We stood there and held each other for a while, the silence not tense but relieved. We'd worked out a solution we could both live with. I had to admit, I was happy to have Ashur there. This was really nice, especially when I hadn't been expecting to see him so soon. I just wished it wasn't under such terrible circumstances.

"I better go get Omari," I said, stepping back.

"Okay."

"I'll be right back." I left the apartment and went over to Jacob's. He opened the door almost before I could knock.

"You all right?" he asked, concern clear in his expression. "I was about to go over there and knock. Make sure he didn't just tie you up and carry you out caveman style."

"Almost," I said ruefully. "And it's your fault," I accused. "Tattletale."

I wasn't really angry about it anymore. I knew he'd done it because he was worried about me. He cracked a smile, but it faded as he looked at me.

"I care more about your well-being than I do if you like me," he said quietly. "Though I hope you still do," he tacked on.

It was too hard to stay mad at him. Especially when he was my best supplier of sweet things.

"I still like you," I said, rolling my eyes. "But it was a close call. I might need some bribes in the form of baked goods."

"Hmm. Well, I'm glad I came out on top in the end. And you can have as many brownies as you want."

"Mia!" Omari cried out from behind Jacob. "Do you want to see the knife Jacob was showing me?"

"Why not?" I said.

He'd been such a good kid. Jacob invited me in with a sweep of his arm. I walked in and Omari grabbed my hand, leading me over to the display to the side of the living room. This was where Jacob kept his more ornamental collection on display.

"Look, Mia!" Omari urged, pointing at the pretty blade set on a small holder, careful not to touch it.

Good. Jacob must have given him the speech about safety. The hilt was actually encrusted with small pearls, the sheath a pretty ivory color. Very pretty. When Jacob picked it up and took it out of the scabbard, I could also see that it was sharp and well made.

"Very nice," I said, taking it when he held it out, testing its weight, careful not to touch that razor-sharp edge.

"Got it from a vendor that was passing through," he remarked. "Caught my eye."

"Well, let me know when that vendor comes through again," I said. "That's good quality."

"I will."

I handed it back to him, smiling. Omari and I headed out of Jacob's place after that. It was easier than it would have been to get him out if Ashur hadn't been waiting back in our apartment. Omari almost skipped over there.

"Thanks Jacob," I said quietly as I stepped out into the hall. "You're a good friend."

"Any time," he murmured. "Just call if you need me."

"Same goes for you," I tossed over my shoulder as I stepped away.

"I know," he said with a slight smile. Though it had an edge of almost . . . sadness? Wistfulness? That couldn't be right. Before I could ask him if everything was all right, he shut the door. Feeling a little unsettled, I walked back over to our door.

Ashur was waiting in the doorway, his eyes on Jacob's closed door, his expression still. His eyes turned back to me as I walked up. He stepped back into the apartment.

"Do you want dinner duty or homework duty?" I asked as we both walked in.

"Homework duty," he replied immediately. "I think I can handle a six-year-old's workload."

That's what he thought.

I went into the kitchen and started dinner as Ashur learned how hard it was to get a six year old bursting with energy to sit down and focus for five minutes. At least I was entertained while I cooked. And it was sweet to see how patient he was with Omari, though I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. There were a lot of children in Ashur's skein and he had a lot of interaction with his people.

When Omari finished his work, I gave him a snack to tide him over until dinner and then sat down next to the two of them on the couch to watch an animated movie.

This was nice, but dangerous. I could almost imagine us all sitting like this every day, and I really didn't want to. It would hurt all the more if everything went to shit. And there was a chance of that happening, no matter how certain Ashur seemed to be that things between us were going to work out.

It was just that everything was so . . . complicated. I tried to shove my worries to the side and stay in the moment. The future would take care of itself whether or not I was worrying about it.

After the movie, we ate dinner, and then it was time for Omari to start his bedtime routine. Ashur went in again to read him a book while I cleaned up quickly.

I took a moment to check my email again. Still no reply to the email I sent. I closed it down as Ashur came back out, not wanting to bring everything up again.

He settled next to me and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side. I snuggled in, sighing, enjoying the closeness and the comforting feel of him against me.

"I don't want to think about anything right now," I murmured. "Want to watch something stupid and veg out?"

He kissed my temple and settled in.

"Bring on the stupid," he said easily. "It's right in my comfort zone."

"Good. If you only liked period pieces or documentaries, this might not have worked out."

