"I have utterly corrupted you, haven't I," he says. It's not a complaint. "Tight-laced, proper Warden Nathaniel Howe, worried about people talking after we'd kissed."

His voice is warm honey, all affectionate teasing as closes the door and sets his cat down before looping his arms around Nate's waist. "As much as I'd love to lay you down in a field of green, I'm the spirit healer on call tonight if one of us is urgently needed. But," he shifts up to stand on his toes to kiss the tip of Nate's nose, "I'd gladly hear about your day or make out with you here. Or both."