Page 4 of How Not to Date a Demon

Maeve let his words soak in for a moment, feeling her cheeks heat.

“Aw, got you blushing?” he teased.

Maeve flicked her insurance card at him, and watched it flutter to the asphalt by his boots. “What a generous offer, assuming you can fuck better than you drive.” She let her brows dip as if a thought occurred to her. “Of course, with that micro you’re carrying, I doubt anyone gets a happy ending.” She tapped her wrist with two fingers. “Now can we please get on with this? Or do we need to file an official report as well, hm?”

She dipped her head down to glance at the damage on her car. The ding wasn’t even that bad, and she did not want to waste her evening waiting on the police. But she’d be willing, if only to inconvenience this asshole.

When she faced the yeehaw guy again, his face was red, and he was slowly lowering his arms.

“Aw, got you blushing?” She threw his own words back at him, her tone sharp as a knife.

“Why, you little bitch,” he shouted, taking a threatening step forward.

Maeve tensed, barely holding back the urge to spring toward him.

Their gazes met, and she watched the situation process behind his eyes. Was he really about to attack her over a little dick comment?

She snickered at her own thoughts without meaning to. But it slipped out and oh—

That must have pissed him off, because he committed, rushing toward her. Maeve froze, waited until he was close enough, but not quite at arm’s reach, and twisted just out of the way. He must not have expected it, and adrenaline buzzed through her veins as he slammed a hand into her car to stop himself. She leapt at the chance, literally, and jumped on his back, latching her left arm around his throat and locking it in by crooking her forearm across the opposite wrist.

He garbled a curse at her and flailed around, and Maeve went for a spin around the parking lot with a squeak of alarm.

This yeehaw guy was pretty big. If he slammed her into the back of his truck or something, it could knock her out.

Maybe she should have thought of that first.

Oops.

“Can you just chill out?” she shouted in his ear. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

She reaffirmed her grip and squeezed her knees on either side of his waist. As he spun again, she realized his truck was nearing, and she braced herself for impact, but—

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, interrupting the yeehaw’s spin, and pulled her away like she weighed nothing, just before yeehaw could slam her into his vehicle.

Maeve glanced over her shoulder to find an impossibly tall, dark-haired man above her who looked eerily like the guy in the profile picture she was supposed to meet.

“Well, never thought I’d meet you like this. Hi, Maeve, I’m Galen.”

Oh.

He was the guy from the app she was supposed to meet.

Maeve’s cheeks heated—from embarrassment this time—and she chuckled lamely as Galen lowered her to the ground.

Once she was flat-footed again, she turned to face the scene of the crime.

Yeehaw’s face was red, his hat was gone, and he looked pissed. But one glance at the towering figure behind her, and he averted his gaze.

Without even exchanging another word, he leaned down to snatch her insurance card off the ground, got inside his truck, and pulled out a small white card.

“You guys are a match made in hell. Fuck off,” he said, flicking his own card out the window. His truck came to life with a roar, and he backed out of the aisle, burning rubber on his way out of the lot.

When she turned to face her date, she found Galen grinning.

Maeve flushed under that smile. “This is embarrassing.” Wiping the sweat off her brow, she avoided his gaze as she asked, “Still interested in that date?”

Galen didn’t answer at first, and she finally lifted her eyes to his. They were dark and intense and totally didn’t match the smile on his face. “With you? Very interested.”