"You just need to let those animalistic—holy brownie balls!" Tink dropped to his knees in front of the pile of sugar. He started moving the tiny granules to another pile, counting softly. "One, two, three, four, five, six . . ." Pausing, he glanced up with a frown. "Where did you learn that?"

I shrugged as I bit down on my lower lip. "Saw it on an episode of Supernatural."

Tink gaped at me.

"What?" I giggled, gesturing at the two piles of sugar on the counter. "I didn't think it would actually work."

"I've been fooled by a Winchester wannabe." He clasped his hands over his chest and swayed before toppling over onto his side. "There is no way to save face. I shall off myself now."

Laughing at the sight of him, I leaned over and poked his leg. He threw up an arm, flipping me off, and then he sat up, starting to count all over again. "I hate you," he muttered. "Look at me. I'm like a crack fiend. I just need to know how many are here. There could be hundreds, or maybe even thousands. I have to know the exact—"

The doorbell rang, and my stomach jolted unsteadily as I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was a little past nine, so it had to be Ren. My gaze shot to the hallway and then to where Tink was meticulously counting sugar. "You need to go to your room."

He looked up, his eyes wide. "But—"

"Forget about the sugar. Ren is here and he can't see you."

Tink scowled. "I'm not afraid of him."

"I didn't say you were afraid of him." Exasperated, I placed my hands on my hips. "You know he can't see you."

The knock came again, and I grabbed Tink by the waist. "Hey!" he shouted, gripping my fingers with his hand. "Careful, Godzilla-sized woman. You're squishing my insides."

"I'm not going to squish your insides, and stop beating my hand with your damn wings. It feels weird." Carrying him around the counter, I headed toward his bedroom as he glared at me. "Stay in there."

His eyes narrowed. "You don't own me."

I rolled my eyes. "Behave, Tink." Opening the door, I tossed him inside. His wings spread and arced as he spun around and gripped the edge of the door. "Tink," I seethed. "Get in there."

"Are you going to have sex with him tonight?" he asked.

"Oh my God, Tink." The knock came for a third time, and I started to pull the door shut.

With surprising strength, he managed to hold the door back and wiggled between it and the frame. I could keep pulling, but then I probably would squish him. "I could go with you."

Losing my patience, I counted to ten. I made it to five. "Tink, you know you can't go with me."

He sighed loudly and dramatically. "You're no fun."

I glared at him until he let go of the door then breathed a sigh of relief. "Please behave. Okay?"

A look of pure innocence radiated from his face. "Don't I always?"

This was not going too well, but I was finally able to close the damn door, and I hurried to the front door, yanking it open, ready to apologize for keeping him for so long.

All the words in the world vanished the moment I got an eyeful of Ren.

Holy hotness with an extra side of sexy, when Ren cleaned up, he took his handsomeness into a totally different stratosphere.

The waves and curls of his hair were currently tamed, styled back from his face, showing off the angle of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips. He was wearing a white dress shirt that showed off the hard lines of his broad shoulders and flashed a glimpse of tawny skin at his neck. I noticed then, somehow never really seeing it before, a leather cord hanging from his neck and disappearing under his shirt. I was sure that was what carried the clover, but as my gaze traveled over him, I quickly forgot about it. The edges of the tattoo poked out of the collar of his shirt, and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, exposing powerful forearms. The dark trousers completed the outfit. It was effortless class.

When I dragged my gaze back to his, I realized I hadn't been the only one doing the scrutinizing. He was staring at me in his intense, consuming way, and I stepped back from the door, suddenly feeling very . . . vulnerable. As if I was exposed in front of him.

Heat crept into my cheeks as I plastered my arms to my sides. "Sorry I . . . took so long. I was . . ." I trailed off as he continued to stare at me. "What?"

Ren stepped into the house, catching the door and closing it behind him. His presence filled the living room, and I could barely drag in enough air. "This is wrong," he said, voice thick.

Surprised by the statement, I glanced down at myself. I knew I looked like a silly girl playing dress up. "It's the only dress I could wear," I said, feeling the weight of embarrassment settling on my shoulders.

He gave a little shake of his head as his bright green eyes met mine. "Oh, sweetness, you did wrong in all the right ways."

I wasn't following.

"How in the world am I going to pay attention when you look like that?" he chided softly, and my eyes widened. He moved forward, so close that I had to tip my chin up to meet his stare. He reached out, fingering the loose sleeve of my dress. "You are utterly distracting."

"I am?"

A half smile appeared as his fingers skipped off the material and traced the line of my shoulder, sending a tight shiver down my spine. Then his finger wrapped around a curl, the back of his hand brushing the swell of my breast. He tugged it straight like he'd done before. "You are absolutely beautiful, Ivy."