Truth or Demon

But since the girls had told her about Killian’s disastrous love affair, her mind seemed to be skittering all over the place. To her own lost love. To losing hopes and letting go of dreams. She rarely allowed herself to consider what might have been. There was no point. But Killian’s story had triggered those thoughts.

Yet, as much as she thought about her own past, she spent even more time thinking about Killian. Had his losses changed him? Made him the kind of callous guy he seemed to be now?

No, callous wasn’t the right word. He was more tactless than outright unfeeling. Did that sort of thoughtlessness stem from hurt? She didn’t have an answer, but that didn’t keep her from mulling the idea over and over.

He could be quite nice, which made her think that maybe his moments of insensitivity weren’t the real him.

And much to her dismay, all of her musings seemed always to return to one place. How good looking he was. His tall muscular build. His broad shoulders. His amazing golden eyes. His disheveled hair. His mouth, how it looked when he smiled, when he’d been eating that cinnamon roll.

She moaned in frustration as, yet again, his lips appeared in her mind, but this time, to her utter consternation she found herself imagining how those lips would feel against hers. Smooth and strong, moving over her.

She jumped as a clattering sound of something, many things, falling on the floor rained down behind her. She turned from the pantry and her heated imaginings to see lentils scattered all over the vinyl checkerboard floor.

“Satan is not pleased.”

Killian stepped farther into the room, skirting the cat, which was still perched on the back of the reclining chair, but this time not because he was afraid the animal would attack. But because it was talking. With his coworker’s voice.

“Vepar?”

The cat actually rolled its one yellow eye. “I thought we’d already established that.”

“What … what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Vepar countered, the movement of the cat’s lips somehow looking remarkably like the expression of the demon himself. Although, in his normal form, he was tall, lanky and had two eyes. But he did have bad teeth—so maybe that was it.

“It’s a long story,” Killian said.

The cat/Vepar lay down, arranging himself in a sphinxlike position. “Well, I’m here via a cat. I think I have time to hear it.”

Killian nodded, then much to his humiliation shared the story of how he’d been conjured by a group of teenage girls and was stuck here until he could find Poppy a boyfriend.

Vepar sighed, which sounded remarkably like a purr. Although Killian didn’t think in this case it was a sound of pleasure.

“So get this female mortal a boyfriend ASAP. And get your ass back to Hell. You’ve got damned souls backing up, and frankly I’m sick of picking up your slack. You know how Satan gets when his business isn’t running smoothly.”

Yes, Killian did. And there was a reason Satan was known as, well … Satan.

“I’ll have this finished right away,” he assured the possessed cat. Even though he wasn’t sure how exactly he would accomplish it.

“Darn it,” Poppy grumbled, realizing that in her preoccupied state she must have set the bag of legumes too close to the counter’s edge.

Proof that she did not need to be letting her thoughts go in such ridiculous and inappropriate directions as the attractiveness of one Killian O’Brien.

She’d just reached for the broom when a knock on the apartment door stopped her. Picking her way through the mess, she went to answer it.

“You forgot it again, huh?” she said as she opened the door, expecting to see Daisy. Her sister was terrible about remembering her key.

But instead of Daisy, she was greeted by a tall, muscular male. The object of her recent fantasy. And, she added, a wee bit irrationally, the cause of the current mess in her kitchen.

“I must have,” Killian said with a slight smile, “because I don’t seem to recall what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you were Daisy.”

He nodded and neither spoke. Then he seemed to realize he should probably say something just at the same time she did too.

“I was—”

“Did you—”

They both snapped their mouths shut. After a moment, they both laughed.

Poppy couldn’t help noticing how deep and musical his laughter was. As attractive as the rest of him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I just couldn’t hang out in that apartment anymore. So I thought I’d come see what you’re doing.”

“Ah,” she said. “The girls getting to you with their practicing?”

She suspected there was more giggling than practicing. Three teenage girls—there had to be lots and lots of giggling. And boy talk. And fashion talk. And hair talk.

Yeah—totally no man’s land.

Killian frowned, confusion flashing in his golden eyes. Then he said, “Practicing. Yes.”

She smiled at his muddled expression. “I know it’s hard to tell, but they are getting some work done, aren’t they?”

His brows drew closer together, but he nodded. “Yes. Some.”

“Good.” She stepped back. “Come on in. I can’t say there’s anything terribly exciting happening here, but if you are looking for some quiet, I can offer that.”

“Thanks.” He stepped into the room, his body not touching hers as he passed, but she swore she could feel heat radiating over her. Her body tingled as if her skin was finally feeling warmth again after being cold far too long.

Taking a deep breath and willing her silly body and mind to behave, she gestured toward the kitchen. “I was just making some dinner.”

As he strolled into the room, she recalled the lentils scattered all over the floor like some makeshift booby trap à la Home Alone.

“Oh! Be careful—” she called, but it was too late. Before she could get out the rest of her sentence, Killian had not only walked into the legumes but also slipped, sliding on them like they were marbles rolling under his feet.

With a loud thump and a grunt, he landed on his rear end.

“Oh!” Poppy cried and hurried as quickly as the slippery mess allowed to his side.

“Are you okay?” She kneeled beside him.

He didn’t respond for a moment, then to her surprise, he chuckled. “I seem to spend a lot of time on the floor in this place.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just getting ready to clean this up when you knocked.”

“Sure,” he said with another amused smile.

She braced a hand under his arm to help him up, but as soon as her finger connected with the warm, hard muscles under the cotton of his shirt, her body reacted, and she forgot what she was trying to do. All she could focus on were her nerve endings, each one sizzling to life as if every cell in her body suddenly became aware of him and only him.

Killian tensed too as if he felt that same strange sensation snapping between them.

She lifted her head, realizing just how close his face was to hers. The lips from her fantasy were just inches from hers. Instantly, she jerked her hand away from him, her sudden action causing her to lose her footing and slip too. She joined him in the scattering of legumes with an “oof.”

But unlike him, she didn’t stay down. Hopping right up, she tried to hide her awkwardness.

“I’d better sweep this up,” she said, rushing toward the broom, slipping once, but catching herself before she