Cash could act like a tough guy all he wanted, but there was no way he wasn’t in complete agony. When he’d first come out of his room, I was stopped by the sight of his dark, sculpted body glistening from his shower, and it took everything in me to maintain eye contact. The way he stood with his loose, black athletic shorts hanging low on his hips, he practically begged me to stare, and his bare chest called for my attention. But I held out as long as I could.

Finally, I’d given in and allowed myself a moment to memorize every line of muscle that acted like a roadmap to the treasure I convinced myself he concealed beneath his shorts, needing it to hold me over during the long nights I lay awake, alone in my room. But before I could salivate at the sight of his happy trail, or the deep V that disappeared beneath the elastic waistband, I discovered the fresh bruise on his side, decorating his ribs in a tapestry of deep purples and angry reds.

He tried to fight me off, but after a second, he gave in and allowed me to baby him. It made me question if anyone had ever done this for him before. I didn’t have a lot of information about his ex-wife—other than she was a disgusting woman who had cheated on such an amazing man—but I found myself curious if he’d ever needed her to take care of him. Everyone got sick, even macho men. And I couldn’t help but wonder if he was the type to work through the fever, suffering alone, or the kind who craved the soft, healing touch of a woman. From the way he relaxed into the couch and closed his eyes while I carefully held the ice pack to his tender side, I was willing to bet he was the latter…he just didn’t know it.

At least this gave me plenty of opportunity to stare at his naked chest, the abs I could literally count from across the room, and the dark hair that trailed from below his bellybutton to the waistband of his shorts. His arms were massive, but not riddled with bulging veins like most bodybuilders, which made me believe he didn’t bulk up for show. This was the body of a man who took great care of himself and worked out to stay in shape, not to win a trophy.

“Less than one hour into our agreement, and you’re already breaking the rules.” His deep, rumbly voice grated through the air, heavy with sleep and humor.

I lifted my gaze to his face, only able to see his profile with the way he rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow propped up on the armrest. His eyes were closed, but a smile curled his lips—utter contentment that filled me with comfortable warmth.

“And what rule is that?” I prodded from where I sat curled up on the cushion next to him, holding the ice-filled rag against his side.

“Watching me sleep.”

“Technically, you aren’t sleeping. So I haven’t broken any rules.”

He turned his head just enough to peer at me from the corner of his eyes through the tiny slits in his lids. “Then I guess I need to amend the agreement in the morning to include time of rest.”

“Well, smarty pants, what is it you suggest I look at while you’re resting?”

“The walls are a great place to start.” He let his head fall back, using the cushion behind him as a pillow, and moved his right hand from the small space between us to my thigh. He didn’t flex his fingers or make any uncomfortable advances, just expanded the gap between his arm and his side to give me more room to hold the ice against him.

“How’d this happen, anyway? You said it was hazard of the job, but I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around any situation a computer technician would be in that would leave him looking like he’d gotten beaten by a lead pipe in a barroom brawl.”

“You have no idea what I do, do you?” His lips still held the same teasing grin as before, his eyes remained partially open and set on my face, but his brow gave him away. Just like I knew it would, the wide, smooth space tightened just a fraction, enough to hint at an involuntary reaction to a hidden emotion. I had no idea what it meant, but something about it sent a rolling wave of sorrow through my gut.

“Not really…but you’ve explained it so many times, I figured it wasn’t safe to ask again.”

His tongue ran along his lower lip, wetting it and calling my attention. Thankfully, he closed his eyes and faced the ceiling, preventing him from catching me staring at his mouth. “I engineer infrastructures for communications using technology.”

“Yeah…you’ve said that before. But I have no idea what any of that means. In my head, you wear khakis and a red polo shirt while sitting in a cubicle behind a computer, talking on the phone to people who need help rebooting their modems. Oh…and in my head, you also wear black-framed glasses. Don’t ask where those came from or why you don’t wear them on the weekends.”

