"Fine," he sighed. "You made a well-informed guess, which turned out to be incorrect, but I happened to benefit because while I do not date, it was the best date I've had in a long time."
She raised an eyebrow as she sipped her green tea. "It was ten minutes long."
"Ten minutes is all I need," he said with a smirk.
Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. "When you said you don't date, did you mean women don't date you? Because I'm beginning to see why."
"Ah, that sly wit is coming out again," his dimple was prominent and his blue eyes were shining. "But you should be nice to me because I decided to help you."
"With what?"
"Dating."
She laughed. "You're going to help me with dating and your idea of a perfect date is speed dating?"
He ignored her. "I have a buddy on the force, nice and attractive enough to have women give him their number on a regular basis. He wants someone smart and interesting." He shrugged a large shoulder. This was the first time she had seen him standing and he was six feet tall, wearing cargo joggers and a white shirt with a thin black bomber jacket.
"Guys talk about that? What they're looking for in a woman?"
"I mean, not off-handedly. But when you're stuck in a patrol car for twelve hours together the topics can get wild. I even learned the guy prefers blueberry pop-tarts."
She nodded and made a face. "That is wild. No one likes blueberry pop-tarts. Are you sure he's not a psychopath? Does the SPD even do a psychological exam?"
"Well, not officially, but we make them take a personality test on a computer that uses dial-up from the nineties so," he lifted both large hands in the air, "same thing."
She laughed, a small thrill going through her.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd had conversation this easy and fun with a man.
"Why are you trying to set me up? Because the other day honestly was the splash of cold water I needed. I don't think I want to date."
"Because of our kerfuffle?"
"Kerfuffle? And you're accusingmeof being from the fifties?"
A look crossed his handsome face. "Come on. Bad luck picking the one man who can't date."
"You went from don't date to can't date. Those are vastly different. Are there different laws here about dating?" She leaned forward again and lowered her voice. "Are you a three-hundred-year-old vampire who doesn't want to get an innocent thirty-something mixed up with your ways?"
He leaned forward playing along. "Yes," he whispered. "But I'm actually six hundred and dating anyone under one hundredis against our vampire laws. Which you can imagine would be difficult."
She nodded. "Fair."
He slapped the counter with a large hand. "The point is, I found you charming and when I realized who you were, figured I should stay on the good side of the Lost Souls Coven."
Her eyebrows danced and she smiled. "Ohmygod, that's what we're called? How delightful," she said with a brightness in her eyes. "But still not sure I want to date. I appreciate the offer, though."
"Alright," he said easily. "I make a great wingman if you change your mind. Just because I can't date, doesn't mean I don't like seeing love birds find their mates."
She pointed a finger at him. "One day you're going to tell me why you can't date. But, I cannot imagine that a police officer a good wingman makes. And a vampire at that."
"What criminal would try to date you if a law enforcer is your wingman?" He held up one finger. "We come off as a very serious bunch most of the time so no one who is going to waste your time is going to get through." He ticked off a second finger then held up a third and finished with, "And if any of them do step out of line, I can arrest them."
"Or suck their blood. Would that turn them into a vampire? And can you see yourself in the mirror?"
He tilted his head. "You know, I'm becoming concerned you think vampires are real."
"Says the man trying to stay on the good side of our coven," she rebutted.
