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“Very warm!”

“Or maybeCanadian?”

“Getting coldagain.”

“No eres mexicano,” hetried.

“Colder. Probably. Whatdid you say?”

Tim grinned. “So you’re from the States, but whichone?”

“It’s getting hot inhere,” Mr. Tanaka said, fanning himself.

That gave Tim pause. Hisguide had been so stiff and formal at the airport and during theride here. Maybe now that he was officially off work he was able tobe more casual. Tim preferred this, but his brain was going crazyas he tried to figure out why that face, and especially thosenearly black irises, were so familiar. Even the mannerisms! Theyhad definitely met before. “Texas.”

“Colder.”

That left him clueless, so he went with hishome state. “Kansas.”

“Born andraised.”

Tim gawped. Then hegrinned. “Same here! Small world.”

Mr. Tanaka seemed amused, the dark eyessparkling. “Smaller than you think, Wyman-sama.”

He groaned. “If we’re bothfrom Kansas, can we drop the sama-kun-san or whatever? Call meTim.”

“If that’s what youprefer.”

“It is.”

Tim waited. His guide seemed content tostare.

“So uh, do you have afirst name too? Or is it Mister, because that would be a reallyweird name to give a baby.”

“I have a name,” Mr.Tanaka said, patting his pockets. “I just can’t remember what I didwith it.”

The mischievous grin andthose glimmering dark eyes… A memory hit Tim in the gut, one hehadn’t considered in years, maybe even decades. He had been in ayoung man’s room, bass thumping from a party downstairs that he hadbeen eager to escape. Not that he had anything against music orunderage drinking. Carla had been the reason Tim hadn’t wanted toreturn downstairs, his girlfriend in one of her meaner moods, soTim had hung out instead with her little brother. They had passedthe time by joking around until the big brother/little brother vibewas eradicated with a single sentence.Youcan kiss me if you want.

“Corey?”

Mr. Tanaka leaned back with a satisfiedsmile. “And now we’re on fire!”

“Noway!” Tim stared, taking the eyebrows, the cheekbones,theeverything, and trying to age it all backwards. His memory wasn’tperfect. It had been long ago and he never owned a photo of Corey,but it all fit. Almost. “Your last name…”

“I took my husband’s namewhen we got married,” Mr. Tanaka—no, Corey!—explained. “He’sJapanese.”

Tim shook his head in wonder. “No freakingway!”

“Yes way!” Corey repliedwith a chuckle.

The waitress returned withtheir drinks, which was good, because Tim definitely needed helpcalming his nerves. This was a good surprise. Wasn’t it? He andCarla had an ugly history, but that had nothing to do with herlittle brother.

“Do you know what you wantto eat?” Corey asked.

“I’ll leave it up to you,”Tim said, glancing at the menu. He saw that it was in both Englishand Japanese, but he might as well take advantage of localknowledge. “You know what we like to eat in Kansas.”

“Steak and barbeque,”Corey said instantly. He spoke Japanese to the waitress.