Okay, so that was different, but not by a lot. Him and his shank would be on the highway to Heaven either way if all went according to what she hoped would happen to Clyde’s soul. Yet, there was a safety in knowing he couldn’t dump her because her gift interfered in their lives. There was also a safety in knowing he understood her gift and wouldn’t be troubled by it the way anyone who didn’t believe was. Plus, he didn’t think she was a nutjob for talking to dead people. It was hard to deny the overall hotness of that.
“So in closing, this won’t ever be anything but two people fulfilling their baser needs. As a demon, and if you’re anything like Marcella, those needs can be demanding. If you’re the nice guy you say you are, I don’t want you all whiny with regrets after the fact because we just did it to do it.”
The nod of his head against hers was in agreement. “First, even if that were true, and when you dig into my life, you’ll see it’s so far from the truth it borders ridiculous, that I have to leave when my time is up is also true. Second, I can’t remember the last time I whined. So the question then becomes, do you want to take that risk, knowing what you know? Or maybe even what you don’t know?”
“Do you?”
“I’m pretty sure I do.”
Her cheeks warmed and her stomach fluttered. “Then I’m just going to be straight with you because I have absolutely nothing to lose. It’s not like I’ll ever run into you—there’ll be no awkward encounters where I have to hide at the grocery store in the feminine protection aisle behind the pads with wings because you’re there with your new hottie. I can’t make an ass of myself with all that senseless begging and pleading with you not to break up with me, because you have no choice in the matter.”
Clyde’s eyes flashed an emotion she was unsure of before he said, “That much is true. So be straight.”
“Alright, but here’s the deal. Don’t let me embarrass myself.”
His laughter was deep, his hands warm and firm. “Deal.”
It was do or die. “Okay, so straight up. I’m all about owning my needs. I haven’t met a man yet, aside from you, who doesn’t think I’m some fruitcake, making things up. I’m good with this being something temporary, knowing an opportunity like this might never happen again in my lifetime. Which is pathetic, and very, very sad, but whatever—my life is what it is. Not that you’re just an opportunity . . . I mean, well, I’m just going to have to hope you know what I mean. But I want to be clear about me and who I am—this isn’t something I . . . well, I’ve never had a one-night stand or anything even remotely like it. I’m no man-eater.”
“Hall and Oats—”
She sighed.
“Sorry—it just happens.” She could faintly see his grin was sheepish, the lines by his eyes crinkling with laughter.
“Could I just get this off my chest so I know we’re not going to have any ugly misunderstandings?”
“Shoot.”
“Okay, so I’ve had one serious relationship my entire life. And one sort-of relationship when my ghosts were off on sabbatical on some tropical island or something. I had a blissfully quiet period for about a month. They showed back up—he caught me in the bathroom talking to his shower curtain because my ghost was an old navy sea captain and the bathtub was his ship, labeled me batshit, and it was over. I don’t have those hurdles with you, and that’s fine by me. And on that note, I’m also going to be honest about something else, too. I find you okay looking. Seriously, like really okay looking . . . I don’t know what you looked like before, but the human form you chose deserves a standing O.” Delaney paused, shifting her eyes down to his chest, a mere silhouette in her darkened bedroom. “And I’m okay with this just being what it is.” Though the regions of her heart were clearly less okay with it, judging from the size of the compression she’d just had in it.
Clyde tipped her chin up, catching her gaze with his. “Are you done?”
“I think my pop-up timer just popped.” Delaney took a deep breath, the inhalation forcing their chests to once more press together. The rigid line of his body pressing against hers became maddening; the rigid line of his everything else wasn’t helping either.
“I’d like to clear something up.”
“Go on with yer bad self,” she encouraged.
“This is what I look like. I didn’t steal my image from anywhere. When I look at myself in the mirror, it’s exactly what I looked like before I died.”
Tight. “Consider that cleared up, then. Anything else you want to add?”
“Is this where I confess my past relationships, too?”
Delaney’s laugh was hoarse and gritty. “You suck at small talk.”
“Guilty again. But I just want to interject one thing.”
“Interject.”
“I find you really okay looking, too.” He pushed the strands of hair clinging to her cheek away with gentle fingers.
Fire shot from her toes to her cheeks. So okay. Golden.
It was on.
Let the sexcapades begin.
Hell to the yeah.
But Clyde didn’t make the first move. She wasn’t sure if he was waiting for her. It’d been so long, she wasn’t clear on what meant all systems go.
So she went for both of them.