Sucker for Love: The Dead-End Dating Novel

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Sucker for Love: The Dead-End Dating Novel Page 18

by Kimberly Raye


  A pod person. That was the only explanation. In addition to the multitude of Others out there, there were also little green body snatchers.

  “I can’t wait to get started.” She rubbed her hands together. “It’s going to be magnificent.” She slid an arm around Mandy’s shoulders.

  Seriously.

  “The three of us together”—she gave Mandy a squeeze—“setting goals and overcoming our weaknesses.” She released Mandy with an abruptness that sent her stumbling backward, and eyeballed me. “Speaking of which, you should really work on your attitude, dear. Maybe tone down the pickiness. Otherwise, you’ll never find a mate.”

  Lose the X-Files. Jacqueline was definitely present and accounted for.

  “When Evie filled us in on all the fun you were having,” my mother rushed on, “and how you wanted us to come down and join you on your little retreat, I called Mandy and had her take a few days off at the hospital.” She beamed. “And here we are.” Her glance traveled around the room. “You’re actually staying here?”

  “I know it looks bad—” I started, but she cut me off.

  “Where’s the mini-bar?”

  “No mini-bar.” Abject horror lit her gaze and I couldn’t help myself. “No Jacuzzi. No turn-down service. No concierge. No complimentary bottle of AB—or a nice, comfy coffin with an extra-thick pad.” Those last two were only available at the Plaza, which was owned by Nina’s father and, therefore, catered to the undead. But hey, I might as well lay it on extra thick, right?

  She visibly swallowed and I gave myself a mental high five. This was it. She’d turn and hightail it back to Connecticut.

  Or, at the very least, a five star hotel in Austin.

  “Oh, well. That simply means fewer distractions.” She cleared her throat. “We can devote our full attention to one another.”

  Talk about a great big fat sack of No.

  “It’s not too bad,” Mandy offered. “You should have seen my dorm room back in college. Talk about pathetic.”

  “I can only imagine,” my mother readily agreed.

  “Besides,” Mandy went on, “the desk clerk was nice and they do have snacks in the lobby.”

  “Wonderful.” My mother turned to Mandy. “Why don’t you run down and fetch me some Doritos and a few candy bars?”

  “But Mother Marchette, you don’t actually eat Doritos and candy bars,” Mandy pointed out, and the vein in my mother’s right temple started to throb. “Do you?”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised what I eat, dear. And please call me Jacqueline. All my friends do.”

  “I don’t really feel comfortable doing that.” Mandy shook her head. “You’re my elder, after all.”

  The vein swelled and threatened to explode. “How respectful of you,” Jacqueline finally said, her words tight and controlled. “But the snacks aren’t for me, dear. If you intend to conceive, you need to keep up your strength.”

  “I doubt Doritos will do much by way of nutrition.” She seemed to think. “Then again, I am on vacation and I could certainly use a snack. They had dinner on the plane, but it was spaghetti and I’m allergic to tomatoes.”

  “Such a tragedy,” my mother said, but I didn’t miss the gleam that lit her eyes. I had a bad feeling our retreat was now going to include tomato paste facials.

  “Be back in a flash.” Mandy headed for the lobby.

  Meanwhile, I was still trying to process the all-important fact that my mother was here. Now.

  “Close your mouth, dear.” My mother waved a hand. “You’re liable to swallow one of these pesky flies.”

  “There’s a bug zapper in the bathroom,” I heard myself say.

  “Oh, joy.”

  Here. Now.

  “You need to feed, Lilliana. You’re much too pale.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked when I finally managed to find my voice.

  “Protecting my son. The Yaz attempt at Crazy J’s backfired. I think someone is trying to sabotage me.”

  “What a bitch.” I summoned my most shocked/ innocent expression. “So, um, what makes you think that?”

  My mother gave me a knowing look. “Someone switched restaurants.”

  “The traitor.”

  “Mandy said it was Evie and Evie said it was you.”

  Busted. “It was me. I switched the restaurants on purpose. But I did it for you, Ma. If Jack had found out, he would have been even more determined to have a human baby, just to spite you.”

