I slapped my hand against my chest, hoping to help that chocolate go down but only succeeding in drawing the attention of the other two people in the room. Finally, I managed to choke down the kisses enough to say, “Thea, why don’t you go over to Zoe’s house to study or something.”
She scowled at me. “I finished my homework.”
Of course she had. “Well, do Zoe’s, then. Go.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over a chest that hadn’t developed yet, much to her dismay, and gave her father a wary glance. “I’ll go. But I won’t be far.”
Logan lifted both hands as if in surrender, which ordinarily would have been pretty funny. Today? Not so much.
She turned and flounced through the living room, smacked the screen door open hard enough to bounce it off the wall of the house, then clomped down the front steps. My dainty little princess.
Logan glanced at me. “Who’s Zoe and where does she live?”
I really wished I could lift one eyebrow. I would have. He’d been a father for ten minutes, and he was asking questions?
“Zoe Cohen. Best friend. Across the street.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I’m so relieved that it’s okay with you, Logan,” I muttered and grabbed another fistful of kisses. A few minutes earlier I’d actually been feeling a little guilty. But irritation crowded out that emotion fast.
“No more candy,” he said, striding across the kitchen to whip the bag of kisses out of my reach. “You won’t talk if you’re eating.”
I made a futile grab for the candy, but his arms were longer, and I came up empty. “For this kind of talk, I require chocolate.”
“For chrissakes, Cassie, I just found out I have a daughter. What the hell do you have to be upset about?”
“The fact that you’re standing in my kitchen springs to mind.” Not to mention the fact that despite being royally pissed, I could feel that old flash of attraction flaring up again. Another empty grab. “And there’s the whole stealing-my-candy thing.”
He tossed the candy onto the table, and Sugar followed its movement like she was at a tennis match.
Shaking his head, Logan grumbled, “I would have been here a lot sooner if I’d known.”
“I know that.”
“You should have told me.”
“I tried.”
“Really?” he snapped and fixed his gaze on me as if he was pinning me to a board to be examined later. “When was that? ’Cause I think I would have remembered.”
There was one stray kiss on the counter, and I went for it blindly. My fingers played with the foil-covered candy and then tugged out the stupid little white paper that had absolutely no reason to exist. “I went to your college graduation. Remember that?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, I was going to tell you right then, until you introduced me to your ‘fiancée,’ Spiffy or Sparky or whatever the hell her name was.”
“Misty,” he said, shoving both hands into his jeans pockets. “Her name was Misty.”
“Ah yes.” I nodded but didn’t roll my eyes. And, hey, good for me. “Much classier name. Thanks for clearing that up.”
“You should have told me anyway,” he said and stalked around the perimeter of the kitchen.
My gaze followed him and so did Sugar. The big dog’s nails clicked happily on the floor while she played what she thought was a new game with her new best friend. Me? I stood still and wished he was in Nevada.
“Yeah, that would have gone over well,” I said and walked to the kitchen table to grab a handful of chocolate. “‘Oh, so nice to meet you, Scrunchy. Logan, you’re a daddy. When’s the wedding?’”
“Misty.”
“Whatever.”
While he paced, I unwrapped a piece of chocolate-covered caramel, thanked whatever genius little candy maker had come up with that concept, and stared idly through the back door to the mud porch. Now, my business is cleaning houses, so my house is always clean—almost always—and my windows are always shiny. Usually. Anyway, my point is, while I stared out the upper, glass half of the back door, I noticed something.
Even though the windowpane was clean and nonstreaky, there was a long pattern of extra clean right across the middle of the glass. Frowning while Logan continued to fight his way past Sugar to pace, I thought about that for a long minute, and then it dawned on me.
When crazy-lady Jasmine was there earlier, she’d made me shoot Leo in the head with that nasty-looking stuff in the spray bottle. Some of the liquid had missed poor, smoking Leo and splattered on the glass.
Now, that glass wasn’t just clean, it was damn near gleaming.
