“Hey!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice when two passing women glanced at us. “Ivy had something to do with yesterday.”

Jenks shrugged, extending his legs and clasping his hands behind his head. “Yeah. She did come up here after you. ’Course, I think part of that was her knowing you might take the opportunity after you did jumping jacks in Kisten’s sweats. It didn’t take much convincing on her part to bite you, did it? Nah, you were primed and ready to go, and she knew it.”

Damn it, he was laughing at me. My brow furrowed, and I shoved the fudge back in a bag and out of his reach. I was not that stupid. I did not live my life trying to get into trouble just so I could have a good time in bed.

“I always have a good reason for the things I do,” I said, peeved. “And my decisions don’t hinge on what might put excitement in my life. But since I quit the I.S., I’ve never had the chance to make good decisions—I’m always scrambling just to stay alive. Do you think I don’t want the little charm shop? The husband and two-point-two kids? A normal house with the fence and the dog that digs up my neighbor’s yard and chases their cat into a tree?”

Jenks’s gaze was even and calm, wise and even a bit sad. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sound of the pixies grew obvious. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you do.” I glared, and he added, “I think it would kill you quicker than going to see Piscary wearing gothic lace. I think managing to find a blood balance with Ivy is going to be the only way you’re going to survive. Besides…” He grinned impishly. “…no one but Ivy will put up with the things you need or the crap you dish out.”

“Thanks a hell of a lot,” I muttered, slumping with my arms crossed over my chest. Depressed, I stared at the pixies, then did a double take when I realized they’d killed the hummingbird and were gathering the feathers. Crap, pixies were wicked when threatened. “I am not that hard to live with.”

Jenks laughed loudly, and I glanced at him, drawn by the different sound. “What about your upcoming demand to be free to sleep with whoever you damn well please while sharing blood with her, knowing she’d rather have you sleep with her?” he asked.

“Shut up,” I said, embarrassed because that was one of the things I had on my list to talk to Ivy about. “She knows I’m never going to sleep with her.”

The man passing us turned, then whispered something to his girlfriend, who promptly eyed me as well. I grimaced at them, glad I was wearing a disguise.

“It takes an incredibly strong person to walk away from someone they love,” Jenks said, holding up two fingers as if making a list. “Especially knowing they will do something asinine, like shopping when their blood count is so low they ought to be in the hospital. You should give her credit for respecting you like that.”