Truth or Demon

CHAPTER 7

“Do you like it?” Poppy watched with a slight grin as Killian dug into a huge cinnamon bun coated in extra frosting.

He took a bite, then closed his eyes, his handsome face the picture of unadulterated ecstasy. He moaned low in his throat, and Poppy tried to ignore the fact that his reaction caused little flips in her belly.

So he was quite amazingly beautiful. Good for him. He wouldn’t be her type, even if she was looking for someone.

Even if she could get him, a part of her added, although she’d ignored that point until she noticed a tall blonde in designer jeans, a cute trendy top and killer high-heel boots staring at Killian as she passed, stalking him like a hungry, lithe cat. She even slowed her pace, clearly hoping he’d spot her. That was more his type.

But Killian was too wrapped up in his love affair with his dessert. Poppy picked at the remains of her falafel pita pocket, irritated she suddenly felt as awkward as the nerdy kid at the big school dance. Invisible to all the beautiful people.

“This is amazing,” he said, regarding the dessert with an almost reverent expression.

Again Poppy’s stomach fluttered. Could she even imagine him looking at her like that?

Good golly, she was comparing herself to a cinnamon bun. She glanced over to see the gorgeous blonde had taken a seat at a table just a few feet away from them, angled in just such a way that Killian couldn’t miss her once he looked up.

Poppy made a face at herself, even as she ran a hand through her hair, annoyed that she felt self-conscious again. If she couldn’t compete with a cinnamon roll, she sure as heck couldn’t compete with a stunning Amazon blonde.

Not that she wanted to compete, of course. Just random thoughts, she assured herself. But before she even realized what she planned to say, the words were out of her mouth.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He didn’t speak, his mouth full of pastry, nor did he look surprised by her sudden question, but he did shake his head.

Something that felt an awful lot like relief washed through her, but it didn’t last, as her mind moved right to another thought: Maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend, but rather a wife, although he didn’t wear a ring.

Not that she’d been looking.

“No, no one,” he said once he’d finished eating.

The strange relieved feeling returned. She ignored it.

“Not the type to settle down, huh?”

He immediately shook his head, which didn’t surprise her. She suspected an amazingly good-looking man like him wouldn’t want to limit his choices too soon.

A feeling an awful lot like disgust, which she embraced, helped push away that other, more disturbing relieved feeling.

“Actually I do want to settle down,” he added. “You know, soon. Really soon.”

Poppy blinked. Huh?

“But you don’t have a girlfriend? Don’t you kind of need one of those to settle down? Especially soon?”

“Yes, I do. That’s one of the things I hope to do here, actually.”

Again she couldn’t hide her baffled look. “You plan to settle down? Here?”

“Umm, yeah.”

Damn. He’d really just said all that? Settle down. Here. Soon. All of that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Damn.

No, he told himself, this was a good plan. He’d convince her to go out and do the singles thing with him. Because he wanted to find a …

“Yeah, I’m looking for a wife.”

Poppy stared at him like he’d lost his mind. He kind of wondered if he had too. But he was willing to go with any plan that might get her a true love and him back to Hell. Even pretending he wanted to get married.

“I’ve wanted to get married for a while now,” he said with a nod of his head, trying to sound prosaic about it. “It’s always been a dream of mine.”

Did he really just say that?

“Really?” Clearly Poppy didn’t believe it either.

But he mustered his most sincere look—this would all be so much easier if I could just control her thoughts—and he forced a smile, the gesture tinged with melancholy. He hoped.

“It’s been something I’ve wanted since childhood. That special someone to share my life with, to raise a family with, to have as a best friend and lover. Forever.”

He fought the urge to wince. Had he poured it on too thick? From the dazed look on Poppy’s pixie face, he had. Oh well, it was out there. He was going to have to run with it.

“So what do you think? Do you think you could help me?”

She gaped at him as if he’d asked her if she’d be willing to give him a kidney. He tried not to be offended by her aghast expression. Did she really find his request so impossible a task? He was a good-looking guy, and he’d never had problems getting human women before. Her incredulity bothered him, more than he would have liked.

“I don’t think you need my help,” she finally said.

“Why not?”

“Look over there.” She jerked her head slightly to the left. He did, only to discover a blond woman seated a row away, watching him. She smiled as soon as he met her eyes. A wide, inviting smile. A smile that all but asked him to come join her.

He forced a polite smile back, then returned his gaze to Poppy.

“I don’t want her. I don’t like blondes,” he said, saying the first thing that came into his mind.

Poppy gave him another look of disbelief. “Well, I’m sure any number of brunettes or redheads would fall over themselves for your attention.” She stood then. “I really should get home. I do have some work I need to get done.”

She started walking away before he could even get to his feet. He gave a longing look at his half-eaten cinnamon bun, but left it behind.

As he passed the blonde, she smiled at him again; this time her look was filled with sympathy. She’d obviously seen Poppy’s abrupt departure.

“Problems?”

He nodded automatically. So many problems.