  “Your brother can be quite the rebel.”

  “You need to come up with something more subtle. Why not just scare her into giving up the baby effort?”

  “You mean like flash my fangs and threaten her?” She looked hopeful. “Maybe rip out someone’s throat right in front of her?”

  “Just tell her how hard it is. Talk to her. Maybe she’ll change her mind on her own.”

  She gave it a moment’s consideration and I thought she might actually agree with me. But then she shook her head. “I need a more direct approach.” She waved a hand. “What do you think about suffocation?”

  “I’d go for something a little more inconspicuous.”

  “Strangulation?”

  “Too hands-on.”

  “Bullet to the head?”

  “Listen, Ma, I know you like a good kill as much as the rest of us vamps”—self excluded—“but Jack would never forgive you. You know that. He’s in love with Mandy.” She narrowed her gaze. “Or at least he thinks he is.”

  “You’re right,” she said after another contemplative moment. “I can’t very well shed Mindy’s blood and have him hate me for the rest of his afterlife.”

  “It’s Mandy, Ma. Not Mindy.”

  “What ever. I’ll just have to think of something else. At least I can rest easy for the next week. That fact alone makes all the smiles and horrid enthusiasm doable. They certainly can’t reproduce with a thousand miles between them. Not that your brother’s sperm isn’t up for a lengthy swim. He’s a Marchette, after all. But even Marchette sperm would have difficulty crossing several state lines.”

  I’m as confident in my sexuality as the next modern vampire. I’ve burned my share of bras (a few off-the-rack babies I’d gotten on sale) and been to over a dozen Passion Parties and I’d even sat through the 9½ Weeks DVD seven times in the hope of trying out a certain cherry scene with one hunkilicious bounty hunter. I was totally secure, and I certainly didn’t blush when it came to talking sex.

  “Though your uncle Richard did manage to impregnate Aunt Denise while she was in Palm Springs and he was in Las Vegas on a business trip a few years ago. Apparently, they’d had intercourse before he’d left and the little buggers managed to survive two solid weeks until Denise had another orgasm and released a viable egg.”

  But ewwwwww.

  “How did you find me?” I blurted, eager to drop-kick the subject of my family’s super spoodge and distract myself from the ickiness creeping through me. My mom’s radar shifted past me and homed in on Nina.

  I turned in time to see my friend shrug. “I might have left a message on Rob’s cell letting him know where to find me in case he realizes he’s crazy about me and feels the need to fly down this very second and declare his feelings. Obviously, he hasn’t made the revelation.” She teared up, which kept me from ripping her a new one.

  My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as selfless.

  “Rob has a message for you.” Jacqueline’s gaze collided with Nina’s. “He said to tell you that he’s giving you the apartment and picking up the rest of his things. He said he’ll be completely moved out by the time you get back.”

  My hopes shot sky high. “He found a new place?”

  “I wouldn’t call it new. It’s ancient. And extremely small. One bedroom. Minute living area. Microscopic kitchen.”

  “That sounds like my apartment.”

  She smiled and dread rolled through me. “It’ll be just like when you were growing up. Of course, you had your own s
uite and Rob had his and there was an entire castle between the two of you. And lots of tasteful furniture. And expensive rugs. And several servants.” She gave a shiver. “How you manage in that sardine can, without at least a foot masseuse, I’ll never know.”

  My gaze narrowed. That was my sardine can.

  She waved a hand and rushed on, “Nevertheless, it’ll be a wonderful chance for the two of you to reconnect. You can go hunting together. Perhaps scout out potential blood slaves.”

  “Sounds fab.” Not.

  “You need a positive influence in your afterlife.”

  “It’s Rob, Ma. Last New Year’s he got so shit-faced he tried to sink his teeth into the yard sculpture of Aphrodite.”

  “So he’d had a few too many toasts? It was a holiday. ”

  I arched an eyebrow. “And the time he tried to hump Dad’s life-sized cutout of Tiger Woods?”

  “That was the fourth of July. And he thought it was Halle Berry.”

  “He propositioned Grandma Jolie.”