He started to laugh but quickly stopped when his face scrunched in silent pain, his left hand crossing his chest to cover the offending area. Yet his right hand remained on my thigh, only this time, he gripped it while forcing himself to breathe. I scooted a little bit closer—any closer and I’d be in his lap—and adjusted the ice in an effort to help him through it.

Once he got himself under control, he resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened. He relaxed his expression, yet never opened his eyes. “Well, a network engineer can do many things, but my job deals with towers. That’s why I travel all the time. I could be in Texas this week, Maine next, Colorado the week after. Wherever they need me, they send me.”

“Oh, I thought you did stuff with computers.”

“I basically do. We use computers to tie everything together and make it work as a unit. But at the core of what we do is a network. Printers, scanners, phones, radio towers, cell towers, internet…they’re all tied to a network.”

I’d always assumed Cash was smart, but his level of brilliance wasn’t apparent until this second. Even though he’d finally explained his job in terms I could understand, I still couldn’t imagine any of it in my head.

“So…how’d this happen? What were you doing when you got hurt?”

“Fell.” And that was it; no more explanation.

It left me picturing him falling off a tower, hitting the poles on the way down, yet as far as I could tell, he’d only been injured in one place. Although, I didn’t ask any other questions. It was obvious he was tired, and when I glanced at the clock over the TV, I noticed it was two in the morning. Aria would be awake in four to five hours, and if I had any desire to enjoy his company while he was home, I’d need to go to sleep before too long.

“Where do you keep your pain relievers? I’ll grab you some before you go to bed.”

He hooked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his bedroom, his eyelids remaining closed. “I have some in my nightstand. I just need water. That’s actually why I came out here to begin with—before you decided to play nursemaid.” His tone was light, full of easy mirth.

“I’ll get that for you.”

He squeezed my leg once more before pulling away and dropping his hand on the cushion between us. I shifted on the couch, removed the ice from his side, and took a peek at the bruise. It was a deeper red than before, but that was most likely due to the ice. Realizing he was probably minutes away from sleep, I rushed to the kitchen, took the cold, wet cloth to the sink, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Thanks,” he muttered when he slid the drink from my outstretched hand.

“Do you need help getting into bed?” Apparently, my maternal instinct knew no bounds, regardless of how mortifying it could be at times.

His dark eyes flashed wide for a split second before a smirk tilted his lips. “No, I got it.”

I stood next to the coffee table, waiting for him to pull himself off the couch in case he needed assistance. Of course, he refused, leaving me to watch helplessly while he clenched his jaw, held his breath, and forced himself to a standing position, biting back the rumbles of agony threating to tear through his chest.

While he steadied himself on his feet, taking deep, controlling breaths, I touched his arm to remind him that I was still there if he needed me. Once he settled down, I offered him a smile and turned to leave. I only made it halfway across the room before he called out to me, making me whirl around to face him.

“Thank you…” He waved a hand toward the couch. “For tonight, this…everything.”

I had no words, so I simply forced a broad grin and nodded. It must’ve been enough for him, because he dipped his chin and angled around to his room in the opposite direction. The second his back came into view, my breathing escalated into desperate pants, saliva pooled beneath my tongue, threatening to spill out in endless rivers of drool, and my heartbeat decided to fall to the space between my legs, throbbing with each intensified pulse.

Stretched out along his entire back, a male angel had been inked from shoulder to shoulder, just below his neck down to the two glorious dimples at the base of his spine, and spanning from the left side to the right, where the bruise was more prominent. The wings appeared to be dirty, as if the tips were covered in soot, and a pair of hands held a sword and a book.

I wanted to ask about it, touch it, trace the details with my finger while memorizing every line, every shaded area until I could vividly see it behind closed lids as I fell asleep at night. But instead, I watched Cash barricade himself in his room, leaving me with yet another fantasy to obsess over while alone in my bed…in his house.

* * *

My eyes slowly opened to the morning sun brightening my room through the cream-colored drapes over the window. At first, I stretched and thought to myself how well rested I felt. Then I jolted upright, realizing how well rested I really was. Having a toddler that woke with the sun made that impossible—add in how late I’d stayed up last night, and something had to be wrong.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, double-checked to make sure I hadn’t been seeing things, and threw the covers off while practically falling out of bed. It was after eight thirty. The only times Aria had ever slept that late…that was a lie; she’d never slept in that late.