“Well, call me if you need a sympathetic ear.” The blonde had a business card out and pressed in his hand with the speed of a Vegas magician.

The woman’s forwardness oddly disgusted him. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t bother to respond; instead he hurried his steps to catch up with Poppy, confused by her reaction and by his own.

The subway ride back to Poppy’s apartment building was as silent as their first trip. Killian attempted conversation a couple of times, but Poppy was lost in her own thoughts and unwilling to do much more than give him a one-word response. Eventually he just gave up, getting lost in his own thoughts.

He still wasn’t quite sure what had triggered this coolness in Poppy. They’d actually had a nice lunch, but once again, he’d said something that ended up pushing her away.

As before, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said that had been so offensive. Relating to people was hard work.

“I hope you found some places to research today,” she said as the old elevator shimmied and shook, taking them up to her floor.

“I did.” He struggled to find something to say that would possibly smooth things over between them. But nothing came to mind. Damn, he wanted his powers back.

She nodded as if she didn’t know what else to say either. The metal doors shuddered open and she stepped out.

“Have a good afternoon,” she said with an aloof nod, and before he could think of what else to say, the elevator doors closed again, leaving him staring at his own bleary reflection in the scratched metal.

He remained that way until the elevator jerked to a stop again and the doors parted. Automatically, he stepped out, then stood there, trying to decide what to do next.

Was this even the right floor for the awful apartment he was staying in? He couldn’t remember. He looked left, then right, and was trying to decide what to do when he heard voices coming towards him.

Seconds later, three familiar faces appeared.

“What are you doing back?” Daisy asked, surprise and then dismay flashing in dark eyes so very much like her older sister’s. He’d seen both these emotions from Poppy too.

“Were you mean?” Daisy asked.

“No,” he said, not quite keeping the defensiveness out of his tone. Apparently, he had been, although he didn’t know how. “Your sister just wanted to come home to work.”

Daisy gave him an unconvinced look. “If she had been having fun, she wouldn’t have been thinking of work.”

Killian supposed he couldn’t argue with that.

“She’s not that easy to befriend,” he admitted.

“I told you that.”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “So what’s the next move in this master plan of yours?”

Daisy looked at her friends. Madison shrugged with her usual boredom. Emma looked pained—a common look for her too.

“What did you say to her right before she decided she wanted to come home?” Madison asked, revealing that her lack of interest was feigned.

“I told her I was hoping to settle down.”

All three girls looked at him as if he was mad.

“And I asked her if she’d help me meet women,” he added by way of clarification.

“You do remember that you’re supposed to be finding my sister true love? Not yourself,” Daisy said.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m well aware of that. I told her that so she’d go with me to meet people. I mean how else am I going to find this man for her?”

“It’s not a bad plan, really,” Emma said, then glanced at her friends to see if they’d reprimand her for agreeing with him.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Daisy said. “But what ticked her off?”

Killian relayed the story of their lunch and how well things were going until the moment when Poppy pointed out the blonde, who’d been watching them.

“And I simply said I didn’t want that woman, because she was blond.”

All three girls stared at him, speechless for several seconds. Only Emma showed any emotion as she touched her fingers to her hair, clearly feeling a little self-conscious about her own blond curls.

“Wow,” Madison finally said, shaking her head.

Killian frowned, still not sure why his comment was so awful.

“That is pretty bad,” Daisy agreed.

He shook his head, waiting for them to explain.

“You kind of sound like a jerk,” Madison said.

“And super shallow,” Daisy added.

“That’s rude,” Emma said, her voice barely above a whisper, still watching him with large, wary eyes.

“Why?” he asked.

They gaped at him like he was an utter moron. He was starting to think maybe he was.

“Because now Poppy thinks you would not date a whole group of women solely based on their hair color. That doesn’t make you very likeable,” Daisy said.

“Why would she care? She’s not blond.” He still couldn’t see why it should matter to her.

“Like Daisy said, shallow, dude,” Madison said.

Killian considered that. He supposed it did make him seem a little shallow. Poppy definitely didn’t seem like the type of woman to respect someone who was so superficial. Not that he needed her respect. That didn’t matter. At all. The only reason her reaction was bothering him was because he needed her to like him enough to hang out with him.

That was the sole reason he was concerned with her irritation.

“Okay, so how do I fix it?” he asked.

“You don’t,” Daisy said, moving to punch the down button for the elevator. “You go back to Mrs. Maloney’s apartment and let us fix this.”

The elevator opened and the girls piled in, while Killian just stood there, wondering yet again how he’d ended up in this ridiculous situation.

“Wait,” he called just as the doors started to slide shut, “where is Mrs. Maloney’s apartment?”

Daisy’s answer was nothing more than muffled noise.

He looked around him again, pretty much back to the same predicament he’d been in before the girls appeared. He surveyed his surroundings again, hoping to recall something familiar.

Nothing.

Sighing, he plunked down into one of the worn, waiting-room-style chairs in the hallway across from the elevator.

“Great.”