"How do I look?" I asked with a dopey grin as I readjusted the tie around my neck in the drop-down, sun visor mirror. "Gorgeous, right?"

With the world beyond the safety of the car bright and almost cheerful, Deacon had taken advantage of the almost sunny weather and was sporting a pair of wrap-around Ray-bans. He flicked them up at my question, setting them on the top of his messy black hair.

"You," he said, shifting in his seat so that he was facing me, "Are always gorgeous. Today, you just look very well put together. Hell, dare I say it, like a fine, upstanding citizen."

"Don't take the...