He looked over at me, a wicked glint in his eye.

"I'm sure I would have managed to work around that severe flaw," he said.

I rolled my eyes. He was probably right though. Didn't mean I'd give him the satsifaction. He'd just hold it over my head.

I turned on an old slapstick comedy I didn't have to pay much attention to and shut off my brain. We laughed and made comments and cuddled. It was just what I needed, but I was exhausted. I don't know when I fell asleep.

I woke up when Ashur picked me up and carried me inside to the bed.

"I can walk," I protested.

"We're already here," he responded mildly, setting me down on the bed.

He took off my shoes and jeans and followed suit, slipping in next to me. I could get used to this so easily. His body was warm and solid against my back as he moved in to wrap an arm around my waist. Warm and tired, I dropped back into sleep quickly.

When I awoke again the next morning, it felt like I had just closed my eyes, but I did feel rested. And warm. And comfortable.

"Morning," Ashur rumbled in his early-morning voice.

"Morning."

I wiggled around and gave him a kiss.

Then I glanced at the clock and threw the covers to the side.

"Time to get Omari ready for school," I announced, hopping up and pulling on my pajama pants that were on the floor.

Ashur threw an arm over his eyes. He'd taken his shirt off, so I was treated to a mouthwatering view of his muscled arm and chest. I sighed internally. No time. And no privacy right now.

Ashur raised his arm a little and looked at me hopefully.

"Not right now," I warned, walking over to Omari's bed. It was half an order to myself.

"All right," Ashur grumbled good-naturedly as he rolled out of bed too. "I'll get breakfast started."

"Thank you," I said gratefully, gently shaking Omari awake.

His eyes snapped open. And he barreled out of bed at full charge, as usual. I was really jealous of that ability.

"Hi Ashur!" he said excitedly, bouncing on his toes in his excitement.

"Hey, Omari," Ashur said, grinning. "Better get ready so you have time to eat my world-famous pancakes."

"World famous?" he said, his eyes round.

Ashur nodded gravely.

"I'm hurrying!" Omari ran to the bathroom.

"World famous?" I repeated skeptically.

"I can make dinosaur shapes," Ashur said with a wink. "One of my many talents."

I chuckled, shaking my head. Between the two of us, we got Omari ready to go and got ready ourselves too pretty efficiently. Having an extra pair of hands around was beyond useful. We even dropped Omari off early. It was usually a struggle for me to get him there right in the nick of time.

As Ashur and I walked into the school, I saw more than a few heads turn to give him a second look. I couldn't blame them. He wasn't the type of guy who could blend in. And it wasn't just his height or good looks, which would have been enough. He just had a . . . presence. He wasn't someone that you could easily ignore when he was in the vicinity.

I did worry that I might be getting a . . . reputation. First with Jacob. Now with Ashur. With my scraped face and everything else, I could only imagine the rumor mill was going crazy.

Ashur carried himself as well as he did anywhere—smiling back at people and somehow looking more relaxed than I did. Being Dragon Lord probably gave you a self-confidence boost. Maybe I could start calling myself Lord Mia, Queen of Packages. Maybe not so much. That didn't sound right at all.

The couple of kids who saw Ashur also stared, their eyes wide as they took him in. He probably looked like a superhero to them. He was just so much taller and more built than any of the other men there. How did he keep what he was under wraps? Maybe people really did see what they wanted to.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we left Omari at school. More attention always made me just feel like more of a target.

"I just need to drop by the office before going on the first job," I said as we fell in step with everyone else on the sidewalk.

"All right," Ashur said easily, his eyes constantly moving, checking out everyone nearby. "Works for me."

He got a few looks on the street too as we walked. Unobtrusive he was not.

When we got to the office, Ashur looked around and sat down in one of the chairs across the desk from me.

"I know it isn't much," I said as I took my seat and powered on my computer. "But it's mine."

"It's . . . uncluttered," he said, smiling. "Like you."

I smiled at that as I brought up my email.

"You sweet-talker you."

He chuckled, bringing out a slim pad to work on while we sat. At least he could get some stuff done too, hopefully. I went through the emails that had come in since last night as quickly as I could. Still nothing from the anonymous tipper. He or she probably wasn't going to reply.

If they wanted me to know their identity, they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of making sure they remained anonymous.

Or maybe this whole mess was over.

I could dream, right?

