Someone who didn’t make him put his fist through a wal .

Someone who hadn’t spent nearly seven years of their life sleeping with a criminal.

Someone better than me.

Hank pul ed slightly away but kept his arms around me.

I looked up at him, pushed my prayers deep down, where he couldn’t see, and I smiled at him.

“Can I cal Vance now?” I asked.

“I’m payin’ him back,” Hank answered.

I sighed.

I sighed.

“Stubborn,” I grumbled, giving in.

A hint of a smile came into his eyes and he rested his forehead against mine. “Sunshine?” he cal ed.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever I saw you thinkin’ just now…”

Shit.

I hadn’t hidden it fast enough.

I held my breath.

“Get it out of your f**kin’ head.”

“Hank.”

“Promise me.”

“Hank!”

“Roxanne,” he used his authoritative voice.

“So. What? Now you’re gonna tel me what to think?” I asked, pul ing my head back and taking my hands from around him and putting them on my hips.

He shook his head.

“You just said –” I started.

“Okay, think whatever you want.”

“Wel , thank you,” I said, uppity.

He grinned.

His mouth came to mine. “But consider yourself warned.

Your mind wanders down that path again, I’l be forced to turn it to other things.”

Before I could respond, he showed me what he meant.

He kissed me, deep.

My brains scrambled and then I wasn’t thinking anything at al .

Chapter Seventeen

“Frightmare”

Hank took me to his place and I changed my shoes.

Then I rooted through his drawers and pul ed out a University of Colorado sweatshirt and I switched out of my lush cardigan into the sweatshirt.

“I’m confiscating this,” I told him when I walked into the kitchen.

His was leaning, h*ps against the counter, writing notes one-handed on a pad that was sitting on the counter to his right. He looked at me and then his eyes dropped to the sweatshirt, which was so big it was almost a dress.

Then they got lazy. “Come here,” he said low.

“No, we have to go. I’m gonna be late.”

“Come here,” he repeated.

“No! You have to get to work.”

“You can come here or…” he started.

I knew where this was going.

“Oh, al right,” I gave in.

I went to him.

He kissed me dizzy, it got heated, there was some groping and we went to Al y’s late.

* * * * *

We walked into Al y’s and nearly everyone was there but Daisy. “Yo Bitch!” Annette yel ed at me. “Yo dude!” she yel ed at

“Yo Bitch!” Annette yel ed at me. “Yo dude!” she yel ed at Hank.

Hank smiled at her.

She gawked at him, momentarily stunned by his smile and then turned to me and nodded her head slowly. “Nice,” she drawled.

I rol ed my eyes.

“Like the sweatshirt,” Al y said, leaning back and taking me in and then she introduced me to her boyfriend, Carl.

He was good-looking; tal , blond, blue-eyed and grinning at Hank. A knowing grin that made me feel slightly bothered but, weirdly, in a good way.

“We need to talk,” Hank said to him.

“I figured that,” Carl said back.

Hank leaned down and wrapped an arm around my waist sideways. I looked up at him and he gave me a light kiss. “Have fun,” he said against my mouth.

Then he and Carl walked out the front door.

“What’s that al about?” I asked, watching the closed door as if I had x-ray vision and could see through it.

“That’s Hank tel ing Carl he’l make him into an instant girl if anything happens to you,” Al y said.

“Good God,” I murmured.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Indy said.

The door opened and Daisy arrived.

Or, I should say Daisy arrived.

She was wearing a skintight, faded denim jumpsuit; the crotch to bosom zipper unzipped to maximum cle**age potential, rhinestones adorning the outer sides of her legs, up her hips, waist, sides, and down the inside of the sleeves. She was wearing matching platform, high-heeled, faded denim boots, heavily encrusted with rhinestones. She had a pink chiffon scarf tied around her neck and her platinum blonde hair was teased out to peak volume.

“Yo Bitch!” Annette yel ed, completely oblivious to the fact that Daisy looked like she was about to step on stage in Vegas.

“Yo, Sugar,” Daisy replied.

“I thought I told you to wear gym shoes,” Al y said, peeved that her Haunted House instructions were not carried out to the letter.

“I don’t do gym shoes, comprende?” Daisy told her, giving her a squinty look.

Yowza.

“It’s your funeral,” Al y shot back, total y unaffected by the squinty look.

Holy cow.

Then Daisy’s eyes came to me. “Honey bunches of oats,” she said, “your man is outside having an extreme conversation with her man.” A toss of her head indicated Al y.

“I know,” I told her.

She nodded and looked around. “Al right then, who brought the stun guns?”

Shit.

* * * * *

Carl, Al y and Indy rode in Carl’s Pathfinder. If you could believe this, Annette, Jason, Jet, Daisy and I fol owed in the back of Daisy’s limousine. Daisy’s bodyguard drove.

“I f**king love Denver,” Annette said, staring out the window and sprawling in the luxurious space, completely at home, as if she rode in the back of limousines every day.

“You gotta stay until Thursday, Sugar, come to my do. I’m having a fancy soiree,” Daisy invited.

“We… are… fucking… there,” Annette said.

Jason looked at me and closed his eyes in good-natured frustration. When he opened them I was smiling at him. We’d shared these looks a lot over the years.

Then I turned to Jet. “What’s Smithie’s?”

“Pardon?” she asked.

“Smithie’s. I overheard you say when you came into Fortnum’s the day I met you that you worked there.” She grinned at me. “Wel , official y, I don’t work there anymore.”