It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,60

I wouldn’t laugh. Just like Gideon, I failed. Miserably.

“Ladies,” I shouted, swallowing back my giggles. “Get off of my guest. NOW. Gentlemen, quit trying to chew his ear off—not literally, thank God. He can’t understand you anyway. Wait. Can you?” I asked Gideon.

“No, I can’t,” he said with an expression of amazement on his face.

At least I thought it was amazement. It might have been horror. Right now, I couldn’t tell and didn’t have time to figure it out. I still had squatters to reprimand.

“People, this behavior is far more appalling than you freaks leaving random body parts around the house and showing up in my bathroom. Well, the bathroom thing was pretty bad… but this? This is unacceptable. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Would you have behaved like this when you were alive? My guess is no. Death is not a good time to become a hussy or a car salesman. Do you feel me?”

They all looked up at me and then dropped their heads in remorse. Only six heads hit the floor. The number could have been far worse. At least thirty dead gals had been hanging all over Gideon. It was a damn good thing I’d bought so much superglue.

The Grim Reaper’s mouth was open and his expression was one I couldn’t decipher. Whatever. He didn’t have to live with these people—I did.

Gideon needed to say what he came here to say and then leave. He already had a broken nose and sore junk. I was pretty sure he wanted to get this over with as well.

“Anyone who just lost a head needs to pick it up and keep it with you. I’ll glue it back on later,” I said, eyeing my dead posse. “There’s a TV in the kitchen as all of you already know. Survivor is on now. Quite honestly, I should take your TV privileges away after the hideous behavior you displayed, but it’s a new episode and I’m aware of how much you enjoy the show.”

Gideon was still open-mouthed. Unfortunately, it was sexy. Even dazed and confused the asshole was sexy.

“I’m going to count to three and all of you had better disappear. Am I clear?”

Everyone grunted and nodded. Thankfully, everyone also looked contrite. Manners were important. Gideon was handsome, but this was absurd.

“One. Two. Three.”

They all evaporated.

“Where did they go?” Gideon asked, still slightly dumbfounded.

“The kitchen,” I told him. “To watch Survivor. They like reality shows.”

Gideon stared at me like I was insane. It was kind of rude considering I’d just saved him from being sexually assaulted by a bunch of dead women, but whatever.

I knew I wasn’t quite right in the head. If he thought so too, so be it.

“Say what you need to say and then leave,” I told him, keeping my distance. My instinct was to check his injuries—not his balls, his nose. I really did feel bad.

He said nothing. He started to several times, but nothing came out.

“Are you in pain? Should I get you some aspirin?” I asked, feeling even worse than I already did. Maybe getting racked was an ongoing terrible process that made speech difficult. I’d never seen anyone get racked before and I didn’t have brothers. My knowledge of getting racked came from the movies. It was usually kind of funny and well deserved on the big screen. Tonight? Not so much.

“I have never felt so alive in my entire existence,” Gideon muttered, sounding shocked and shaking his head.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Isn’t that a rude question?” he inquired with a grin.

“Only if you were a woman,” I replied, enjoying myself. The Grim Reaper was not only pretty to look at, he was fun. And I was clearly crazy to be having these thoughts.

“You shouldn’t ask questions that you don’t want the answer to, Daisy,” he said cryptically, removing the ice pack from his face and putting it on the coffee table.

His nose didn’t look too bad—just a little swollen. Gideon still looked like a male model. The imperfection made him even better-looking somehow. Maybe his nose was just bruised and not broken. I still felt awful, but not quite as awful.

“Fine. I won’t,” I replied. “You came here for a reason.”

“I did,” he agreed. “Just wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome.”

I laughed. “I said I was sorry. What else do you want?”

“I’ll let you know shortly,” he replied with a look that made me regret the question.

My stomach fluttered and I was pretty sure I was blushing. Again. The man was