A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis - Robyn Peterman Page 0,34
each time I mind dive into the dead, I gain new super powers.”
“That has to stop,” Gideon said flatly. “The mind diving. You could have died last time.”
“I’ve advised the same,” Heather added.
“For the time being, yes. I’ll stop,” I said with a raised brow.
No one was going to tell me what to do except me. I was a grown woman and old enough to make my own decisions and my own disastrous mistakes. While I appreciated their concern and took their advice seriously, they were not my keepers.
I was my keeper.
“I need to speak with Michael,” Heather said, grabbing her purse.
“I know not of whom you speak,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.
She slapped herself in the forehead. “My bad, Miss Shakespeare. I need to talk to John Travolta,” she amended. “Better?”
“Much,” I replied.
“Do you have anything you want me to tell him?” she asked, heading for the door.
“Nope. Anything I want to tell him, I’ll say to his face,” I told her.
“That should be fun,” Heather commented.
“A freaking riot,” I agreed with a humorless laugh.
“Alrighty then,” she said. “Don’t you guys do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“And what exactly won’t you do?” Gideon inquired, walking over to the couch and scratching the dogs.
“Nothing,” Heather said, walking out the front door with a parting laugh.
“That certainly leaves a lot of options,” I said.
Gideon glanced over at me with an expression that made me forget how to breathe. “It most certainly does.”
Chapter Eleven
Having the talk was horrifying.
Having the talk with someone who was a gazillion years old was downright bizarre.
Everything up till this moment had been amazing. We’d made out like teenagers then I’d filled him in on what had happened while he was gone.
I told Gideon about the luncheon, the aftermath with Missy and the alarming talk with Birdie. Like Heather, he’d never heard of a Soul Keeper. Could a Soul Keeper really exist if the Grim Reaper and the Arbitrator between Heaven and Hell knew nothing of it? Was that possible?
Everything was possible.
Even the dreaded talk…
“So, I think we should get a few things out of the way before we go any further,” Gideon said, pulling me onto his lap.
Gideon’s physical beauty still threw me at times. His lips were sexy and swollen from our massive couch make-out session and his shirt was torn. No one should look as good as he did. My body tingled from head to toe and I was positive my hair looked like I’d been electrocuted. However, my lust-addled brain wasn’t working well enough for me to care.
The man was created for kissing.
“Right,” I muttered, pulling my shirt down and straightening my clothes. “Birth control?”
“Do we need it?” he inquired.
I was sure I turned bright red, but I held his gaze. I was forty and this was a responsible, albeit unsexy, conversation we were having. It wasn’t as if this would be the first time I’d had sex. I’d been married for a long time. Of course, Steve was gay, but that was beside the point. “Yes to the birth control. I mean, I’ve never been regular, but I still get my period. And now that I know ancient Immortal swimmers can make a baby, I think we should take precautions.”
“Ancient?” Gideon inquired with a chuckle.
“Bad word choice,” I mumbled, wondering how many more mortifying things would fly from my lips. Probably a lot.
“Not to worry,” Gideon assured me with a wink. “I won’t debate the truth.”
Gideon snapped his fingers and produced a large box of condoms. Tossing them onto the coffee table, he looked at me and grinned. “Done.”
“Okay,” I said, amused and impressed. “You think we’re going to need that many?”
“Yes, I do,” he replied silkily.
My face felt like it was on fire.
“Well, umm… I have a clean bill of health,” I said, kind of wanting to die. “I’ve had my yearly check-up and I’m good to go.”
“Immortals can’t carry disease,” he said, enjoying my discomfort.
“I know this is hilarious to you,” I snapped. “However, we’re grownups—you more than me—and this is what grownups do before they bang.”
Gideon’s delighted laugh went all through me. I craved his laughter as much as I craved the rest of him.
“I agree,” he said, still smiling. “I have an important question for you, though.”
“What?” I asked, racking my brain for what I’d missed. I’d read a few articles on what potential sex partners should discuss and some of it didn’t apply to us. “Oh, wait. I’m supposed to ask you what you like.”