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her head. She reached up but she shouldn’t have bothered. Mitch was there, behind her, easily pulling a blanket from the closet. His superior height and strength was obvious.She could sense both, even though he wasn’t touching her. Jittery, tired and anxious about what was going to happen next, she knew her hormones were out of whack. That was the best explanation she could think of to explain how she was feeling around Mitch.
    He stepped away, bedding in hand. “This is great.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. You need a sheet and pillow.” And she needed something to do with her hands. She needed something to do with her mind. She needed something to do .
    Choosing a pale blue sheet, she yanked a matching pillowcase from a stack. “The extra pillows are way up on the top shelf,” she explained, moving away, letting him reach.
    He easily removed one of those, too.
    â€œI wish the sofa pulled out. You’re going to be uncomfortable all scrunched up.”
    He laughed. “Believe me, I’ve slept on a lot worse. You worry too much, Lily. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
    Her husband’s name came to her lips, but she didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. Mitch knew.
    He looked disconcerted for a second—just a second—but then he took the sheets from her arms. “Do you have a phone in your room?”
    â€œMy cell phone is in my purse. You brought that up with my suitcase. Why?”
    â€œIf you need something, call me. You might go to bed and an hour from now figure out you want a pack of crackers or a glass of milk.”
    There was only one way to answer with a man like Mitch. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
    But somehow they both knew she wouldn’t.
    She went to the door to her room, which was only a few feet away. He didn’t move until she stepped over the threshold and murmured, “Good night.”
    He gave her a slight nod, responded, “Good night, Lily,” and headed for the stairs.
    As she closed her door, she leaned against it and sighed. She wanted to make up the sofa for him so it would be comfortable.
    How silly a notion was that?
    Â 
    â€œWhat do you mean you sent Gina home?” Mitch demanded as he stood in Lily’s living room the following evening, a gift-wrapped box under one arm.
    â€œShe arrived before I was up this morning, as you know. She helped me ready the nursery. She took me to see the babies, and then I told her she should go home to her husband and son.”
    â€œAnd she just went?” He seemed astonished by that idea.
    â€œShe protested, but I plopped here on the sofa, told her I’d stay here, and she saw I meant it.”
    Lily was one exasperating woman! There was no doubt about that. But he had to admire her in spite of himself. “What did you do for dinner?”
    â€œWhat is this, the third degree?”
    He just arched a brow.
    â€œGina made a casserole for lunch and I had leftovers, with a salad and all that. What did you have?” she returned, almost cheekily.
    All day he’d thought about eating dinner with her last night…saying good-night at the end of the day, spending the night on her couch in the strong grip of an insomnia he knew too well. Yet that was better than wakingup in a sweat after too-real flashbacks or nightmares. Moments of sensual awareness when Lily had come downstairs this morning had been unsettling enough to push him on his way as soon as Gina had arrived.
    Answering her, he said, “I went to the drive-through at my favorite burger joint.” At her expression, he laughed. “Don’t look so outraged. I have to do that once a week to keep fit.”
    Lily laughed then, even though she tried not to. That was the first real laugh he’d heard from her since before—even he had trouble saying it sometimes—since before Troy had died. He wanted to keep her spirits up. “So…how are Sophie and