All the Rules of Heaven (All That Heaven Will Allow #1) - Amy Lane Page 0,87

sex with a lot of judges and high-profile attorneys—and one congresswoman. And a congressman for that matter. But none of them had been as stunning as Angel was in this body.

“What do you need?” she asked, stepping into his view like a regular flesh and blood person.

“An escort to the refrigerator,” he said sheepishly. “We didn’t paint any runes there.”

“But it’s a modern part of the house. I don’t think he’d go there.” Angel tapped a long scarlet fingernail against vermillion lips. “And he thinks the kitchen is beneath him.”

“Yeah, well, brawling in the garden should have been beneath him. Could you just walk with me and keep an eye out while I get some ice?”

“Of course. Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

Tucker dabbed at his nose. “Not when I’m still dripping like a faucet. C’mon, let’s go.”

It all went smoothly… until he was bent over the freezer, scooping ice into a bag, and his towel dropped.

Angel’s throaty laughter drew an allover body flush, though Tucker just kept scooping ice.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his words muffled by his swollen nose.

“Even the skin of your bottom is turning pink!” Angel chortled.

“Wonderful.” He refilled the ice cube tray, staying almost defiantly naked. To his horror, his cock started to wake up in the open air, and once he put the tray in the freezer, he grabbed the towel off the floor and hiked it up around his waist again, then tied the knot as securely as possible.

“A shame,” Angel said, the wicked enjoyment in her voice as mortifying from a woman as it would have been if he’d been a man.

“I’m flattered,” Tucker muttered. “Okay—I need ibuprofen. Did you stock some in the cupboards, or do I need to root through my boxes?”

“Second cupboard to the right of the refrigerator,” Angel said softly. “It’s left over from your aunt, but it should still be good.”

She sounded so contrite, Tucker relented. “It would have been okay, you know. If I’d had to go through the boxes.”

“No,” she said shortly. “Just… just no. I’m tired of watching you hurt today. I would just as soon you fix your nose and go watch some TV.” The perpetual smile at her lips turned wistful. “I wouldn’t mind watching Buffy too.”

“Of course,” Tucker conceded gracefully. He grabbed the ibuprofen, washed it down with water, and then snagged a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels from the same cupboard. He held them up and shook the bag. “These are great—thanks!”

“When you were downtown, getting your stuff, I wired the grocery boy extra money if he’d come in and put the groceries away,” Angel said modestly. “He didn’t try to steal anything at all. I was very impressed.”

Tucker chuckled. “You don’t trust much of humanity, do you?”

“I helped Ruth for a very long time,” she responded. “Very often the dead who won’t leave are the ones with the most to regret.”

Tucker hmmd and grabbed his ice, his pretzels, and the towel around his waist. “Like Sophie’s brother. That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“It just is,” Tucker said thoughtfully. “I think he killed Thomas Conklin—and good for him, because wow. Just wow. Conklin was a bad guy. But it left James Beaufort with a mountain of regret. I think it’s the regret that haunts the paperweight as much as the violence.”

“Oh,” Angel said in a very small voice.

Tucker nodded because it was something to chew over as he padded through the kitchen and made the abrupt left into his bedroom. For a moment, he started, but nobody was waiting for him, nobody had broken his runes.

Thank God. Because Tucker would bleed all night if it meant Thomas Conklin’s ghost would leave him the hell alone.

ANGEL WATCHED Buffy from the bottom corner of the bed, her shapely legs, clad in comfortable jeans, stretched idly in front of her.

Tucker lay on his side and balanced the big ice pack on his nose while trying to sop up the still-trickling blood. Eventually, he fell asleep like that.

For a moment as he was drifting off, he tried to make himself reach out and close his computer, but the screen saver went on, and he felt a soft, sweet presence at his back.

“Stay with me,” he mumbled.

“As long as you need me,” she returned.

And then she did something to the lights, and he didn’t wake up until morning.

ANGEL TALKED him into resting the next day. It wasn’t hard to do—his nose still ached, and he’d stayed up until one in the morning just waiting to see if a vengeful