Ruby: A Reverse Harem Romance: Jewels Cafe Book 6 Read online

  Even thinking about her got me half-hard. Which pissed me the fuck off. Darlene was a cheating bitch. And a costume thief.

  I tried to shove the memories of her away. It had been almost six months. I should be over it by now.

  I turned and gave her half my back, real mature-like. But I didn’t give a damn.

  Migs had my back, like always. Fucking bro was the best. “Get outta here before I call the cops and tell them you stole his suit,” he growled at her.

  “I just want to talk—”

  I stood up, suddenly not at all interested in my hot dog. I tossed it in the trash and walked in the other direction.

  Migs had a few words with my ex before he caught up with me standing near a Mercs costume club table. Two hot chicks sat at the table, and a line of guys were waiting to sign up.

  To distract myself, I tossed my arm around Miguel’s shoulder. “Betcha I could hook you up with one of the girls up ahead. Which one you want?”

  He sighed and shrugged me off. “Not gonna happen. Waste of time.”

  “It might not be.”

  “The last four girls you’ve tried to hook me up with have had serious issues.”

  “Just because they didn’t know much about video games—”

  “Or politics, or physics, or common sense—” Migs added. “No. Seriously. Besides, look how messed up you still are about Darlene. I don’t need that. I’m good.”

  I was gonna argue that the dude went through more pocket pussies than an adult toy store, but he pushed through the doors that led outside.

  “I’m going home, man,” Migs said. He gave me the nod and started to walk off.

  I stood there, under the harvest moon on the steps of City Hall, debating if I wanted to follow him. Part of me wanted to go home. But the other part wanted a fucking drink. Maybe five. Why the hell did Darlene have to show up? And where the hell was Parker? We needed to do something about Migs. My best friend didn’t know it, but demons were real. Souls were real. And atheist Migs had unknowingly traded away something he really shouldn’t have. To some stranger!

  I rubbed my forehead in frustration as I wondered what the fuck I was gonna do. I walked over to Main Street. Problems like this definitely called for alcohol.

  I hurried past the graveyard; for some reason, it gave me the creeps. Maybe knowing demons were real had just made me more freaked out about everything.

  Up ahead, some other people in costumes were obviously doing what I was. Heading to Vee, the “it” place in Silver Springs to go clubbing. They were parting and walking around something—I hoped there wasn’t some weirdo passed out in the road. I grabbed my phone in case I needed to call Parker.

  But there wasn’t a drunk passed out on the sidewalk.

  When the crowd parted, I swear my heart stopped.

  Standing there on the cobblestones, looking like the innocent picture of every wet dream I’d ever had, was an angel.

  A literal angel. Complete in a cosplay costume that was one of the most perfect I’d ever seen.

  Holy motherfucking shit, this girl was fine. How had I missed her at the convention? She didn’t look like any character I recognized. This girl looked like a fucking Victoria Secret model—wings and all. Except she wore a cute, conservative but form-fitting little white dress that stopped just above her knees, instead of just a bra and panties. Thank God. Otherwise, I might have to punch out the Captain America who turned around to check out her ass.

  My eyes scanned her from top to bottom. This woman had dark brown hair, so dark it almost looked black. It fell in waves that caressed her breasts, which drew my eyes. I’d always been a breast guy. But then I glanced back up at her face. It was like getting smacked by a two by four. She had grey eyes and these pouty lips that I just needed to bite.

  Fuck, but the expression on her face. It was so perfect. So sweet and sad. I wanted to gather her into my arms and just—I don’t even fucking know—protect her. She had these cute little wings on her costume. And they looked so real, too. They must have been hella expensive. They looked soft. I immediately pictured her riding me, naked except for the wings.

  I had to adjust my jeans.

  What was wrong with me? I hadn’t had thoughts like this since Darlene.

  Shit.

  Nope. Not going there. Not gonna let some physical reaction to some woman throw me into misery again.

