Page 53 of Puck You Very Much

Dax grinned smugly. “With the wings and the bow and arrow, you’ll look like you wanted to bring love to the people. What could be manlier than that?”

“I think if you believe that, you’ve lost touch with your manhood,” Jack remarked dryly.

“At least I don’tget in touch with my manhoodevery night alone in bed,” Dax replied sweetly.

“I want the sword,” Jack insisted, undeterred.

“It’s my sword. Doesn’t legend have it that the devil carries a flaming sword? It fits.”

“Yes, but legend has it that you don’t have a brother—so how important are legends in our case?”

Dax gritted his teeth. “You…”

“Okay, no one gets a weapon!” Lucy interrupted, waving her hands back and forth between them, maybe to break their eye contact. “The costumes alone are enough, don’t you think?”

Too much. The costumes were too much!

Oh well. He’d been through worse. He wouldn’t let a few appendages get to him.

“Now a bit more sinister looking, Mr. Temple…yes, just like that! You should look happy, Mr. West. You’re an angel.”

Dax had never felt so stupid in his entire life. And that included the day he’d gone to a drugstore for Anna and spent half an hour getting advice about tampons and pads.

This—this was worse, though. He was wearing eyeliner and rouge and being told by a scrawny, mustached man to look at the “angel” as if he were his “absolution,” the most beautiful, awe-inspiring being he had ever seen—this surpassed everything. Although, admittedly, it was easy to produce that particular expression—he simply had to imagine he was looking at Lucy.

The spotlights, however, were too bright and radiated unbearable heat. He and Jack were both wearing three-piece suits—Jack in white, he in black, because that was apparently everyday attire for devils and angels—and the layers were threatening to suffocate him. And the damn horns, imbedded in his hair with some kind of clip, were making his scalp itch.

He could tell from Lucy’s face how stupid they looked. The woman who prided herself on always being professional had been fighting a fit of laughter for most of an hour. She might think she was cleverly hiding it, but he could see even from a distance: She was constantly biting her lip. Of course, he was probably a bit fixated on her lips, in general.

“How about lowering your head slightly, Dax?” she suggested, an innocent glint in her eyes. “So it looks like you’re impaling Jack with your horns?”

He was about as keen on that as he was on throwing his favorite hockey stick into the chipper.

“I have no idea what you mean. Maybe you’d better come closer and show me exactly what you have in mind,” he replied dryly. After all, there was no reason why he should be the only one making a fool of himself.

“Sure,” she said cheerfully, grinning broadly. “Not a problem if you copy me.”

Shit. He should have known she wouldn’t shy away from a challenge.

The photographer nodded absentmindedly, muttering that he needed to look at the previous shots. Unfortunately, this gave her the opening to stand on the white drop cloth in front of the screen, hold her index fingers to her head like little horns, bend down, and impale Jack with them like a bull in an arena.

“Something like that,” she announced, poking Jack in the stomach. Jack looked far too happy in Dax’s opinion, despite the wings and gold glitter on his cheeks. “It shows how much fun you have together and that you’ve become real friends.”

“No, it shows that you need a hobby!” he contradicted.

She laughed and straightened up. “You’re embarrassed too easily, Dax. Really.” Turning to Jack, she added, “And ouch! You could have stopped tensing your muscles.” She made a face and rubbed her fingers.

“I didn’t tense them,” he said, astonished.

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Holy mackerel. Maybe it was you, not Dax, who made a pact with the devil?”

Jack chuckled softly. “Just a pact with the bench press, I’m afraid. But you look like you work out yourself, so you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Dax snorted loudly, earning a hostile glance from Lucy.

“What’s so funny about that?” she replied harshly.

Well, he didn’t mean to offend Lucy, but if she was doing any exercising, it was her fingers removing a wrapper from a chocolate bar. She had the butt and hips to prove it. Which was not a bad thing! He liked her butt and hips. They looked like they should on a woman. Perfect for grabbing and pulling against him.

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