More Than Fiends (12 page)

He paused. “Where's your dog?”

“Inside, sleeping off a popcorn binge.”

“God, Cassie.” He sat down as soon as I scooted over on the swing. He handed me a napkin and one of the giant rolls, then took a bite of the other one. “Man,” he said after he'd chewed and swallowed. “I really missed these.”

I wasn't talking. Too busy eating. Not too busy to look at him, though. In the moonlight, his dark hair shone, and his pale blue eyes almost glowed. He was so close to me I could feel his body heat, and it was really spiking my own, let me tell you.

“I missed you, too,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“I did,” he argued. “Always wondered what you were up to.”

I took another bite. Hey, he's the one who brought me the cinnamon roll. He couldn't really complain because I wanted to eat it, right?

“How's Thea?” he asked after another minute or two.

“Not speaking to me,” I said on a sigh.

He grinned. “Yeah? Still?”

“She's not real thrilled with you, either.”

Now he looked insulted. “What'd I do?”

I started to tell him, then thought, nah. He wanted to be a parent? Let him get a peek at the dark side, too. “Ask her.”

“I will,” he said, but he sounded worried.

“Logan, not that I don't appreciate the sugar rush, but why'd you come here?”

He looked at me hard for a long minute, then said, “To do what I should have done this morning.”

And then he kissed me. Sitting on my front porch, cinnamon roll icing all over the damn place, he kissed me like he had that long-ago summer.

It didn't take me long to remember why I'd been so crazy about him.

The swing creaked and groaned as his arms came around me, and the bakery bag rustled between us. His lips were warm and soft, and his tongue was still damn talented. When he finally pulled back and looked at me, I could have sworn I saw stars dancing in the air.

When he left me sitting there a minute or two later, I was too stunned—and, okay, yeah, too stirred up to be able to walk straight. So I just sat there in the moonlight and thought about the past and the present and the still-hazy future.

 

I had some great dreams about Logan that night, but in the morning, I had to put hormones on hold and struggle back to reality. After all, I had my meeting with Devlin Cole to deal with. I put on my serious business suit—blue one this time—took down my Coach black bag and stepped into black heels that gave me an extra three inches of height. My hair had turned out great; I wore just enough makeup to look civilized and, for good measure, a little spritz of demon liquid in lieu of perfume. Oregano smells good, so what the hell: If demons were out there, it wouldn't hurt to smell like their worst nightmare.

Gripping the bid Thea had worked up before she went all Bad Seed on me, I got in the Nissan and drove to Magic Nights. I wasn't too worried about Thea's strange attitude to the demon population. After all, she was a kid. There was plenty of time to convince her that demons were dangerous—not a minority needing protection.

Actually, I was more worried about my response to Logan the night before. I had been so sure that I was over him, and then the second his mouth touched mine,
boom
. All good intentions went right out the window. I swear, sometimes even I don't understand me.

I parked the dreaded Nissan-boring-car and straightened my suit jacket. This time I went straight to the business office entrance, upstairs at the back of the building. Devlin was expecting me, and I wanted to get this job sewn up. Then I could separate business and pleasure and start planning for the big date.

“Ms. Burke.” A woman who looked like a supermodel pushed her desk chair back and stood up to greet me. “I'm Serena Sands, Mr. Cole's personal assistant.”

“Um, hi.” So cool. So smooth. Of course, watching the woman walk across the room had reduced me to less than my most confident self. Although, in my defense, I'm pretty sure Jennifer Aniston's ego would have taken a hit if faced with this chick.

She smiled, and I swear her teeth glinted like in a cartoon. She was at least six feet tall, with long, silvery blond hair, enough boob for three healthy women and legs that looked to be about five feet of her total height.

God. Just call me Cinderella.

“Mr. Cole will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thanks,” I said and flashed her a smile I hoped was bristling with the confidence that was deserting me.

Then she sniffed and made a face.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Wonder Woman said, shaking her head and smiling again. “Not a thing.”

The door to Devlin's office opened, and a youngish guy with a stringy goatee walked out. He shot me a look, then ducked his head and hustled past me like I was the IRS chasing him down for an audit.

I watched him for a second, wondering why he looked familiar. Then I realized he sort of looked like the guy who'd crashed into my car at the bank the other day. But as soon as I thought it, I dismissed it. Lots of young guys had those ugly-ass goatees (which always looked to me like the guy couldn't grow a real beard, so he was doing the best he could), and besides, what were the odds my VW killer would be here in Devlin's office?

A second later, Devlin stepped to the door and smiled, and I confess I wasn't doing much more thinking. He swept one hand wide, inviting me inside, and then he shut the door behind me.

Alone with Devlin.

Woo-hoo.

He gave me a smile and escorted me to the chair in front of his desk. “It's good to see you again,” he said—and, wow, his voice really had an amazing timbre to it.

Sunlight splashed over the dark green walls of the huge room, and my heels clicked on gleaming wooden floors. His desk was massive, and I was really hoping this wasn't a case of male compensation.

“Thanks,” I said. “Um, who was that guy who just left?”

Why did I ask? Couldn't tell you.

“Oh.” He frowned slightly. “Frank. He's a bartender here.”