  I walked forward steadily, determined to do just a polite nod and be on my way, despite my dick heavily protesting that option. Pick-up lines ran through my head. But I tossed them aside. I was not gonna hit on this girl. I was not gonna use the line I’d tried earlier tonight: “Hey baby, I wanna Squirtle on your JigglyPuffs.” I was gonna walk past and that was that.

  But then she started crying.

  And fuck me. My mother would fucking kill me dead if I just walked past a woman crying in the street in the middle of the night. Or ever. I took a second glance at the angel. She didn’t seem to have a purse. Shit—I realized she didn’t even have on real shoes. She wore some kind of soft slippers that made me think of bedrooms. Her. In my bedroom. Shit. Fuck. Focus.

  She turned and walked down the street.

  Like a creeper, I followed.

  I scanned Main Street as she started down it. Had some fuckwad dropped her off? Had her boyfriend just left her like this? A gorilla pounded inside my chest, fucking furious. I had to force him down and swallow before I could walk up to her and ask, “Miss, do you need some help?”

  She looked up at me. She blinked those big doe eyes. And I swear if she’d been a semi-truck barreling towards on me, I would have just stood there and let her mow me down. I was captivated.

  “Um, help. Oh, yes. Maybe. That might be good.” She dabbed at her eyes and then stared at the tears on her hands.

  Was she in shock? Shit. I didn’t know jack about first aid. “Do you need my phone to call someone?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket. As I did, my shirt rubbed against my abs. They were cold. And that’s when I realized this woman must be freezing. Girls were always cold right? My mom was.

  I yanked my shirt off and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on.”

  Those wings were even more expensive than I thought, because this woman retracted them. I didn’t even see her remote control. Shit, she must be a die hard cosplay fan like me. That thought alone got me breathing hard again. Hot nerd? God, yes. Not to mention the sight of her swallowed up by my shirt. The gorilla in my chest pounded against my ribs, growling that we should claim her.

  But I just handed over my phone, electricity shooting up my arm when our fingers touched. I had to tamp down on a nervous laugh.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, I guess about shocking me. I didn’t mind. Not at all.

  But then she stared at the phone for a second. Like she wasn’t quite certain what to do. “I’m sorry,” she handed the phone back to me. “You clearly have a beautiful soul, but I just don’t know what to—”

  The sound of glass breaking hit our ears, startling me. I turned to look. It was coming from a shoe store.

  A shadow moved inside.

  Shit!

  My blood started pounding and I let that angry gorilla loose. He insisted I move between this woman and the shop. I took a step forward to block her with my body. My skin felt every pinprick of cold. My senses went on high alert. We were witnessing a robbery.

  I reached for my phone as the figure inside flipped on a flashlight, revealing a chunk of her face.

  Her.

  The robber was a woman.

  The woman in the angel costume sighed. “Holly.” She stepped around me.

  I freaked. I put out my hand to block her. Was she insane? You couldn’t walk into a break in! Who knew what kind of weapons the person inside had? “What are you doing?” I growled.

  “I’m going to go see what’s wrong with her.”

  I grabbed the angel’s hand. And even though she was freezing, and I was freezing, when I touched her, I didn’t notice t
he cold anymore. Every part of me zeroed in on her. She had to listen. I had to make her understand. This was crazy-ass dangerous. And I’d just met her. But she was gonna get hurt, so I had to stop her. “You can’t do that,” I warned her. “We should stay out here and call the police.”

  “The police? Oh, right. Humans do that.”

  Whoa. What? If she’d have used a dump truck and poured ice down my back, I’d have been less surprised. Electric realization buzzed through my veins as I realized I wasn’t talking to a girl from the Cosplay Convention. I took a step away. I was talking to an angel. A real angel. I’d fantasized about fucking a heavenly being.

  Me—someone who’d traded part of his soul to a demon.

  Shit.

  I dropped her hand like a hot potato.

  “I’m sorry!” I didn’t know what to do. Should I bow? Prayer hands? Shit—could angels read minds? I looked up, checking the sky for lightning bolts.

  The angel just smiled at me and said, “It’s alright. Everything’s alright.”

