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Nothing. A few people walked down the sidewalk on the other side of the
street, but no one was watching her, not that she could tell, anyway.
    “Dammit,” she muttered. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this
way. For a few months now she’d thought someone was spying on her at random
times, but had never been able to figure out who it was. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. Her skin pricked even more, so she
hurriedly unlocked her car and drove away from the center of town, stomping a
little too hard on the gas on her way up the hill just past the last house. “You’re
imagining things, Charmeine,” she told herself irritably. “Too much work and
not enough rest. You know how you get.”
    Ten minutes later she pulled into her gravel driveway and turned
off her old Chevy, leaning her head on the steering wheel. The sudden lack of
air conditioning made the inside of the vehicle stifling in seconds as the
sun-warmed vinyl of the dashboard leached heat into the interior. When someone
tapped on her window, she jerked her head up, heart pounding, sure someone had
followed her home. Instead, Jeremiel pressed a finger to the glass, smiling at
her innocently. She stared at him dumbly as she willed her heart rate to slow
down.
    You’re safe. He’s a good guy, remember? He looked darkly handsome, his
blue eyes more intense than she recalled from this morning, if that was even
possible. The slow burn of arousal slid through her exhausted body, replacing
the fight-or-flight instinct with something equally dangerous.
    “Are you getting out?” he asked, voice muffled by the glass.
    She pulled herself together. “Yeah,” she said, opening the door.
The air outside wasn’t much cooler, but the breeze coming down off the
mountains was welcome. She lifted her sweat-soaked hair off her neck. “It was a
hell of a day.” She tried to ignore how good he looked, but it was difficult.
Even his worn jeans and faded blue t-shirt couldn’t disguise the perfection of
his body. She tore her eyes away, blushing. He wasn’t wearing any shoes.
    He closed the door for her. “We made you a sandwich and saved you
some melon.”
    She stopped on the sidewalk. “You cooked?” She couldn’t imagine
it. He seemed so extraordinary, more angelic than human, that she had trouble
with the idea of him in her humble kitchen. She tried to picture him wearing
her frilly apron and shook her head, laughing at herself. He never once
admitted he was an angel, you idiot.
    “I wouldn’t call it cooking,” Haniel called from her front porch. “But
we can throw together a sandwich as well as the next person.” He had on a pair
of old cargo shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. The white fabric made his eyes
seem luminous. Or was that just her libido going crazy? She rubbed her face,
grimacing. She had to shower before she collapsed. The grease from the grill
coated her skin unpleasantly.
    “Why don’t you take a cool shower? We’ll set the table for you and
then you can eat.” Haniel held open the screen door for her. “You look tired.
It’s the least we can do.”
    She walked past him into the cool dim of her house, ignoring the
tingle in her spine as her arm brushed his. “Thanks. I am pretty tired.
It was a busy day.”
    Jeremiel followed her in. “Go. Relax. There’s nothing else for you
to do today.”
    She walked up the stairs, a little confused, but also a lot
grateful. She hadn’t been looking forward to fending for herself. She could put
up with a bit of coddling, right? Even if it came from two men who set her
heart racing in a way that she couldn’t understand.
    ****
    The next week passed much the same way as Friday, with Haniel and
Jeremiel making simple meals for her when she got home from work. She didn’t
feel anyone watching her anymore, for which she was grateful. Her nerves were
already shot from living with two men. She’d thought she’d enjoy their company,
and she did, but she also struggled with the crackling attraction