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ever touch her again, will you?"
    "No,” he squeaked out, defeated.
    Dionysus inhaled and let his prey go, smoothing down his collar. He grinned at him, then reached for the flour invoice. With one, clean rip, he shredded the document. “Oh, and by the way, this shipment just came free of charge. Now, you might want to leave before I forget my capacity for forgiveness."
    Josie clapped her jaw shut and stared at her hero. She wasn't sure if she was more shocked that he'd come to her aid, or that he'd look so tortured while doing so. Either way, he'd done a very nice thing.
    She'd have to put extra whipped cream in his coffee next time.
    Nelson vacated the bakery and tore away in his truck. Only then did Dionysus turn to her, asking quietly, “Are you okay?"
    "Yeah. Thanks."
    "No sweat.” He grinned at her, back in control, then began to walk away. “Oh, and Josie..."
    "Uh-huh?"
    "Next time you see your brothers, tell them they either need to change your shift, or they need to drag their asses out of bed to help you. It's not safe for you to be here alone like this. If they don't change things, I'll be forced to take my valued patronage elsewhere. And I know I'm your favorite customer. I'm sure you'd hate to see me go."
    With that, he grinned again and disappeared back into the bakery, the fragrance of taste bud-tantalizing wine wafting away with him.
    And for ten whole minutes, Josie couldn't move, so grateful her heart was thumping.
    And so turned on, she needed a new pair of panties.
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    Chapter 2
    Several days later, Dionysus sat in the Marino Brothers Bakery, glaring into his coffee. The one Josie had garnished with a thick dollop of real whipped cream. And a cruller on the side, no charge. She'd been doing that for him all week. Adding little treats for him on the house because she was clearly incapable of articulating her thanks without food.
    She was from an Italian family.
    The day after Nelson made his clumsy play for her, she'd added chocolate shavings to his coffee, turning it from a thing of beauty into a thing of perfection. The next day, she'd saved him a homemade scone with velvety clotted cream on top. The day after, one of her killer cannoli, the ones she baked herself for the business. By tomorrow, Dionysus worried she'd be emptying the contents of the bakery fridge onto his lap.
    Still, it was nice. More than nice. Fucking incredible was the description that kept racing through his head. He just didn't know what to do about it. The only gratitude he was used to receiving was from women in his bed.
    He was a love god, after all.
    Not officially the god of love. That role was taken. Still, every god had some good lovin’ in him,
    Josie wouldn't know that gods existed, at least, Greek ones anyway. She thought he was a Dionysus. The poor dear had no idea he was the Dionysus.
    His resume sprang to mind. Dionysus from the old myths. Greek god of wine and theater. Lover of orgies. Son of Zeus. Centuries old. Friend to maenads everywhere.
    That Dionysus.
    And what she also didn't know was, since meeting her, he'd felt distinctly ungodly. Something was wrong with him. Something that she'd caused. And it had him more on edge than when his father Zeus's wife Hera was gunning for him in the old days, despising him for being Zeus's bastard son.
    That was why he'd called Eryx and Maia and asked them to join him for a coffee at Josie's bakery. Until recently, Eryx had been a Greek god, too. The aforementioned god of love, specifically, son to Aphrodite and Ares. But he gave all that up for the sake of his mortal love, Maia. In order to save her from a vengeful goddess, Eryx had relinquished his immortality, had given up everything that had ever made him special. Had become human to save her from becoming a lost soul. And Dionysus knew all about it because he'd been there that day. He'd seen the torment Eryx's body had endured, the agony Maia had been in while watching him.
    He'd seen