“You cannot drive.” He held out his enormous hand. “Keys.”

“I’m not going to drive. I can walk from here. My car will be okay.”

“But you might not be. I will go with you.” He held up a credit card to Bridget.

She gave him a nod and came to get it.

“Everything,” he said, pointing to his and Pandora’s empty glasses.

“Got it.” She glanced at Pandora. “You okay? You want me to call somebody to take you home?”

“No.” The last thing Pandora wanted was one of her sisters coming to get her and figuring out she’d gotten so plastered because of Cole that she’d needed someone to walk her home. She sat up as straight as she could. “I’m good. A little wasted, but good.”

Van put his hand on the back of her chair and said to Bridget, “I will get her home, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Ivan.” Bridget took his card. “Be right back.”

He leaned toward Pandora. “You must drink a lot of water.”

“I will.” She crossed her heart. Or her entire body. It was hard to tell. “Promise.”

He signed the check, took his card back and helped her to her feet, then made sure she had her purse. They were about halfway to her house when the last shot kicked in. A sudden wave of wooziness came over her, and her strappy gold sandals turned on her. She tilted toward him, grabbing his arm.

He caught her before she fell. “This is no good.”

“I think my shoes are—whoa!” Next thing she knew, she was completely off the ground and in Van’s very strong arms. “You’re carrying me.”

“Da. Your walking now is not so good.”

She poked at his chest. “You’re very muscurly. Muscularly. Muscle-y.” She laughed and poked his chest again.

He snorted. “Kotyonoko, you are drunk and it is my fault. I am sorry.”

“No.” She waved her hand through the air. Being carried was really a nice way to travel. “I had a good time and you’re a good listener. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

She smacked his chest. “And you paid. You shouldn’t have done that. I have money. How much do I owe you?”

“Drink your water and we are good. It’s what friends do.” He stopped at a crossroads. “Remind me. Which way to your house?”

She pointed toward the street and told him the house number. They started off again. “How’s your house?”

“It’s very good.”

“It’s very big.” She yawned. Sleep was tugging at her hard. She put her head on his shoulder.

“Pandora. We are here.”

“Huh?” She lifted her head. She’d definitely drifted off.

Van was standing on the walk that led to her front steps. “I do not want to put you down. There is someone on your porch.”

She blinked and looked toward the door.

Cole was sitting on the bench by the front door. He stood. He was dressed for a run. Basketball shorts. T-shirt. No glasses.

“Put me down, Van. I can walk.”

He eased her to her feet as Cole came down the steps. His dark eyes seemed angry. Or maybe hurt. “I thought we could talk, but I see now there’s nothing to talk about.”

A surge of annoyance sobered her enough to stay upright without wobbling. Too much. “No, there isn’t. Unless you’ve changed your mind about leaving.”

He snorted and looked at Van. “Doesn’t look like there’s still a reason for me to stay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you work fast.”

Van stiffened. “We are just friends.”

“Yeah,” Pandora added. “Good friends.” Cole was taller, but Van was wider. And Van could breathe fire. Was that a wisp of steam curling out of the side of his mouth? She put her hand on Van’s arm to keep Cole from getting scorched. “Thanks for getting me home. Call me for lunch or something.”

Van’s gaze shifted from her to Cole then back to her. “I should wait until you are inside.”

Cole frowned. “She’s not in any danger from me.”

“I’m a little tipsy, Cole, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She leaned forward and almost fell over.

His frown softened. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. I need to go to bed.”

Van held on to her. “She will be hungover tomorrow.”

“No, no.” She shook her head, then stopped when that made her surroundings spin. “I’m going to drink lots of water, I promise.”

Cole sighed. “She drank because of me.”

Van nodded. “Yes.”

She pushed at Van’s rock-solid arm. “Shh. Don’t tell him that.”

“Damn it.” Cole started to push at his glasses, realizing a second too late he wasn’t wearing them, and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry, Pandora. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you knew—”

“Stop.” Her stomach started doing questionable things. “I just want to go inside and go to bed.”

Van helped her forward. “Keys?”

“Purse.” She handed the bag over to Van. “Side pocket.” Then she looked at Cole. Pretty, pretty, oblivious Cole. “This isn’t the time.”

He nodded. “I see that. I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”