Page 71 of Secret Spark

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” she laughed as her heart soared.Sweetheart.

“You have to leave soon for work, and I’ve got a work thing. I’m not rushing this all-important ink exploration.”

“I don’t want to rush it, either.”

Joan wrinkled her nose in that unexpectedly cute way. “I wish we could stay in this little cocoon we’ve created between our apartments. Leave the outside world…outside.”

Sadie drew her close for a kiss. “Friday nights are usually dead at VCC. I’m home by ten-thirty.”

“That’s not late at all,” Joan said, toying with the button on Sadie’s pants.

“And tomorrow is Saturday, which just so happens to be my day off.”

“You can sleep in.”

“I can be up late tonight.” She kissed Joan again. “Very late.”

“Then let’s pick this up at ten-thirty.”

“I’m gonna be thinking about it all day.”Yessss! Finally!

The intensity of Joan’s kiss left no doubt how much she was looking forward to it, too. “I already think about you all day,” she said.

“Smooth. Very smooth.”

“Just speaking the truth.”

Like Joan would ever tell her anything but the truth.

A piercing alert wailed out of her phone. Joan instantly shifted into Super Mode and pulled away. She grabbed her phone, then started for the door. Then paused, face wrinkling in irritation.

“Is everything okay?” Sadie asked, rushing over.

“Yeah,” Joan breathed. “My friend set my home alarm off.”

A few text messages sat above the alarm notice.

Cute security system. Im in your living room. Where r u?

My locator says you’re here. I have to talk to u

Dammit do I have to set this shit alarm off to get your attention

The contact was just the letter G. Whoever G was, they had utterly ruined the moment.

Joan raised her phone. “Greta, uh, has a key but not the alarm code.”

It looked like Greta had set it off on purpose. “Is she one of those friends who expects you to drop everything whenever they need you?”

“No, she’s really not.” Joan sent a reply text. “I need to reset the alarm. Want to come with? Say hi?”

“Sure.” Ooh, maybe Greta was a Super from another city.

A petite East Asian woman with long black hair lounged in Joan’s apartment doorway, arms crossed over a leather jacket. “What’s the deal?” she said to Joan. “Mark answered my text before you.”

“Mark answers texts in the middle of sex,” Joan said.

“You guys have to—” Greta’s focus swiveled to Sadie.

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