"All right, ready," I said, shutting down my computer.

Ashur slipped the pad back into his pocket and said, "Let's go."

The first stop was a restaurant not that far from my office. I had instructions to ask the guy behind the counter for the mail and he was supposed to hand off the package I had to deliver. I didn't see the need for code words or phrases, but sometimes it made the client feel cool, so I let it slide. Not my business what got other people's rocks off.

"Can you wait out here?" I asked Ashur as we stopped across the street from the place. "You're kind of a lot to take in."

The front of the restaurant was glass. We could see a couple of people sitting at the tables towards the front, though I didn't know if they were diners this early.

"I think I should go in with you," Ashur said, frowning. "And what do you mean 'a lot'?"

"You're just . . . intimidating," I explained. "And you can watch me the whole time," I pointed out reasonably. "It's all windows."

He sighed, scanning the place and the sidewalk in front of it, obviously weighing pros and cons.

"All right, fine. But I'm coming in if I'm even a little suspicious something is off," he warned. "I don't care if it screws up the job if I think you might get hurt."

"Deal," I said immediately. I knew I wasn't going to get a better offer from him. "Be back in a sec."

He stepped back and leaned against the wall, his eyes focused on the restaurant already. I knew nothing was going to get past him.

I crossed the street quickly and opened the door to the place, the tinkling of a tiny bell sound bringing everyone's attention over to me. The restaurant was a fusion cuisine place, a mixture of Korean, Indian, and Italian food. The smells were pretty interesting. Maybe I'd come back later some time to try the food out. Other than the food, the actual ambience of the place was pretty standard, with tile flooring, small tables to fit in the most diners in the cramped space, and a counter to order at.

Now that I was inside, I could see that the people at the small tables weren't customers. The thin man with the balding head was working on some kind of ledger, and the heavier set man towards the back was on a small computer, typing away with his large fingers. How did he manage to type on that tiny thing with fingers that large?

"How can I help you, miss?"

I turned at the voice. The guy behind the counter was attractive in a slimy kind of way, with slicked back hair and a smooth shaven face, his smirk suggestive. I disliked him on sight. But liking him wasn't part of the job.

I walked up to him. "Do you have the mail?" I asked quietly.

His eyes cooled and sharpened, his smirk disappearing.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his eyes scanning me, lingering on my chest. Not that there was much to see there. Probably just habit. "I don't know you."

"I'm just the courier," I said calmly, but my hand was rubbing the hilt of a knife.

This was starting to feel like I'd walked into something more than a simple pickup.

"They were told specifically to come on their own," he said quietly. "This shows a lack of respect and trust that we don't appreciate."

"I'm just doing my job," I said. "Maybe you should talk to my client if you have concerns."

I heard the scrape of a chair against the floor behind me. When I glanced back, the heavier set man was reaching over to push a button. The windows all went black.

"Maybe the pretty . . . courier they sent is a good way to send a message," the thin man added as he stood as well. "Since they didn't seem to understand our talk."

This was going downhill fast. I took a step towards the door, but the heavier man stepped neatly in front of it.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart," he said in a surprisingly high voice for someone so large, his eyes scanning me in a way that made me want to take a shower.

I slipped two knives out as the man behind the counter opened the little door that closed the space off from the rest of the restaurant.

Okay.

Three guys.

Not great.

I braced my feet, ready to defend myself. Whatever they had in mind to do, I knew I wasn't going to let them. Not without a fight that would make them regret it. The tinkling of bells had all of us turning to the door.

Ashur stepped inside, his eyes scanning the place.

The heavyset man turned around with a scowl.

"Hey, buddy, we aren't open—"

Ashur's face didn't change as he picked up the rotund man and easily tossed him across the room. I blinked as he crashed into two tables, breaking them on way to the floor.

He hit with a meaty thud.

The other two men stared at their friend, lying in a pile of broken table fragments, his surprisingly flat butt up in the air. Guess that wasn't where the calories went for him.

"We'll just be leaving," Ashur said smoothly. "I'm sure you understand."

Uh huh. Sounded good to me. I strode over to him. He stayed in the doorway as I stepped out onto the street, his eyes locked on the men still standing.

The round guy was groaning as he slowly got up.

"Gentlemen," Ashur said quietly, following me out.

The other two stayed in place as they watched us leave, not making any move to follow.

Maybe having Ashur around while I was working wasn't so bad after all.