JINXED: (Karma Series, Book Two) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Don’t sink my ship.

He practically carried me ahead of him into the already full office. He stepped in front of me and plowed through the group, to grunts of annoyance, until we took up the prime real estate of the northwestern corner, in between the filing cabinet and the trash can.

Harold’s office could be described as cozy and not due to the decor. We all barely squeezed in and there was quite a bit of maneuvering to get the door shut.

“This is my office! You can’t all be in here!” Harold was pressed against
the
door. The exit that would lead to retirement, with its inch of glowing light that escaped along the bottom, which was currently blocked by all the bodies in the room.

No one answered or bothered to leave, either. Even with his lousy personality, it was hard not to occasionally feel bad for Harold. I’m sure he wanted to be liked. Didn’t everyone? Even more so, he wanted to remain in control, but that seemed to be slipping away slowly with each passing day.

“Why are the cats in here? I’ve got nowhere to stand!” Bernie, the leprechaun, yelled at Kitty, from where he was perched on the desk. He acted like it was an inconvenience, but I noticed he took every opportunity he could to stand on something and attain more vertical leverage.

“He’s got a crow in here.” Kitty pointed to the bird sitting on Crow’s shoulder. “If the crow stays, my cats stay.”

And of course, even though my best friend was Lady Luck, I was running on very short supply of it myself. I was up close and personal with Fate, the very person I was avoiding. It was hard to pretend to not see someone who was standing almost on top of you, so I focused my eyes on his chest. Maybe not a good idea, since I became slightly fascinated by the way the shirt mounded and hollowed as it followed the line of his pectorals.

Now here’s someone who was naturally lucky in life. No one got to look like that without a little helping hand. He smelled almost better than he looked. It was an indescribable scent that reminded me of walking through a forest on a beautiful fall day, and he threw off a comforting heat like standing next to a toasty fire after you’d spent hours in a blizzard. Everything about him was a lure, and I didn’t want to be the catch of the day.

He moved in closer, forcing me further into the corner and shielding me as more people jostled about. I tried to resist the urge to take in a good whiff of him but failed. I wondered if he ever smelled bad. Maybe if he got all sweaty.

No, that wasn’t a good thing to think of either; I’d seen him all sweaty, as he covered my body with his. There was good sex, and then there was that night. It had been something different altogether. It hadn’t been long, or with any crazy foreplay, or anything else I could put my finger on. And yet, it had been more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. Like he’d fit me perfectly, moved at just the right pace and the most perfect angle. He’d felt so damn good that it must have been Cupid’s love spell pitching in. Nothing else made sense.

It made me wonder why we were hiding from Cupid when he could produce those types of results. Shouldn’t we be greeting him with tea and cookies? Come on in and hand me over a blissful night of sexcapades?

I knew what my problem was; I couldn’t think of that night without remembering the rest. We’d both still been winded when he’d so callously asked about my plans, wanting to know if I’d be hanging around.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew why he’d asked, and that perhaps he’d had some noble notion behind it, or thought he did. He was telling himself he was doing the right thing by pushing me out the door, but it wasn’t his call. When you truly care about someone, don’t you spend even a minute thinking about alternatives? Now, I wasn’t saying I wanted to stay, but it was a big insult to get past. No, I’d be remaining right here, in this cramped office, with the rest of them.

“We need to talk.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Sure,” I replied, as causally as I could. 

“After we get out of here, we’ll go back to my place.”

His place? Oh no, that would
not
be happening.

“No good. I’ve got a job in about an hour.” I needed to stop smelling him.

“Then you have time.” His hand came and rested on my back like it belonged there. My spine seemed to agree since it arched as if trying to make his hand more comfortable in its spot. My reflexes and baser self were clearly happy to please. Unfortunately for him, my pride didn’t feel as accommodating.

I jutted out the arm closest to him, which dislodged his hand. He retaliated by pushing his hand through the opening my now bent arm made and splaying it on my lower back again and tugging me closer.

“Why do you keep touching me?” My words were stilted. So much for casual.

“Why are you getting so touchy about me touching you? I just didn’t want anyone to hear us.” His voice was husky and did funny things to my nerve endings.

I was thwarted. If I continued to say anything about him touching me, it would look like I was being overly sensitive. The only thing left to do was act like it wasn’t a big deal.

His hand remained where it was, with my begrudging consent, burning a hole into my back. But I wouldn’t make it welcome. In an effort to force the arch out of my spine, I ended up hunched over.

No one seemed to notice anything amiss with us, as everyone was shifting around uncomfortably. Elbows were starting to fly and feet were being stepped on as everyone fought for more floor space.

“We can talk but it’s going to have to be tomorrow. I don’t like to run late and I have to stop and get some polish for the guards beforehand.” My eyes landed on his bicep. He looked like he worked out but I wasn’t sure. No matter what I ate, I didn’t gain a pound.

But seriously, who had arms like that and never lifted a weight? And his face somehow always had that perfect amount of stubble, as if it had stopped at the precise length to accent his manliness and never grew a millimeter longer. He’d hit the manly-man jackpot.

“You can get polish for the guards tomorrow.” He was getting impatient and I didn’t like the bossy tone of his voice. We didn’t work together anymore. Everyone else here might think he walked on water, but in my world he looked like a huge iceberg about to sink my ship. I’d struggled enough to get my bearings and I was finally starting to tread water. I had no plans to let him sink me in the middle of the ocean with his perfect stubble and biceps.

“No, I can’t. I told them I’d get it today. If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m barely going to make it to the shore—I mean the store, before my job.” Did he even own a razor?

His hand rubbed over his jaw, drawing my eyes again. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know. “Do you shave?”

