I handed it to him anyway, as I passed by, but he touched my elbow, stopping me.

“Another place to get weapons. A bit on the darker side, but better made. I think you’ve got the guts to go get something. Maybe.” Bob-John held out a card and I took it without slowing much. Then I was through a door, and inside an explosion of color and smells that made my mouth instantly fill with saliva.

The candy shop was all sugar and no spice, and I couldn’t resist buying two large handmade suckers. Purchases in hand, I was out the door in under two minutes. I found Sarge by his bike, glowering until I held out one of the sweets.

He blinked a few times. “Really, you bought it for me?”

I grinned. “They didn’t have any dog biscuits, so I figured this would have to do.”

I thought he’d growl at me.

He laughed and took the sucker and popped it into his mouth, speaking around it. “Smart ass. But we aren’t done here. You have to talk to Annie still.”

Annie? My brain stuttered a minute as I tried to connect the name to a face, and when I remembered, I wanted to groan. Not because of her, but because of where she was. At the top of the freaking stairs.

“The lady who runs the tarot card shop?”

Sarge took my new bag that had all my goodies in it and put it on top of the seat of his bike. I stared at him. “I don’t want to leave my stuff out here.”

“No one will touch it, I promise.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Why, because you have a protective spell on your bike?”

“Exactly.”

Well . . . damn. I didn’t know what to say. That was not really what I’d been expecting.

And just like that, I ended up having to do the stairs again after all.

“Carry me,” I yelled at Sarge as he jogged ahead of me this time. “I bought you sweets!”

I was gasping as I tried to keep up, not because I had to, but because a small part of me wanted to be able to do it effortlessly. I wanted to be that girl.

That woman who could run the guys into the ground.

I mean, I wasn’t, but I wanted it.

His laughter carried back, and I silently cursed him and the long, muscled legs that made this so easy for him. By the time I reached the top, I was huffing again, hating that I’d let myself put on that extra weight, and vowing that I’d do the stairs without puffing next time. No doubt my face was bright red too—curses of the Irish blood and the strawberry blond hair with pale skin. When I was hot, it showed.