What did one wear in Hell?
It was hot there—definitely hot.
Thongs, anyone?
two
Oh, this was a bad, bad thing.
As bad as bad could be.
Letting her head hang between her shoulders, Delaney gnawed on the inside of her cheek, wrestling to keep her cool so she could decide what to do next.
Because she had to do something.
If Clyde was what she thought he was, and she was pretty sure he was no floundering ghost, that meant he was possibly demonic. Though the bulk of her spirit encounters were of the ghostly kind, she’d run into a demon from time to time, and mostly, they were fairly easy to expunge.
Well, except one.
Delaney shivered.
So she had two choices. Neither prospect terribly debilitating to him, but they would hopefully stall him until she could call for reinforcements. Yet she experienced a flicker of doubt about her conclusions where this Clyde was concerned. And then she mentally scratched that after but a moment’s pause. Of course he was what she thought he was—what other explanation was there for his ability to move, er, wear physical matter?
Clyde slid to the edge of the bed with her, letting his elbows rest on his knees. Their thighs grazed each other’s—his muscled and sharply angled, hers fighting to keep a quiver visible from his naked eye.
Her dogs scampered to either side of his broad back, scratching at her worn bathrobe for more of his attention.
Well, well. So much for their otherworldly sensitivity. Clearly, it wasn’t just their bodies and psyches that were jacked up—so was their judgment. Which gave her pause. Her babies were very keen to spirits, good, bad, and otherwise. Sometimes they knew shit was going to go down long before she did.
Again, Delaney debated mentally, but only for another nanosecond before she decided her assessment of this situation was right.
Clyde’s large hand cupped the back of her Dachshund’s head, stroking it with firm fingers. He wiggled his BeDazzled backside in panting appreciation. “So I’m guessing you’re angry again?”
She swallowed hard, letting the curtain of her hair cover her face in case she did the unthinkable and gave herself and her plan up. “Nope.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
Delaney rolled her eyes upward, forcing her body to remain relaxed. “So now I’m a liar? Already, this early in our relationship, you’re calling names?”
“I hate to point out a flaw so harsh this early in our relationship , but you’re pretty quick to anger.”
“No. I’m only easily hacked off if someone’s stealing my damned grocery money. Which, P.S., you did. And while we’re not pointing out flaws so early in our relationship, I just have to point that out. You started this.”
She watched the nod of his dark head through the strands of her hair, and it sure looked damned sincere. “True enough, but I did apologize, on several occasions, and I’m still getting the gnashing-your-teeth vibe from you. I hate to beat a dead horse; I’m just trying to express myself honestly here.”
Bravo. Score one for the interloper for honesty in the first degree. “Well, then, you suck at reading chicks. I’m definitely not angry. I’m not happy, but I’m not angry.”
“That’s highly likely.”
“What is?”
“That I’ve read chicks, er, that I’ve read you wrong. In another moment of stark honestly I’ll tell you I was never very good with . . . uh . . . chicks.”
Delaney fought a snort. He was really quite charming, all things considered. She found it hard to believe he wasn’t good with chicks—as brick shithouse as he was and all.
Clyde folded his hands, strong but lean, with fingernails that were well manicured, around his knees. “And now, I suppose we ought to talk about this.”
Charming or not—she didn’t want him touching her. Delaney slid a little further off the edge of the bed until only one butt cheek clung to the lip of the mattress, her thighs burning and screaming from the strain of keeping up the pretense that she was willing to hear him out—and it hurt every muscle in her body.
So now would be the time to thank God for Pilates.
All that crazy talk of your core strength and such, the crap that had seemed soooo silly while she’d been playing with that dumb-ass piece of blue elastic tangled around her ankles, was actually working in her favor. If she could take action without freaking the dogs out, and without warning, she just might have a chance. The element of surprise was what she needed here.
“So can we talk?”