From the Author
Zora shouldn't have agreed to come. But she was getting used to it now--the routine where she kept telling herself not to spend this much time with Deuce and then being unable to follow through.
"How much longer?"
"You said that like thirty minutes ago."
"I'm drivin' slow, that's all. It's not that much farther."
"Why are you driving so slow?"
"You never heard of black ice? And take your smelly-ass feet off my dashboard."
"You kissed these smelly feet night before last," she reminded him in a sing-song voice. "I think you even sucked these smelly-ass toes."
"I was drunk," he said. "Really drunk."
Zora laughed and nudged him in the arm. "You were not. You were completely coherent. You told me I tasted like honey ... and that you ..."
"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."
Zora looked at him, and he was looking back at her, biting his lower lip to smother a grin.