They lay in silence, collapsed in each other’s arms, trying to catch their breath. They were silent when Finn picked her up and carried her into the shower. They were silent as they stood together, arms wrapped around each other, under the spray.

They were silent even as what started as the innocent washing of each other’s bodies turned into him pinning Charlie against the stall wall. The only sound was their desperate breathing and skin slapping against skin in their attempt to get closer.

The silence was unusual for them, but not awkward. So much needed to be said, but neither wanted to break their closeness to say it.

So . . .silence.

But that was a fantasy world. It wouldn’t protect him from Charlie, from a past that had left him broken and bleeding. No matter how much her body called to him, how perfect they were together, how much he wanted to lay her on the bed again and never let her out of it, some things never changed.

The worlds of Finn Bollinger and Charlotte Devereux did not mix.

She was the one who finally broke the silence. Sitting on his bed, back in one of his T-shirts—Finn painfully aware she had nothing on underneath it—she whispered, “I know you have questions.”

He didn’t want to respond. If he stayed silent, if he walked over to her and peeled that shirt from her body and told her to get on her hands and knees on the bed, she would do it. They would lose themselves again—as the silence turned into pants and groans and cries—as his body drove into hers. He was so damn tempted.

But even if he did it, they would still end up right back here.

He did have questions.

So, he broke the silence too. “I’ll make you something to eat while we talk. Annie said you need to eat as much high-calorie, nutritious food as you can.”

She nodded and suddenly getting answers was more important than getting inside her. Not something Finn would’ve ever thought would be true. “Can you make it to the kitchen?”

Her glare made him chuckle, which got him the look of death. She was so damned independent.

He still followed half a step behind her as she walked just in case she was weaker than both of them thought. She didn’t stumble, but he didn’t like how slowly she had to take it. He probably should’ve taken that into consideration when he was utilizing all her energy upstairs the last couple hours.

He pulled out a chair for her at the kitchen table, then moved to the refrigerator. He opened it without really seeing the items inside. There was one question he had to have answered first, before anything else. Something he probably should’ve asked before their lovemaking.

He didn’t turn to her. “I want you to tell me the truth about this one thing. Hell, I want you to tell me the truth about all of it, but this one question, Charlie . . .If there was ever anything between us at all, you have to promise me you’ll be honest about this.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He took a breath and faced her. “Are you ill? Like really sick, cancer or something? Is that why you were so weak last night?”

Surprise lit her eyes. “Finn, no. I promise. There’s nothing wrong with me like that.”

A relief so profound it took his breath away washed over him. She wasn’t dying. Everything else was secondary.

“I’m sorry that’s what you thought,” she whispered. “That I scared you that way.”

“What the hell else was I supposed to think? You’ve been asleep in my bed for over eighteen hours. You’re basically skin and bones.” He punctuated the sentence by bringing her a nutrition shake. The same kind he’d used when he first got custody of Ethan, full of the calories the small boy had needed. Just seeing those bottles gave him a sick feeling in his gut, and knowing Charlie needed them now did not help it go away.

“I guess I’ve been working a lot and haven’t really been taking care of myself the way I should.” She opened the bottle and took a drink. He waited for her to continue but she didn’t.

Charlie wasn’t going to offer information easily. Finn would have to drag it out of her.

This wasn’t his first interrogation. He rested his weight on his arms on the table, not caring if that meant he towered over her. “Okay, why don’t we start with that: your jobs. I think I’m aware of two of them. Educating tomorrow’s future by day and serving drinks at a strip club by night. Are there any more I should know about?”

He said it in sarcasm, but when she looked away . . . “Oh my God, you have another job?”

“Sort of. I clean the bar during the day.”

“Like, as the janitor?” She nodded as she took another sip. If his hair were long enough, he would’ve pulled it. He took a deep breath and straightened, walking back to the fridge.

Stay calm, Bollinger. Escalating things into a yelling match wasn’t going to help anyone.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked in the most relaxed voice he could find. “I’ve got stuff for a full breakfast, or if you prefer, I can make pasta. Or steak and potatoes.”

“Breakfast food would be fine. I can help.”