“No.”

I
knew
it!

I slipped then and made eye contact. His eyes were strange. Sometimes they seemed darker for being so deep set, and sometimes, like right now, they appeared ridiculously pale, with specks of light green in them. One thing stayed constant though, they looked at me as if they knew me on the most basic level. In truth, he did.

No matter how much I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t. It was as if time stood still when it came to him. It was a month ago, and I was lying next to him after a short but intense bout of sex when he dumped a cold bucket of water on my orgasm afterglow, asking when I planned to leave.

Even still, when we locked stares there was still something between us that made my breathing labored and my heart kick up a beat. I knew it and so did he. Of all the men in the world, why did I have to have this connection to him? Maybe we weren’t special though. What if he had this connection with every female he came into contact with? It was more likely the case.

I remembered what he’d said to me.
I don’t do doe eyes
. He was probably used to girls acting like fools. And this was the problem; I couldn’t look at him and not remember what had happened. When I’d slept with him, besides Cupid’s spell urging me on, I’d thought I wouldn’t remember any of it in a week. I was going to be out of this office and this crazy life. There weren’t supposed to be awkward moments, or hurt feelings, because I wasn’t supposed to still be here. If I’d only known.

“You keep trying to dodge me and it’s not going to work,” he said. His fingers pulled me closer to him but I wasn’t sure he knew he was doing it.

“Oh, but I think it has.” My voice had a snarky edge that I knew would aggravate him.
See? I’m not one of your little doe eyed girls.

“When did you start running from things?” His tone dropped slightly, and there was a taunting edge in it that hadn’t been there a minute ago.

Even now, his hand on me heightened my awareness of him. I knew what he wanted, for me to join his crew of men. Couldn’t happen. Too much exposure and I
might
be doe eyed.

“When the person nagging me wouldn’t stop beating a dead cat.” My voice rose enough that Kitty, who was a couple of bodies over, turned her head in our direction.

“Hey!” Kitty said, clearly alarmed and only hearing the tail end of the sentence when I’d raised my voice.

“Sorry, Kitty. I didn’t mean that literally. No one is beating a cat.”

With Kitty seemingly appeased, I turned back to Fate and concentrated on keeping my voice lower. “You want me to be up front with you? I don’t want to have this conversation because we’ve already had it. Weeks ago. What I said then still stands.”

I’d told him I wasn’t going to work with him and I didn’t see why it would be a good plan now. I didn’t care if there were more bad guys out there like Suit, the thug I had killed. Unless forced, I wanted nothing to do with the situation. Back in another life, I used to tell my clients that if they wanted to live a clean life, they needed to stop walking around in mud piles. It was time to follow my own advice.

I tried to infuse my voice with a confidence that left no room for argument. “
Nothing
has changed.”

His head bent until his forehead was almost touching mine. “Exactly my point as well. Nothing has changed,” he hissed.

Our whispered conversation was disturbed by Cupid yelling outside the door. “Hey! Can you let me in? I’ll be good. I promise!”

We all froze as eyes shifted from one to another, trying to determine who would be our spokesperson. The least likely candidate took the bait.

“No!” Bernie yelled back. The small statured leprechaun had a disproportionately deep voice but a bluntness and lack of tact that was exactly what you’d expect when you saw his permanent grimace.

“But I just want to visit.” Cupid’s voice sounded childlike.

Eyebrows rose across the room like a Mexican wave going around a baseball stadium; we all were at a loss for what to do. His entreaty tugged at my emotions, as well as everyone else’s, but I had to remind myself that he played dirty.

“He won’t leave. Someone is going to have to go out there,” Crow said. “
Someone
is going to have to sacrifice themselves and take one for the team.”

“Literally,” Luck said, as she buffed her red nails against her low cut blouse.

“I say we send you out.” Bernie was looking directly at Luck. “You’ll sleep with anyone. No harm done.”

“I will not!” Her hand shot to smooth down bed head hair.

“Even now you stink of cologne, and you’ve got a hicky on your neck.”

Luck threw some of her dark hair in front of her shoulder. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” Bernie, quite a bit shorter than Luck—even standing on the table—started to wave his arms at her, trying to shove her hair out of the way. She pushed him away and that set off another round of shoving throughout the room.

Harold tried to jump over Death, who was between him and his desk. “My papers! You’re scrunching my papers!”

This shoved Kitty toward the Tooth Fairy. One of her cats, which had been sitting on her shoulders, screeched and lunged toward the Tooth Fairy, who started shrieking.

“People!” Murphy held up his hands and shouted over everyone, interrupting the squabble. “I will do this.
I
will go out there.”

All movement ceased and every pair of eyes in the room swung to Murphy.

“No, Murphy, you can’t!” Luck started into action and clung to his arm as if he were about to throw himself into Mount Vesuvius.

“Don’t fret, my dear Luck. I’ll be okay.” His chin held high, he was playing the stoic hero to perfection.

“Murphy,” she cried.

It was very hard not to mock this overly dramatic demonstration, but I held back. It wasn’t from kindness, though. If Murphy was willing to fall on his sword—quite literally—I certainly didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I was still recouping from the damage the last curse had created.

Maybe if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be so acutely aware of Fate on every fundamental level.

Banging started on the other side of the door, and then we heard Bobby, one of the three Jinxes, yell, “What’s going on in there? Let us in!”

“Who’s with you?” Crow asked.

“It’s just us, you dirty bird man. We told Cupid to take a hike. Now let us in before we pluck all the feathers off your crows!” This was followed by a youthful chorus of laughter from the other side of the door. If anyone could scare off Cupid, it would be them.