Nothing in his life had an ounce of propriety to it. Asking her in for warmth was exactly that. His time was getting shorter with every moment they stepped into public view. This life would be over for him any day. The near miss with his friendly D.A. was a hearty reminder. Gemma would be gone along with all this frickin’ finery. Forever. Why not have a memory that could last as long too? He motioned her toward the kitchen where the bird scratched a few seeds on the floor but otherwise remained quiet. Don’t be an idiot. Why would she bother with someone like you? Oh, right. Maybe because, for the moment, I’m not me—I’m him. And sadly, he wouldn’t even notice her. The idiot. Bam. Bam. Bam. The door rattled behind them as they moved toward the bar. Gemma jolted and dropped her bag. He lunged down, scooping it just before her fingers brushed his. “Someone’s at the door,” she whispered. Neither of them moved.
