“I’m hitting the shower,” Reyes said, nodding to Ubie.
“Don’t hit George.” I scowled at him. His shower was magnificent. I’d named him George because he just didn’t look like a Tom, Dick, or Harry. “What did he ever do to you?”
Despite Reyes’s rocky disposition, his full mouth showed traces of a smile that reached all the way up to his sparkling mocha-colored eyes, the green and gold flecks brilliant even in the artificial light. He offered me a soft kiss, his mouth brushing across mine before he took it farther, showering tiny kisses along my cheek until he came to my ear. His warm breath stirred my hair as he whispered, “George misses you.” Then he stood and winked playfully.
But what he did next surprised everyone in the room. He bent down, kissed Cookie on the cheek, and whispered something in her ear, too. I sat stunned. That was the second time he’d kissed her cheek in as many days. After a curt nod to Ubie, he strode out the door.
“Is there something I need to know about you two?” I asked Cookie.
It took her a moment to travel back to Earth. When she did, a soft pink glow suffused her face. “He thanked me for being a good friend to you.”
I put a hand over my heart. That guy. “He can be the sweetest thing when he’s not killing demons and shit.”
“True,” she said.
The kiss affected Ubie even more than it did Cookie. I could feel a tinge of jealousy in the mix of emotions radiating out of him. Among them were insecurity, worry, and doubt. Poor guy. If he’d just ask Cookie out, all this would be over. It would only take one of them to be bold enough to make the first move. Freaking wusses.
“Yeah, I’ll go now, too,” he said, clearing his throat as he stood. “I’m going to send over a uniform—”
“Uncle Bob, you can’t. They said no police. Just find out what you can about the woman in that picture. We have lots of protection right here.”
Ubie cursed under his breath, then said, “I’ll send over a plainclothes. I know just who to send. He can be your nephew, Cookie. Do not let him leave your side.” He took a minuscule step closer to her. “Promise me.”
“Thank you, Robert. I promise.”
“I’ll come back by this evening to check on you girls.”
“Oh, well, you could,” I said, thinking ahead, “but Cookie won’t be here. She has another date. Like I said, popular.” I winked at him.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked. “Considering the circumstances.”
Cookie was busy giving me the evil eye when she pasted on a smile and turned back to him. “Right, yes, I do. I almost forgot. But if you want to drop by, I could cancel.”
“Oh, no,” I said, waving a dismissive hand, “Uncle Bob wouldn’t want to ruin your evening just to come by and talk shop—right, Ubie?”
It took him a moment to force the words past his clenched teeth. “Right. No, you’re right. You go have fun.” He started for the door. “I’ll call this evening to make sure you’re okay.”
“There’s really no need,” I said to him. My sentence was followed by a slight squeak when Cookie kicked me in the shin. I waved to Ubie, then turned on her. “What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
“What do you mean what am I doing? I asked you first.”
“He was coming over,” she said, pointing toward the door. “He wanted to spend time with me.”
“BS, Cook.” I got up and took my cup to the sink. But only to rinse it out and pour a fresh cup.
“BS?”
“Yes, BS. He comes over all the time. He practically lives over here some weeks, but has that gotten you two anywhere? Are you any closer to dating? To making out on my couch? To having hot monkey sex in the bathroom stalls at the Sizzler? I think not.”
Her shoulders deflated. Slowly. Like a balloon with a tiny pinprick that made the slightest of squeaks as air escaped it. Only she didn’t squeak. “You’re absolutely right.”
“I am?” I stopped and thought about it. “That doesn’t happen very often.”
“I know. Enjoy it while it lasts.” When I gaped at her, she said, “What? Everyone knows I’m the brains of this here operation.”
She had a point. “Okay, I’m going to shower the residue of smoky back rooms and men in ski masks out of my hair.”
Cookie got up and started washing my dishes.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. Please, stop.” I added a touch of melodrama to be more convincing. “Really, Cookie.”