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And when Darcy materializes before me a beat later, I’m happy to see him.
“Ready to flirt like you’ve never flirted before?” he asks, a smile stretching across his face as his gaze locks on mine. “You look like you’ve got something up your sleeve.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Just in a good mood. And excited about kicking your ass at every game on that lawn.”
His eyes narrow even as his smile widens. “I’d like to see you try. I happen to be the reining cornhole champion ten years running.”
“And I happen to find the word cornhole both gross and amusing.”
He crosses his arms over his chest with a nod. “Understandable. From what I’ve been able to discern so far, you seem to have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy.”
I allow my smile to go syrupy sweet as I bat my lashes up at his stupidly handsome face. “Well, at least I have a sense of humor.”
His laugh is a deep rumble that makes me want to curl up in his lap and snag another one of those strong and sexy hugs of his. Instead, I nudge him with my elbow and nod toward the games, “Should we dive in? I told Annie to text me when she and Colin are on their way out, so we’ll know when to start turning up the heat.”
“And what if I don’t want to wait?” he asks, his fingers nipping at my waist above my jeans. “Your ass is even more delicious-looking than usual tonight. And this sweater…”
Ignoring the heat creeping up my neck, I ask, “You like?”
“It might turn me into a boob man,” he whispers, making me giggle like an idiot.
No, not like an idiot. Like a woman who’s falling for the cute guy next door. Except the cute guy isn’t a guy, he’s an ancient, moody vampire, and this is all pretend. It would be one thing if that giggle were fake, but it wasn’t. It was real. As real as the way my nervous system lights up like the Vegas strip as Darcy parks his big, warm hand at the small of my back again and guides me down the steps toward the party in progress.
“Your hand is warm because you just sucked someone’s blood, I’m guessing?” I ask, doing my best to remind myself what he is and what he does. We don’t even occupy the same place on the food chain, let alone have enough in common for me to start having real feelings for this man.
“The vampire bar is serving hot toddies and mulled blood wine tonight,” he says mildly. “And there are less crass ways to refer to feeding from a live donor, little goblin. Let me know if you’d like to learn them.”
“Nah, we goblins are crass. It’s kind of our thing.”
He chuckles and lets out a long breath, shaking his head as if at some private amusement.
“What?” I ask. “I want in on the joke.”
He shakes his head again, more emphatically this time. “No. Never. I refuse to give you more ammunition against me. You’re diabolical enough as it is.”
“Thanks,” I say, weirdly touched. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I fight the crazy urge to reach out and twine my fingers through his. If there’s anything I hate more than hugging, it’s holding hands. It’s so adolescent and cheesy.
Or so I’ve always thought…
But now, as Darcy stops in front of an empty cornhole board with a pile of beanbags beside it, I wish I could give his hand a squeeze before I tell him that I’m going to crush all his cornhole championship dreams.
Instead, I tap his shoe with mine and warn, “Cornhole was basically our only form of entertainment as children. Aside from climbing trees and pretending to be warrior fairies and occasionally setting my youngest sister on fire.”
His brows shoot up.
“Not on purpose,” I assure him. “Felicity is just naturally flammable. We always put her out in time but most of her clothes had singe marks on them growing up.”
“Thank goodness she’s not your twin,” he says, “or I’d be even more worried about Colin. Fire is one of the few things that can kill a vampire.”
I frown, some of the joy going out of the night as I ask, “You’re worried about Colin?”
“Of course,” he says. “We’ve discussed this.”
“No, we discussed that we were worried about our siblings because we didn’t want them to be pressured into a marriage that isn’t right for them. You never said anything about being afraid that Annie might…” I trail off with a flustered shrug. “I honestly have no idea what you’re thinking. Annie is as sweet and harmless as they come. Colin’s the one with pointy teeth and a grouchy problem.”
“Colin isn’t grouchy; he’s reserved,” he says, bending to collect three of the bean bags. “Would you like to go first? So as not to be intimidated by my excellence?”
