I walked back to the mirror and held up the dress, the one that had to be let out due to the fact that my ass had grown in sync with my belly. Reyes stayed close behind, his hand warm at the small of my back, his heat seeping in and easing the ache there. He was very therapeutic, especially now that the nights were getting cooler.

“They won’t talk to me,” I said, trying to decide if cinnamon had been my color all along and I just didn’t know it. It did match my eyes quite nicely, which were the color of the amber in which the mosquito was preserved in Jurassic Park, but it also made me look a little deader than I liked. “The departed on the lawn. I keep thinking they need help to cross, but they just stare straight ahead, their expressions completely blank. Maybe they’re zombies.” I turned this way and that. “Either way, it’s unsettling.”

Reyes pressed into my backside and rubbed my shoulders with what I’d come to realize were magic hands. He was clearly the Magic Man Heart had sung about. I’d had no idea anything could feel that good. On bad days—the days there was just no settling Beep—it rivaled an orgasm.

Wait, no, it didn’t. Nothing rivaled an orgasm. But it came damned close.

“You’re bright,” he said, bending until his breath fanned across my cheek.

“I know, but—”

“You’re really bright.”

I laughed and turned into him. “I know, but—”

“No,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor, “you’re even brighter than normal. Your light is so bright, it fills every corner of the house.”

Of course, only he would know that. I couldn’t see my light, which was probably a good thing because how would I put on makeup if all I saw was a bright light? No, wait, he wasn’t the only one who would know that. There were others who could see it. The departed, obviously, but also Osh, our resident Daeva, a slave demon who’d escaped from hell centuries ago. And Quentin, a Deaf kid we’d adopted as part of our gang, who mostly hung out with Cookie’s daughter, Amber. And Pari, one of my best friends. And Angel, my departed thirteen-year-old sidekick and lead investigator.

I blinked, realizing all the people who would have known that my brightness levels needed adjusting. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

He lifted a shoulder. “There’s not anything you can do about it, right?”

“Right.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“It’s important, that’s why. Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe I’m sick.” I felt my forehead. My cheeks. My chest. Then I lifted Reyes’s hand and pressed it to my chest, glancing up from beneath my lashes as impishly as I possibly could. “Do I feel feverish?”

He darkened instantly. His gaze dropped to Danger and Will Robinson, aka my breasts. His gaze did that often, unruly thing that it was. Danger and Will loved the attention.

“You shouldn’t tempt me,” he said, his voice growing ragged.

A tingle of desire sparked to life, causing a warmth to pool in my abdomen. “You’re the only one I should tempt, seeing as how we’re hitched.”

He wrapped a hand around my throat ever so softly and led me back against the mirror. It wasn’t his actions that jump-started my heart, but the raw lust that consumed him. The dark need in his eyes. The severity of his drawn brows. The sensuality of his parted mouth. My girl parts tightened when he dipped his hand into my shirt. His thumb grazed over a hardened nipple, and a jolt of pleasure shot straight to my core.

“I’m here!” Cookie called from down the hall, her voice breathy, winded from the stairs.

I almost groaned aloud at the interruption. Reyes’s grip on my throat tightened. He tilted my face up to his and whispered, “We’ll continue this later.”

“Promise?” I asked, unwilling to relinquish the impish bit.

He covered my mouth with his, his tongue hot as it dived inside me, as he melted my knees and stole my breath. Then, a microsecond before Cookie walked in, he pushed off me with a wink and strolled to look out the window. Still weak from his kiss, I almost stumbled forward.

“I’m here,” said Cookie Kowalski, my assistant who moonlighted as my best friend, as she rushed into the room.

It took me a sec, but I finally tore my gaze off my husband. Cookie’s short black hair had been flattened on one side, making her look lopsided. Her mismatched clothes were rumpled and a purple scarf dangled off one shoulder, perilously close to falling to the floor. Though Cook was considered large by society’s standards, she wore her size well. She had the beauty and confidence of an eccentric, wardrobe-challenged countess. Normally. Today she looked more like a frazzled scullery maid.

I fought a grin and chastised her for her tardiness. “It’s about time, missy,” I said, tapping my naked wrist to make my point clear.

She gasped audibly, then looked at her watch. Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Charley, damn it. The wedding isn’t for hours.”

“I know,” I said, stepping closer as she sat some bags on a bench at the end of the bed. “I just like to keep you on your toes.”

“Oh, you do that. No worries there. I’m like a ballerina when you’re around.”

“Sweet.” I leaned over to peek inside a bag. “I also want to thank you again for having the wedding here.” She did so to accommodate Reyes and me, since we couldn’t leave the grounds.

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “This place is perfect. Who gets to have a wedding in a historic convent surrounded by a lush forest adorned with the colors of autumn? Me. That’s who.” She gave my shoulders a quick one-armed squeeze. “I am beyond thrilled, hon.”

“I’m glad.”

“And, by having it here,” she continued, pulling out a fluff of pink material from one of the bags, “neither you nor Reyes will be ripped apart by hellhounds during the ceremony. I’d love to get through this without getting blood on my wedding gown.”

“It’s so always about you,” I said, and she laughed. Mission complete.

She took a ribbon off the material, then noticed Reyes’s tousled state. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He turned, but only slightly, not wanting to expose the evidence of exactly what she’d interrupted. “Not at all,” he said, pointing outside. “We were just talking about all the departed—”

“—who have passed on over the years,” I said, stopping him from making a grave mistake. “And, boy, are there lots.” I snorted. “Like millions. Maybe even billions.”

Cookie stopped what she was doing—namely rummaging through another shopping bag—and turned toward me, her movements slow. Methodical. Calculated. “There—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and started over. “There are dead people on the lawn, aren’t there?”

“What?” I dismissed her suspicions with a wave of my hand. Because that always worked. “Pfft, no way. Why would there—? I mean, what would they be doing on—?”

“Charley,” she said in warning, her hangover voice low and alarmingly sexy.

I bit down, cursing myself for my utter lack of finesse. This was her wedding day, and her nerves had been stretched thin enough without a last-minute addition of the recently departed to the guest list.

“Only a couple,” I said, strolling nonchalantly to Reyes’s side and looking out the two-story window. I was such a liar. There were at least a hundred departed standing in front of the convent. Silent. Unmoving. Unblinking. This was going to be the creepiest wedding ever. At least they weren’t coming inside, but the wedding was actually outside in a little clearing behind the convent. Thankfully, they hadn’t invaded that area. Much.

Reyes leaned down to me and whispered into my ear. “Your nearness isn’t helping my condition.”

I glanced at his crotch. The fullness caused a flush to rise in my cheeks. But he was right. Now was not the time. “Sorry,” I whispered back before turning to Cookie again. “What’s that?”

She was busy staring out another window, and I thanked God she couldn’t see the departed. “The curtains for the nursery came in,” she said absently.