Jenks snickered and flitted off to corral his kids back into the desk. Ivy gave Kisten a last look, and walked out of the sanctuary. Sooner than I would have expected, the TV blared. I ran my eyes over Kisten, thinking he looked as far away from his biker image as a goat is to a tree.

“Kisten,” I said, putting a hand to my necklace. “What does this…say?”

He leaned close. “Confidence. Not looking for anything, but naughty behind closed doors.”

I stifled a thrill-invoked shudder when he pulled away. Okay. That…works.

“Let me help you with your coat,” he said, and a sound of dismay came from me as I followed him into the foyer. My coat. My ugly, ugly coat with the fake fur around the collar.

“Ouch,” Kisten said, his brow furrowed in the dim light seeping in from the sanctuary as he saw it. “Tell you what.” He shrugged out of his coat. “You can wear mine. It’s unisex.”

“Now wait up,” I protested, taking a step back before he could put it on me. “I’m smarter than that, fang-boy. I’ll end up smelling like you. This is a platonic date, and I’m not going to break rule number one by mixing our scents before I even step out of my church.”

He grinned, his white teeth glinting in the dim light. “Got me dead to rights,” he admitted. “But what are you going to wear? That?”

A wince pulled my face tight while I looked at my coat. “All right,” I agreed, not wanting to ruin my new facade of elegance with fake fur and nylon. And there was my new perfume…“But I’m not putting this on to intentionally mix our scents. Understand?”

He nodded, but his smile made me think otherwise, and I let him help me slip into it. My gaze went distant as its heavy weight eased over my shoulders, comforting and warm. Kisten might not be able to smell me, but I could smell Kisten, and his lingering body warmth sank into me. Leather, silk, and the barest hint of a clean-scented after-shave made a mix I was hard-pressed not to sigh into. “Will you be okay?” I asked, seeing he had only his suit jacket.

“The car is already warm.” He intercepted my reach for the door, his hand touching mine atop the handle. “Allow me,” he said gallantly. “You’re my date. Let me act like it.”

Thinking he was being silly, I nevertheless let him open the door and take my arm as he helped me down the steps lightly dusted with snow. The snow had started shortly after sundown, and the ugly gray splotches kicked up by the snowplows were covered in pristine white. The air was crisp and cold, and there was no wind.