I nodded.
See, Cass? Perfectly reasonable.
Ridiculous to think my car killer would be here, anyway. So. Back to business.

“You brought the bid?”

“Yes,” I said and laid the manila folder on his desk as he took his seat opposite me. “You'll see that it's a very fair price for the job you want done. We're fast. We're bonded. And we're very good at what we do.”

“You don't have to sell me,” he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers against the folder he hadn't even opened yet. “I've asked around. Clean Sweep is very popular in La Sombra.”

Pride had me sitting up a little straighter. After all, this was my baby. I'd built my business up the hard way, client by client, relying on word of mouth from satisfied customers to keep me growing. And it had worked. With this contract, it would be working even better.

Up until now, all of our customers had been residential. But if we could prove ourselves with Magic Nights, we could expand into any number of the businesses in town. Heck, Carmen could hire six or seven of her cousins.

“Don't you want to look at the bid?” I asked, anxious to get this deal sewn up.

“Of course,” he said, “but I'm sure it's fair.”

“That's trusting of you.”

“Not at all. As I said, I researched you thoroughly.” He sat forward, leaned his forearms on his desktop and stared me in the eye. “I like what I've discovered.”

Well, color me happy. I let loose a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and slumped a little in my chair.

“Thank you,” I said. “Good to know.”

He smiled, and my insides did a gleeful little two-step. The man had some serious magnetism working for him, and I was pretty sure he knew it, too.

“So, if I hire you, are you still willing to go to dinner with me?”

Hell yes. But I didn't think it was smart to be quite so eager, so I said, “And if I wasn't?”

His lips curved again. “Then I'd have to seriously rethink hiring you. Because if there's a choice, I'd rather see you personally than professionally.”

Whoa.

Okay, he was way past a master's in flirting. We're talking doctorate at least. “Then let me make it easy on you,” I said. “I'll still go out with you.”

“Then you're hired.”

“Just like that?”

“Is there a problem?”

No. No problem. But he hadn't even looked at the bid that Thea had burned brain cells over. The bid I'd worried over and thought about and fretted over turning in. “You still haven't looked at the bid.”

He sighed, flipped open the manila folder, glanced at the neatly printed-out estimation of labor and service, then slapped the folder shut again and looked at me.

“You're hired.”

I blinked. Okay, then. “Well, I like that you make up your mind fast.”

“I have,” he said and stood up, walked around the desk to me and helped me to my feet. “About a lot of things.”

Oh boy. Just being this close to him was setting off brush fires in every corner of my body. He bent his head to mine. Closer, closer. Wow. I had been in the longest sex drought of my life, and now all of a sudden, two different men wanted to kiss me, two days in a row. How slutty was I? Never mind. I really didn't want the answer to that question anyway.

Oh, I knew this was so unprofessional. I should have stopped him, but I wasn't a dummy. I moved in, too, closer, closer. God. He smelled so good. Like…

“What is that perfume you're wearing?” he asked and pulled his head back.

“It's, um…”
Think, Cassidy, think.
Couldn't really tell him it was demon spray, now could I? “Jasmine,” I said quickly, thinking the demon hunter would get a kick out of it if she knew.

He frowned a little. “Doesn't smell like jasmine.”

“You don't like it?” Mental note. Do
not
spritz before big date. My body was humming, but clearly, there wasn't going to be any fun and games at the moment.

He gave me another smile and shrugged. “It's…different.”

Hooking my arm through his, he walked me to the door, then opened it for me. “I'd like for you to start at the club next week. Monday?”

“Great. We'll be here. First thing in the morning.”

“Good. I'll have keys messengered to you this afternoon.”

This was great. A terrific job, a great-looking man who wanted to take me to dinner. Everything was perfect. Except for the whole demon thing. And my car. And Logan. And, oh yeah, Thea. Well, perfection was overrated anyway, right?

“And I'll see you Saturday night?” His voice was low, husky, and sent a shiver of expectation rattling around inside me until I wouldn't have been surprised to hear my knees knocking with the force of it.

“Saturday.”

“Seven?”

“Seven.”

Then I left, and on the way to the parking lot, my brain kept up a steady stream of criticism.

You kissed Logan last night.

He kissed me, I argued with my rotten conscience.

And you almost kissed Devlin.

Not my fault.

How is it not your fault that you're lusting after two different guys?

It just happened!

You're going to have to choose between them.

I don't do decisions. Besides, why do I have to choose? Why couldn't I want both of them? Was there a law nobody told me about? Some decree that you were only allowed to fantasize about one man at a time?

I didn't think so.

Men do it all the time, I argued silently. Nobody tells them they have to take one woman at a time.

That nasty little voice reminded me why.
That's because we're way more civilized than they are. They can't help themselves.

You know what? I was tired of being civilized. Maybe it was time to let loose my inner barbarian.

Trouble…

I stopped dead, shook that voice right out of my head and said aloud, “A little lusting never hurt anybody, so get off my case, okay?”

An old man hunched over his shopping cart looked up from sorting his cans and bottles and said, “What'd I do, lady?”

“I wasn't talking to you,” I snapped, then handed him a five-dollar bill before marching to my ugly rental car and driving home with my radio blasting high enough to drown out that annoying little voice.