Page 10

Lydia

Angelo had the audacity to waltz into the shop, sit in one of my cushy chairs, and pick up a book while I worked.

He didn’t say anything to me right away. Eventually, I decided to put on a CD I knew he disliked to make a point. Yesterday, I would have paid to be in his arms, his lips on mine. It wasn’t just the pheromones, though they helped. It was the way he looked at me, as if I were the most vital and interesting thing in the world.

I could still feel that look, even from across the room, but this time it just pissed me off. He didn’t get to ghost me and then sit in my shop, watching me like a lion tracks a gazelle.

“Don’t you have a house showing to go to?” I snapped as I passed him for the umpteenth time. He’d slid lower in the chair, his legs in the aisle.

I narrowly dodged them again as I navigated the stacks. My shop wasn’t large, but it was roomier than the setup I had in Tiller. I wasn’t doomed to trip over Angelo in the cramped confines of my own damned business. If I was up close and personal with him, it was generally on purpose and almost always his idea. I’d never exactly complained about the times he’d sidled close before kissing me senseless, so I thought of it as a victimless crime. It was cat and mouse, a silent agreement we’d formed over the last few months. He liked the chase. So did I.

Right now, though? It was just making me angry. Angelo gave me a somewhat affronted look when I kicked his leg out of my way, steadying the precarious pile in my arms. I had no sympathy when he rubbed his shin idly, his gaze fixed on my back in bewilderment. I was being prickly, and I knew it.

“I don’t want to trip,” I said, unable to help myself, softening the kick with the only excuse I could think of. “Keep your legs to yourself.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, still eyeing me as I began to arrange my newest display. The new-agey stuff sold best, but I’d decided to splurge on a few more obscure texts most recently. “And no, I don’t have a house to show, to answer your question. Not for another two hours. I’m on a meal break.”

“But you’re not eating,” I pointed out.

In fact, he’d been leafing through what amounted to a sorcery-for-dummies book the entire time.

“I had a sandwich on the way over.”

“And the Subway employee who made it?” I added, my voice lowering to an unhappy grumble.

It was a cheap shot, and I knew it. Angelo hadn’t given me any real reasons to doubt his sincerity, but I wanted to question it anyway. It just didn’t make sense that someone so devilishly handsome could like someone like me. And it didn’t make sense for a playboy like Angelo to shackle himself to a monogamous relationship. If by some miracle he’d decided to defy biology and be content with just one person, why would it ever be me?

Ask, I thought to myself. Poppy gave you advice. Take it. Talk to him.

But I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to rail at him. I wanted to ask how he could do this to me. I’d put on makeup, for heaven’s sake! I almost never wore it these days. No point when I wasn’t looking for a date. Angelo had slunk into my life unexpectedly, settling like an absurdly attractive fixture before I could process it. He was in my life. That was just the way it was.

Thinking of him leaving wasn’t just painful; it felt unbearable, like losing a limb. But if I told him that, he’d run for the hills. And I couldn’t even blame him.

Angelo reached purposefully for the display I was working on, plucking a velvety black bookmark from the knick-knacks section before neatly slotting it into the pages of the book he’d been reading. He managed to do so without ever taking his eyes off me. I felt a mortified flush creep up my neck as he stared me down. I didn’t look away, though. It felt like letting him win. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to beat him at, just that I didn’t want to be the one who blinked first.

The small sound the book made when it hit the end table beside his chair made me jump. It sounded like a gunshot in the silence of the shop. My radio had been trashed recently in a magic-related incident. I’d almost decided to get a white noise machine, if only to alleviate the claustrophobic quiet that tried to strangle the air from me. Pregnant silences stretched almost unbearably, like this one.

I shrank closer to the display when he stood and brushed past me, heading for the front door. For a long, guilty second, I was afraid I’d driven him out of the shop for good with the sudden and uncharacteristic bout of bitchiness that had overtaken me. I couldn’t even blame Indigo for this one. She’d be back tomorrow evening when the brew we’d come up with wore off and maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t witnessing this.

I expected Angelo to storm past me. Instead, he stopped just shy of the door, flicking my ‘We’re open’ sign to the ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ position. My heart pounded furiously when he drew the front shades down over my windows, plunging the midday shop into sudden twilight.

“What are you doing?” I protested weakly.

“Ensuring some privacy,” he said, brushing the creases from his slacks in a brisk, businesslike fashion. “Clearly, we need to talk.”

I lost my nerve first, dropping my eyes to the darkly stained wood under my fingertips instead. The flush was creeping onto my face now, and I hated my traitorous blood for outing me like this. If I could pull off the cool cucumber routine he’d mastered, I’d probably sell more. I just didn’t have that kind of poker face.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said without raising my gaze. What little light remained glinted off the surface of a crystal ball. They weren’t actually great for scrying, according to Indigo’s snooty lecture on the subject. You got better results with potions or plain water. I’d never tried it, so I couldn’t back up the claim.

