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she was so competent everywhere, so thoughtful and caring…it made me think she’d mess me up. Not physically. Emotionally. She’d touch me just right. It wouldn’t matter where on my body or with what part of hers. It would be the quiet assurance, the focused affection that would undo me.
    I’d had my share of sex before, but I’d never had anyone turn down the sheets for me to sleep.
    “Who usually sleeps here?” I asked.
    She glanced around at the bare walls and frilly curtains. “No one, I guess. It’s a guest room. Although…sometimes my sister stays here.” Her lashes veiled her eyes. “You can stand in for her.”
    My feelings toward Della were decidedly unsisterly. “Where is she now?”
    Those brown eyes met mine, and the pain in them stole my breath away. “I don’t know.”
    “Shit. I’m sorry.”
    Her lips pressed together. Shadows moved over her slender throat as she swallowed. I got the impression she was trying to get herself under control, and I regretted my line of questioning. Wasn’t it enough that she’d opened her home to me? She’d given me her trust, and I’d gone and dredged up painful thoughts.
    She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. That’s the thing about family. They’re connected to you, even when they’re not.”
    “That sounds…really good.”
    Her gaze sharpened. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
    “No. No family.” I hesitated. “I grew up in a group home.”
    Sympathy flashed through her eyes. “That must have been hard.”
    “Not too bad.” I hadn’t minded the repetitive meals or the small beds. I had minded the older boys who tried to take advantage, but I learned how to fight dirty even as a child. Then I got big, and no one had managed to best me since.
    She stepped closer and placed her hand on my arm. Just there, the lightest touch of fingertips to my forearm. I felt the impact like a blow, electric rain on my skin, a form of torture I never wanted to end.
    “I’m sorry.” Her voice had dropped low. There was an undercurrent there, something I couldn’t figure out yet. As if she wasn’t apologizing for my past…
    Then what? I wanted to decode her. As if she were an encrypted message we’d picked up from insurgents. But unlike the enemies I worked against, I would never use that knowledge against her.
    My throat felt dry. “What if I don’t want to sleep alone?”
    She smiled, the hint of mocking almost soothing. “Soldier, you look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up. You don’t have the energy to do anything but sleep.”
    Yeah, sex was probably out of the question. I had a semi being in the same room with her, but just because I had the equipment didn’t mean I should use it. Two days of no sleep had left me strung tight. And despite my exhaustion, I didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that fucking warehouse.
    She began caressing me, so light I almost didn’t notice it. Except for the way I hardened to full mast. And damn, that was clearly visible beneath the fleece fabric of my pants. But she wasn’t looking between my legs. Her eyes were trained on mine.
    “It’s more than just being tired, isn’t it?” she whispered.
    I swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “I can’t.” It was classified, for one thing. But even if I could’ve shared it, I never would’ve told her about the things I’d seen. There was no reason to give her nightmares too.
    Though judging from the shadows in her eyes, she had her own nightmares.
    “Lie down in the bed, soldier.”
    “Della?”
    “That’s an order.”
    Fuck, why was that so hot? I couldn’t help the streaks of lust that ran through me. Couldn’t do anything but obey her. Was it the tiredness making my skin overly sensitive? The slide of fleece against my skin, the embroidered eyelet duvet beneath my palms. The world felt more textured, more vibrant when she was in it.
    The bed