“Romantic. Like in the movies.” I leaned in and kissed a dimple. “No, wait!” I hopped out of his arms, leaned into him again, placed the back of one hand over my brow, then bent backwards, hoping he’d catch me.

He did. First one arm went around my waist to keep me from falling; then the other went under my knees. “And this?” he asked, lifting me into his arms.

I arched farther back. “It’s even more romantic,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. “Like in a paperback novel, when the Duke of Hastings catches the girl who has just fainted into his arms.”

He stopped then, and the world was ours. There were no onlookers. No cars whizzing by or people talking a short distance away. It was just the two of us.

He pulled me against his chest and I nestled my head into the crook of his neck, but I kept my arms limp at my side. I had a role to maintain, and being an English debutante in the middle of an Albuquerque parking lot was not as easy as it might seem.

“And what does the duke do with her?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Completely lifeless, I let my head fall back again, effectively giving him access to my neck. “Whatever he desires.”

He took advantage, causing a slew of microscopic earthquakes to quiver through me.

I had to run a couple of errands with Reyes in tow, but when I was done, I dropped him off at his office, aka the kitchen of Calamity’s, then headed up to my office, which sat above said bar and grill. I had a special package and a couple of bags hampering my normally pantherlike movements. Thus, with arms filled to the brim, I missed a stair and had to drop to one knee to keep from falling back, ramming the edge of said stair into my shin and causing a sharp pain to rocket through me. I cursed just loud enough for the whole of Albuquerque to hear.

“You okay?” Teri called up to me from the bar. I’d taken the inside stairs, but the only barrier between Teri and me was an intricate wrought-iron balustrade. My misstep was visible for all to see. Thankfully, they were still minutes away from opening for the day.

“I’m good,” I said, but Reyes’s head was out the door of the kitchen instantly. “No, I’m good.” I had to assure him I wasn’t being attacked by a hellhound. “Go back to work. Nothing that an ice pack and a mild surgical procedure can’t fix.” My shin was throbbing and each movement after caused a jolt of agony.

I struggled to my feet as he looked on and continued up the stairs to the back entrance of my offices. I was carrying precious cargo. I was on a mission, and no stair on earth was going to stop me. Of course, if I’d tumbled down them, knocking my head a few times and landing in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, that might have stopped me.

The coolest thing about this bar was the old-fashioned ironwork laced in with the dark woods of the pub. The metalwork led to an ancient iron elevator no one actually used, because it was as slow as molasses in the Artic, but it looked awesome. I’d secretly wanted to live in this building for a long time. It was built by the same people who’d made our apartment complex. But that building had no elevator, iron or otherwise.

I had to shift a bag or two so I could open the door, but I managed to get myself inside.

“Honey, I’m home!” I called out to Cookie.

She leaned forward to look at me from her desk in the next room. “What in God’s name are you carrying?”

I put all the bags down but one and walked to stand in front of her desk. “This,” I said, pride swelling in my chest as I held up a clear bag filled mostly with water, “is Belvedere.”

“You bought a goldfish?”

“Yep.” I was putting the bag on a stack of papers, which Cookie whisked away before I set my goldfish down completely; then I went back for the other bags, one of which contained a round fishbowl. “I’m practicing.”

She watched with mild curiosity as I walked into the restroom and filled the bowl with water.

“I know I’ll regret this, but practicing for what?”

“Motherhood.” I rubbed my belly to demonstrate. “I’m pregtastic.”

“I know you’re pregtastic.”

“I should hope so. Either that or your rubbing my belly is completely inappropriate.”

“I just like saying hi to her,” she said defensively. “But what does a goldfish have to do with your condition?”

“The way I see it, if I can keep Belvedere here alive, I can keep a kid alive. And that’s half the battle, right?” I untied the knot at the top of the clear bag and started to pour Belvedere into his new home. “Moving day!” I said happily.

Cookie lunged across the desk – and caught the bag just in the nick of time, if her relieved expression was anything to go by. She cradled Belvedere and glanced at me accusingly. It was weird. I never thought she’d be so protective of a fish.

“You’re still my number one,” I said, teasing.

“First of all,” she volleyed, retying the knot, “you can’t just toss a goldfish into water that has not been treated and is not the same temperature as what the fish is already living in.”

I blinked. “Why the hell not?”

“Because. Our water has all kinds of crap in it that’s bad for him, and it’s a different temperature than what he’s in right now, so if you dump him into it, he’ll go into shock and die. Didn’t the clerk at the store tell you that?”

“I’m not sure.” I thought back. “Reyes kissed my neck while she was talking. I was so enamored, I kind of tuned her out.”