  “Groundhog Day. And my mother is a beautiful woman.”

  “This is crazy.” I shook my head. “No. Uh-uh. Not happening. He’s not crashing at my place permanently.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because …” It was time he stopped being an irresponsible jerk and started owning up to his responsibilities—namely the born female vampire who loved him and the baby that was on the way.

  “I might want to prance around in nothing but my thong,” I blurted. What can I say? My ma scares the crap out of me. “I can’t very well get my naked on with Rob parked on my sofa.”

  “So you wear a robe. It’s a small sacrifice to help a member of your family.”

  “What am I supposed to do if I meet that perfect vampire and he wants to sleep over? Or move in? How will we all fit?”

  “Don’t be silly, dear. All vampires are perfect.”

  “You’re missing the point. Say I meet The One. I can’t spend eternity with someone if they don’t even fit in my apartment.”

  She nailed me with a stare. “Have you met someone?”

  This was it. My chance to come clean and tell her about Ty and the fact that I’d practically pledged my afterlife to him and he hadn’t so much as hinted at the L word.

  “Not yet. But you never know. It could happen just like that. One minute I’m single and the next I’m happily attached and giving up half—er, make that a quarter of my closet space.”

  What? I’ve got a lot of stuff.

  “Rob can come and live at home if that happens,” my mother informed me. “In his old room.”

  Sheesh. Now I’d never get him out of my place.

  “Listen, Mom—” I started, only to be interrupted by the sound of metal clunking down the walkway outside.

  Three heartbeats later, Elmer wheeled in what looked suspiciously like a mattress.

  “Here you are, Mrs. Marchette. My last double roll-away.” He tapped the edge. “She’s a beaut, ain’t she?”

  Reality hit me like a cheap shoe right between the eyes. “You’re really staying here?” I turned to my ma. “In this room?”

  “Rodeo lasts through next week,” Elmer informed me. “This is the best I could do without a reservation.”

  My recent kidnapping rolled through my head and hope fired to life. “But there’s a Holiday Inn on the interstate going toward Fredericksburg. Complete with mini-bar, down comforter—you name it. Really, Ma, you can’t possibly want to stay here.”

  “Lookee here—” Elmer started, but I silenced him with a mental Shut up now and I’ll do my best to hook you up with DoraLee at the nail salon.

  His mouth snapped closed.

  “Just look at this place,” I rushed on. “It’s totally beneath you. Tasteless. Cheap. You can’t be serious.”

  She cast a look around and I didn’t miss the You said it in her gaze. To her credit, however, her smile didn’t falter. “Lilliana, it doesn’t matter where we stay. All that matters is that Millie’s here instead of back home humping your brother.” My mother smiled. “It’ll be delightful.”

  Delightful meaning about as pleasant as having my skin peeled away inch by inch.

  And I thought Esther had it rough?

  I spent the next five minutes stacking my mother’s luggage in every available corner while she, Nina and Mandy piled on the bed to talk about “girl stuff.”

  Angelina’s latest comments about Jen.

  Jen’s No comment regarding Angelina’s comments.

  Brad’s comments about Angelina’s comments about Jen’s no comment.

  It seemed my mother had been forced to fly coach since she’d booked at the last minute. Rather than slaughter the woman next to her (who insisted on showing the 389 photos of her newest grandson), my mom had opted for no bloodshed and the latest copy of Entertainment Weekly.

  Go Ma.

  “What do you think, Lil?” Nina tried to draw me into the conversation. “Is Ang a hater or what?”

  “I think she’s insecure. That reminds me”—I snatched up my phone—“I’ve got a long list of desperately insecure singles depending on me.” I made a mad dash for the bathroom and locked myself in.

  Scrolling through numbers, I found Tabitha’s home and hit ON.

  “I’m so sorry about tonight,” I told her the minute her voice mail picked up. I gave her the line about the importance of a few practice dates when traveling the road to happily ever after. “In the meantime, I’m doing everything possible to make the journey short.”

  With my anxiety raging and the possibility of a refund in my near future, I needed a serious pick-me-up. I punched in DeWalt’s number for a quick update on his date with Jonelle.

