Brooke came awake with a scream. It was dark, and she was disoriented for a second. But a cold nose shoved its way into her hand as Max made his presence known. He started licking her and she sat up, breathing hard and fumbling for her phone.

A bright light shone in her eyes. She covered her face with her arm as another scream formed in her throat.

“Brooke, what’s wrong?”

She recognized that voice. She dropped her arm and he dropped the light. Then the light moved toward her. A moment later and her lamp flicked on. Cade hovered over her. The uniform was gone and in its place was a pair of athletic shorts.

No T-shirt. Oh wow.

“I…” She swallowed. “Bad dream. I’m sorry.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. Max’s tail thumped on the bed. Cade reached over and scratched his fur and Max rolled onto his back. Furry traitor.

“It’s to be expected. How do you feel?”

Brooke stopped letting her mind race over every damn topic and took stock. “My head hurts.”

“Do you want another pain pill?”

“Not really, but I probably should.”

“I’ll get it.”

She sat there while he disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned, he had the pill bottle and some water. He shook out the pill and handed her the water. It was ridiculous, but her eyes actually teared up a little.

Because she lived alone and she did these things for herself, so the simple act of someone else handing her a pill and water made her think of her mom and home. Sometimes it sucked living on the other side of the continent from her parents. If she were home, she could go to her old bedroom—still a bedroom, but not quite as personalized as it had been when she’d lived in it—and cuddle in bed while Mom brought food and pills and comfort.

She set the water on the bedside table and leaned against the pillows.

“You want to talk about it?” Cade asked.

She tried not to focus on anything but his face and eyes, but there was a lot of skin and a lot of muscle on display.

“Can you put on a shirt?”

He stared at her for a second and then snorted. “Got something against man chest, angel?”

“No,” she grumbled. “But I want to touch it the more I look at it, and now is not the time.”

Not when her head hurt and she felt groggy from the meds. It suddenly hit her that she must look like hell in addition to the rest of her issues, so she hastily smoothed her hair as he turned and walked away. He was gone only a few seconds before he returned, T-shirt covering his magnificent abs, athletic shorts still showing too much leg.

And too much male member, because there was no doubt something bulging under the fabric.

“Keep staring at it and you’ll get a reaction,” he said softly, and Brooke snapped her gaze to his as heat flooded her cheeks.

“Sorry.” And then, because she had to do something, she made the mistake of continuing to talk. “I feel like I’m already intimately acquainted with it. I’ve touched myself so often while imagining—”

His gaze burned. “Maybe quit while you’re ahead, angel.”

She gulped. “Yes, I think so.”

“So do you want to talk about your dream or go back to sleep?”

“Not about the dream. Just, maybe, talk.”

“Okay.” He sank onto the edge of the bed, just outside her reach. Max rolled over and Cade scratched his belly.

“I don’t even know what time it is. How long have I been asleep?”

He glanced at his watch. Not a phone but a watch. She remembered that Garrett wore one too. All the spec ops guys did.

“It’s two thirty.”

“Wow.”

“Either you were tired or those meds hit you like a ton of bricks. You usually react that way?”

“Pretty much. It’s why I don’t like to take them.” She twisted the top of the sheet around a finger. “Thank you for staying tonight.”

“No problem.”

She felt like it was, actually. He had a job and he’d come straight to the hospital from that job. She didn’t think he’d gone home while she slept either. So he had his uniform and what he was wearing now—and he probably had to go to work in the morning.

“What time do you have to be to work?”

“I took the day off. I’ll be here with you.”

Her heart thumped. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you want me to call Grace?”

She shook her head.

“Then it has to be me. Who would take Max out while you’re high on pain meds?”

“Bert could do it. Or one of the day guards. Jerry, Chuck—he’s the new guy. You don’t have to change your life around for me.”

“It’s okay. I have plenty of time to take. The military isn’t the civilian world, okay? We don’t get two weeks and that’s it. I think I have about fifty-two days of leave on the books right now, and I earn more every month. A couple of days to help you out isn’t hurting me. So long as you’re okay with me being here, that is.”

She was grateful and anxious all at once. Cade Rodgers in her condo for the next couple of days? Helping her take care of Max, getting food and mail and, yes, keeping her safe from a strange man who had seen her get out of the elevator on the same floor that Scott lived.

Brooke shivered as she thought about the man she’d seen again. His eyes had been so cold. Didn’t mean he’d been the one to kill Scott, of course. Perhaps he’d been visiting someone else on the eighth floor. There were four other condos besides hers and Scott’s, and he could have been visiting any of them.

“I am, Cade. You’re far nicer to me than I deserve,” she added.

“We’re friends, Brooke.”

She couldn’t help but smile even though she was a mess of nerves deep inside. Cade Rodgers was here in her apartment. Cade! Her sex toy. The man who’d given her multiple orgasms through text.

