“Uh-oh.” Dake reached across the table, stilling her arm before she brought the next scoop of ice cream to her lips. “Please, Lula, whatever you do, don’t let those wings of yours pop out here in the diner, okay?”
Lula looked from left to right at all the other diners in the small restaurant and smiled. “I promise to be very careful,” she whispered. “Although,” she paused to tongue a fluffy dollop of whipped cream from her spoon, “It won’t be easy.” Her delighted, closed-eye moan drew the attention of diners at the next table.
Dake thought Lula would have looked a bit more average, normal, less tempting wearing one of Zeb’s big rainbow-striped T-shirts and a pair of his jeans—fuchsia with rhinestone studs—belted tight at her waist and rolled several times at her ankles. But no, Lula was just as luscious a confection whether she wore everyday clothes several sizes too big or her nifty little see-through nymph tunic.
“I still don’t understand why you don’t think I’m crazy,” Dake told his brother. “Especially after what I told you about Lula flying around the room,” he added in a cautious whisper.
Shrugging, Zeb tossed off Dake’s concern with a dismissive wave. “A little lackluster, close-minded and conventional, yes. Crazy? No. The universe is full of seemingly inexplicable things, Dakin. It’s all those curious and mysterious little moments along the way that make life so brilliant. Besides, you know I’ve always been particularly open-minded when it comes to the paranormal and supernatural.”
“Is that what I am?” Lula asked, swiping the tip of her little pink tongue across a speck of fudge sauce on her lips. “Paranormal and supernatural?”
She was so damned appealing, Dake steeled himself not to lunge for Lula, throw her across the tabletop and have his way with her right then and there. The thought made him groan as his cock rammed against the interior of his fly. He sipped from his coffee, hoping to drown the lusty urges from his insides.
“Well, darling,” Zeb said, patting Lula’s hand, “as far as we’ve known until meeting you, nymphs and Cupid and all the other gods and goddesses of Olympus were purely mythological. Like something out of a storybook. A fantasy, fairy tale. Something mystical.” He tossed off each word with a dramatic flit of his hand. “In my book, Lula, that qualifies as paranormal and supernatural.”
“What are we going to do with her?” Dake said, knowing damned well what he’d like to do to her, but shoving that idea to the back of his mind as they tried to figure out where Lula belonged.
“Help her find Cupid, of course,” Zeb said matter-of-factly.
“Did you hear what you just said?” Dake asked. “That’s nuts, Zeb.”
“Why? It’s what she wants, Dakin, now that we’ve explained that I’m not actually the Cupid.”
“It’s true, Dake,” Lula said, swallowing another spoonful of her sundae and getting that faraway orgasmic look in her eyes again. “I must find Cupid and my classmates so I can join them. I really can’t risk getting a failing grade on this assignment.”
“But there’s no such thing as Cupid,” Dake whispered out of the side of his mouth to his brother in protest.
“Mmm-hmm. Just as there’s no such thing as nymphs who sprout wings when they climax,” Zeb offered with a smirk. “By the way, Lula, dear, has anyone ever mentioned that you have a simply marvelous singing voice? That crystal clear tone you sang out several times while you and Dakin were in my apartment earlier was just exquisite. It resonated through my entire shop. The flowers absolutely loved it. I could see them drinking it in like it was morning dew.”
His elbows propped on the tabletop, Dake dropped his head into his hands and groaned. He was really having one hell of a time trying to accept all this otherworldly stuff—while it seemed to just roll right off Zeb as if it were a common, everyday occurrence. Of course, that’s because Zeb had always been a bit off the beam anyway, what with his supposed personal communications with plants and flowers and all.
“Oh thank you, Zebulon. Like my wings, my song of elation only emerges in the midst of an orgasm.” A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t think I ever remember it sounding so sweet as it did when Dake’s tongue—”
“Lula, shhh,” Dake cautioned, a finger to his lips. “Not so loud.”
“Oh…sorry. It’s the same for most nymphs, Zebulon,” she went on more quietly. “It’s the only time I seem to be able to reach that particular note, although I do love to sing other times as well. I find it refreshes my entire being.”