  Was she talking to me? Was she reassuring me? Because she could read my mind?! Dumb fuck that I was, my hands flew to my head. Like that would stop my thoughts from leaving it.

  The angel turned back to the shoe store and tilted her head, exposing a long expanse of graceful neck. “I think Holly’s just having a meltdown. Again.”

  Another crash resounded.

  “Who’s Holly?” I protested. Angel or not, someone was trashing that store.

  “My targe—My employee,” she sighed.

  That was her store? The angel owned a shoe store? Why the fuck not—I guess, technically, Miguel and I had a demon for a partner, though he didn’t know it. But an employee trashing the angel’s place? Bullshit. She had to be the nicest boss ever—probably a pushover, being an angel and all.

  “Whoever’s in there ain’t an employee anymore,” I shook my head and unlocked my phone. “I’m calling the cops. That’s vandalism.” But I paused with the phone halfway to my ear. “Holly isn’t a werewolf or anything, right?”

  Maybe I should dial Parker instead. He was only a tech demon—so he said. He couldn’t rain down hellfire or anything. He could only take out every phone in the tri-state area. But he always “knew a guy.”

  The angel smiled, and I swear it sent a shaft of light right through me, warming me up. My dick perked up and I had to look away.

  Don’t think about her boobs. She’s a fucking angel. Don’t think about them.

  The angel sighed and pulled off my shirt, handing it back to me. “This might be my chance to change things. I better go take care of her,” her voice had this soft, breathy calm tone. Like this was no big deal.

  I shook my head. If someone trashed my store, I’d rend them limb from limb. Or, at least, I’d rip them a new one on social media while Parker had his guys do their thing and never ever told me the details.

  “I’m Ruby, by the way,” the angel said. “And thank you for offering to help. It was amazing. Very brave of you, considering you’re human and you know about werewolves. You’d make an excellent warrior.” And then, the most gorgeous woman—celestial being—I’d ever seen, fluttered her wings and flew off over the top of the building. I guess she was gonna go through the back door. Unlock it and surprise the person inside. Because she was brave. The most perfect woman I’d ever met, and she’d just flown off.

  Of course, she did. And I let her. I wasn’t sure if it was because Miguel’s awkward silence had rubbed off on me. Or because I knew Parker was a demon and he handled shit just fine. Ruby was an angel. A real-life fucking angel. She could handle this.

  But I didn’t leave. I stayed rooted to the spot. Not because I was creeping. I mean, what if Ruby got attacked? She might need backup. I scanned the road for something I could use to break a window. There was a fallen tree branch nearby, so I scooped that up.

  My heart thrummed. I’d never been in a fight before. What if Ruby was wrong? What if that girl Holly wasn’t alone in there? What if she’d brought friends? She’d said I’d make a great warrior.

  My heart lifted but my brain bitch-slapped it back into place. I was only a warrior in World of Warcraft.

  I stared at the store, which started to glow with golden, shimmering light out of nowhere. It sure didn’t come from the light bulbs.

  The crashing stopped and, as my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I saw Ruby hug a blonde girl. They sank down on this plush white rug.

  The girl started crying in Ruby’s arms.

  Guess she didn’t need back up.

  I tossed my branch aside. The wind picked up and I buttoned my shirt, getting a little whiff of cinnamon. I pulled my shirt up to my nose and inhaled. Ruby smelled like cinnamon rolls—sugary, sweet goodness.

  Fuck.

  I looked up at the sky. It was probably sacrilege, but I wished God had let me play the hero. Just this once.

  But then a gust of wind blew past me. A tall, pale man with black hipster glasses materialized at my side. “Parker,” I said.

  The tech demon I’d traded my soul to looked me over and said, “So, what’s up?”

  I swallowed hard and turned away from Ruby and The Perfect Fit. Because she was perfect, and I was tainted by a deal with a demon.

  I would never deserve a woman, let alone an angel, like that.

  But I could make damn sure Migs didn’t suffer the same fate.