My heart climbed its way into my throat, closing off most of my airway. I flung my door open and ran down the hall. The first thing I noticed was her bedroom door left ajar. The only thing that had comforted me having her in her own room was the fact that she couldn’t reach the knob, so I didn’t have to worry about her wandering around the house while I slept. Every morning this week, she’d alerted me to her being awake by crying behind her door. How I’d slept through that, I didn’t have a clue.

But she wasn’t in her room, which served to heighten my panic while my bare feet slapped the hardwood floors on my way into the main part of the house. As soon as I cleared the hallway and made it into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. The sight in front of me both settled my nerves and made me swoon all at once. Aria sat on the couch, spine stick-straight, hands in her lap with her feet dangling off the cushion like a well-poised princess. Next to her, Cash reclined into the corner with his feet propped on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles, a coffee mug in one hand and the other tucked protectively between his side and the armrest, reminding me again of the injury he’d sustained at work. Both had their eyes glued to the TV screen mounted to the wall out of my view—I had no idea what they watched, but both appeared to be incredibly engrossed in it.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” My question came out far more accusatory than I had planned, my fear and anxiety not yet fully dissipated. I walked through the kitchen—at a much slower pace—and approached them in the living room.

Aria’s attention never left the show playing in front of her, but Cash turned his gaze to me. A slight grin toyed at one corner of his mouth while his dark eyes flashed wider, just the tiniest amount, before returning to the TV.

“You were sleeping,” he mumbled, his lips close to the rim of the mug in his hand.

His short answer and lack of attention worried me, but I pushed past it and moved to stand closer to the couch next to Aria. “What time did she get up?”

He shrugged with his good shoulder, hiding a flicker of a wince with a slow blink. “Around six thirty.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my tongue and eyes suddenly dry and unmoving. However, it was a wasted show of surprise, because neither audience member offered me so much as a glance. “That was two hours ago!” Shock lilted my voice into a near screech.

Finally, Cash—keeping his head straight forward—turned his sights on me, but only for a fraction of a second. His nonchalance had really started to grate on my last nerve. “Like I said, Jade…you were sleeping.”

I balled my hands into fists, trying to contain my displeasure. He only meant to help, and I appreciated that, but I couldn’t ignore the frustration over the fact that her whole schedule was now turned upside down. “If she eats breakfast now, she won’t be hungry for lunch, which means her nap will be late.” I closed my eyes and counted back from ten, hoping I could rewind time to take back my ungrateful words.

“She already ate. I gave her a waffle.” His words snapped me out of my mental countdown.

“You made her a waffle?”

“Oh, shit. Was I supposed to heat it up first?” He finally whipped his entire head around to face me, brows quirked high, eyes round yet bright. “I just grabbed one out of the freezer and let her gnaw on it with her tiny little teeth. I wasn’t supposed to do that?”

We entered into a stare-off, me against him. I remained silent and frozen, unable to figure out if it was a joke, but he didn’t cave, which only made me more nervous of his sincerity. But right before I opened my mouth to question him—hoping my words didn’t come off sounding condescending—his lips split into a grin, and he returned his attention to the show.

“I followed the directions on the box.” His voice was almost monotone. Only the slightest hint of humor still lingered, even though his expression went blank. Then he peered at Aria out of the corner of his eyes and said, “Although, I think she needs a new diaper. I left that for you.”

I didn’t blame him for not wanting to change a child’s diaper, but I was also grateful he hadn’t. Stevie had done it a few times for me while I was running an errand and she watched her, but that was different. The thought of a male—any male—handling that made my skin crawl. But I didn’t have a clue how to express that without making it sound like I thought of him as a pedophile. So, rather than address it, I simply thanked him and began to pick Aria up.

The second my arm hooked beneath her bottom, the cold wetness caught my attention. I immediately set her on her feet and scrubbed my forearm against my shirt, desperate to rid myself of the feeling.

