Truth or Demon by Kathy Love Page B

romantic.
    She laughed, until she realized he was staring at her, his expression strange. And unreadable. She sobered.
    “So you need a store?”
    He glanced down at himself, then made a pained expression. “Yes. That would be good.”
    She thought of the best place to send him. “Well, there is a strip mall one stop away on the T. On the red line. That should have everything you need.”
    He frowned. “Aren’t you going to go with me?”
    Poppy hesitated, thinking of that manuscript sitting only half completed on her desk. Playing hooky was so not her.
    “Umm—Ginger can’t go with you?”
    Killian frowned, not answering right away. “She’s sleeping. You know, because she worked—late.” “Right.”
    “So you aren’t going to leave me on my own, are you?” He smiled then, that breathtaking smile she’d imagined more than a few times this morning.
    She glanced back to her office as if somehow the actual manuscript would give her permission to take a little time off. Shocker—it didn’t.
    “Surely you can take an hour or so to help out a traveler in need.”
    She debated for a moment, then released a pent-up breath. “Sure. I can take a little while.”
    He smiled then, but when her eyes locked on to the handsome curve of his sculpted lips, he sobered.
    She didn’t quite understand his reaction, but she didn’t allow herself to ponder it. She’d definitely been doing enough pondering about him as it was.
    “Let me grab a sweater.” She turned, leaving him in the doorway. She refused to look at the pages of manuscript as she hurried through her office to her bedroom.
    She wasn’t going to feel guilty. After all, she was helping a friend—well, an acquaintance—in need.
    See, Killian told himself as he watched Poppy dash off, no sexy Poppy of his dreams. She was clad just as he’d expected in another T-shirt. This one sported an image of Dr. Seuss’s Cat in the Hat. Along with her T-shirt, she wore a pair of faded jeans and fuzzy black-and-white socks. Her long hair was knotted messily on the top of her head.
    Not a hint of the sexy vixen of his dream. And that, he told himself, was because dream Poppy was just that. Imaginary. A strange, unexplainable creation of his unconscious mind.
    So he shouldn’t give it another thought. Period. He would stay focused on finding her a man. That was the best plan for all of them.
    “Okay. Ready.” She returned to the door wearing a gray cable-knit sweater with big buttons. On her feet, she wore sneakers that looked more appropriate for a small boy.
    Definitely not his type, he told himself as he watched her lock her door. Then she turned and smiled at him. He caught a glimpse of her dimple, and just like that, his body reacted, seeming to vibrate with awareness.
    Okay, she was cute. Adorable, even—in a whimsical way. But still not his type. And adorable would make it easier to find her a match.
    “Do you think we could stop and get a bite to eat first?” he asked.
    “Umm—sure,” she said, falling into step beside him. “Do you have anything in mind?”
    Daisy did have a point. He needed to get Poppy somewhere where there were men to meet. He glanced at her, noticing how tendrils of her brown hair had escaped the barrette and curled against the pale skin of her neck. Something like a sharp jolt of electricity shot through him again, and he fought the urge to groan.
    He had to get out of here. When he started finding women in bulky cardigans and little-boy sneakers attractive, it was getting pretty damned strange. He was starting to think the spell had actually addled his brain. Time to just pick some guy, control his thoughts—assuming he could—make him fall for Poppy, and then get the hell out of here.
    “I want to go someplace busy.”
    She gave him an odd look, then said, “That would be Smiley’s.”
    Smiley’s. Of course, he’d be taking the cute, whimsical girl to a place called Smiley’s.
    As Killian stepped through the door, he