“How fascinating,” Zeb said, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his fingers as he studied Lula. “Tell me more. I’m curious to know what sort of songs nymphs like to sing.”
“Oh, there are many types, depending on the mood or occasion. Shall I sing one for you right now?” Lula asked, straightening in her chair and beaming a bright smile. “You won’t understand the words because it will be in the language of nymphs, but I believe you would appreciate the song just the same.”
“Yes, why don’t you,” Zeb said at the same time Dake blurted a solid, “No!”
Zeb rolled his eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to him, darling. He’s no fun at all. Go ahead and sing your little heart out.”
Shielding his eyes with his hand, as if that would help to disguise his identity, Dake sank low in his chair as Lula opened her mouth to sing. He wasn’t the kind of guy who liked being the center of attention and having a nymph belt out in song in the middle of the diner was definitely bound to attract attention.
If this were the kind of place that used bouncers, the three of them would probably be tossed out on their ears as soon as Lula broke into her near-glass-shattering shriek.
The sweet sound that came out of Lula’s mouth was so beautiful, so angelic, so amazing that Dake almost forgot his discomfort as the eyes of every patron as well as the diner’s staff were suddenly upon them. It was a short piece, about the length of the ABC song, Dake figured. But damn, what an impact!
By the time Lula had finished, the whole diner was cheering, with many of the patrons standing and applauding while others engaged in approving whistles.
“That was superb, Lula,” Zeb said, taking her hand and squeezing. “Simply splendid.”
Nodding in agreement and taking her other hand in his, Dake said, “Zeb’s right. I’m no judge of music, but I know a good thing when I hear it and, sweetheart, that was about the sweetest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Almost as special as your song of elation.” He waggled his eyebrows and Lula blushed.
“Thank you both,” Lula said, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “It was my pleasure to share that particular chant with you. I chose it because it is the nymph song of gratitude—most appropriate, because I am truly thankful to you for making me feel so welcome here on Earth.”
“I’ve decided I’m going to make the supreme sacrifice,” Zeb announced with thespian flair, his hand fluttering at his throat.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Dake asked, doing his best not to roll his eyes.
“I’m going to stay at that bleak, sparse box you so glibly call an apartment so that you and Lula can stay at my place until she finds Cupid and the others in her group.”
“Hell no,” Dake said, shaking his head with conviction. “There’s no way I’m staying in that splashy, gaudy place of yours, Zeb. I’d have nightmares being surrounded by all that glitter and color. Lula can stay at my place.”
“But Dake…I thought you said you loved your brother’s home,” Lula offered.
“Well, I—”
“You told her that, did you, Dakin?” Zeb said, clearly amused as he sipped from his strawberry milkshake while Dake simply scowled.
“I adore your handsome home, Zebulon,” Lula said. “It’s so very generous of you to offer it, but I would not want to inconvenience you. And I would not want to make Dake unhappy either. I would be honored to stay with you in your home instead, Dake.” She smiled sweetly at Dake and his
brother. “Even if it is a bleak, sparse box.”
Zeb tsked. Several times.
“Now what?” Dake said, expelling a noisy sigh and telegraphing Zeb a distinct look of annoyance.
“Nothing. If you want to put your comfort above Lula’s, that’s fine. Except…” Zeb breathed a sigh and went back to nursing his milkshake, coming up for air a moment later to say, “Oh…never mind,” as well as indulging in another series of tsks.
“I hate when you do this,” Dake said. “You’re making me crazy, Zeb. If you have something to say, then just spit it out, okay? Quit beating around the bush.”
“I wish I had my textbook so I could have studied chapter twelve,” Lula interjected, drawing the attention of both brothers.
“What’s in chapter twelve, darling?” Zeb asked, blithely disregarding Dake’s diatribe.
“It’s the chapter detailing Earth vernacular,” Lula explained. “Including the current slang so I could better understand most of what’s being said.” Having finished her sundae, Lula licked the spoon clean and then ran her index finger around the inside rim of the fluted ice cream dish, licking it off with relish. The simple, innocent act had Dake’s cock throbbing. He was becoming a basket case, for chrissakes.
