Page 4

Nico

D id he really need tacos?

Nico glared at the line leading up to the hostess stand.

The rich scent of onions and peppers frying teased his nose.

He sighed. Ten minutes in line wouldn’t kill him.

Besides, he’d already called in his order and paid for it over the phone, he wasn’t about to leave the restaurant poorer and taco-less.

Dragging his phone from his pocket, the demon pulled up an image of the bane of his existence.

For two months he had worked on the complicated design and the client had waited until the day before his appointment to email changes.

And of course, he was the first of Nico’s morning appointments.

Because past-Nico was a dick who had thought dealing with the nitpicking moron would be ideal before his morning coffee had kicked in.

Nope. He was going to be working at the studio late into the night to pull it off—and relying on dripping birria tacos to fuel him through the painstaking process.

Nico’s mouth watered as a waiter passed by with a sizzling tray of fajitas. Stomach growling, he glared at the glacial line in front of him. At this rate, he could have bought a cow, raised it, and gone to therapy for the guilt of butchering the beast to make his own tacos.

The line ahead of him moved forward, but the two women directly in front of him stood in place and chattered loudly. Seriously? Nico leaned around them to look at the moving line. Maybe he could just go around them?

No, he didn’t want to be that guy. It was bad enough when humans saw his cherry-red skin and sharp, black horns looming over them and blanched. He didn’t need to add “line cutter” to his list of imagined crimes.

A little nudge wouldn’t be totally out of the question though…

He eyed the sharp “Can I speak to your manager?” haircuts on the women in front of him and winced. Then again, maybe not.

“Oi! The line is moving!” a hero called from behind him.

The women in front of him threw a glare toward the end of the line before shuffling forward. Thank Gaia. He was pretty sure his stomach was beginning to cannibalize itself.

Nico glanced around the restaurant for a distraction. Anything to take his mind off his howling stomach. A head of red curls caught his eye from a booth in the corner. Squinting, he studied the curvy woman. Yellow, floral sundress. Strawberry red curls piled on top of her head.

Something about her picked at his brain. If she would just turn her head so Nico could see her face…

She leaned away from the grinning minotaur beside her and visibly cringed. The hairy beast scooted closer to her. Her head turned away. Rosy cheeks framed a freckled nose and round glasses. Plump lips thinned into a frown.

Nico knew her all right. He’d seen the curvy little human at his friend Drake’s house more than once.

Only a couple days ago, he’d seen her flopped on a mountain of pillows on Drake’s living room floor as she gossiped with her girlfriends.

The thoughts had fallen right out of his head when he looked at her.

No one’s ass should look that good in ratty, old sweatpants.

He’d never managed to catch the woman’s name, but he had found his eyes drifting to her—and her curvy ass—more often than not. And right now, his eyes were trying to glare a hole through the hand of the minotaur pawing at her.

“Can I help you?” a voice interrupted Nico’s dark thoughts.

He turned, blinking at the hostess. Right, he was there for tacos, not to be a shining white knight for a human he’d never spoken a word to.

“Picking up an order. It should be under the name Nico.”

She fluttered away to find his tacos and he watched the redhead from the corner of his eye. She fidgeted in her seat, inching further and further away from the minotaur as the minutes passed. Even from all the way across the room, Nico could see how uncomfortable she was.

The demon shook his head. He did not have time to get in a fist fight with a minotaur today. He had work to finish and a full schedule that wouldn’t allow for broken knuckles.

The smiling hostess reappeared with his order. Taking it in his claws, he turned toward the door and stopped. Nope. He couldn’t do it. His demoness mother had raised him better than that.

Nico tucked the bag of tacos under his arm and strode across the room. Did he have a plan? No, not even remotely. Was he going to throw his precious birria tacos in the face of an eight-foot beast and run? Possibly.

“Hey, you,” he said, stopping next to their booth. Nico tried not to wince. This would be a lot more convincing if he actually knew her name. “Long time no see.”

“Nico!” A flash of relief passed over her face. “It’s so good to see you!”

