“Doing that damned circle dance.”
“I thought we’d moved on to our finale—sort of like the last waltz?”
“Engelbert Humperdinck, 1968. And no, we’re not waltzing at all. We’re still circling each other.”
“How so?”
“Because there’s still more. But you’re always chasing me away with the threat of eyeball bleed before I can get you to listen. You never let me finish what I start.”
“That’s because you take light-years to get to the point, for Christ’s sake.”
He gave her a disapproving, sour look. “You take the Almighty’s name in vain a lot. Doesn’t that pose a problem for someone who’s shipping people upstairs? Aren’t you, like, a vessel of all things righteous?”
“I figure He’ll forgive me that small sin if I don’t do something way bigger. Like murder you. Besides, there’s no law that says mediums have the market cornered on Mother Teresa-ish behavior. I am only human, and this gift can be akin to waxing your bikini line sometimes. I’m hoping He’ll cut me some slack because of it.”
“Presumptuous much?”
“We’re getting off topic. We were circling another point at the airport. Land or I’m getting the prism. How is kissing me a part of this job you mentioned?” Because job well done. Bra-freakin’-vo.
The line of his mouth, so easily led to a smile, thinned again with a grim slant to it. “The assignment meant for Clyve was worse than you think, Delaney.”
“Uh, how much worse does it get than trying to get me to off myself?”
“Much worse. Well, worse in that the plan was to get you to do something else before you ended your life.”
“I can’t even imagine what’s left after suicide. Murder, maybe? Serial killing?”
“Okay, you’re right, that probably tops suicide. Definitely commandment breakers.”
Her hand slid to the back of her neck to massage it. The day was only a few hours old, but it felt like they’d been getting to this point for an eternity. Add in that kiss and she was ass fried. “Clyde? Heads up. I think my patience has worn thin. We’ve been around the block and back again and while I get your dilemma, we really need to wrap this up. Put it in the can, so to speak. Lay this shit to rest so I can get on with the business of living. So if you have any compassion at all for this weary medium, tell me what else there is and why it had to include macking on me.” Because the macking was some of the best she’d ever experienced and while she’d like to chalk that up to her irresistibility, she knew she’d only be conning herself. There’d been a purpose for that kiss. Clyde’s face had it written all over it in black and white.
He smiled, the grin spreading from one end of his face to the other. “Me.”
“You?”
“Me. I’m what else there is.”
Delaney’s response was dry, her defeat evident. “I don’t know if anyone ever told you this while you were alive, Clyde, but you’re the most infuriating man I’ve ever known.”
He smirked, though clearly from his tone he didn’t harbor any resentments. “There was Tia. She said my lack of focus on anything else but my work was sometimes infuriating, if that makes you feel less alone.”
Tia. There was a Tia. That’s right—he’d mentioned a Tia. Who was Tia? Why should she care who Tia was? Did he kiss Tia like he’d kissed her? Kee-rist. “Good to know. Now quit with the unsolved mysteries and tell me ‘what else there is’ means and how that had to involve your lips on mine. Please, before the devil gets his way and I OD on green tea or something.”
“I had to kiss you.”
“Because?”
“Because that’s what lovers do.”
Just the thought made her shiver. Lovers. Oh, Gawd. If she didn’t go to Hell with the help of some demon, she was going there for even thinking about them in a very nonbiblical sense—like the limbs-all-tangled sense—like the sweat gluing their naked bodies together from the motion of the ocean sense—like . . . “How’d we get all carnal in the space of a mere twenty-four hours?”
“We didn’t. Not literally speaking—just figuratively.”
Around and around they went. “We figuratively were lovers, and I missed it? Damn. You know what? I hate when that happens. I haven’t figuratively boinked anyone in forevah and when I do, I, like, sleep through it. I. Suck.”
Clyde gave her another smart-assed grin. “I mean, I wanted that demon to think we were lovers, but we’re really just lovers on a figurative level.”
“I’m lost. You play the guide role this time.”
“That demon was sent to check up on me. I kissed you so he’d think we’re involved.”
“And the reason for that is . . . ?”
“Because I’m your new boyfriend.”
Tight.
Look at the medium all gettin’ herself a main squeeze without even trying after all these dry, dry years.
Way. To. Score.
seven
“You know what talking to you is like, Clyde?”