“The words and phrases you use are strange to my ears,” Lula continued, “and it’s sometimes hard to follow the conversation. But I do detect a sense of ill will and that does, indeed, makes me feel very sad. You are both dear, wonderful men and you’ve already come to mean a great deal to me. I don’t wish to be the cause of disharmony between brothers.”
“Nonsense, Lula. It’s not your fault at all,” Zeb said, taking her hand and patting it. “It’s mine. I shouldn’t egg Dakin on like that. I just can’t help it sometimes. He’s so easy.” Zeb chuckled.
Surprised at his brother’s admission, Dake realized he could have worked harder at being agreeable himself. “It’s my fault too,” he confessed, which wasn’t easy. “And don’t worry, Lula, brothers get on each other’s backs all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Lula slanted Dake a curious look. “You get on his back?”
“Figuratively speaking. He means we love each other,” Zeb clarified. “Except that Dakin’s far too macho to just come right out and admit it. Right, big brother?”
“Yeah.” Dake closed his eyes with a sigh and nodded. “Right.”
“I apologize for my theatrics a few minutes ago, Dakin. I simply wanted to point out that Lula would be far more comfortable at my place than yours. And I have a feeling you, dear brother, might benefit from the inviting atmosphere of my pastel pleasure palace, if you know what I mean.” He winked.
“Of course, if you believe Lula would be more apt to spread her wings and sing out in elation in that bedroom of yours with the white walls, few necessary pieces of furniture and little else, then by all means, have her stay at your place instead. And of course…”
After waiting a small eternity, Dake, for whom patience had never been a virtue, said in the coolest, calmest, most patient voice possible, “Of course what, Zeb?”
“Well…” Shrugging, Zeb examined his fingernails, polishing them against his jeans and then buffing again.
While tempted to grab his brother by the shirt collar and shake him, telling him to get on with it, Dake knew it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. There was no rushing him when he was determined to draw something out for effect.
“It’s just that if I recall,” Zeb finally continued, “there are people living upstairs, downstairs and on either side of you. And you’ve complained about the walls being thin. On the other hand, when Cupid’s Headquarters is closed, the only other people in the building will be you and Lula.” He glanced up at his brother with an impish smile. “It’s just something I thought you might want to consider.”
Dake fished his keys out of his pocket, working one of the keys off his ring and slapping it down in front of Zeb. “I accept,” he said, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. “Here’s the key to my place. I still have yours. And, uh…thanks, Zeb.”
“I’m happy to make the sacrifice,” Zeb replied. “As extreme as it is.” Dake noticed Zeb had a hard time concealing his own smile as well.
“Thank you, Zebulon,” Lula said with a bright smile. “There are so many things I love about your home. It’s so full of life. Being there makes me vibrate deep inside.” She pressed on the area of her solar plexus.” It’s quite an agreeable, uplifting sensation.”
The only vibration Dake ever felt in Zeb’s place was when Lula’s sweet little pussy quivered around his cock while they were busy seeing fireworks and stars. But, hey, if Zeb’s apartment made Lula think her insides were vibrating, who the hell was he to be a wet blanket?
“I’m glad you feel it too,” Zeb said, leaning forward, clearly enthralled to have someone to talk to who seemed to share his oddball, new-agey interests. “Somehow I knew you would, Lula. After studying feng shui, the Chinese art of placement,” he explained, “I designed the interior to amplify and accentuate the importance of the mind-body-spirit connection, the yin and yang, the balanced fusion of health, happiness and prosperity.”
“Yes,” Lula said with a thoughtful nod, as if she actually understood Zeb’s bizarre gibberish. “That explains why the sexual union Dake and I shared in your pastel pleasure palace was so ideal, so perfectly blissful.”
“What?!” Dake nearly choked on the last of his coffee. “My brother slaps some pink paint on the walls, throws in a bunch of girly, rainbow-hued knickknacks and, poof, he’s a fucking decorating genius. A vibration guru, no less.” Even worse, although he wasn’t about to point it out and whine about it, now Dake’s phenomenal performance in that garish bedroom was being credited to his brother’s choice of paint.
