Page 1133 of One More Kiss

And I had never been big on cut flowers. They wilted and withered--nothing says I love you like a vase of long-stemmed decomposition.

"That may be the first time you didn't argue with me." The corner of Griffin's mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.

"Well, statistically speaking, you were bound to be right at least once." I pinched the bridge of my nose and dipped my head to hide the blush I felt on my cheeks when memories of our arguments and subsequent make-up sessions stoked old flames, warming me from the inside out.

Or maybe that was just the tracker charm pulsing in my hand.

"Statistically speaking." Griffin's laughter rumbled up like a slow rolling summer storm. There was a spark of confidence in his amber eyes as if he knew he was winning me over one smile at a time.

Like Hecate, he is.

I shook my head with the hope of clearing away my distraction, but all six feet, seven inches of it was still standing there in the alley with me, towering over my five-foot frame.

The amulet pulsed and scorched my palm. Where my good senses failed me, the charm's increasing temperature set me back on track.

It was a damned good thing, too. If I stood there staring at Griffin's irritatingly handsome face any longer, I ran the risk of losing my perp—and my heart.

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