He glared at her over his shoulder, pointing at her chair. “So help me God, Charlie, if you get up right now and try to do any work, I’m going to lose my shit. Your only job right now is to answer questions.”

The word job had him cringing. Three? What the hell? He turned back to the fridge and got out bacon and eggs and the items he needed for a small batch of pancakes. Maybe it wasn’t the most nutritious meal, but at least it had calories.

He laid the bacon in the pan, trying to get his thoughts together. He had so many questions, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“Why are you working at The Silver Palace?”

“The money is good, much better than at a regular bar. The cleaning part is more convenient than lucrative.”

He turned the flame on under the pan and began mixing the pancake ingredients on the kitchen island, so he could face her. These were the wrong questions. Obviously, she was there for money. The real question was, why would Milton Devereux’s daughter need money? Why would he let her work somewhere like that?

Those were the right questions. Or at least in the right direction.

“Where are your parents?”

Surprise lit her blue eyes. Bingo. This all had to do with her parents.

“How did you—I mean, what makes you think anything has to do with them? I’m an adult.”

“I may not have always gotten along with your mom and dad, but one thing I know for sure, your father would not allow this,” he flung a hand at her, “if he knew about it.”

She began peeling the packaging off her empty bottle. “Dad is sick. Prion disease. It’s a rare condition that attacks the brain. He’s at a care facility in Denver. Mama moved with him.”

Okay. Now they were getting somewhere. He set out another pan to heat for the pancakes and flipped the bacon. But there were still a lot of things that didn’t make sense.

“But why would that mean you need to work three jobs? I know your father had to have insurance. Or hell, even if not, he had the money to pay for being in this facility.”

She shook her head. “We got hit really hard in the stock market crash a few years ago. It also happened right when oil prices skyrocketed and devastated the factory in Oak Creek. Dad sold the business but didn’t get a fair price. We lost almost everything. There’s just no money.”

He poured the first batch into the pan and tried to work out the timeline in his head. This all must’ve happened after she married Kempsley, but before Finn had gotten out of the Army. She must not have gotten very much out of her divorce settlement.

Given the fact that she had married Kempsley for money, the irony that she was working three jobs now just to survive wasn’t lost on him. Nor was the fact that had he and Charlie still been together, he would’ve given every cent he had to help her dad. To help her.

“Your dad can’t be happy that you’re having to work this hard.”

“He’s not very lucid a lot of the time. He’s lasted a lot longer because of an experimental drug treatment he was a part of. But his condition has led to advanced dementia, so most of the time when I see him he doesn’t even recognize me.”

That sucked. Charlie had always been close with her parents. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” And he was. About it all. He wasn’t so much of a bastard that he would wish this on her.

“It’s not forever. That’s what I tell myself. Despite . . .everything, I know Dad doesn’t have much longer. So, I just keep working. It’s the least I can do after everything they did for me.”

Finn’s own father had died over a decade ago, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his mother. Especially if she was in the end stages of her life. So, he understood what Charlie was saying.

But she had to find a better balance. Mr. Devereux would not want her working herself into this state, even to prolong his life.

Finn made the eggs, took the rest of the food off the burners, and plated their food before carrying it over to the table.

They began to eat. He knew the question he had to ask, but he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t on any day, but he particularly didn’t want to while she was sitting across from him, hair tousled and cheeks still flushed from their lovemaking.

“What about Brandon? I know you guys are divorced, but the Kempsley family has a ton of money. Could he help you out? Even if it was a loan or something?”

It was like watching an iron curtain slam down over her features. “No, the Kempsleys aren’t an option. Period.” She stared down at her plate, shoveling more food into her mouth.

Not an amicable divorce then. He was man enough to admit that the idea didn’t make him sad. At one point he might’ve been tempted to lord her mistake over her, try to get her to admit what she had lost, ask her if giving up their relationship had been worth what she’d gained. But that would just be petty.

Finn wasn’t above being petty when the occasion called for it, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Even if she admitted she’d made the worst mistake of her life by marrying Kempsley, what would it get him? Seeing Charlie this way—almost broken, exhausted, hopeless—didn’t bring him any joy. Even at his most angry he’d never wanted to see her like this.

