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But she stayed put anyway. Her mean old-lady grandmother had the vaguest of points. There was no point in dabbling in being psychic. Either she learned to control her gifts or she let them control her.
“Relax, Thorn. We don’t have to map out the next twenty years of our lives right now.” “But a family is on the table? With me,” she clarified. “You’re really sexy when you’re freaking out on the inside,” he told her. “I’m not freaking out. You’re freaking out.” “I’m sitting in the sun with my incognito girlfriend enjoying a cold beer. There’s nothing to freak out over.” “Spoken like a guy who thinks diapers magically change themselves.” “You wound me, Thorn.”
She was in love with him. He’d taken a bullet for her, punched her ex-husband in the face for her, and now he was calling out her grandmother on her bullying. Nick Santiago was the goddamn love of her life.
“Now it’s your turn,” he instructed. “My turn?” “I told you what I want from you. Now you tell me what you want from me.” She looked at him over the rim of her glass, her brown eyes warm and sparkling. “More,” she said. “More what? Calamari? Sangria?” “More of everything with you.” Maybe it was the sangria. Or maybe it was the two hundred dollars in tips in his pocket. Or maybe it was the woman who wanted more than he’d ever wanted to give before. Whatever it was, he felt something warm and not at all terrible in his chest. “Deal.”
“Death strips away everything we think is important only to reveal what actually is important,” Elanora said. “All souls remember their truth once the distortions of life begin to fade.”
“Have I told you today that I love you?” He grinned the full dimpled wattage at her. “Not nearly often enough.” “I love you, Nick Santiago. Thank you for saving my ass once again.” “It’s a nice ass. I’m kind of in love with it,” he said.