Cash chuckled beneath his breath, so softly I wouldn’t have known had I not glanced at him. It was obvious the action caused him pain, but he couldn’t stop the hilarity from rolling through him. “I told you she needed to be changed. Did you not believe me?”

“I guess I didn’t imagine it was that bad considering you let her sit on the couch.”

He flicked his chin to the now vacant cushion beside him, and once more, his lack of eye contact gnawed at my consciousness. “I put a towel down. She was fine.”

“And when would you have decided to wake me up to take care of it?”

“When she soaked through the towel. I figured I still had an hour or so before that happened.” His left shoulder lifted a few degrees in the most pathetic one-sided shrug I’d ever seen. “It can be washed. No big deal.”

I waited a few seconds to see if he’d look my way, and when he didn’t, I was left with no other choice but to leave the room. I grabbed the towel off the couch and took Aria’s hand in mine to lead her back to her room for a fresh diaper.

After cleaning her up and giving her a new outfit to change into, I took a moment to compose myself. I still couldn’t figure out why Cash refused to make eye contact. Surely, cartoons were not that riveting. I ran my fingers through my hair—well, I tried to. That’s when I realized I probably looked like Medusa and had scared him so badly he couldn’t look at me. Curly hair was nothing to play with first thing in the morning, and considering how fast I’d jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, I hadn’t thought twice about the rat’s nest on my head.

I took the elastic band off my wrist and tied my unruly locks back, piling it into the best topknot I could without heavy amounts of detangler and a brush. Leaving Aria with the task of dressing herself—she’d recently started to pitch a fit anytime I tried to help—I made my way back to the living room, taking a seat on the other sofa, but close enough to Cash.

He was still in the same position as when I’d left the room, feet on the edge of the table, ankles crossed, mug in hand…and eyes on the television. When I glanced to the side to see what he’d found so fascinating, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I didn’t take you for the type to watch Barbie’s Dreamhouse.”

He took a sip of his coffee and said, “It was on, and Aria liked it.”

My jaw clenched, my teeth so close to grinding. It was odd because I wasn’t angry with him or his interest in the cartoon. Nor was I still jumpy over the situation I’d woken up to. My irritation was more spurred on by self-esteem than anything, which only further confused me. It wasn’t like I wanted him to stare at me or tell me I was pretty, but when someone took such effort to avoid looking at you, it stung.

“Did she wake you up this morning?” I tried again, hoping to engage him in conversation.

“Nah, I was up. Heard her crying and figured if you didn’t, it meant you still needed sleep.”

Well, at least I got more than two words out of him that time. Next step was to get him to take his focus off Barbie and actually participate in a discussion. I didn’t care what it was about, just as long as he didn’t act like I wasn’t in the same room—literally a foot away from him with only an end table and two armrests between us.

Just then, Aria skipped into the room, her shirt on backward, and climbed up next to Cash. Other than a hug in her room after her diaper change, she’d barely acknowledged my existence—seemed to be a theme with these two. I took a moment and observed them. Aria sat ramrod straight, not at all relaxing, which led me to believe she hadn’t allowed herself to feel fully comfortable around him yet. And I understood that. But considering she’d chosen to sit by him rather than me told me she wasn’t scared.

Cash leaned closer to her just enough to whisper, “She has a lot of clothes.” Aria’s face lit up with a giggle, but other than that, she didn’t say anything. As soon as Cash shifted to sit up straight again, his eyes closed and his lips tightened, and I knew immediately his side had bothered him.

“Are you in pain?” I asked, ready to do whatever he needed to make it better.

Blowing out the full breath he’d been holding, he blinked his eyes open…and set his gaze back on the cartoon. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Another short answer.

I took note of his thin, zip-up hoodie, and asked, “Are you cold?” The air was on, but not low enough to be considered uncomfortable. Even though his sleeves were pushed up on his forearms, he had to have been hot in it—unless he had a fever.

