I’m going to grab a cheeseburger,” I told Patch. “Want anything?”
“Nothing on the menu.”
I smiled. “Why, Patch, are you flirting with me?

He sucked some of the rain from my bottom lip, and I felt his mouth smile against mine. He swept my hair aside and kissed me just above the collarbone. He nibbled at my ear, then sank his teeth into my shoulder. I hung my fingertips on his waistband, tugging him closer. Patch buried his face in the curve of my shoulder, his hands flexing over my back. He gave a low groan.

“I love you,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m happier right now than I ever remember being.

I love you more than I think I should.

How about a ... deal?" His face was bent down, shadowed, and he looked up at me through his lashes. The effect was an impression of trustworthiness. "Help me make tacos, and I'll answer a dew of your questions.

He tried to pull me against him, and I bit him on the lip.
He licked his lip with the tip of his tongue. 'Did you just bite me?

He inclined his head at my dress. "What's the occasion?"

"Homecoming," I said, twirling. "Like?"

"Last I heard, Homecoming requires a date."

"About that," I hedged. "I'm sort of...going with Scott. We both figure a high-school dance is the last place Hank will be patrolling."

Patch smiled, but it was tight. "I take that back. If Hank wants to shoot Scott, he has my blessing.