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Where’s the tequila?”
    Tanner chuckled. “I’ll have a beer for now. The tequila can go along with dessert. We can do body shots.”
    He hid his smile as Mac choked slightly. After putting on his oven mitts, Tanner slid the pan out and carried it to the table. Mac set the salad and beers down before snagging Tanner as he walked by.
    They stared into each other’s eyes, and Tanner grew uncomfortable. What was Mac searching for as he looked into Tanner’s face? Would he find it? Tanner shifted, and Mac let him go.
    “You know, this probably isn’t a good idea. No one knows I’m gay. At least no one with the rangers. I’m not sure I want any of them to know. And getting involved during a case could cause problems. We can’t afford to be distracted.”
    Tanner knew what Mac was talking about.
    “Probably not, but I don’t want to wait until this case gets solved. Maybe once my lust is quenched, I can hold out until afterward.” He winked but became serious again. “Don’t worry. I’m an adult, and I can ensure my private life doesn’t mix with my job. I won’t attack you in the middle of the bureau office or anything. I understand your reasons. My boss knows I’m gay. I figure if he knows, no one can blackmail me to keep it a secret. You know what? Why don’t we worry about that later? Nothing’s going to be solved tonight.”
    “Okay,” Mac agreed.
    They sat, and Tanner dished out the food. Mac took a bite and moaned.
    “This is really good. Reminds me of the food José made.”
    “Really? José was a good cook?” Tanner bit back all the other questions he wanted to ask. The set of Mac’s shoulders and face told Tanner the man was very private and didn’t share personal information freely.
    Tanner didn’t blame him. Most people had skeletons in their closets they didn’t want to see the light of day. He respected Mac’s privacy.
    “Only those traditional Mexican dishes. José never really got the hang of cooking American food.” Mac laughed softly. “There were times I’d kill for a hamburger and fries.”
    “I know what you mean. My mother worked a lot, so she didn’t have time to make dinner most nights for me. When I was fourteen, she taught me how to cook, except her favorite dishes were all Mexican. I eventually learned how to fix other types, yet I tend to fall back on her recipes when I want to impress someone.”
    “Was your father around?” Mac frowned at his plate, looking like he hadn’t meant to ask the question.
    “Not since I was three or four. It was hard at times, but Mama and I helped each other.” Tanner sighed. “She died last year.”
    Mac covered his hand and squeezed. “Sorry to hear that. I lost José about five years ago, and there wasn’t ever anyone but the two of us.”
    “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” He lifted their entwined fingers and brushed a kiss over Mac’s knuckles. “Let’s get all the depressing stuff out of the way. I really want to get back to making out with you.”
    They let go of each other and by mutual agreement kept conversation to the minimum while they ate. Once they were finished, they cleaned up and took the bottle of tequila into the living room, where the folders from the case sat on the coffee table. They stared at the manila pile for a moment.
    “Okay. I think the ME figured out all the victims were killed by the same knife, giving us the right to assume he has an affinity with knives. He likes to torture them first. Each one has signs of struggling on her wrists and legs. Yet he doesn’t rape them, or at least there are no signs of sexual penetration.” Tanner flipped open the top folder and pulled out the wide shot of how the victim was displayed.
    Mac rumbled low in his throat, and Tanner shot him a glance. Rage simmered in the man’s eyes. There was something different about this victim, Tanner knew it, because while there had been a certain urgency in Mac’s voice when they first met, there hadn’t been