“I guess we are. Friends with benefits,” she added.

“Yeah, not quite the benefits I’d like,” he replied, grinning. “But we’re getting there.”

“It’s strange for me, having you here. I feel like I know you and like we’re strangers too. It’s so odd.”

“But you aren’t scared of me.”

It wasn’t a question. She shook her head.

“That’s good,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel since we’d never worked up to actual phone conversations.”

She dropped her gaze. “I know it’s weird, but texting seemed safer. What if you didn’t like talking to me? What if the fun we were having was ruined by conversation? And then there was the fact I made you smaller and less threatening in my mind.”

She reached for his hand, stroked the back of it. He turned his palm over and she ran the pads of her fingers over it, a little shiver of excitement rolling up her arm and down her spine.

He didn’t move beyond that, however, and she knew he did that for her. So he wouldn’t scare her. A wave of emotion swelled inside her at that small gesture. Part of her wanted to fling herself at him, and part of her held back the way it always did.

“I’m not a threat to you, angel. Not now, not ever. When I gave you my number at Ice’s that day, I’d hoped for the normal progression—a few calls, a date, some sex. But that’s not the way it’s going to work for us—and I’m fine with that.”

She blinked back the hot tears that suddenly threatened. “I’m a mess, Cade. You don’t want to deal with this. Hell, I don’t want to deal with it—but I’m stuck. You aren’t.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers. The shock of his touch—and of his eyes boring into hers—stopped her breath for a long, painful moment.

“You will never forget what happened to you, Brooke. And when you want to tell me everything, I’m ready to listen. Because I’m not stuck with you. I’m here because I’m your friend.”

Her heart tripped and skipped along, tumbling over itself while her belly squeezed tight. “I’ve told you all there is to know.”

His smile was sad and tender at once. “No, I don’t think you have. But it’s okay. There’s time.” He stood and bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Go back to sleep, angel.”

She wanted to protest, but she was suddenly too tired to do so. Her eyelids drooped—and she slept.

---

Cade took Max for an early-morning run, then returned to Brooke’s place and set about fixing breakfast. He turned on the Keurig, gave Max his food, reading the bag first to see how much the dog should be eating, then pulled out a carton of egg whites—of course—and a package of shredded low-fat cheese—another of course. There was ham (lean), which he chopped up, and then he set about fixing an egg-white omelet. He found bread, toasted it, and butter, which he slathered on generously.

He ate the whole thing at the kitchen island, then went to Brooke’s bedroom to check on her. He’d fix her the same thing, but not until she woke on her own. He was just shutting the door again when she rolled over and pushed herself up on an elbow. Her hair was a wild mess as she squinted at him.

“Do I smell coffee?” Her voice was adorably scratchy and high-pitched.

“Yep. You want some?”

“Please.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“Cream.”

He went back to the kitchen and put a cup under the Keurig, popped in a pod, and found the cream. After stirring in a healthy amount, he returned to her room to find her sitting up in bed, the television on with the sound muted. She’d smoothed her hair so it didn’t stick up quite so much, and she smiled at him as he approached.

Max bounded in and jumped on the bed.

“Baby,” Brooke exclaimed, ruffling his fur and hugging him tight when he put his face up to hers. “How’s my doggie this morning?”

“He’s good. Crapped a log. Pissed a river. Ate all his food.”

Brooke kept ruffling him. “Did you do all those things? Were you good for Cade?”

Max licked her chin, and she lifted her face so he didn’t get her mouth.

She laughed. “That’s my boy!”

Cade thought he’d like to lick her mouth. Not helpful. He set the coffee on the bedside table. When she was done with Max, the dog flopped at her side, tongue lolling out, and she picked up the steaming cup to take a sip.

“Mmm,” she said, eyes closing, and Cade told himself not to get hard. It was fucking coffee, for God’s sake.

“You want an omelet?”

She blinked and stared up at him. “An omelet? Are you for real?”

He shrugged. “Of course. It’s not hard. I live alone. It’s learn how to cook a few things or eat takeout all the time.”

“Maybe in a few minutes,” she said.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I think I’ll have some bruising, but my head is mostly better.” She lifted her fingers to touch the side of her head. “A little tender where I hit, but no more throbbing.”

“That’s good.”

She bit her lip and sipped the coffee again, holding the mug with both hands. “If I’m honest, I can manage Max and take care of myself now. So you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want me to go?”

She blinked at him. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then I’ll stay for now. Until you’re certain you feel up to taking Max out.”

She nodded. And then her eyes widened and she reached for the remote, unmuting the television.

“The body of Scott Lloyd, an employee of Black Eagle Firearms, was found yesterday at his Alexandria address. He died from a gunshot wound to the chest. The police are looking for this man. He’s wanted for questioning.”

