spoke first.

“You probably recognize him from television.”

The woman’s eyes widened with dawning excitement, acknowledging Poppy for the first time.

“Television?” she said, her attention coming right back to Killian.

Killian was paying total attention to Poppy. He narrowed his eyes at her before the woman began her barrage of questions.

“What do you do on TV? Do you have your own show? Have you been in movies?”

Killian shook his head. “I’m not really—”

“He’s not really one to brag,” Poppy finished for him. “He’s got his own show about the paranormal. He’s a paranormal investigator.”

The woman raised her perfectly tweezed brows. “Really? That’s such an interesting job.”

“Isn’t it?” Poppy agreed.

Killian shot Poppy an aggravated scowl. Poppy smiled back.

Oh, Poppy was enjoying this way too much.

Killian glared at her, and her smile only widened. That cute little dimple in her left cheek appeared. Some of his irritation faded. She really was lovely. Pale skin, those dark eyes that drew him in. And that smile. That impish smile.

“Tell her about your research, Killian,” she said, her eyes sparkling like dark smoky quartz.

He narrowed a glare at her again, then turned back to the redhead beside him. Really, the woman was quite attractive. She definitely filled out her clothing perfectly with ample breasts and flared hips.

But as he looked at her, he found himself thinking about smaller breasts and subtler curves.

Damn it. He was doing it again. He could not be attracted to Poppy.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her again. She still grinned, clearly amused by his discomfort at dealing with this woman.

Well, maybe he should show her. Would she be so amused if he turned all his attention to Jessica Rabbit here?

“I am in Boston to research places where there are reputed hauntings. For a television show I’m developing.”

The redhead nodded, her grayish-green eyes wide with interest.

“That’s exciting.”