Page 48 of Speak of the Devil
“Was I that obvious?”
The twitch turned into a full-blown grin. “Kind of. I suppose I get it. You’ve never met anyone like me before, and your brain isstill trying to wrap itself around what working with a part demon even means.” He paused there before adding, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. That demon blood doesn’t matter as much as you think it does.”
Delia planted her hands on her hips. “Well, except for the part where it allows you to teleport and banish souls to Hell and influence the roll of a die or the flip of a card. Am I missing anything?”
“Oh, maybe a couple of minor details.” He glanced away from her so he could look past the sliding glass doors into the yard, which wasn’t the waterlogged mess she’d feared it might be. Even when they got that much rain, the thirsty ground usually drank it down in a matter of hours. “But none of that is a big deal. Hell, I barely made enough at the gaming tables this weekend to pay for the kitchen remodel.”
Which was still probably at least fifty or sixty grand. She found herself smiling despite everything. The way he earned his money now was very different from the career he’d probably once envisioned for himself, but Pru’s poking around had provided enough details to show that the Lockwoods had lots of money, and his casual attitude toward it told Delia that he probably had no idea what it was like to exist without a nice, fat cash cushion to protect him from some of life’s harsh realities.
To be fair, she really didn’t know what that was like, either. Her mother had been a successful real estate agent for going on thirty-five years, and her father had worked as a civil engineer for the city of Las Vegas for almost as long. They weren’t super-rich, but they were definitely comfortable.
“Oh, is that all?” she responded with a grin that matched his.
She was a little surprised to see his smile fade. “I suppose I just wasn’t feeling it.”
They hadn’t known each other long enough for her to be able to accurately read Caleb’s emotions, but she couldn’t shake thefeeling that something had happened, something that seemed to have rattled his composure, if only a little.
He certainly wasn’t coming across as cocky as he usually did.
“Anyway,” he went on. “I can start looking at some materials, sure.” He paused there, and now he looked a little more chipper, the familiar glint returning to his dark eyes. “Any chance you’d want to go slab shopping with me?”
Damn, he’d just found her hidden weakness. While she enjoyed looking at cabinet designs and roaming through tile and flooring showrooms, what she loved most was going to the warehouses where they kept all those huge, gorgeous pieces of stone, whether granite or marble or quartz, or more exotic materials like soapstone and Dolomite.
“Um, maybe,” she hedged, and he flashed her another grin.
“You know you want to,” he said. “And I’ll buy you lunch as an extra inducement.”
“You don’t have to do that — ” she began, but Caleb only shook his head.
“I don’t have to, I want to,” he cut in. “Besides, the house is mine now, and I feel like we should celebrate.”
When he put it that way….
“All right,” she said. “Slabs first, lunch afterward.”
“I like a woman who has her priorities in order,” Caleb responded, and although she knew he was mostly joking, she wasn’t quite sure what to do when his gaze met hers and held there for a second or two.
That look told her he would be just fine if their relationship became a little something more than merely professional.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Life was complicated enough without throwing hook-ups with a demon in the mix.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Chapter Fifteen
Overall,Caleb thought Delia was adapting to the situation fairly well. True, in that moment when their eyes had met, he’d seen her doubt and awkwardness, and understood she was in no way ready for their relationship to be anything other than professional, but that was okay.
The thrill of the chase was half the fun.
She took him to a warehouse that had what seemed to be thousands of slabs on display, both inside the showroom itself and out in the back lot as well. Getting his first look at all that stone, he wondered if maybe he should ease up on his all-black vision and instead get something that would contrast with the black cabinets he wanted. There was such a bewildering variety of colors and patterns, he didn’t quite know where to look first.
But Delia seemed to understand what he wanted more than he himself did, guiding him to a slab of black soapstone whose veining was a soft beige color rather than white, an unusual combination that he thought would work well with the white oak floors he already had planned.
“One slab will be enough?” he asked, mostly because he hadn’t seen another like it and wanted to be certain he wouldn’t have to worry about running out.
“Oh, sure,” she said, looking unconcerned. “This stuff goes farther than you might think. You’ll need something different for the bathrooms, though.”
Well, he wasn’t worried about that, mostly because he’d already decided that he wanted each one to have a distinct personality, even if he intended to maintain the same color scheme of black and neutrals throughout the house. He wanted something sleek and modern and hip, a design that would pay homage to the mid-century inspiration of the house without being too slavish about trying to copy any original styles too closely.