  “She’s great.”

  Relief swamped me. Maybe I didn’t totally suck at this matchmaking thing.

  “We’re seeing each other tomorrow,” he went on. “Who’s next?”

  Okay, so maybe I did suck.

  “Another? Sure. No problem. One fertile female BV coming right up.”

  Since I didn’t have one, much less four, waiting in line, the urge to freak hit hard and fast. I counted to ten (the top ten new designers featured in Barneys’ upcoming spring collection), which relaxed my muscles and successfully distracted me from the urge to hang myself from the shower rod.

  Mia was next on my call list and I instantly regretted punching her digits. She’d gone into withdrawal from lack of sex, slipped with her tattoo needle and put a heart on some guy’s testicle. But other than a major lawsuit, her life was just great (bye-bye, regret). She liked Harmon and was still determined to go through with the no-nooky policy. She figured if she made it through one more date (a free Lawrence Welk tribute concert in Central Park) she could handle anything, even a lifetime of boring and sexless.

  I didn’t have a good-looking nympho waiting in the wings, so I quickly agreed. “Who needs sex when you can have companionship?”

  “Exactly,” Mia said. “I’m through looking for a needle in a haystack. I’m settling for the hay, and I owe it all to you, Lil.”

  At least I had one satisfied customer out there.

  Still, I found myself Googling Nymphos-R-Us on my phone just to see if maybe there wasn’t a local chapter that might provide a surplus of prospects.

  Take the money and run, right? I would have except my conscience kept niggling at me and, well, we’re talking Lawrence Welk. I couldn’t just sit by and let anyone endure that kind of torture.

  I called Rob next, but his voice mail was full. I sent a text instead

  Get. Out. Now!

  I toyed with the idea of calling Ty, particularly since he’d left me two voice mails.

  A cryptic Stay out of it and a resigned I know you won’t stay out of it, so be careful.

  Was this vamp my soul mate or what?

  I dialed his number, but hung up after the third ring. Really. What was I going to say? He would just start questioning me and I would have to lie and, well, that was no way to tre
at a soul mate. Better to let the whole thing blow over. I wouldn’t have any reason to lie, and honesty was the best policy. Until then? Avoidance.

  My mother gushed, “Margie, you’re so witty. I’m so lucky to have you as a daughter-in-law,” and I eyeballed the small window near the ceiling. No way was I squeezing my butt through that, but I could totally flap my way out if things got too deep.

  I pulled out my new pink nail polish. I was just swiping my baby toe when Nina knocked on the door.

  “You can’t stay in there forever.”

  I finished up the toe and moved on to my nails. “I’m not staying in here forever. I’m escaping through the window in a matter of minutes.”

  “You can’t do that. We need you for Truth or Dare.”

  “Now I’m really out of here.”

  “I know it’s kind of lame, but it was Mandy’s suggestion. She thought it would be a great way for us to get to know one another.”

  “I lived with my mother for four hundred and ninety-nine years. Trust me, I know all I need to.”

  “Your ma brought two cases of blood.”

  My stomach gave a traitorous growl. “I’m not hungry.”

  “It’s imported.”

  My fangs tingled and I swallowed. “N-no thanks.”

  “Come on. It’s girl time.”

  “It isn’t girl time. I’m here on business. How am I supposed to concentrate and hone my matchmaking skills with my mother here?”

  “It’s just a few days. As soon as you find Esther, we all go home.”

  “Esther?” I went for a laugh. “Esther who?”

  “I saw the bloody sofa, remember? I know you. You’re like a pit bull. She disappeared on your watch. You’re not just going to let it go. Besides, what else would bring you to Texas? And don’t give me that crap about finding your inner strength. You can do that at Bloomingdale’s like the rest of us.”

  “She’s in trouble.” I told her about Mordred and the ritual. I ended with a “I know she’s here, but I can’t seem to get a solid on her exact location.”

  “You’re thinking about it too much. You need a break. Play some Truth or Dare and have a little fun. Maybe it’ll help.”

  “Getting grilled by my ma hardly qualifies as fun.”

 

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