Page 2 of Forked Tongues Are Fun
He glanced toward the darkest part of the living room the TV light couldn’t reach. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
Like being a serial killer? I kept my gaze glued to his while warning lights buzzed in my head. This had been my worst idea ever. I had no idea what might be lurking in the darkness where he’d peered, but my gut screamed for me to run. Fast.
But if I didn’t do this, Asa was deadtonight. If there was even the slightest chance that what hid in the shadows was a bunch of sleeping kittens, I had to carry this plan out. Asa was my brother, my last relative I actually gave a shit about, the only person that made life worth living. Two years after our mom left us, Dad’s last words to us were “Count your blessings” before he took off too. Well, my blessings were at zero without Asa.
Forcing a breath, I pulled up my spine and widened my smile. “I promise it will only take a minute of your time.”
“Well, then...” The man’s dark eyes lit with the glow of a new TV commercial, and the effect was predatory. He jerked his head for me to follow him to the dining room, tussling a lock of dark hair loose across his forehead. “This will definitely be the most interesting conversation about vacuums of the day, I’m sure.”
I nodded politely, and because I was desperate and certifiable, I wheeled the vacuum toward him, deeper into the house. As I drew closer, he seemed to gain in height. He held my gaze as I stepped into the light of the dining room, seeming to drink the entirety of me in and peer into my soul without moving a muscle.
He held out his hand. “Name’s Calhoun.”
What the what? Not Salvador, like the letters in his mailbox stated? What was happening here? Whatever it was, I couldn’t let my unease show, because as an actual saleswoman, I wouldn’t have checked his mailbox.
“Rose,” I lied and shook his hand. His touch triggered an unexpected pulse in my lower stomach that made no fucking sense. It must’ve been just nerves. “It’s nice to meet you, Calhoun.”
He offered a knowing smile. “Likewise.”
A breath touched the side of my neck from behind me, making me jump. I whirled. There, just a kiss away, stoodanotherman.Twoof them when there was only supposed to be one. Outsmarting two people would take a lot longer.
I lurched back as the second man grinned salaciously. A shock of blue hair hung in his eyes of the same color, and he seemed to have lost his shirt. The TV flickered blue across the dips and curves of his perfect skin, seeming to light an arrow down the patch of hair that disappeared underneath a pair of jeans. His nearness hijacked my heartbeat and double-timed it.
“A vacuum saleswoman? Really?” he said. “Why are you really here?”
I fought to control the tremble that chased up my back. “I’m here to tell you all about the numerous benefits of the Isbon vacuum.”
Twin sparks of humor lit up the blue inside his eyes. “Sold. We don’t have one.”
“Yeah, we do, Tavis,” Calhoun said dryly behind me.
“Well, I’ve never seen it, so let’s get started.” The blue one—Tavis?—settled his hand over mine on the vacuum’s handle and gently released my fingers from it, his touch a warm thrill. His gaze dropped to my mouth and wandered slowly back up again. “Shall we?”
“Let’s.” My voice sounded much too shaky for the calm focus I needed to get Asa—and myself—out of this alive. I balled my fists, mentally gathering my wits.
He turned and wheeled the Isbon toward the dining room table, and the ink spread across his shoulders rooted me to the floor. A dragon tattoo, as detailed as I’d ever seen, rippled its blue scales with each of his muscle’s movements.
A dragon shifter tattoo. He was adragon shifter. I’d expected a key, and instead I’d found one of the child-sacrificing fuckers. Or maybe two. Was Calhoun one as well? Had I just stumbled into a dragon’s den? Dragon shifters were known for their power, their quick tempers, and their extreme protectiveness over their treasure troves. And I was about to steal from them. Me, a human, stealing from two dragon shifters? I was delusional.
But what were they doing in Mission Hill hiding inside a house with the blinds closed instead of flaunting their wealth and power and striking fear in humans? I thought that was what all dragon shifters did. That, and pluck children off the street.
Barbaric, power-hungry stovetops. I hated the whole species.
Tavis pulled out a chair at the table, his naked arm muscles flexing, and turned to me. “Coming?”
Next to him, Calhoun’s dark eyes narrowed, as if analyzing every thought I’d ever had.
“Of course.” I pried myself forward and pretended not to see Tavis’s offered chair. Instead, I chose one next to the back wall. That was the last time a dragon shifter would sneak up behind me, thank you very much. “Do you know what kind of vacuum you have right now?”
Calhoun and Tavis shared a look as they settled themselves in the seats next to me in a dragon shifter sandwich. Shifters were rumored to play with their food, but this was ridiculous.
“The regular kind, I guess.” Calhoun pushed up the sleeves of his black Henley to his elbows, revealing thick, corded forearms, his gaze never leaving my face. Leaning back in his chair, he knocked his knee against mine.
“I’d like to hear about yours,” Tavis said, propping his elbows on the table.
“If you make a joke about sucking, I swear I’ll end you,” Calhoun warned him.
Shrugging, Tavis made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “I’m of the opinion that a good sucking joke at the right time usually goes over well.”
