Chapter 5

He propped elbows on the counter, instead. “I take it back. You’re not a lawyer. You’re a cactus.”

“I’m a what,” Raine said, setting down his coffee-cup. Don considered this a success. “In what universe am I a succulent?”

“Prickly. Pointy. But softer inside. Full of water.” He had the feeling this was not helping. “Good for rescuing people when they’re lost and needing…water.”

“I don’t think you’re very good at either complimenting people or insulting them,” Raine said. “I can’t tell what that was meant to be.” But his eyes had gone softer, less spiky, almost curious. The green and gold flickered, reflective. This green was more complicated than the cheerful flirtation of the Sunrise Child, less pure but more multifaceted. Don liked the complications.

“Never mind,” he said, and slid a mug across the bar. “Try this.”

Raine regarded dark swirls with misgiving. “I don’t like sweet coffee.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like gifts.”