Page 12 of Knotty Bargain (Monster Holidays #3)

CHAPTER 12

LEVIATHAN

I lean close to Cordelia's ear as we enter the bustling cafe, the heady aroma of coffee and bread enveloping us. "Can you believe that scene with Angela? I swear her crying was faker than those eyelashes."

Cordelia giggles, her bright blue eyes sparkling. "I know, right? Total crocodile tears. But I thought you were watching 90 Days to study the human experience or something?"

I shrug. "There's a line and she crossed it two episodes ago."

Cordelia chuckles and approaches the counter with a soft smile. "Two pumpkin spice lattes, please."

Cordelia's gaze flickers to the golden pastries on display before she pulls back, biting her plump lower lip. I raise a brow. She wants one. So why not get it?

As the human punches in our order, I tilt my head at the glowing screen. "Is that contraption how you pay for things here?"

Cordelia nods. "Yeah, it's a card reader and I have one installed into my phone."

I blink slowly. "Again. Too many new words in the same sentence, Pumpkin."

She grins, her cheeks going pink.

The cashier turns to grab cups and I stop Cordelia from tapping her metal rectangle into the screen. With a flick of my fingers, I send a pulse of magic. The machine beeps, the words Card Accepted blinking on the screen. Easy.

Cordelia grabs my arm, her freckled face scrunched with worry as she pulls me aside. "Levi, is that... okay? I don't want to shortchange the cafe."

That's adorable. A grin tugs at my lips. "Don't fret, they'll get their money." I wink. "Demon's honor. Now. Explain to me." I point at the metal rectangle still in her hand. "What's that?"

As we wait for our drinks, Cordelia explains that cash has become electronic and you can pay for things with plastic cards. She tells me about phones and the internet and I try to keep up.

A girl in a puffy vest pauses next to us, pressing her back to the wall under one of the shelves. She poses with her cup, furiously tapping at her phone. I nudge Cordelia. "What's that about?"

She leans in conspiratorially. "She's taking a picture. A photograph. We have, like, online communities where we share them. Pumpkin spice latte is like, the official drink of fall."

Still pretty hard to follow half of what she says, but I understand it takes time.The girl takes a sip, pulls a face, then tosses the nearly full cup in the trash.

I gasp . I don't even remember the last time I gasped. "What the fuck? She threw it away? After paying for it?" I stare at Cordelia. "Poisoned?"

Cordelia chuckles. "Not poisoned. Some people become famous for their pictures, but that doesn't mean they're true." Cordelia shrugs as she grabs our lattes.

I take my cup from her and follow her outside. "For a moment, I thought I was getting used to your world. Now you lost me.Why buy a drink just for a picture?"

"Image is everything these days." Cordelia sighs, sipping her latte. "A lot of fitness gurus would never actually drink these. Too many calories." She pats her curvy hip. "It'd ruin their figure."

I laugh. "I don't know what a fitness guru is, but I don't understand how calories could ruin their figure. Soft and curvy is the standard of beauty." Plush thighs, pillowy breasts, round hips. Utterly luscious. Like Cordelia.

Cordelia smiles wistfully. "That was the standard, like three hundred years ago."

My gaze drifts to her empty hands. "Wait. Is that why you were eyeing those pastries and didn't buy them? Because you're afraid of calories?"

Pink blooms across her freckled cheeks. "Oh, um, I'm avoiding carbs. They make you gain weight and I'm already?—"

"Perfect." I cut her off firmly. Horror claws up my throat at the defeated slump of her shoulders. No. I will not have my lush little human disparaging her delectable form. "You look perfect, Cordelia. You can't tell me you're not eating because you're afraid of gaining weight. What's the beauty standard? Starved?"

Her face goes even redder. "Pretty much, yeah," she whispers, looking away.

I study her face as we walk down the street. She doesn't like the subject. It's probably something that's been in her head for a while, eating at her self-worth. She doesn't deserve this. She also doesn't need my prying.

Wrapping my fingers around hers, I guide across the street and toward a second cafe. The one we first visited.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her small fingers intertwining with mine.

"We're getting something to eat."

"Levi, wait, you don't have to?—"

"I want to." I squeeze her fingers into mine. "Let me take care of you."

Her breathing hitches and she ducks her head, but not before I catch the pleasure that lights up her sky-blue eyes. That's more like it. I try to smother the pride inside my chest, but it's impossible.

Once we reach the cafe, I find myself in a dilemma. With the left hand, I hold Cordelia. With the right, my drink. How am I supposed to open the door? See? That's why we have four arms...

"Shit," Cordelia hisses, looking over her shoulder.

I turn with her. Marcus and Vivian cross the street toward us. Both look down into their phones so they haven't seen us yet.

Shit indeed. Cordelia tenses, her pulse fluttering wildly against my skin. She shrinks into my side. Voice barely a whisper. "I really don't want to deal with them right now."

I squeeze her hand in silent support, sidestepping from the door. "How badly do you want to avoid them?"

"A lot." Her reply is immediate, bordering on desperate.

Well then. I glance around, a plan taking shape. We can't run. They'd obviously see us. We need an excuse. We need to look so busy they don't try to talk to us.

I tug her flush against my chest. Meeting her eyes, I say, "Please, don't knee me in the balls."

"What?"

Bending, I kiss her in the mouth. It’s just a press of lips, but she’s warm and soft and she tastes like spice and sugar. My eyelids flutter closed. The taste of her shoots straight to my cock. I let go of her hand in favor of burying my fingers into her soft, soft hair.

I’m lost in the kiss for so long I forget what we’re supposed to do. And when we break apart, Cordelia’s eyes are so wide, I know she feels it, too.

And I know I’m screwed.