“Hey, handsome,” I said, strolling up to Mr. Farrow.

  He eyed me, a dimple appearing at one corner of his mouth, but he was mostly looking at my T-shirt, which read, IN MY DEFENSE, I WAS LEFT UNSUPERVISED.

  “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” I asked, pulling on a sweater over my shirt.

  “I thought we’d take the morning off.”

  “Did you?” I rose onto my toes for a kiss. He obliged, his essence warming my lips. “Are you cahooting with my uncle?”

  “Cahooting?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Not that I know of.”

  “Okay, then this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain case I’m working on?”

  “Not at all. Cookie’s in full research mode, so—”

  “Cookie’s daughter is in danger. I’m not sure how much research she’ll get done today.”

  “True, but one morning away from the grind isn’t going to hurt your chances of nailing the Fosters.”

  “I guess.” I waved at Uncle Bob as he drove away, and I went around to the other side of the sexy beast Reyes drove. “Any change in Ubie’s status?” I asked, wondering if the guy Reyes saw in prison was still slated to murder him even though we’d stopped it. I didn’t know that much about destiny. If we thwarted one attempt, was another one sure to follow?

  He got in, disappointing his fans, and started the powerful engine, like a lion’s purr. “It’s not your uncle I need to see where that’s concerned. All I see is what got him slated for hell. I would need to see Grant Guerin again to know if your uncle is still in danger.”

  “So, we’re still at DEFCON 1.”

  “For the time being, but we’ve stirred up his world enough that the chances of your uncle randomly stumbling across him again are pretty slim.”

  “Wait. Does that mean if Grant Guerin doesn’t do the deed he was slated for, if he doesn’t kill Uncle Bob, he won’t go to hell?”

  “He’s making some bad decisions, so he’s on a pretty direct path to cause someone harm. I only see the initial offense. There’s no telling how many other crimes he was destined to commit afterwards. The chances are still pretty good that he will end up on fire eventually.”

  “I wish I could see that.”

  “You can. You just choose not to see the evils that men do.”

  “I don’t think choice has anything to do with it.”

  “Of course, it does. You’re the reaper. You can see all things like that. You can even send them there yourself should you choose. You’ve done it before.”

  “Yeah, but when I marked those men, I was in a state of heightened arousal.”

  “Were you?”

  “Well, not like in an aroused way. It’s just, adrenaline was dropping by the bucketsful into my nervous system. I didn’t think about it. I just marked them.”

  “Ah.”

  “Osh said I can unmark Uncle Bob.”

  “You can.”

  “That’s great. As long as he stays alive long enough for me to figure out how, we’ll be good. And what are our plans for today?”

  The wicked grin that slid across his mouth made me rethink any protests I might have for missing half a day of work. Had I known what he really had in store, I would have begged off, anyway.

  * * *

  “You want me to put what where?”

  Reyes didn’t take me to bed as I’d thought-slash-hoped. But he did take me to the next best thing: a coffee shop. Nothing screamed “I love you” like taking your blushing bride to a coffee shop. Or an ice cream parlor. Or a tractor pull, but only on special occasions.

  He leaned closer, the tiny table we’d taken in a darkish corner suddenly way too big. His deep brown irises shimmered, his five-o’clock shadow, the one making an early appearance, framed his sculpted mouth to bittersweet perfection.

  Then he repeated what he’d said, and the spell was broken. “I want you to put your hand through my heart.”

  Oh, yeah. He’d left the station, headed for Crazyville. “Your heart. Okay, I know you’re a god and all, but won’t that kill you?”

  “Most likely. It’s a lesson in control. Here, I’ll show you.”

  I jumped back when he reached over the table. I trusted him with my life and my heart, but when both were in jeopardy at the same time?

  Then again, he’d been doing the whole dematerialization thing much longer than I had.

  “So, you’re giving me a lesson?”

  “If you hold still, I will.”

  I glanced around. “Should you stick your hand into my chest in a public place? Blatant murder seems more of a dark-alley kind of activity.”

  “I’m willing to chance it.”

  “Fine.” I took in a deep breath and clenched my hands on the table. “I’m ready. Rip out my heart.”

  He laughed and took one hand. Capturing my gaze with his, he turned my hand over and leaned closer, brushing his full lips across my palm.

  I felt the soft prickle of his stubble. The smoothness of his lips. The hotness of his tongue.

  He had me so focused on what he was doing to my hand, it took me a moment to realize he’d put his other hand on my chest. Let it melt. Let it sink into me.

  I gasped. He didn’t just pass through me like a departed would when crossing. He let his molecules separate inside me. Let his heat spill into me like warm honey. First causing a rush in my chest. Then lower. And higher. Everywhere at once.

  It moved to the back of my neck, behind my ears, over my lips. At the same time, it dipped into my stomach and then my abdomen and then to the flesh between my legs.

  His molecules pooled and swirled until I wrenched my hands free and gripped the table. Dug my fingernails into it. Begged for the storm to come closer. That whirlwind of pleasure. That burst of ecstasy.

  I felt his arm wrap around my neck. His mouth claim mine. His tongue brush against my teeth before plunging inside. Hungry. Possessive.

  But the pièce de résistance was the energy building inside my core. Like lava bubbling and boiling and ready to explode. I tried not to moan. To cry out as the energy amassed, the pressure nuclear. I failed. Which would explain the hand suddenly clamped over my mouth. The gentle shushing at my ear.

  But Reyes took his time. While I almost screamed for release, he kept his strokes, his radiating heat, slow and feather light. Teasing and taunting. Coaxing me closer. Daring me to come.

  Unable to sit still, I parted my legs and squirmed against the infusion of energy. I whimpered as he stimulated me from the inside out. As my center contracted and convulsed. As the friction he injected directly into my core caused tiny delightful spasms to quake through me. Until the white-hot orgasm that had started so far away rushed forward at light speed. Slammed into me. Burst inside me, dumping waves of heavenly pleasure until the wetness in my panties grew to urgent levels.

  He’d clamped onto me, and when I was finally able to think straight, I realized he was beside me, holding me tight as I seized underneath his expert touch.

  But then he removed his hand and grabbed the padded seat at my back. I wrapped my arms around him, partly to steady him and partly to anchor me to Earth as an orgasm rocketed through him as well. It shuddered out of him in splendid, sparkling waves that almost had me coming a second time.

  When his climax receded, we sat panting for a long while.

  Then I remembered where we were. My eyes flew open, but I soon realized we looked simply like a couple making out in public, which I always thought was a little brash, but holy fuck. I was more than willing to put aside the Charley Davidson Book of Etiq