It would so help if he hadn’t chosen such an unassuming, yet ultrafine human form. When he stood there, looking all like someone had just stolen his lunch money, but hot as the day was long doing it, making him nothing but a blip on her radar would be so much easier. “Wait what? You did what you needed to, and I’d bet, if you really did end up in Hell as some kind of cosmic mistake, this little random act of demonic chivalry will go on the pro side of your scorecard from upstairs. So thanks and all that jazz. Now go figure out what happened to you—you’re absolved.”
Clyde remained rooted to the center of her store on the big braided rug she’d bought at Rasheem’s Rug Palace with a stance that said he wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s not that simple.”
It would seem nothing with Clyde was. “What’s not? You pulled a naughty by switching some file names, which, if what you’re saying about your former life is true, was completely warranted—total validation is on your side. I’d be pissed if I’d been jacked like you have, my friend. So now you have however much time Satan gave this clown Clyve here on Earth to figure out what happened to you in your final moments. Use them wisely, Grasshopper.” She waved a hand at the door, dismissing him. But her eyes couldn’t watch him leave. Despite what he’d told her, if he was telling the truth, then as a medium, technically, she should be helping him.
Yeah, that was it. She just wanted to help. It had nothing to do with his dork appeal.
Nothing.
He strode to where she stood in two long steps, gazing down at her. “I can’t just leave you here alone after telling you something like that, Delaney. You’re in danger.”
An odd twist in her chest made her that much more determined to get rid of him. Because if he wasn’t telling the truth and she let him play her, she was fucked. “Aw, look. A demon with a Superman complex. I don’t need your help, Clyde, for all the good it’d do me, anyway. Let’s face it. You’re not exactly all about the fear factor. Marcella did secure you with salt and duct tape.”
He needed to go away. If he was as innocent as he claimed, Lucifer would spit fireballs and pitchforks if he found out what Clyde had done before Clyde could take care of his earthly business. Especially if he helped her. If the devil wanted her lock, stock, and crossings like Clyde said, he’d get all hinky over one of his minions stopping that. Clyde might not be telling the truth, but one thing was abundantly clear as of this moment: he wasn’t much of a threat. She was as sure of that as she was the size of her panties.
Why she should care if he was hurt in the making of this Hel lavision was something she had no time to dwell on. The idea that Kellen was even mentioned in passing in all of this had her terrified, and that had to be her focus.
Clyde’s long arms, not too bulky, but with just the right amount of muscle, crossed over his wide chest. His lips formed a thin line of resolve. “I’m not leaving.”
Whew, when he had that oh so focused look of determination on his face, he was downright hawt, dweeb glasses and all. “Clyde, Clyde, Clyde. Do I have to get the prism?”
“Do I have to set something else on fire?”
Sweet mother. There was no denying his beefcake status when he was being pushed. Now she crossed her arms over her chest, rocking back on her heels. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He cocked an eyebrow, dark and condescending, at her. “We’ve traveled this road.”
Rolling her tongue along the inside of her cheek, Delaney narrowed her eyes at him. “Time’s wastin’, Clyde. How much time did your level boss give you—er, sorry, Clyve—to drive me to the brink of insanity again?”
“A month.”
“Hoo boy. You’d better make haste. According to my calendar, you have twenty-nine days left.”
“I know how much time I have left, and I plan to use it wisely—while I’m here—with you.”
Was this like an episode of Geeks Gone Wild? A sort of uprising—rage against the machine—like the meek shall inherit the Earth and all? “Uh, no. You’re not staying here, if that’s what that chest-beating, knuckle-dragging statement was about. There’s no room at the inn.”
He barked another laugh, only this one didn’t make her belly experience the release of a thousand butterflies.
“That’s funny, how?”
“No one’s ever implied I was a Neanderthal. I find I don’t so much mind the reference.” He grinned again, changing the whole landscape of his face from just moments ago.
Just as she was about to go get the prism, the bell on her door jingled, signaling a customer. Then two things happened almost simultaneously.
Her first, albeit brief thought was, she had a man in the middle of her store in broad daylight who was wearing a throw around him like a bath towel while a customer strolled into her store. And the man was naked underneath.
Na-ked.
The second was Clyde’s lips.
Attached.
To hers.
And of all the species of men, geeks being the least known for their prowess, Delaney decided they’d been sorely underrated.
Because bow-chick-a-wow-wowwww.