“Well, shit,” Dake mumbled, his monumental groan tinged with incredulous laughter.
“It appears we have a critic in our midst,” Zeb said to Lula, slanting his hand at his mouth in a conspiratorial manner. “Poor boy’s always been terribly green with envy when it comes to the connection I have with my—”
“Do not,” Dake warned, “let me hear the words inner woman come out of your mouth, Zeb. I mean it.”
“See what I mean?” Zeb muttered to Lula. “Poor Dakin is positively green.”
“And you,” Dake went on, waving an accusatory finger at Lula. “I’ll have you know anything spectacular that happened between us in that bedroom had nothing whatsoever to do with my brother’s silly decorating.” As the din around them dropped off a good decibel, Dake groaned again. God damn. He hadn’t meant to be so loud. A furtive glance here and there had him slinking down in chair again.
“You did tell me you really liked the big mirror on the ceiling,” Lula offered helpfully, clearly without thought to moderating her voice.
At the sound of muffled giggles around him, Dake wanted to slide all the way off the chair and ooze right into a crack in the floor.
Zeb started chuckling. An instant later, he was capturing Dake’s image with his cell phone camera.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dake asked, arms folded across his chest.
“Sorry,” Zeb answered. “The dazed look on your face was just too priceless to pass up.” He leaned over to show Lula the impromptu photo.
“How wondrous. Human technology has greatly advanced since my last visit to Earth,” she said, studying Dake’s picture. “Oh but Dake, you look so forlorn here.” Her gaze left the phone’s image display and locked on Dake’s face.
“I think you misunderstand. I never meant to suggest that your sexual skills were anything other than extraordinary,” Lula said, beaming the sweetest smile imaginable while Dake cringed, shushing her. “On the contrary, never before have I experienced such deeply vibrational—”
“Jesus!” Rendering Lula wide-eyed and speechless, Dake shot up from the table like a rocket, slapping one hand against the table as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket with the other. “Co
me on, let’s go,” he said, leaving enough cash to cover the tab and tip and hustling Lula out of the diner so fast she had to do double time to keep up with his long strides. Zeb’s annoying chuckle brought up the rear.
As the trio stood just outside the popular eating spot, Dake’s gaze roamed over Lula for the umpteenth time that evening. Two middle-aged guys walked past them, doing classic double takes when they eyed the luscious nymph. Dake all but snarled at them.
A trio of buff young twenty-somethings on the other side of the street ogled Lula’s considerable attributes and commenced in a chorus of low wolf whistles and howls. Dake met their unwanted interest with a scowl. When yet another man ushered his date into the diner, giving Lula a lingering, hungry look, Dake groaned. She was like a fucking stud magnet, for chrissakes.
“Where to, brother?” Zeb asked.
“The mall.”
Zeb gasped.
“We need to get Lula some clothes,” Dake explained.
Zeb huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Years, Lula,” he said. “It’s been years since I’ve been able to interest Dakin in going clothes shopping.”
Dake scowled again. He hated shopping. Downright detested it. It was all he could do to drag himself to the grocery store, much less go shopping for clothes. When he needed something, he went online and ordered it, plain and simple. That’s what he’d be doing right now if he could get overnight delivery. He groaned. The very thought of purposely placing himself in the midst of rabid shopping fanatics made his head ache.
“Well, she can’t walk around Portland looking like that,” he reasoned. “And she sure as hell can’t flit about wearing that see-through dress of hers.”
“What is clothes shopping?” Lula asked and Zeb gasped again.
“Oh dear God, don’t tell me you’re a shopping virgin,” Zeb said in joyful disbelief. Lula simply shrugged in response. Zeb looked to the heavens, mouthing what seemed to be a silent prayer of thanks.
“Be still my heart. Trust me, darling, you’re in for the time of your life.” He looped his arm through Lula’s and started walking. “We’ll get you all dolled up, sweetie. We’ll start with some lacy undies, a delicious little LBD, a few precious pairs of high-heeled shoes and—”
Finding Cupid Page 7