“No, but I figured this was better than going shirtless since I didn’t care too much about fighting a T-shirt so early in the morning.” A longer explanation, but still monotone. I had to pick my battles, but it was like no matter what he gave me, nothing was good enough. It was either one- or two-word answers, even and unemotional tone, or a shrug. All while avoiding me at all costs.

“Are you going to see a doctor?” I tried again.

“Already did.”

I waited for more, but got nothing. “What’d they say?”

And there went the slight, one-shoulder lift again. “That I’ll live.”

I stared at the wall across from me, the one with the window leading out to where we parked our cars, and fought back the sting of rejection. This man wasn’t my boyfriend, not even a prospective lover—just a friend, and if I were being honest, our friendship didn’t really hold too much depth. So it was silly of me to feel dismissed by him.

“Do I have something on my face?” I wiped my palm over my lips.

He glanced briefly at me before turning back. “No.”

“Well, there’s gotta be some reason you won’t look at me. I know my hair can be scary in the mornings, but I’ve already tied it up.”

“Yeah, I noticed you pulled it back. Didn’t need to, though. I kind of liked the wild mane you had going on,” he said with his mug pulled close to his lips, a grin tugging on the corners.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” It was more of a demand than a question, but I’d long since given up on reining in my insecurities. He’d been married before—this couldn’t have been a surprise to him.

He peered at me out of the corner of his eyes, his head unmoving, brows arched in what I could only depict as silent humor. “I can see your nips through your shirt.”

I glanced down and realized I’d never pulled my T-shirt back on after waking up and was only wearing the thin cami I slept in. Immediately, I slapped my hands over my chest and jumped up from the couch. Before I had the door closed to my bedroom, I heard Aria ask, “What’er nips?” To which Cash answered with, “Nipples,” as if a two-year-old would understand.

Even after changing into real clothes, taming my hair, and brushing my teeth, I was still too mortified to head back out to the main part of the house, but since my daughter was out there, I couldn’t very well hide forever and expect him to tend to her. So, I tucked my tail between my legs and met them back on the couch, where they sat in the same positions as when I ran off. However, this time, Cash rewarded me with not only his eyes, but a smile, as well. I ignored the mockery in his expression and accepted it as a friendly greeting.

“I’m so sorry, Cash. I didn’t think at all about covering up before coming out here.”

“It’s fine.” He turned to glance at the little girl next to him, who now sat slightly hunched in a more relaxed way. “Although, I think you have some explaining to do. I might have confused her a little.”

Hesitantly, I asked, “What’d you tell her?”

“Well…” His cheeks darkened and his brows furrowed. “She thinks nips are”—he cupped a hand around one side of his mouth to keep Aria from hearing—“boobies,” he whispered. “And I wasn’t sure how to handle that, so I told her they weren’t exactly the same thing, and that boys had them, too. Now, I’m pretty sure she believes boys have…” He repeated the motion with his hand to the side of his mouth, and whispered, “Boobies.”

I shouldn’t have, but I laughed, uncontrollably. Rolling fits of giggles consumed me until I was left clutching my stomach, unable to breathe. “Oh my God, Cash…have you ever been around a kid before?”

“Not really.” Rather than joining in on my fit of hilarity, he simply smiled, masking the pain he was in. “I figured I’d learn. It hasn’t even been one day…give a man a break. By next weekend, I’ll be a pro at this shit.”

“Oh, yeah? You might try to watch the curse words.”

He blinked exaggeratedly at me. “I can’t cuss?”

“It’s your house, you can say whatever you want.”

His expression softened and all humor vanished between us. “No, really…the way you raise her beats out the fact this is my house. I hadn’t thought about the words I use, but I’ll be more conscious of them.”

“Should I add that to the agreement?”

“Only if you don’t punish me if I happen to slip and break the rule from time to time until I get used to censoring my language.”

“Deal.” I got up and headed to the fridge to add the amendment. I grabbed the pen from the drawer, but before I could write anything down, the laughter came back at the sight of the unexpected addition.

Just below the rule about not watching him sleep, he’d added: Or during any time of rest. At the bottom of the page, I wrote as neatly as I could: No cursing in front of baby ears.