All the Rules of Heaven (All That Heaven Will Allow #1) - Amy Lane Page 0,61

“Today I’m male, late twenties, with longish auburn hair and a broad chin.” A small smile flirted with his sensual mouth. “Tomorrow, I might be a petite brunet with large breasts.”

“Ghosts don’t do that, do they?”

Angel’s eyes, the most human things about him, never left Tucker’s. “Not usually,” he conceded, a faint flush stealing across those once flawless cheeks. “No.”

“If you’re not a ghost, Angel, what are you?”

Angel looked sideways. “I think the Greenaways are calling,” he said, and then he disappeared.

“I knew it!” Tucker hollered, putting Angel together with what he knew of ghosts. Ghosts didn’t change shape, and they didn’t change gender, and they didn’t, under any circumstances, sit under your skin and beg you to purge your own poison so they could save your life.

A thing for which Tucker was not sure he’d properly thanked Angel yet.

“Knew what?” Rae called, knocking on the door. “Tucker, are you okay in there? Your bedclothes were getting rank, so I started the laundry. And you were looking a little scrawny, so I started… breakfast?”

Tucker thunked his forehead with his palm.

“Why would I think about how scrawny and peaked you were?” Rae was mumbling to herself. “And peaked—who says peaked?”

“Angel,” Tucker told her. “I’m sorry. I think he figured he’d put the idea in your head.” And then, because he was pretty sure the obnoxious ghost… spirit… whatever was listening, he raised his voice. “I am not scrawny, Angel!”

“You are too!” Angel said crossly, reappearing on top of the toilet.

“What are you?” Tucker asked. “And don’t disa—”

Angel disappeared.

“Goddammit.” Tucker pulled on his T-shirt and then his cargo shorts, swearing to himself.

“Tucker, are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine, Rae. I just need to brush my teeth, and then I’ll be right out. Are Andy and Josh ready?”

“Yeah. How much stuff are you bringing back?”

Tucker ran his toothbrush under the water and thought. “I don’t know. Does Andy have his own furniture? Because it might just be clothes and DVDs and stuff. If he wants to use the bed and the couch, that’s fine.” He thought hard about his humble apartment while he brushed his teeth. He’d never brought anybody there—the pickups orchestrated by his gift always ended up somewhere else for some reason, and Tucker had started thinking of this little quirk as a blessing.

It was comfortable. The mattress didn’t have lumps, the couch didn’t eat people—but then, he didn’t have many people over. He’d bought decorations to please himself, and DVDs that he’d loved. His computer held all his music, and he had a modest amount of clothes and the occasional sporting item, like a Frisbee or set of golf clubs, in his closet.

And of course, there were the items on the bookshelf that had belonged to Damien.

Those he’d have to take home.

“Well, we figured he’d take a look at the apartment today, and then if you’re sure you want him to take over, he’d move in next week. He registered for school on hope and a whim, but it starts in a month. If he’s going to find a job before classes start, he needs to get going.”

Tucker spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, then put the toothbrush back on the holder on the side of the sink. “That’s fine. I’d say the pickup truck only,” he said. “So maybe me and Josh, and Andy can come with us or drive on his own.”

“He’ll drive on his own, maybe stay the night,” Rae said, still through the door. “Thanks, Tucker. We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

Tucker looked in the mirror and decided he might need to shave. “Ten minutes,” he promised.

Angel appeared over his shoulder as he was in midswipe of his cheek. “Dammit!”

“I’m sorry!” Angel said. “I’m sorry. I just hoped you wouldn’t badger me, and look! You’re hurt again.”

Without thinking, Angel swiped Tucker’s cheek with his thumb and held it out accusingly so they could both see the blood.

And then they both froze.

Tucker could still feel the touch on his cheek—masculine, firm, but not rough—and the drop of scarlet clung to the pad of Angel’s thumb in a smear.

Tucker closed his eyes, expecting Angel to disappear. When he opened his eyes, Angel was still there.

“I can’t go,” he said plaintively. “I tried. You’re not supposed to know what I am. I can’t tell you. I don’t really remember. But I know it’s secret. And I can’t disappear, and you’re just going to—”

“Sh….” Tucker suddenly got it. He took the washcloth from the side of