“Let me show you,” he said in my ear. “Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hips—it’s all in the hips.”

“I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.”

“Don’t start. I saw Marcie climb inside your Jeep.”“She needed a ride.”I adopted a hands-on-hips pose. “What kind of ride?”“Not that kind of ride,” he said slowly.”

“Is that a yes?" he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my shoulders and searching my face intently. "Please let it be yes," he said with a gravelly edge. "Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.”

“If you haven't guessed it already," I said, something fervent and resonating slipping into my tone, "I need you, too.""Is that a yes?" he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my sholders and searching my face intently. "Please let it be yes," he said with a gravelly edge. "Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.”

“First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.”“Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me.“When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.”

“It makes no difference to me whether I shoot you or you fall to your death.”“It does make a difference,” I said, my voice small but confident. “You and I share the same blood.” I lifted my hand precariously, showing him my birthmark. “I’m your descendant. If I sacrifice my blood, Patch will become human and you’ll die. It’s written in The Book of Enoch.”