What the hell was in that stuff, anyway?
“So you see my position.”
“Uh-huh.” I popped a kiss into my mouth and studied that sliver of extra clean.
“So you agree.”
“Sure. What? Huh?” I swiveled my head to look at him, and he looked way too pleased for my comfort level. “Agree to what?”
“To me seeing Thea on a regular basis.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“I could sue you for joint custody.”
“You wouldn’t,” I said and hoped I sounded way more confident than I was. He could really make things ugly for me. I mean, I owned my own business, but it wasn’t a Fortune 500 company. And he was a cop. Judges liked cops. Plus, I’d sort of hidden his daughter from him for, well, her whole life. That wouldn’t look good.
“I want to know my daughter.”
“You just met her. Good start.”
“Cassie…”
“We’ll work something out,” I said and forced a smile that felt too tight and grimacelike to be convincing, but he appeared to be okay with it.
“Good. Now, how about dinner?”
“Huh?”
“You and me,” he said and walked across the kitchen, stepping over Sugar, who’d given up on pacing because it was way too much like exercise. He stopped right in front of me, and I have to say, he smelled just as good as he looked.
It had been sixteen years since the last time he touched me, and at the moment, all I could think of was, I’m a lot hornier now than I was then. God help me, Logan was even better looking now than he had been then. Which was really saying something, believe me.
Recipe for disaster.
“What do you say?” he asked and reached out to tweak a lock of my hair. “We could go to Tully’s. Get a pizza.”
Sure. Tully’s on the pier. Just where we spent most of that summer. What? Were we going back in time? Was he trying to rekindle things? Or start a brand-new fire?
And why was I hesitating? The truth was, it had been a long time since I’d had a fire anywhere near me. The way I remembered it, Logan had a real knack for fires.
Plus, we were both grown-ups—well, he was, anyway—and neither one of us was involved and—
“God!” I shrieked, pushed his hand away and slithered to one side, scooting past him closely enough that I could actually feel his Mr. Happy all hard and eager in his jeans. “How do you do that? We’re fighting one minute, and the next minute, we’re…not.”
His hand fell to his side, and he shrugged and gave me a grin that made my knees feel all slippery. “Worth a shot. You look really good, Cassie. I’ve missed you.”
“Be honest. Until you moved back to town, you hadn’t given me a single thought in sixteen years.”
He shrugged again, and I watched, fascinated, as his chest muscles clenched and released. Man. He was seriously getting to me.
“I thought about you, Cassie.” His gaze moved over me slowly, and I almost believed him. “Then, when things got so bad with Misty, I started thinking about you even more. Remembering how much fun we had together. How good we were together.”
“I was a kid,” I managed to squeak.
“Didn’t feel like a kid to me,” he said, and now his voice was so soft it was like a caress. “Now I find out you’re the mother of my child.”
“And this makes you horny?”
“I’m a guy.” He grinned. “I was born horny.”
“Well, don’t I feel special.”
He sighed. “I’m still pissed about you hiding Thea from me—”
“I wasn’t hiding her,” I argued. “She’s been right here. Living out in the open and going to school and everything.”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “Anyway, I want you to know I’m still pissed about that, but damn, Cassie, it’s so good to see you again.”
Something inside me did a quick little hop and skip. Hey, so shoot me! I can’t help it if it felt good to have Logan giving me that hot and sexy look again.
“There never was anyone like you, you know?”
My mouth went dry, and my brain short-circuited. But I defy any living, breathing female to think when that close to Logan Miller. Back when I was a kid, he’d been able to turn me into a molten puddle of goo, just watching him stride in from the ocean, water sluicing off his tanned, completely cut body.
But I wasn’t sixteen anymore. I couldn’t just give in to my hormones, no matter how much I wanted to at the moment. There was Thea to think about and how Logan showing up was going to change everything.