Not as good as it was to hear his name passing over her lips. Warmth curled under his skin. Her bright smile turned in his direction and a bucket of heat dumped over his head and seeped through his body.

How did she even know his name? Had she asked Drake for it? He definitely could have told her… or not. Drake was a cat after all.

Jumping free of the booth, she threw her arms around him. Nico hugged her back with his free arm and definitely didn’t stop to think about the soft curves pressing against his body. If he had to slug it out with a minotaur, he wasn’t going to do it with a boner in tow.

The demon eyed the beast over her shoulder. The minotaur glowering at him had to be head and shoulders taller than him—and he was no slouch. The hairy fucker had definitely been eating his Wheaties.

“Help! This is the date from hell!” the sweet human hissed in his ear. She stepped back, her hand lingering on his arm.

Shit, this was the part where he needed to say something…

“It’s perfect that I ran into you, I have that…uh, thing… you wanted,” Nico awkwardly stumbled over his words and silently kicked himself. Very smooth, idiot. “It’s in my car if you want to grab it really quick.”

“That would be great, actually.” She pulled away from him to grab her purse and smile at her date. “I’ll be right back. I just need to put the artwork in my car.”

Artwork. That was good. She was much better at this than he was.

A furry hand snapped out and grabbed her arm. She stumbled in place and fell back a step.

“No—“

“Take your hand off her,” Nico growled.

The furry mountain glared at him. Yeah, he was definitely getting punched.

Calmly placing his bag of food on the table, Nico leaned forward and locked eyes with the monster.

“I won’t ask again.”

The demon sank every ounce of threat he could muster into his rough growl. If his fingers didn’t leave her flesh in the next three seconds, the oversized cow was going to lose his hand.

Nico flexed his claws. He wasn’t usually the type to throw the first punch, but he would happily make an exception to knock the bully out… assuming he could reach the towering beast’s ugly mug.

“I’m just running out to my car,” the curvy human promised. Her small hand patted the thick fingers curled around her wrist. “I’ll be right back.”

The minotaur shot him one more glower before the hand dropped away. Grabbing his tacos, Nico put his hand on her lower back and nudged her toward the exit before the creep could change his mind.

They walked in silence. He shortened his stride to match hers. Not that he was in a rush or anything to not get murdered by a giant minotaur, but did the short human have to walk so slowly?

Nico’s hand stayed firmly in place on her lower back. If he had to pick her up and sling her over his shoulder, he would need to move fast. Actually, he might prefer to have her draped over his shoulder. Too bad it would freak out all the humans sipping their margaritas.

They slipped out the door and she exhaled, the tension in her shoulders melting. Nico pulled his hand away. As much as he enjoyed it right where it was, he was all too aware of how close her luscious ass was to his palm.

“What a fucking prick,” she groaned in the evening air.

Him? Nico’s heart dropped… Oh. The minotaur. Duh.

“That bad?”

She turned to give him her full attention for the first time. Her cheerful face was flat and her growl could give his own a run for its money.

“He tried to grab my ass twice and told me my ‘fat haunches’ jiggled before we’d even ordered drinks.”

Nico winced. And he thought he was bad at dating.

Eyes drifting down of their own accord, he studied the thighs in question. They were pretty much perfect as far as he was concerned. Thick, soft, ideal for grabbing a handful… not that he’d be grabbing anything.

The demon swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“There’s nothing wrong with your, uh, haunches,” he managed to grind out.

Her soft eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “The next person to call my thighs ‘haunches’ is getting stabbed with a nail file.”

“Right, sorry.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Could he be any worse at this?

Yes, he could be the handsy minotaur whose dates had to make a run for it. Suddenly, Nico didn’t feel quite so inept.

“No,” she sighed. “I’m sorry. That whole date just made me crabby.”

With a small frown, she reached up and dragged the clip in her hair free and tossed it into her bag. She rubbed her fingertips over her scalp. Nico’s bit his tongue. His eyes followed the bounce of her shiny curls as they spread around her face like a cloud.