Warm fingers closed like velvet restraints around one of my wrists, pinning my hand to the display table. My breath caught in my throat as Angelo’s weight pressed into me from behind. I could feel every well-sculpted inch of him against the line of my spine, caging me in place. I could only make a small, pleased exhale when his fingers wrapped around the column of my throat with infinite care. When his teeth found purchase against the throbbing beat of my pulse, I actually moaned.

“Bullshit,” Angelo chided me. “Something’s wrong. And you’re going to tell me what it is. Keep bullshitting me and I’ll...”

The hand on my throat dipped, skimming over my blouse with lazy, confident ease, undoing three buttons before I could blink, let alone protest. His hand disappeared, deftly shoving my bra out of the way before tweaking one nipple painfully. The gasp that escaped me was one part arousal, two parts outrage.

“We’re in public!”

“The door is locked, your sign says you’re closed, and you need to wind down.”

An unpleasant bark of laughter escaped me before I could stop it. “Oh yeah, because you’re great at helping women wind down. All you did last night was make empty promises and then you stood me up.”

Angelo released me so suddenly that I sagged over the table. It shifted the display by a few inches, and only his quick reflexes kept the crystal ball from shattering on the shop floor. He replaced it with a thoughtful expression, watching me retreat to the safety of the stacks, away from his pheromones. I couldn’t think clearly when he touched me. All my reasons to be angry melted away for a while, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d been an ass.

His eyes narrowed on my face, searching for something there. He must have found what he was looking for because a mix of surprise and chagrin twisted his full, kissable mouth.

“Well, damn.”

“Damn?” I repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”

After everything we’d done last night and his attitude afterward, he was just going to write it off with a shrug and a swear word? Men. He was acting just like one. Trust them not to take things as seriously as they should.

Angelo took a deliberate step forward, putting more body language into the motion than was strictly necessary. It drew attention to all the parts of him I should have been ignoring, like the broad, well-sculpted set of his shoulders and the tapered waist that promised a delicious view beneath. I’d never seen him completely naked, and I wanted to. Good God did I want to. But that was the problem. This whole thing was unfairly weighted in his favor. Every red-blooded, straight woman would want him. I couldn’t blame him for giving me a pass.

“Yes, that’s all I have to say,” he replied simply. “Fifi was right. I’ve never done this...” Angelo paused, grimacing as though what he had to say next tasted funny. “This relationship thing. I hate being bad at it.”

I stared at him for a moment. “I don’t understand.”

Another gliding step forward. He was like a sleekly muscled cat stalking its prey. There was grace in the movement no human could possess. But then again, he wasn’t human. He was a demon who hadn’t fed in months because of me.

My eyes pricked, and my gut clenched in sudden horror as the first tear spilled over. Angelo spat out a vicious curse in a language I was vaguely familiar with. The demon magic Indigo had tied to her soul told me it was foul and spoken in an infernal tongue. Almost in response, more tears started welling up in my eyes. God, this was just so… so… humiliating!

Angelo’s arms suddenly clamped around my waist. My tears soaked into the soft fabric of his button-down. After a moment of hesitation, his hand came up to stroke my hair.

“Don’t cry,” he said, making soft shushing noises more appropriate for a cat than a person. Still, it was cute to watch him try in his own clumsy way. “I guess Taliyah and Fifi were right. I should have called. I should have told you what happened. I just didn’t want to worry you. You had such a horrible day yesterday and…”

I leaned away from him slightly, staring up into his wide, slightly manic eyes as he babbled. It wasn’t like him. He stopped talking when I leaned in and brushed a quick kiss over his mouth. It was the easiest way to quiet an incubus.

Angelo leaned toward me for a moment, eyes darkening with need. My skin felt tight, desire pooling low in my belly from just that point of contact. I was still mad at him, but at least I was getting answers. If I let him ramble, I’d never follow the conversation.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Angelo sighed. “Something happened to me last night. Because of that, I couldn’t get to the office for our date.”

“What happened to you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. All I do know is that I was trying to make alternate plans when I got jumped.”

“Jumped?”

He nodded. “Someone hit me over the head with a bottle.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“I don’t know who smashed the thing over my head, but they did something to me. I woke up being towed off to jail, and by the time I got back to the house, you looked exhausted. I didn’t want to make you more miserable than Rodney already had.”

For a few seconds, I stared at him in confusion, my mouth slowly parting in horror as the reality sank in. I could sense Angelo’s sincerity. I knew he wasn’t lying. If he wanted to cheat and justify it, he wouldn’t have told this story. I could back it up with Taliyah and his sister, who had apparently known about this since last night. Even if Angelo hadn’t called me, surely one of them should have? I deserved to know why he’d stood me up.