“Logan…”
“C’mon, Cassie,” he said and lifted one black eyebrow again. “A pizza at Tully’s. For old time’s sake.”
Tempting.
If I’m gonna be honest, it was way more than tempting. It was übertempting. But the plain, ugly truth was, the last time I’d been tempted by Logan, I was a kid. I could use brainless and romantic as excuses for having sex under the pier with a guy I knew was going to be leaving town to finish college.
Now I’m an adult. Technically. A mom, of a nearly dating-age daughter. So hey, I need to set some standards. Be a good role model.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said. “Which means you’re going to say no.”
I frowned at him. “Just because you knew me back then doesn’t mean you know me now.”
“I’d like to.”
“And I’d like a million bucks,” I quipped and hoped to hell my voice wasn’t quavering. “Looks like both of us are doomed to disappointment.”
He walked toward me, and just to be sure I didn’t go back on my brand-new “role model” resolution, I backed up until I hit the door behind me.
He ran his hands up my arms, and I swear I could actually feel little flames dancing along my skin. Like I said, good with fire. He looked into my eyes, and for a second or two, I saw the boy he’d once been in the man he’d become—and, boy howdy, the combo was really appealing.
He smoothed his thumb across my bottom lip, and it was all I could do not to nibble on it. Oh God, I was so in deep shit.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cassie,” he said and tapped the end of my nose with his index finger. “We’ve got lots to talk about, and I’m looking forward to getting to know my daughter—and you—better.”
He left right after that, and I sort of slid bonelessly into a kitchen chair. Sugar gave me a disapproving look.
“Hey,” I argued, “easy for you to say. You’ve been fixed.”
Chapter Five
So far, my birthday sucked.
Well, semisucked. I still had a shot at the cleaning contract to Magic Nights, unless Devlin Cole called in the next couple of minutes to tell me it was all an ugly joke. My gaze slid to the phone, half expecting it to ring. When it didn’t, I grabbed a couple more kisses, because they were handy and why the hell not?
With Logan gone and Thea at Zoe’s, no doubt complaining about the hideousness of her life, I had a good hour or more to myself. Plenty of time to figure out just what the hell I was doing to so piss off the karma gods. Or time to just grab a beer and forget about everything else.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I stood up, went to the fridge and gave the handle a good yank because the stupid door always stuck. Not today. Well, not entirely.
The door stayed shut, but the handle came off in my hand. “What the hell?”
I looked at Sugar, but she was as confused as I was. Just what I needed. More appliance death. I tossed the stupid door handle onto the table and peeled the stupid door open with my bare hands, giving it a lot of oomph. Too much, as it turns out, since the damn door popped off and crashed to the floor, spilling out half-empty bottles of ketchup, mustard and salad dressing along with a jar of what looked like fuzzy salsa.
Whoa.
The light in the fridge shone out at me, and I reached in to grab a beer. Twisting off the top, I took a long drink, stared down at the door and asked nobody, “Okay, is it just me, or did things take a seriously weird-ass turn here?”
Sugar whimpered and crawled farther under the table, just in case the stove tried to get her next. I was about a minute away from joining her.
“You are the Demon Duster, with inherent strength that will continue to increase.”
“Yikes!” I spun around on one heel of my boring little green pumps, felt it snap off and staggered a little while I caught my balance by grabbing the back of a kitchen chair with one hand and steadying the beer I really needed with the other. The loony tune was back. Naturally. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Jasmine gave me a small smile and widened her nearly black eyes until they seemed to take up most of her face.
I could already see the headlines in the La Sombra Daily News: CRAZY OLD BAT SNEAKS INTO KITCHEN, KILLS KARMICLY DAMNED WOMAN.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” I asked when I was pretty sure my heart was back in my chest where it belonged.
“I never left.”
“What?” She’d been lying in wait for me? And nobody noticed? Not Thea, not Logan? Not Sugar?
I took another long drink of my beer, hoping to cool myself off a little, but it didn’t do much good.