“There, that’s better.” The beautiful human smiled, some of the tension bleeding away from her round face. “That was digging into my head for the last twenty minutes.”

“Hairclips,” Nico agreed gravely.

Hairclips? His brain really was short circuiting in her presence. He’d never had a damn hairclip on his head in his life. First thing tomorrow, he was booking an appointment with a neurologist… and maybe an exorcist.

“Anyway,” she hefted her purse higher up her shoulder. “Thank you for the assist.”

“It was good seeing you again,” he said in a rush. His cheeks started to burn. “Actually talking to you this time, I mean. It’s really nice.”

“You know, I could buy you dinner if you want?” she offered. Her lips curled into a wry smile. “I mean, it’s the least I can do after you saved me from that shitshow of a date. Then we could keep talking.”

Fucking tacos. Nico suddenly wished he had ditched the order altogether.

“I can’t. I was grabbing food before I head back to work.”

Awkwardly holding up his bag, he silently cursed himself. Why did he have to be so responsible? If he had told his fussy client to kick rocks like he’d wanted to, he could be having dinner with a beautiful little human instead.

Nico clenched his hands to stop himself from hurling the bag of tacos across the shadowy parking lot.

Her face fell. Freckled arms hugged her purse to her stomach. She glanced past him, looking for her car and a quick escape.

Oh fuck. His stomach dropped. Did she think he was blowing her off?

“I have to finish a design for a client. He’s a real pain in the ass, keeps nitpicking the design right up until the last minute,” Nico explained quickly. “If he weren’t my first appointment tomorrow, I’d happily take you up on it.”

Her red brows wrinkled into a small frown.

“What is it exactly that you do? Nicole said something about art but she didn’t have any details.”

A smug feeling took root in his chest. So, she had asked about him. It was all he could do not to flash a fanged grin and fist pump in triumph.

“I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Oh!” Her warm brown gaze dropped from his face to eye the tattoos on his bare arms. Covered from his fingertips to his shoulders and beyond, there wasn’t a whole lot of uncovered flesh left above the waist. “That makes sense.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Nico glanced at her bare arms and legs but didn’t notice any ink.

“Just one.” A red flush bloomed in her cheeks. “But that’s more of a second or third date show and tell.”

He stared at her short sundress, curiosity gnawing at him. There were only so many places the bright, flowered fabric was hiding from him. His claws itched to peel every last bit of it away and hunt for whatever ink she was hiding on that curvy body.

Did his eyes linger a little too long? Sure, but it was purely professional. At least, that’s what he would have said if anyone had asked.

“How about a raincheck for dinner?” she offered, breaking the silence,

His gaze tore away from the stretch of fabric over her breasts and back to her blushing face. Oof, she’d definitely seen him looking her up and down. Subtlety had never been Nico’s strong suit.

“That sounds great.”

Hunting in her tiny purse, she pulled out a pen.

Small fingers ripped the receipt off his taco bag and pressed it flat on his chest. Nico’s mind went blank as she leaned forward to scribble on the back of the scrap of paper.

The sweet scent of coconut on her curls tickled his nose and it was all he could do not to press his face into her hair and fill his lungs.

She stepped away and pressed the receipt into his hand. Nico stared wordlessly at the tiny piece of paper. He should say something… anything… why was his mind completely empty?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

The curvy beauty was making him act like a tongue-tied virgin. The demon admittedly wasn’t the best with women— too surly and standoffish, according to his sister— but even he was better than this.

“I’d better get going before the handsy cow comes looking for me.” She smiled and started to back toward the rows of cars in the lot behind her. “Text me when you’re ready to cash in that raincheck.”

Nico stared at her back as she turned and walked away. His eyes shamelessly watched her hips sway under her flowered dress and for a second, he forgot how to breathe.

The slip of paper in his hand burned like a hot coal. Flipping it over, he read the neatly scribbled phone number. A tiny heart was drawn next to one word. Miri .

He finally had her name.