I dropped his hand and cleared my throat. Despite everything, Reyes was still my number one suspect in an arson case. I had to remember that. “What are you doing here anyway?”

He tucked his hand back over his chest. “I was just passing by. Saw the commotion. Figured you were involved.”

“Hey, I was handling it.”

“I can see that. You want me to leave?”

I did, but only because his presence caused every molecule in my body to quake. And I didn’t, but only because having him near was like basking in the glow of the sun. A really sexy sun that wasn’t so much yellow as a dark, sultry bronze. Still, I had work to do. And a lot of explaining.

“You can’t leave now. There’s an active investigation going on, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I looked on as Uncle Bob helped Cookie to a chair. “Yes.”

“Then say it.”

I raised my chin, striking a defiant pose for him. “I want you to leave.”

A slow grin spread across his face. He eased closer and bent toward me to whisper in my ear, “You have to mean it.”

I closed my eyes, tried to stop the flood of lust that rushed between my legs. Our relationship was a lot like underwear in a dryer without a static control sheet. One minute we were floating through life, buoyant and carefree. The next we were attached at the crotch.

Rattled, I said, “You still owe me a million dollars.” I’d presented him with a bill for proving his innocence and getting him freed from prison. He had yet to pay. Couldn’t imagine why.

“Yeah, I was hoping we could work that out.”

“The interest alone is going to kill you.”

“What do you charge?”

“Three hundred eighty-seven percent.”

“Is that ethical?”

“It’s as ethical as my dating the son of Satan.”

I took inventory of the patrons still in the bar, a little surprised to find that Jessica had stuck around. That was not her strong suit. Then I realized why. Her eyes were glued to Reyes’s crotch. Her friends were only slightly less obvious as they took in every sultry shadow that dipped between Reyes’s muscles, their expressions a cross between appreciation and raw lust.

Ruffled despite my every desire not to be, I said, “You have a fan club. I had no idea.”

Completely uninterested, he ignored me and asked, “We’re dating?”

I glanced at him in surprise. I hadn’t meant it that way. He’d given me a key to his apartment when he moved in next door. I had yet to use it. I wasn’t sure if I was scared or just plain terrified. He was still my number one suspect in an arson case. I had to remember that. And he was still healing from the gunshot he’d received thanks to me. And he’d grown up with a monster so abusive, it defied explanation. And he’d gone to prison for killing him – an act he didn’t commit since Earl Walker was still alive – because I had failed him. My first vision of Reyes Farrow was of him being beaten senseless by Walker when he was nineteen. I had failed to call the police – at his behest, yes, but I should have done it anyway. At the very least, I should have told my dad, who was a cop at the time. How much would Reyes’s life have changed? How much of the suffering would have been avoided?

Like me, Reyes could feel emotion. He could feel anger rolling off people. Fear. Doubt. And sympathy. He most certainly felt mine. I realized my mistake when his expression hardened.

He brushed a thumb across his mouth in annoyance. “Surely that’s not pity in your eyes.”

I heard someone call out before I could answer.

“You!” a male voice said.

We looked to our right and saw a uniformed officer motioning Reyes over, Taft standing beside him.

Reyes sighed and I felt his annoyance dwindle. He leaned close again, his mouth at my ear, his breath warm across my cheek. “Use the key, Dutch.”

The thought of using the key, the key he’d given me to his apartment, caused an electrical charge to race up my spine.

He felt that, too. With a soft growl emanating from his throat, he turned and walked over to the officer. But I felt something, too. The heat of Jessica’s glare as jealousy consumed her. Normally I would giggle like an insane schoolgirl in such a situation, but I couldn’t quite manage it. That growl washed over me like cool water, caused another tingling in my abdomen, and I had to remind myself to fill my lungs with air before I turned blue. Blue was not my best color.

When a spot beside Cookie opened up, I hurried to get to her. In all the chaos, she’d somehow been elbowed in the face. I tried to feel bad, but I was still a little shell-shocked. Reyes did that to me. Still, Cookie would be sporting a shiner for days. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Are you okay, Cook?” I asked her as Uncle Bob sat in a chair beside her.

She was shaken and flustered. I put my hand on hers.

“How about I get you some water,” Uncle Bob said to her, “and you two can tell me what happened.”

“Thank you, Bob,” she said, her voice quivering. When he left, she patted her cheeks and neck with a napkin, then asked me, “So, how was your day?”

There she was, the Cook I knew and loved. Taking the good with the bad and turning it into an opportunity to grow and, quite often, make fun of innocent bystanders.

I decided to play along. I dropped my head into my hands. “My day sucked. I failed again.”