I socked Angelo in the shoulder.

“What’s that for?”

“Not telling me! I was worried sick! I didn’t know where you were or what you were doing. Because your sister had a client, I would have understood a last-minute cancellation. But not telling me you got hurt? That’s not okay, Angelo! I need to know these things. I thought we were friends!”

“We are.”

“And if you were ever thinking we could be more…”

I stumbled over the word. It felt like saying it might shatter the peace we’d formed.

“If we’re dating, I need to do better,” he said quietly. “You’re right. If you’d kept the same thing from me, I would have been furious. We have to take care of each other. I’m sorry, Lydia.”

Despite my efforts, the stinging tears flowed freely. My eyes ached, my temples throbbed, and my cheeks were more salt than skin from all the crying. I couldn’t find the words to express the doubt, guilt, humiliation and fear that had fermented in my gut since the night before. It all overflowed the moment the emotions hit critical mass.

“It was Rodney,” he finally blurted.

“What?”

“In the office. I saw him and Andrea there when I tried to set up for our date. Seeing him pissed me off. I was going to tell you about it in the morning.”

“Did he attack you?”

He shook his head. “No. He looked too pathetic to be the one who hit me, and as far as I know, he can’t shapeshift. Whatever it was, it wasn’t recognizably human.”

“I don’t understand,” I said again.

I didn’t understand a lot about Angelo, specifically this non sequitur.

Angelo released me, one hand going to the back of his neck in an automatic motion, rubbing it sheepishly. If I hadn’t known him, I’d have accused him of putting on an 'aww shucks' act to avoid the doghouse. But the look wasn’t practiced. It was awkward. He looked almost as uncomfortable as I felt.

“Rodney was in the office,” he said with a sigh. “I wanted our date to be there, Lydia. I really did. But from the sounds of things, Andrea was in the middle of trying to make a sale with Fifi.” He paused. “So, I wasn’t able to set the scene for our date. I’m… sorry.”

A sigh escaped me, and I sagged back into his arms, all my anger gone. I felt a little silly. Of course, Angelo hadn’t wanted to risk his job. Sex in his office was a little transgressive but still fun. Not to mention what had happened to him after. And here I was, upset at him because I hadn’t gotten to jump his bones last night, and the doubt made me insecure?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I asked.

Angelo winced. “I think Rodney or his girlfriend might be moving here.”

Well, damn it. This new community I’d surrounded myself with was one of the few positives I’d had since this whole mess began. I didn’t like the idea of my lousy ex creeping in to infect another thing in my life with his presence. I couldn’t exactly order Fifi not to sell to him or to Andrea, though. That was probably several shades of illegal, and the chief of police was nobody I wanted to cross.

“You should have texted me.”

“I know. But he’d already ruined your morning. I didn’t want him to spoil the evening, too.”

That was almost... sweet. Angelo hadn’t been ducking out because he thought I needed a few rounds in the gym before I was tolerable. He was trying to spare my feelings and failing spectacularly at it. Still, I had to ask.

“So it wasn’t because…”

I gestured down at myself. I thought I looked cute in the slacks and turquoise blouse. I’d even found a matching ribbon to tie my hair up with.

His eyes narrowed. “Because of what?”

“It’s not because I’m not… you know, not what you want?”

“You think I canceled because I didn’t want to have sex with you?” he asked in a low, deadly voice. He actually sounded offended.

I gestured down at myself. “I mean, I’m not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, Angelo. You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings. You could have hotter. Younger.”

“I want you,” he insisted.

“And I don’t get that!” I raged, all the humiliation from the night before and my own tortured sense of self-esteem making themselves known. “Why? Is it the chase? Because at some point, you’ll get bored with me. I’m not a soulmates kind of girl, but I want... more than just some meaningless fling. More than just waiting for you to get tired of me.”

Angelo moved in one of those too-quick movements, pressing my back to the nearest shelf. The edges bit into my shoulders, but I didn’t care. The edge of pain, his proximity, the sheer presence of him filled my head with such a vengeance that my knees nearly buckled.

“Yes, I like chasing you,” he said. “I’m a predator. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But I’m not going to get bored, Lydia. I can’t tell you why, and it sounds insane, even to me, but I...” Angelo hesitated. He didn’t say the word I was hoping for, but there was something there. “I care about you. It’s absurd to even say it, but it’s the truth. And if you ever imply that you’re unworthy again, I’m going to make sure you don’t stand straight for a week.”

My heart tried to pound right out of my ribcage, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that my underwear had evaporated on command. There were a lot of things I could have said to his statement. A lot of things I could have done.

But what actually came out of my mouth was a quiet, pleading, “Promise?”

He seized me by the nape of the neck in reply, planting a maddeningly soft kiss right on my mouth.