Page 50 of Angels Don’t Date

He really knew how to play the part, and my heart kept thumping faster and faster through the song. It was shockingly romantic, but the weirdest thing was the way he painted me as a ‘sun-born perfect vampire,’ and himself as a shadowed fallen prince of night who needed my light to save him from the darkness that bound him. Weird. Also, he didn’t sing like an opera singer, but had this voice that sounded like summer afternoons, smooth as sunshine and relaxing as a nap on a gently rocking boat. I’d heard his duet with his sister at Libby’s wedding, and his voice hadn’t been anything like this. I felt like he was there to support me, and found myself leaning against him, holding his arm while we worked through lyrics and harmonies until I had confidence that I could deliver according to his specs.

“Lunch?” he murmured, raising his brows while I stayed leaning on him, caught up in the glow of those last sweet words about the dawn of our love rising.

Right. Lunch. Time to get back to reality. I straightened and nodded briskly. “Lunch would be good.”

“Can I make you something? Any requests?”

“I shouldn’t. You made me lunch yesterday.”

He leaned down so his forehead was against mine and he could stare into my eyes creepily. “So silly of me. It’s not like you have to eat several times a day, particularly when everyone’s bullying you into singing with them.” He bumped our noses together and straightened. “I’m thinking something with avocado and mango. Does that sound too weird?”

“Or figs and pomegranates like in the song.”

“Mm. Peaches and pomegranates, but that sounds like a cake, not a sandwich.”

“Can’t we eat cake for lunch?”

He grinned. “I do love the way you think. But no cake until the music video or it will mess up your voice. Do I have time to bake a cake between now and then? Maybe while you’re doing wardrobe. I already polished my armor.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve mentioned it a few times.”

“I’m very proud of my armor.”

“Clearly.”

He nudged me as we walked towards the kitchen. “You fixed it for me. That makes it precious. Usually after I wear armor it’s trashed, but now I have a favorite. You’ll have to teach me those restoration spells for the next time I try to take down a mountain troll man to man.”

I elbowed him. “I’ll fix it. You shouldn’t have to do those kinds of spells when you’re injured. You’ll mess them up and end up with it fused to your body.”

“Perfect. You restore my armor and I’ll make you lunch. Not a fair trade, but you already agreed, so you’re stuck.”

I giggled, beaming up at him happily. “You’re an idiot.”

“You love it.”

“Probably, but I’m genetically predisposed to insanity.”

“And I work to achieve levels of insanity that others envy.”

“Levels of insanity in the people around you, yes, I know. Good thing you’re so adorable.”

He grinned broadly. “Yep. It’s my adorableness that keeps me alive. Seriously, mango and avocado. You don’t have to eat it, but it’s stuck in my head.”

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

He studied me for a long moment before he smiled and squeezed my hand back. “Maybe so. I hope so. At least acceptable to my princess.”

Chapter

Seventeen

Mango and avocado sounds weird, but the way he did it, making the mangoes into some kind of spicy sweet dressing he swirled over the sandwich contents and then put the whole thing together with the amazing sourdough bread was absolute art.

We ate sandwiches at the table in comfortable silence.

Mirabel came in like a whirling dervish and bouncing curls, dragging an angel who looked like she was experiencing her worst nightmare come to life. “You asked Hope to come and play the triangle? What new sadism is this?”

Richard wiped his mouth on a napkin and stood. “Nothing new about it. Hope’s a super talented triangle player. She has a delicacy with percussions most angels lack. This song is a delicacy of deliciousness.”