“What about working full-time in education? I know you’re wonderful with Ethan and Mrs. Johnson said you’re one of the most talented education specialists she’s ever seen.”

Charlie peered up from her plate, a bit of life now shining in her eyes. “I love the work I do. And Ethan, God Finn, he’s such a great kid. I would love to do that full-time.” Watching that light fade from her eyes was almost physically painful. “But I can’t. And it’s not enough anyway.”

“You can’t right now. But like you said, this won’t be forever.”

Her smile was tight. “Right. Not forever.”

Finn wasn’t sure exactly what she was thinking, but probably working three jobs made anything feel like forever.

“You know, Linear Tactical is doing really well. Better than any of us thought it would do only four years in.”

Her face lit up again. “That’s fantastic, Finn. And I’m not surprised. The best of all possible worlds, huh?” She took a small bite of her eggs. “Doing the soldier stuff you love. Working with Zac and your buddies. Making money. I’m so happy for you.”

And she was, he realized. She wasn’t saying it for any other reason than because she was excited for him.

“I wasn’t trying to rub it in your face. I just wanted to let you know that I have some money saved up and—”

“Finn, stop.”

“—I mean, I don’t know how much the medical expenses are every month, but I could help out.”

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m not taking your money, Bollinger. But you have no idea how much it means to me that you would offer. After everything.”

He gave her a half smile. “Hey, getting humiliated in front of the entire town builds a man’s character.”

Finn expected some smart-aleck reply but was gutted when her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears.

Shock ricocheted through him. Charlie Devereux didn’t cry. Ever.

“Hey. Hey, I was just kidding.” He squeezed the hand that had not let go of his.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispered, the tears falling down her cheek. “You can believe whatever bad things you want about me, but please believe that I am so sorry I hurt you. I just . . .I had to choose.”

Had to choose between a soldier’s paycheck with Finn or the luxurious lifestyle Brandon Kempsley could provide.

But the agony in her eyes now, the tears, made that all seem so distant. Finn couldn’t stand it. He went to her side, scooped her up, and sat down in her chair with her in his lap.

“I survived. And you survived. It’s okay.”

She just buried her face in his neck and held on.

He couldn’t help but feel he was missing something again. His nickname was Eagle because he observed and attacked, so why did he feel so blind around this woman?

He held her for a few minutes as she finally relaxed against him. She was tired again, needed rest. Ethan wasn’t coming home until tomorrow, so Finn planned to take her back up to his bed, so she could sleep.

“I need to go to work,” she said against his neck.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Not tonight. I got in touch with Jordan, explained to her that you were mugged. She’s going to tell your boss. Sheriff Nelson was planning to give him a call too, just to let him know nobody was faking.”

Finn had made those calls before understanding exactly what was going on with Charlie. Now that he knew, he was doubly glad he’d contacted her workplace. He still didn’t like her being at The Silver Palace, but he respected her willingness to work hard.

He could almost hear her adding up figures in her head now.

He spoke through his teeth with forced restraint. “You will damn well let me lend you the few hundred dollars you missed out on in tips last night and tonight. Hell, princess, I have that just in mad money in the Bible upstairs.”

She leaned back and smiled at him. “I thought only women had mad money.”

He winked at her. “I like to have it for any emotion I may be feeling. In this case though, I will be angry if you don’t take it. I promise it’s not a hardship. Okay?”

She nodded, and he silently let out a breath of relief. “Okay.”

“And I won’t even give you a hard time about working three jobs.” Although he would be keeping an eye on her. “But your parents wouldn’t like it if they knew the state you were in. Are in. You’re going to have to do better at taking care of yourself. I know you don’t have a lot of time to eat or sleep, but make time, all right?”

She looked like she wanted to say something else, to make some sort of argument, but finally just nodded and melted back against him.

“Take me back to bed, Finn. I just want one more night of pretending like there’s no yesterday and no tomorrow.”

So did he. Leaving the dishes where they were, he walked up the steps with her wrapped in his arms.

Even though he knew it meant sleep would be a long time in coming.