California Demon: The Secret Life of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner

Author:Julie Kenner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.

“YOU look absolutely stunning,” Stuart said, as he held out his arm for me.

We were on the sidewalk in front of the museum, standing just in front of the stairs leading up to the grand entrance. Behind us, the valet put the car in gear and drove away. I hooked my arm through Stuart’s and smiled. “You’ve already said that.”

In fact, he’d already said it three times. First when he’d come home, again after he’d changed clothes, and once again before he’d opened the car door for me.

In all fairness, I’d said it right back to him. Stuart’s not too shabby on any given day, but he’s positively dashing in a charcoal-gray tailored suit, his shoulders squared, and his eyes bright with anticipation.

In fact, he looked so delicious, that I decided to repeat myself, just for the record. “You look amazing,” I said.

“And I look even better on your arm.”

“Well, sure,” I said. “That goes without saying.”

We both laughed, and I felt warm and light, the memories of when we’d first started dating washing over me. I’d barely been free of the funk I’d slid into after Eric’s death, and the thing I remember most about those first weeks was the way Stuart had made me laugh. And the way he could always surprise me. A drive down PCH and dinner at Spago in L.A., when I’d only expected a quick burger. A night curled up on the couch with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, complete with Chinese food and wine spritzers. A weekend trip to Catalina Island after Allie had mentioned that she’d never been and really wanted to go.

And, of course, the thing that really got me: He’d asked my adolescent daughter for permission to marry me.

“You okay?”

Stuart was studying my face, and I realized that my eyes were brimming with tears.

“Oh no!” I yelped. “Handkerchief! This mascara isn’t waterproof!”

“Did I miss a crisis?” he asked, as I dabbed at my eyes, kicking myself for not going with my Maybelline standby.

“I’m fine,” I finally said, after I’d checked my reflection in my compact. “I was just thinking about the day you asked me to marry you.”

“Ah,” he said. “Well, now the tears make perfect sense.”

I lifted myself up on my toes and kissed him, hard. “I love you,” I said. “Now let’s go in there and rake up some serious campaign donations, okay?”

I started to pull open the door, but he stayed my hand. “Thank you,” he said simply.

I turned, looking at him quizzically. “For what?”

“For this. For everything. I know you never signed on to be a politician’s wife.” His mouth quirked, revealing a reluctant dimple. “And I love you for putting up with it.”

“I married the man, Stuart. Not the job. And I love you no matter what.”

I only hoped that if he ever discovered my secret life that he’d feel the same way about me.

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