Hell On Heels by Robyn Peterman Read Free Book Online

to his mouth.
    “You scare the Hell out of me, Dixie, in the best way possible.”
    His breath smelled delicious and it took everything I had not to slam him against the door to taste him. “You scare me too, so we’re even.”
    He exhaled an overly dramatic sigh. “Well, now that we got that out of the way, we can relax and have a great time. Okay?” His eyes were full of amusement as they searched mine.
    “Okay,” I agreed. “Where are we going?”
    “It’s a surprise.”
    ***
    The drive took about forty-five minutes down winding roads I’d never traveled before. My voice came back with a vengeance. Thankfully it was mutual. I kept forgetting how handsome he was because he was so smart and funny. We talked about movies, books, music, school, drunk teachers and how the Underworld was the greatest place in the universe.
    I told him how Ernest Hemingway scared the Hell out of me when I was five by describing bullfighting in graphic bloody detail. Of course Hemingway resided in Heaven but was quite fond of the atmosphere in Hell. Satan and Hemingway were known to go at each other with gusto and pitcher after pitcher of mojitos with the occasional Cuban cigar thrown in. Hayden sheepishly informed me that Gone With the Wind was one of his all time favorites, so I let him off the hook by professing my love for Barry Manilow.
    We argued theology and laughed about the mortals’ obsession with Vampyres. I giggled so hard I snorted when he imitated movie scenes depicting Demons. Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist were the best. My snort made him laugh so hard he had to pull over. I felt my face grow hot, but my embarrassment disappeared as he swore to me it was cute and begged me to do it again. I refused, called him an asswipe and punched him in the arm, which only made him laugh harder.
    Cosmo magazine was full of it. I didn’t need to grill him about himself. I just need to be me. I only stopped breathing a couple of times when I caught him staring with something in his eyes that looked like wonder.
    “We’re here,” he said, his excitement was contagious.
    “Where’s here?” I peered out the window.
    We were parked at the edge of a monster field of wildflowers. There was no moon, but the stars were out and bathed the scene before me with a soft glittery glow. It was exquisite.
    “Is there a restaurant here?”
    “I brought the restaurant with us." He gave me an irresistible grin.
    “Okay.” I was confused.
    “Come on.” He got out of the truck and went around to the back.
    He handed me a soft blanket and pulled out a large cooler. “Follow me,” he instructed.
    I did. If he had told me to stand on my head and yodel, I would have done that too.
    He spread the blanket on the ground and opened the cooler. It was filled with all sorts of yummy food. He laid out plates and napkins, patted the ground next to him and waited for me to join.
    Was I nuts? I was alone with a guy I barely knew in the middle of nowhere. It was an awfully pretty flower field middle of nowhere, but nowhere nonetheless. The flowers were not the prettiest thing here. . .he was, but that was beside the point. I was having insane urges to touch him and my stomach was flipping around like it was hosting an international gymnastics competition. This was a recipe for disaster.
    My body tensed and I considered running away, but I had no idea where we were. My grip was tenuous at best on all of the emotions ping ponging around inside me. Just as I was about to give into my fear and run, he started to sing one of my favorite Barry Manilow songs. . .badly.
    “Oh Dixie, well you came and you gave without taking, but I sent you away
    Oh Dixie, well you kissed me and stopped me from shaking
    And I need you today, oh Dixie…”
    “Stop,” I laughed, and dove toward him to cover his mouth with my hand. “You’re destroying Barry!”
    I tripped over the blanket and onto Hayden. I knocked him to his back and ended up right on top of him, nose to