A police sketch of a man flashed on the screen while the anchor read off his description. Brooke’s face grew pale.

“Oh my God, he’ll know it was me. If that man is out there watching, he’ll know it was me. I thought he might have been visiting someone else on the floor, but he wasn’t, was he?”

Cade had gotten a copy of the police report from Hacker, who’d done some serious sleight-of-computer code, or whatever it was he did, to access it. Male, five-six, medium build, dark hair, dark eyes, day’s growth of beard, Spanish accent, wearing a suit with no tie, carrying a pistol in a shoulder holster, crooked front teeth…

“No, I don’t think he was. They’ve talked to all the residents on this floor by now and ascertained he wasn’t here to see any of them. He could have gotten off on the wrong floor, so there’s still a chance he wasn’t the guy who shot Scott.”

Though he didn’t believe that for a second. Brooke had had the misfortune to run into the killer on her way back to her apartment. There was now, quite possibly, a target painted on her back. He was still waiting for more info from Hacker and his team, but he didn’t think it was going to be good.

“I saw the killer, didn’t I?” Brooke asked, her face utterly white.

“You probably did.” Cade wasn’t going to lie to her. “But it’s not one hundred percent certain. That man could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He could have gotten off on the wrong floor.”

Cade doubted it, but anything was possible.

“Am I in danger? Because I saw him?”

“Not with me here.”

“But you won’t always be here,” she said softly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes, angel. And don’t forget the security cameras. They’ll provide footage of him, even if it’s grainy. It’s not only you who saw that man.”

She nodded and then stared at the TV screen as the logo of Scott’s employer flashed on the screen. “Black Eagle Firearms? I honestly had no idea Scott worked for an arms manufacturer.”

Now that was a surprise. Cade knew she’d dated her neighbor a couple of times. What had the man told her? “Where did you think he worked?”

“He said he worked for the Government Accountability Office. I thought he was going over federal spending for Congress.”

“He did,” Cade said. “He left that position for one with Black Eagle.”

Brooke blinked at him. “How do you know that?”

“Because I have sources, Brooke. Scott Lloyd left the GAO over a year ago. He took the chief financial officer position at Black Eagle.”

Hacker was digging into it right now, finding out what Lloyd had been responsible for, if he’d possibly gotten tangled up in any dirty dealings.

She looked thoughtful. “One of our neighbors had a cocktail party. It’s where we first met. I remember I told him I hated the weapons industry and anyone who worked for it… It’s no wonder he never told me the truth.” She shook her head. “There’d been a mass shooting and I was having a bad moment, I admit it. But some of the guys there were going on about the second amendment and their right to own whatever they wanted and I blew. I may have said something about gun manufacturers being complicit in mass shootings. I was probably a little drunk—I also never got invited back to any cocktail parties there.”

Yeah, he didn’t think she would have been the life of the party among a group of people advocating gun rights. As a professional, he could see both sides of the issue. On the one hand, he thought weaponry was best left in the hands of people like him. On the other hand, people had the constitutional right to buy guns, and most people who did weren’t crazed killers.

She gazed up at him. “I know you’re carrying, Cade. I know it’s what you do and who you are. But you’ve never hidden that from me.”

“I am carrying, angel. It’s like putting on pants. I just do it.”

“You and Garrett,” she said. Then she waved her hand. “All of you, really. Every one of those badasses that hang out at Garrett’s place and watch football. There were probably more weapons in that room a couple of weeks ago than there are in a gun shop.”

“Probably.”

Brooke sighed. “I hate guns. I hate that people feel the need to carry them. I wish they would all go away.”

“They won’t. There are too many jobs that depend on manufacturing them, too many weapons already in the pipeline, and too many in the hands of law-abiding citizens and criminals alike. You can’t get rid of them. They’re here to stay.”

“We’ll have to disagree on that,” she said primly.

“Have you ever shot a gun?”

“No.”

“You should try it. It’s not so scary when you get the right training. And it’d be another way to protect yourself. Max and a sweet little Sig Sauer P938—that’s a compact nine mil. You’d be set with that.”

She frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not comfortable with the idea.”

“If you ever want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

“I guess you’re pretty good with a weapon, huh?”

He didn’t let his mind wander to the innuendo side of that statement, though he really wanted to. “I’m an expert marksman, angel. I have to be. I can take out a target with my eyes closed if I have to.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

“It is possible. We drill it until it’s second nature. There’s no room for almost good enough or maybe next time in battle.”

She shuddered, and he thought maybe this topic had gone as far as it needed to. “You want that omelet or what?”

“Yes, please.”

He turned to go.

“Cade?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I said I hate guns. I don’t hate you. I just… Sometimes I think about what it is you do, and it scares me.”

He gave her a smile. And then he told her the truth, because it was the only thing he could do. “It scares me sometimes too.”