Drop Dead Single (Monstrana Paranormal Romance 1)

He stared at her, puzzled. She hadn’t seemed very excited about staying in the competition last night. When he’d called her name, she hadn’t even bothered to take her lily. He’d spent half of last night convincing himself that she didn’t like him. It’d left him with a sour taste this morning, only cured by a hefty fencing workout with Leo.

“Don’t worry.” She stuck her hand into the basket and pulled out a corked bottle. “I remembered the blood.”

“I had your old bike pulled out of storage,” Stasia said, jumping next to him. “What a great way to see the country.” She smiled, an evil glint in her eyes. “Very cozy.”

“And what about you?” he pointed at the camera next to her. “Do you intend on crashing this impromptu date?”

“Oh, no.” She waved her hands in front of her. “This one’s just for you guys. Enjoy. And when you get back, don’t forget to find me and fill me in on all of the details.”

He sighed. It looked like his day off to catch up on work wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re okay with this, right?” Cate bit her bottom lip and looked up at him with those big eyes of hers.

Something inside of him burst, like a heart attack. He had to reach out to the bike for support. “Of course. We’d better get a move on, though. There’s rain in the forecast.”

She shielded her face and gazed up at the clear blue sky. He couldn’t help but notice how the color matched her eyes. “Yeah, right. If it rains today, then I’ll do a tap dance wearing this basket on my head.”

He snorted at the image and tucked her promise away in the back of his head. She’d be eating her words soon enough.

His old bike started up with a rumble and a purr. He loved the feeling of the handlebars under his palms once again. It’d been too long since he’d gone out riding. He’d thrown so much of his time and energy lately into helping his grandfather run the kingdom that he’d forgotten some of his favorite ways to unwind. A day in the meadows behind the castle didn’t sound so bad. He could get on top of this idea.

Cate tied the picnic basket to the back of the bike and then slipped in behind him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her chest pressed against his back, making him momentarily forget how to breathe. Coming back to his senses, he kicked the bike into gear and drew rocks as they zoomed off for the overgrown path he knew by heart.

The Monstrana castle stood tall and proud, a gray stone monument to his grandfather’s achievements. It sat just outside the city, with hundreds of acres of private land that spanned as far as the eye could see. He shifted gears and sped faster through the expansive meadows and over a shallow creek with clear running water. As he drove, he could feel Cate shifting behind him, turning her head to take in the views. His heart expanded with pride. He loved this place better than anywhere in the world. And he’d had plenty of time to travel the world in his life.

Finally, he rolled to a stop near a tall cliff that overlooked the gray Bering Sea. Putting his foot on the ground, he waited for Cate to hop off. As soon as she released him, he felt an immediate sense of loss. He missed the warmth of her soft body against his, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in her surroundings.

“This is perfect,” she said, looking around. “Let’s have our picnic here.”

The wind from their ride had mussed up her ponytail, throwing wisps of hair in her face. Before he could stop himself, he reached out to tuck a strand behind her ear, his fingertips brushing her cheek. Her eyes grew wide and her lips parted as she scanned his face. His thumb lingered on her jawline, the soft feel of her skin making it impossible to drop his hand. A pink blush crept up her neck and she pulled away, making him curse himself for acting so foolishly.

The woman had some kind of magical hold over him. He’d never acted so rashly or without consideration. He needed to rein it in.

“I got Stasia to stash some of her sister’s treats in here,” Cate said, as if nothing had passed between them. She went to grab the picnic basket and started to unload it on the ground. “I swear, if I’m here too much longer, I’m going to need a whole new wardrobe. Her sweets are to die for. And I brought you some Bloody Mary mix, because I know that’s your favorite.”

He sat down beside her on the red flannel blanket she laid out. The basket seemed to be bottomless; she kept pulling more items and setting them out before him. When she was finally done, they had a smorgasbord of cheeses, pastries, and fruit to keep them for a month.

“Some for me,” she said, pouring the blood into a glass. Grabbing a second, she poured some more and handed it to him. “And some for my Viky.”

The glass burst in his hands, spraying blood everywhere. He looked at it in shock, his head fuzzy with anger and confusion. He’d specifically told her never to call him by that name. In fact, he’d rather her feed him glass shards than ever say that name again.

“Oh, my!” She looked at his hands in alarm and grabbed a napkin from the basket. “You’ve cut yourself.”

She began to mop up the blood, starting on his arm and moving down to his palms. He sat there with his hands open in his lap, unsure what to do. As she dabbed at the quickly healing cuts on his fingers, she leaned into him. He could smell the shampoo she’d used that morning. Something spicy with a hint of jasmine. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes, allowing the scent to fill his nostrils, the offense already forgotten.

“You know, when we’re married, we can have picnics like this all the time,” she said, making his eyes snap back open. “I’m sure our kids will want to go on bike rides, too.”

He growled. “Vampires can’t have kids.”

The entire undead thing kind of made that impossible.

“There’s always adoption, silly.” She batted him on the shoulder. “I’m picturing five, maybe six kids. But there’s always time to add more. I just love babies.”

A sudden headache overcame him. Why were they even talking about this?

“I suppose...” He watched her carefully for sudden changes in mood. She was turning out to be more unhinged than he’d imagined. “We’ll have to see.”

“But of course, there’s the wedding to plan first.” She settled onto the blanket next to him, their sides touching. Wrapping her arm through his, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you mind if we fly the Russian Ballet out here? I’ve always dreamed of an elegant wedding. One with trumpeters and swans. And maybe even a fireworks show over a lake. What do you think? Is next month too soon?”