Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,28
up to the table.
Sassy handed him a paper napkin from the decorative holder and took a tentative bite of the noodles.
“Not bad,” she said. “I’ve never had Hamburger Helper.”
Evan was coating his food with black pepper. He paused, shaker in midair, to stare at her in disbelief. “Never had Hamburger Helper? I live on this shit. That and ramen noodles and instant mac.”
“My mother won’t allow processed food in the house.” Mama would also refuse to dine with a shirtless man, but that was another kettle of fish. Sassy speared some noodles with her fork. “Uncle Gaudy would turn in his apron if he could see me now.”
“Uncle Gaudy?”
“Gaudet Rochat, our chef.”
“You got your own chef? How rich are you, Lollipop?”
“Rich enough.” Sassy showed him her dimples. “‘A Jerkins gherkin has more zest.’ ”
“You’re Jerkins Pickles?”
“No, my mother is. Her grandfather started the business.”
Evan gave a low whistle. “You’re a frigging heiress. Marry me. I promise to help you spend your money.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir, for the offer.” Sassy batted her eyelashes at him. “But I’m already engaged.”
“Damn. What’s his name again? I can’t remember.”
“Wesley Bodiford.”
“Wesley?” Evan made a face. “Sounds like a numb nuts.”
Sassy set her fork down with clank. “He is not a . . . a . . . what you said. Wesley’s from a very good family.”
“You marrying him or his family?”
“Both.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course.”
Grim lifted his head, his eyes chips of topaz ice. “Enough. There will be no further discussion of this Wesley.”
“You weren’t discussing him. Sassy and I were.”
“Nevertheless, this talk will cease.”
“What’s the matter, Big ’Un, you jealous?”
“My name is Grim.”
“Whatever.” Evan winked at Sassy. “Notice he didn’t answer my question.”
Sassy finished her meal and stifled a yawn. The day was catching up with her. She wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head, and sleep for a hundred years. When she woke, she’d be home. This would be a dream. Parts of it a really nice dream, but a dream all the same.
Evan wadded up his napkin and threw it on his plate. “Who wants ice cream?”
Sugar. Sassy straightened in her chair, weariness forgotten. “I’d love some.”
“Chocolate syrup?” Evan asked.
Sassy’s mouth watered. “Oh, yes, please.”
“Big ’Un?”
“My name is not—”
“You want the damn ice cream or not?”
“To my knowledge, I have never ingested the substance.”
“Never eaten—” Evan shook his head. “You people.”
Evan scooped ice cream into three bowls and drizzled chocolate on each serving.
He set a bowl in front of Grim and handed him a spoon. “Knock yourself out.”
Grim seemed momentarily nonplussed by this remark, but quickly recovered. Digging his spoon into the pale frozen mound, he took a large bite.
His brows shot up in surprise. “It is cold.”
“No shit,” Evan said. “Thus the name.”
“An appropriate appellation.” Picking up the Hershey’s bottle, Grim squirted more syrup into his bowl. “This chocolate is something quite out of the ordinary.”
“Food for the gods,” Sassy agreed, diving into her dessert.
The sugar rushed from her stomach and into her bloodstream with the one-two punch of a powerful narcotic, enveloping her in a woozy haze of feel-good. Grim was humming. Emptying his bowl, he picked up the Hershey’s container and drained the remaining contents into his mouth.
Sassy collapsed in a fit of giggles. “Grim really likes chocolate.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Evan asked, giving her a sharp look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were high.”
“Me?” Sassy widened her eyes at him. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Uh-huh. How many fingers am I holding up?”
Sassy squinted. “Four.”
“Bonk,” Evan said. “Wrong answer.”
Grim burst into song. His deep, throbbing baritone shot through Sassy, leaving her warm and tingly.
“Oh, my,” she said.
Evan stared at Grim. “What the hell?”
“He’s singing.” Sassy sighed. “It makes me think about sex. And not with Wes.”
“Good God,” Evan said.
There was a rap at the window.
“Look,” Sassy cried, leaping to her feet.
A parliament of owls lined the sills, their beaks pressed against panes. Behind the birds, a wide-eyed menagerie of wild animals stared at them through the glass.
Sassy danced around the kitchen, too excited to sit still. The hem of Trey’s robe swirled around her ankles.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” she said. “Like a Disney movie.”
“Adorable.” Evan made a grab for her and missed. “Sit down, Sassy, before you break yourself.”
“Every party has a pooper, that’s why we invited you,” Sassy sang, twirling faster. “Party pooper. Party pooper.”
The temperature plummeted and a black-haired man materialized in the room. Sassy froze in mid-spin, her sugar high evaporating faster than a slushie