Page 6 of On the Menu

He wasn’t beguiling or attacking Cara at all. Could she actually enjoy being with a beast like him? It was clear the little human didn’t see him for what he was, but then again, most humans couldn’t see the paranormal unless it bit them (and sometimes not even then).

“Huh? Oh. Um. Well. A lot of things. How nice that was. And how happy I am that you’re here with me, shopping on a sunny November afternoon.”

“Is that it?” He didn’t mean to sound that way. Stray was just used to more, and he hadn’t courted or wooed in... Well. In ever. That’s why he ended up in his particular predicament.

Cara wasn’t to know that. She looked flustered, tugged her long brown waves back behind her ear, and became fascinated by a pile of plums.

“Is what it?”

“You looked happy. Is there anything in particular you’re happy about?” he led. Me. Say me. Say us. Say you want more kisses. More of me. Just more.

There was a sweet, hopeful look in her eyes, and her mouth opened with a smile on the edges, and then—it changed. Muted. Stray thought it looked as if someone was pulling the curtains over Cara’s eyes.

Too scared to show too much too soon.

And I think it’s already been an eternity.

Cara’s voice faltered. “Oh, there are plenty of things that make me happy. I love this season. Fall is my favorite time of year. And I got a good grade on my accounting midterm. Got the grade back, and I just thought of it.”

“Oh.” Good grades. Achievements. Autumn. Must remember those things. Must remember all the things that make her happy, that give her that wonderful scent—and tease out the lower notes I can almost taste.

What emotion was that scent connected with? Stray couldn’t tell. Something more than happy, different than lust, and just plain unfamiliar to him. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get some of that wine, then, Cara. To celebrate your brilliant mind,” he said, pointing to the rack of locally produced wine.

“Don’t be sarcastic,” she sighed.

“Hm? What about? Is the wine bad? Well, I guess I should’ve known that. I’ve never heard of New York being wine country.” Stray reluctantly put down a bottle of young red.

Cara would taste amazing drenched in that.

“No! About my mind.” She pushed the cart away angrily. “I am smart.”

He ran after her, flummoxed again. This is one reason why human souls were for snacking on and then running from. They were confusing and irritating—and so addictive. “I never said otherwise. I can tell you’re intelligent and successful.”

“My ex didn’t think so. Ex-husband, that is. He thought going back to college was a waste of time and a sign that I failed the first time.”

Can I kill these men? Stray wondered silently. Bruce. The ex. The others who made her wary.

Except that she’d be wise to be wary of me, and instead, she’s trusting me, slowly, little by little, because I keep spending innocent bits of time with her.

Picking out pumpkins. Walking in the fall leaves.

All while I’m imagining her riding my face and coming in my mouth while I make her scream.

He winced. “I really hate men sometimes,” he whispered.

Cara looked surprised, but the raspberry smell didn’t entice him this time. “Yeah? Well, sometimes I hate them, too. But women can be just as bad. There are some young girls in my classes who make me feel so old. So past my prime. I’m not! I’m young... I mean, I want to be young.”

“Darling, you are. Life isn’t measured in minutes, but in what you fill them with. And... And I really like the moments I spend with you, Cara. I have gray hairs, don’t I?”

“Yes, but you don’t look past thirty.”

“And you don’t, either.”

“Flatterer.”

“You look young and beautiful to me,” he admitted. “Like spring in a sweater, oddly enough.”

She laughed at that, and a guilty flush seeped over her cheeks. “I’m sorry I get defensive sometimes. The thing with Bruce threw me for a loop. We... We had some plans for that night, and to find out how easily he could forget about me? I felt so disposable. I feel like that with all men these days.”