  Chapter 3

  Ruby

  Holly cried in my arms for hours as I held her and rocked her, huddled on the plush, furry white rug of my showroom. I dimmed the light of heaven so strangers couldn’t see in. I decided Holly would want privacy. So I held her in the dark

  “I’m sorry, Ruby. I just got so mad,” she whimpered. “So fucking mad.”

  “Shh,” I caressed her hair. I kissed the top of her head, like I’d seen parents do to kids on billboards. After I did it, I waited to see if she’d react—get angry or offended or something—but she just clung to my arm and hiccuped. I knew not to mention people’s smells (learned that the hard way after I told a woman she smelled like she’d been working outside for three days) but Holly didn’t smell good. She smelled like that bottle of Robitussin that Amethyst gave me when I caught a cold a few weeks ago. Like that, but sweeter. The smell leaked from her pores and breath and surrounded us. Part of me worried that Holly’s body was broken after she’d drunk that much cough medicine. The other part of me saw the tears leaking from her eyes and the way she clutched at me. That part knew that Holly wouldn’t handle it well if I suggested the hospital.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” I asked, tentatively. I’d never had to ask my last miracle target anything. He’d been in his seventies, living alone, and just blurted everything out. Holly was different. She spent more time looking at her phone than me. It made it twice as hard to understand what was going on in her head. I knew she was hurt over Maddie’s death. But she never talked about it.

  My question just set off another round of crying. I guess it was the wrong thing to ask.

  My back ached and my dress was soaked with tears by the time her crying subsided. Whatever was going on inside her was a battle; a different kind of battle than those I’d fought before. It was a bit unnerving. I couldn’t see the bad guys. But it was also … very profound. Because eventually, Holly told me what was going on. Apparently, she didn’t hate me. Or trash. She hated her parents.

  “They cleared out Maddie’s room and didn’t even ask me! Didn’t tell me. My mom just said it was too hard to keep looking at everything. Close the fucking door, bitch! They got rid of everything. Donated it all. Then my boyfriend, Joe, called me whiny. So I broke up with him. And now he’s unfollowed me on Insta,” Holly started coughing from her tears. I patted her back for a second, but the coughing didn’t stop, so I got up and got her a glass of water and brought over the Kleenex box, which ended up half empty before she was done blowing her nose and wiping her tears.

  I tried to imagine what it would be l
ike if I lost my brother, John. Angels were immortal. Unless of course, they warred with demons. John had been hurt once in a war. I’d flown to be by his side. I’d been afraid. Very afraid. But I didn’t know what came after that fear, because I hadn’t lost John. He’d been fine. I was at a loss.

  “I’m so wasted,” Holly moaned as she downed the glass of water, spilling half of it on herself. I grabbed a towel and helped her mop up. Physical messes I could deal with. But this?

  “It looks like she never even existed,” Holly sniffled; her throat raw and sore as her head rested on my shoulder. “They erased Maddie.”

  “People aren’t pencils,” I said as I stroked her blonde hair. “You can’t erase them.” I nearly brought up the “s” word but the manual was very clear. Establish trust first before talking about souls or the afterlife. Otherwise, I’d end up coming across as a prophet. People didn’t tend to believe prophets so … I shut my mouth, hoping that Holly was starting to trust me. If trust was measured in tears, then she was. But again, the manual was vague on trust and what it meant to humans. Angels just trust God. We have no choice. But humans …

  Holly gave a little snot-infused laugh. “Not literally erased. Sometimes you say the dumbest shit. But from our house, they did erase her. They took everything of hers away. They’re the worst parents alive. I can’t even—”

  Ohh, now, that was in the manual. Finally! Something I could work with! I nearly did one of Amethyst’s fist pump things. Apparently, according to roll number sixty-seven on the scroll, resenting parents was a teenage tradition that dated back centuries. It was best handled with something called ‘commiseration.’ Which meant I was to show her sorrow or pity. Yes! I could do that!

  So, just like the heavenly manual instructed, I said, “I pity you.”

  Instead of making Holly smile and feel better, that made her sit up and look at me with a furrowed brow. She swiped at her nose as she studied me, her eyes curious under her long, fake lashes.