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wasn’t smiling.”
    “He doesn’t much, since he got home. Unless he’s with Rain. She’s bringing him back to himself, but it’s a long and slow process when you’ve seen and done the kinds of things he has during the war.”
    “You admire him.”
    “He’s a tough guy with a big heart. He suffers from PTSD, so wielding a knife in front of him, or sneaking up on him—not a good idea, sweetheart, if you want to live.”
    “You really were protecting me.”
    “I don’t think he’d hurt you, definitely not on purpose, but you never know what will set him off. He gets lost in flashbacks. He may not have seen you, but an enemy his mind is still fighting. I didn’t want to take a chance. Like I said, he’s better now that he’s back with Rain and the girls.”
    “What if that other man comes back?” Tears clogged her throat and made her words stilted and shaky.
    Owen cupped her face. Their gazes locked. They held their breath. She thought he’d kiss her, but he never moved. Despite standing between her thighs, he maintained a protective yet safe distance. He didn’t crowd her, or press into her like a lover. No, he stayed on that side of the boundary of comfort versus intimacy.
    “It’s late,” she mumbled to break the lengthening silence.
    He didn’t move away, but the ready-to-pounce muscles relaxed and an ease came over him. She wondered how he held himself back like that, when all she wanted to do is leap into him and every hot encounter his eyes promised.
    “Yeah, too late to pretend I don’t want you, and you don’t want me.”
    “I don’t even know you.”
    “Yeah, you do, or you wouldn’t have let me back into your house tonight. We’ll get to the details over time.”
    “You’re not a man who takes no for an answer.”
    “Sweetheart, you never said no, either with words or actions, judging by the way you’re holding tight to me right now.”
    She unfisted her hands from his shirt, like she’d been holding on to a snake. He wanted her back. Bad.
    “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be. I’m not. Get used to me hanging around, because I’ll be watching out for you until they find Dale and lock him up for hurting you.”
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “He threatened your life. I take that very seriously, especially from a guy like him, who is willing to come here and nearly run you over with his car in the dead of night.”
    “Bad choice of words.”
    “Sorry.”
    “He was looking for you.”
    “Yeah, drunk and stupid he showed up to take me on with nothing but his bad attitude. Sweetheart, I’d have demolished him if I was here. When he sobers up, he’ll realize that, and next time he might not be so stupid and come better prepared.”
    “You really think he’ll be back.”
    “If he wises up, no. But Dale has yet to prove he uses his brain for more than basic survival.”
    “Great.” She leaned her head to his shoulder and sighed heavily.
    “See, you’re already getting used to having me around.”
    She bolted upright again and glared at him, making him laugh. He’d pushed far enough and gave her some space, taking the mug beside her and going to the ancient fridge and filling it with milk. He put the mug in the microwave and set the timer.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Taking care of you. You’ll get used to that, too.”
    “Owen.”
    “Claire, relax. Take a breath. It’s been a long night. The sun will be up in about two hours. I feel guilty as hell about what happened and you getting hurt. Let me do this for you.”
    She planted her hands on the counter and let her head fall between her shoulders. She didn’t so much acquiesce as she didn’t argue further, which gave him an opening to get to know her better.
    He stirred chocolate mix into the mug of hot milk, grabbed the whip-cream can from the fridge, and squirted a generous mound on top. Just for fun, he squirted a heap into his mouth and ate it up, smiling. She smiled back and took the mug, licking the sweet