He looked down at me, seemed surprised I was wrapped around him again.
“Now would be good.”
“It’s…no, it’s not a big deal.” He drew his arms around me as if he couldn’t help himself, which I liked, and looked sort of embarrassed, which I didn’t like.
“It’s the cruiser? Something about the cruiser? About it being here?”
He hesitated a second, then exhaled. “It’s outside the lines.”
“I see. And that’s…important?”
One jerky nod.
“I didn’t know this would be a problem.”
“It isn’t. For you.” This time his gaze locked on mine. I saw more than embarrassment there. I saw a deep stubbornness.
“Because?”
“It’s…I notice all the breaks in contracts now. All of them.”
“Contracts?”
“Going over the speed limit, spoon on the wrong side of the plate, jay-walking.”
“Those are all things almost everyone does. Well, maybe not the speed limit breaking, but spoons and jay-walking? Not really contracts that have been broken. Just people making choices.”
“I know that. You knowIknow that. But I can’t ignore it. I can’tnotcare about it.”
“I told you being the snitch for a god of contracts came with some nasty side effects.”
“I am not a snitch. I’m a warden.”
“Mmm. Big difference.” I rubbed my hand down his back, enjoying the rise and fall of muscles, the dip of his spine.
“Being a warden is a lot liked being a cop.” He tightened his arms, shifted so our hips fit together better. I could feel one tension in his body sliding slowly into another.
“Not even a bit the same. You’re more like a legal consultant. Deal with contracts. Which means something signed.”
“‘A written or spoken agreement that is intended to be enforceable by law,’” he quoted like he’d memorized the entry in the dictionary.
“You can’t enforce cutlery placement, Miss Manners.”
“Do not laugh at me.”
“See me not laughing?”
“Oh, you’re laughing.” I liked how low and rumbly his voice had gotten.
“Is there some kind of rule against laughing? A contract enforceable by law, maybe?” I waggled my eyebrows.
He sighed and tipped his head up to the sky like he was looking for his patience to parachute in. “I don’t want to be so…this isn’tme.”
The fact that he’d foolishly agreed to become tied to a god, to do that god’s work here in Ordinary, must finally be soaking in.
“It’s you now, Ryder. But just one part of you.”
“That’s how you see what you do? Guardian of Ordinary. It’s just a job to you?”
