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“You saucy minx.” I grinned, winked, and went back to work with my make-up brush, giving her cheeks an extra glow.

The truth was, I loved these quiet moments with the dead, when it was just the two of us and I could infuse them with life again as I imagined how vibrant they’d been. There was no such thing as a boring person whose life had been wasted, as far as I was concerned. Even if their families never knew that side of them, I was certain that everyone I’d ever shepherded through the last bits of their corporeal existence had lived an incredibly interesting inner life.

“What do you think?” I asked as I brushed a hint of lip color over Mrs. Reynolds’s thin lips. “Did I make a mistake in being too forward with Marco? He didn’t have any complaints about what we did. I haven’t seen him since then, but it’s barely been forty-eight hours, and everyone is busy planning the Halloween party at Common Grounds on Thursday.”

I paused to survey my handiwork and imagined what advice Muriel would give me.

“You’re right.” I nodded. “I’m definitely overthinking this. I like Marco. He likes me. We’re two consenting adults, and it isn’t the first time for either of us. I should enjoy whatever happens between us without second-guessing whether he likes me. I think it’s pretty clear he does.”

I smiled at that thought, too. Confidence was not my strong suit, particularly when it came to people liking me and not thinking I was weird as fuck, but Marco had only ever been warm and open with me.

More than open, he sometimes looked at me like I was a treasure.

My face heated to the point where I could give Mrs. Reynolds a run for her money with the blush. And it was just my luck that that was the state I was in when Marco himself stepped into the dressing room doorway with a, “Hey, Bastian. There you are. No one was in—whoa.”

I pivoted to meet Marco’s wide, round eyes, but he was staring at Mrs. Reynolds in her final repose. A bolt of fear shot through me. He was going to think I was such a freak, and he’d never want to talk to me again.

Marco dragged his gaze away from the casket and looked at me, beautiful mouth softly parted in…what, shock? Horror? Disgust?

No, it was more like…like he was impressed.

He snapped his mouth shut a second later, then stammered, “I’m so sorry. No one was in the front office when I came in. The place was quiet, so I got nosey and came to look for you. I shouldn’t have intruded. This is clearly a private space.” And then he did something that won my heart over entirely. He looked at Mrs. Reynolds again and told her, “I’m so, so sorry.”

But then he backpedaled and fled the room.

“Please excuse me,” I told Mrs. Reynolds in the professional voice I used to speak to the bereaved. “I need to take care of this. You’re looking beautiful anyhow, so we could just call this done.” I reached for the lid of the coffin and closed it carefully, despite the sense of urgency beating like a drum in me. “Goodnight, sweet angel,” I told Mrs. Reynolds. “I hope we meet again in the Great Beyond so you can tell me all your naughty stories.”

It was totally in my head, but I imagined Mrs. Reynolds smiling at me before the lid closed on her.

When I was satisfied she would be alright, I pulled off the latex gloves I used whenever I made up a body and strode out into the hall. “Marco?” I called out, peeking into the reception room as I headed up to the office.

“I’m still here,” Marco said. I found him standing awkwardly in the office. “I just came over to let you know the guys want another quick planning meeting for the Common Grounds Halloween party, since there’s been a question about the costume theme.”

“Oh,” I said, a bundle of mixed emotions. I was thrilled Marco had come to find me in person instead of texting, but it would have been nice if he’d been there for personal reasons. Then again, it was exciting to think that the Meyers brothers actually wanted my opinion about their party.

“I can come back some other time, if you’re busy,” Marco said, still clearly anxious.

“No, I was just finishing up,” I said, reaching for the ties of the plain black apron I wore over my business suit. “Business hours are over anyhow, and Mrs. Reynolds’s service isn’t until tomorrow morning. I was just about to head upstairs for dinner.” A spark of boldness hit me, and I asked, “Do you want to come up?”

Marco seemed to lift to his toes for half a second. “Come up to your apartment?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool when inviting the guy I liked up to my home made me feel the exact opposite of calm and casual. “Sure. You’ve fed me twice now, and I have yet to return the favor.”

“You cook?” Marco looked intrigued.

I answered with a lopsided grin and, “I do something that marginally resembles cooking. Nothing close to what you can do.”

Marco burst into a broad smile. “Okay, then. I’d love to see what you can do.” He followed me as I headed out of the room to return my apron to the dressing room. “I mean, I already know what you can do with those amazing hands of yours.”

I froze. He froze. We looked at each other at the same time.

“I mean—shit. That’s not what I intended to say at all,” he blurted.

My eyebrows went up, more because that was the first time I’d heard him curse. Funnily enough, it didn’t quite fit for him.

I couldn’t let him feel awkward, so I said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

His pupils dilated as he smiled. I quivered from the inside out.