“Some watchdog you are,” I muttered and glared at the dog, who actually had the nerve to give me a “Who, me?” look.
“I cannot leave until I have convinced you of your duty.”
“Duty again. Right.” Okay, no more Ms. Nice Guy. This old lady was about to get a one-way ride to the Happy House. As soon as I figured out a way to put the refrigerator door back where it belonged. Just why the hell had my life chosen today to take a turn for the crappy?
“I’ve been waiting for you to return,” she said and set her ugly vinyl purse down onto the kitchen table. She opened it and pulled out yet another bottle of that spray stuff she’d had on her earlier. “The day of your destiny has arrived, and I’m here to help you accept it.”
“Look lady, I don’t want to be rude….” Actually, that wasn’t completely true. By then, I didn’t really care if I was rude or not. You know, I’m usually a pretty patient person—well, I try. But as I mentioned earlier, my birthday was really sucking, and at the moment, what I really wanted to do was throw myself a pity party. “I’ve got a refrigerator to fix, a beer to drink, an ex-boyfriend to kill, a daughter to soothe and, hey, what’s left of my birthday to survive. I don’t want you here, and if you don’t leave, I’m going to—”
What? Call a cop? Yeah, because that wouldn’t be too embarrassing. Help, a hundred-and-fifty-year-old woman broke into my house and is holding me at spray-bottle point. Great idea. Besides, call a cop and it would be just my luck for Logan to show up.
Fine. I didn’t have a threat handy. But I could forcibly walk her bony ass out the back door and into my car, where I would strap her in—she should be used to that feeling—and take her back to Mixed Nuts Central. I walked around the end of the table and made a grab for her, and the old woman jumped five feet in the air.
Straight up.
I kid you not.
Impressed into momentary speechlessness, I could only look at her as she landed in a crouch, then stood up again, smoothing one gnarled hand down the front of her dress. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.
“Does the Olympic committee know about you?”
/>
She blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m here to explain your duties. To give you the recipe for the demon elixir. To guide you as you rid the world of—”
“—demons. Right.”
“You don’t believe.”
I did an eye roll. “Duh.”
She sighed again, like I should be riding the short bus to school. Waving one hand at the refrigerator door lying on the floor, she pointed out, “You see your strength is increasing.”
“Bad hinge.”
“Why do you refuse to listen?”
“To what? Stories about demons and secret potions? Are you crazy?” I shouted, then stopped, listened to myself for a second and said, “Never mind. Of course you’re crazy. I’ll just call the Hotel Screw-loose and see if they’ve got your room ready.”
She muttered something that sounded like “I’m too old for this shit.” But old ladies with blue/gray hair didn’t cuss, did they? Still, no point in pushing her over the edge. Because frankly, if she was this bad on the edge, I didn’t want to have to deal with her once she went over.
“You seem like a nice crazy person.” That’s me. Ever tactful. “But I don’t believe what you’re saying. Who the hell would? Even if I did, I still wouldn’t be interested. I’m too busy for a destiny. I’ve got a life, and let me tell you, it’s already pretty crowded.” Not that I actually had a life, but certainly not the point at the moment. “I’ve got enough responsibilities, thanks. I don’t have time to save the world. Besides, I don’t even know how to fight.”
There. Calm. Reasonable. Even the crazy old lady was bound to understand now.
I headed for the phone to call the mental ward, but before I got there, Jasmine charged me. She had neat, sprayed-down, blue/gray hair, enough saggy skin to make two old ladies, no boobs to speak of and orthopedic shoes. But she snarled and raced at me as if there were a Metamucil sale and the last bottle was right behind me.
I, of course, being a legendary (hah!) Demon Duster, destined to save humanity, shrieked like a big girl. Cut me a break, okay? It’s not like I was attacked regularly by crazed senior citizens—or anyone, for that matter. Then, something happened. I can’t explain it. But all of a sudden, I knew what to do.
More Than Fiends Page 5
