Meeting Jo Ann's gaze, tiny knots formed low in my belly. "Yeah, I trust him."

~

A little after twelve o'clock, we said our goodbyes, and as Jo Ann climbed into the back of a cab, I pulled out my cell and called Brighton. When she answered and told me she was home, and that Merle was up for company, I almost hopped down the steps and did a little dance in the middle of the sidewalk.

I managed to control myself though.

Squinting from behind my sunglasses at the screen on my phone, I leaned against the wall surrounding the shopping center. I told Brighton I'd be over in a little bit, but that wasn't the only thing I'd told her.

I'd said that I might not be the only one paying a visit.

My thumb hovered over Ren's number. I trusted him, but this was a big step. Nervous, I glanced up and watched a trolley roll by. Then, without looking, I tapped on his name.

Ren answered on the second ring. "Ivy?"

I made a face. "Yeah. That would be me."

His answering chuckle was warm. "Sorry. I'm just surprised that you're calling me. I figured I was going to have to either wait until tomorrow to see you or hunt you down."

Struggling to keep the smile off my face, I paced in front of the brick wall under the oak trees. "Are you busy?"

"Never for you."

There was no holding back the giddy grin at that point, and I was grateful only strangers were walking past me at that moment. "Can you meet me at the shopping center on Prytania Street? There's something I want you to do with me."

A moment passed. "If I told you the images and thoughts flashing through my head right now, you'd probably hang up on me."

"Probably," I said, laughing.

"I can be there in about twenty minutes. Cool with you?"

I nodded and then felt like an idiot because I was on the phone. "Perfect."

The sleek, black motorcycle rumbled up to the curb about fifteen minutes later, and I didn't even want to think about the speed he was driving to make it to the Garden District that fast on a Sunday afternoon.

As I approached the back of the bike, he handed a helmet to me and lifted his. He smiled crookedly, showcasing one of the dimples. "Where are we off to, milady?"

I shook my head at him as I held the helmet. "It's just a couple of blocks down." Giving him the directions, I got on the back of the bike.

"By the way, you look cute today. Like the relaxed Ivy. Never seen her before."

My cheeks flushed and I wanted to kick myself.

"Careful with the backpack," he continued. "There'll be sharp and pointy things in there we can play with later."

That perked my interest in really bizarre ways. I slipped my helmet on and then circled my arms around his waist, careful not to press against his back. It took only minutes to get from the shop and pull up in front of the antebellum home. As he parked the bike and took his helmet off, I removed mine and was about to climb off the bike, but he turned around.

Clasping my cheeks with his large, calloused hands, he swooped in and tilted his head. He kissed me, right there on the side of the street, in front of Brighton and Merle's house. And it was no chaste or quick kiss. I didn't even think Ren knew how to do chaste kisses.

His warm mouth moved over mine, insistent and seductive. With my hands clutching the helmet between us, all I could do was let myself be swept away by the feel of his mouth on mine.

And it did feel damn good.

The bike still hummed under us, and as his tongue glided over mine, I gasped into his mouth. I felt his lips curve into a smile against mine, and I wanted to pitch the helmet into the street and climb all over him.

Ren's mouth brushed mine as he murmured, "Mmm."

"What . . . what was that for?" I asked, blinking.

He laughed as he turned, switching the engine off. "It was a just-because kiss. Get used to it. You're going to get a lot of them."

I stared at his back. "What if I don't want them?"

He looked over his shoulder, arching a brow. "You want them."

I sighed. I did want them.

"So why are we here?" He glanced up at the house, expression curious. "Are we already in the moving in together stage?"

"What?" I scoffed at him as I hopped off the bike. "No."

Grinning, he climbed off and stood next to me, the helmet dangling from his fingers as he eyed the fence. "So what's the deal?"

"A friend of mine lives here. Her name is Brighton and her mom used to work for the Order. She . . . she was caught once and the fae fed off of her, and she really was never the same again." Glancing at the house, I drew in a shallow breath. "Merle knew everything—still knows everything. She was pretty high up there. She might know where the gate is."

Ren stiffened as his green eyes met mine. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "Just depends on what kind of . . . mood she's in. I tried getting in touch with her before, but they were out of the state."

He tilted his head to the side, and the sun glanced off his cheek. "You've known that this woman could tell us the location since the beginning?"

"Yes." I didn't flinch from his steely gaze. "But when I first went to talk to her and she wasn't here, I didn't exactly trust you."

He dipped his chin. "So you're saying you trust me now?"

"Obviously." I threw up my arms, helmet and all. "Or I wouldn't have brought you here."