Trick or Treat for the Desperate Devil
Page 187
She looks up at me.
“And Clarissa moving in was genius.”
“Definitely.”
“She loves it here.”
“And her siblings still get to run the cleaning business.”
“Win-win.”
I glance toward the ceiling.
“And if the ghosts start playing Donna Summer at two in the morning, they're Clarissa's problem now.”
“Damian.”
“What?”
“They're still our neighbors.”
“Exactly. Neighbors.”
I point towards the window.
“We live there.”
Belinda laughs.
Fuck, yes.
We.
Our home.
Our bed.
Our kitchen.
Our garden.
Our fucking tomatoes.
I spent forty years believing time was running out.
Believing my future ended with the Devil swallowing whatever remained of the man.
Instead, I got this.
A mate who drives me fucking insane.
A haunted B&B next door.
A pink-haired Sprite managing it.
Fifteen Sprite siblings running a cleaning empire.
A psychotic orange cat who's somehow become best friends with my canary.
