Lawrence asked. “Selena said to be gentle with you when she dropped you off.” “Selena also told Aunt Cate not to let me out tonight. We both know Aunt Cate’s going to kick me out to go look for crazed murderers as soon as she gets the chance.” “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” “The good witch of Cook County thinks I’m the one to handle this problem.” “Well, she could be wrong,” Lawrence suggested. Ivy looked up from the kitchen table at Lawrence. She was holding a cup of tea between her palms. There was a book in her lap, but for once she had no interest in reading. She’d been staring into the amber liquid, appreciating the warmth, the fragrant scent. It reminded her of Christopher. Oh, Goddess. It didn’t help that he’d showed up in an erotic dream earlier in the day that still had her nerves jangling with yearning for sex. At least she’d stopped crying. “I’m doing fine,” she finally answered Lawrence’s question. “How are you doing?”
