The dreams were part of his life now. Sometimes they were just about the endless heat and the seas of sand that got into everything. The sun blazed bright and merciless in the dreams. But in that bright sunlight, hazards lay hidden, waiting for vehicles or men on watch or passersby to appear at the wrong time. In the dreams, he never encountered these dangers himself. His job was to send other people into these wrong places at the wrong times.

They would run afoul of snipers because of him. Explosives would rip them limb from limb because of him. They would go to places he believed to be safe, and they would disappear there because he was wrong. All these things happened in the dreams. If he was having a bad night, they'd happen a few times.

Tonight was not one of the bad nights. He awoke suddenly, sucking in a breath, from a dream of sand that defied his efforts to remove it. He pushed and pushed at it with a broad broom, only to have it slide in behind him. Before long, it buried the broom and sucked it away. Then it buried him up to the chest. It filled his mouth and crushed him like an empty can.

Now he was here. Birds sang beyond the heavy drapes. An air-conditioned breeze traversed the bed, where he was surrounded by pillows and soft sheets. The scent of berries and pine hung in the air.

Gigi. He was at Gigi's.

She stirred beside him, still asleep. Her long body made a sensuous curve beneath the sheets, which rose and fell with her deep, sighing breaths. He was glad he hadn't awakened her, and not just because he got to watch her sleep. She'd slept through his nightmare, and so he didn't have to go into them with her. They'd started to get better lately, anyway. Maybe being near the water was agreeing with him.

Maybe it was the job. After hours of bending his back with kegs and ice and glasses and the occasional pain in the ass who needed an express route to the door, he had fewer dreams about sand, guilt, and good people dying. The boat, which would be just as hard, without the structure of regular hours, would be even better for him.

He squinted at Gigi's clock, clear across the room from the bed, until the numbers came into focus. Outside, morning rush hour would be in full swing. If he left now, he could get back home in time to mow Miss Ruby Jean's lawn before it got too hot. Then maybe he could get some more sleep before he picked Gigi up for work.

He eased away from her, moving toward the edge of the bed. Quietly, he gathered his clothes and dressed before arranging the tangled sheets on his side of the bed. He caught a glimpse of her, still sleeping, and stopped to watch her. Her features, relaxed in slumber, entranced him. She looked so peaceful, this woman who drove him so hard in bed and out.

The thought made him smile. He did that. He gave her peace and pleasure and rest.

I did that.

He carried his boots out to the living room and set them by the front door before searching for a scrap of paper. He finally found one in the kitchen—one of those coupons the grocery store gave you at checkout—and dashed off a note with the felt tip pen from her dry erase board. He returned to the bedroom to leave the note under her alarm clock, where he knew she would see it.

Then he slipped out, still smiling.

* * *

The clock's shrieking jolted Gigi awake. Her first disorganized thoughts were of how far away the clock was and how important it was to get to it quickly before it woke Noah up, too.

She sat up in an empty bed.

Wait.

She stared at the place where he had been and found the sheets in only mild disarray. Of course, he'd tried to tuck her back in. In fact, he was probably still here somewhere.

The alarm's volume slowly rose. She looked around, sleep-addled, half-expecting him to pop out of a hiding place or come down the hall to silence the clock.

Nothing.

Damn. Really?

She slid clumsily out of bed and struggled into her robe before wandering over to turn off the clock. How had this happened? How could she have been so wrong about him, after everything they'd talked about?

She wanted to do something stupid and immature, like throw that fucking clock at the wall to watch it shatter. But control was more important. She wouldn't let him—

A strip of paper was peeking out from under the clock. Thick black letters filled it, along with a phone number. She pulled the paper slip out and read the message.

Had to leave. Chores for landlady. Call me for ride to work.

Gigi's anger melted away. Of course he hadn't just run out on her. Her skin warmed with embarrassment… and something else.

He'd been thoughtful. He didn't have to tell her all this.

Really? A second ago, you were ready to kill him.

She had been. Damn. Two nights together and she was trying to put the man on lockdown. She'd only brought him in here to try to get him and her reaction to him under control, not to escalate things into bed. Definitely not to start acting like she was entitled to anything of his.

She read the note again. Leave it to Noah to do more than he had to. Her earlier response shamed her all the more deeply.

What had made her do that? Was she so accustomed to lesser men that her reflex was to judge him by that standard? Or was she so attached to Noah that the slightest misstep, even the imaginary ones, would set her off?

This was why he was dangerous. This was why she had to start backing away from him now, when her very being longed to be closer to him.

She carried the note back to bed and sat down. Getting attached to Noah was not a good idea. She'd known that when she hired him, she'd known it when she rode him that night on the patio, and she thought she knew it now. She'd gone into this with her eyes open, and he'd been upfront about his intentions, too.

He was going to Florida. Soon. And as much as she hated to see him go, she was going to have to live with it.

She looked down at the note. Call me for ride to work.

Too bad she couldn't take him up on his offer. She needed to pick up some supplies, and she'd need Heather's car for that, probably before he was done dealing with his landlady. She also needed to start separating herself from him before it became too difficult to do. Still, it was sweet of him to offer.

She shook her head and chuckled. Noah's sweet.

She grabbed her phone from the charger to call Heather. Maybe she could catch her before she left home.

The sound of the Volvo's horn sucked Gigi back to her childhood. Carpooling made her feel like a little girl again. She jogged down the driveway to Heather's station wagon and saw that Bruce was in the passenger seat. She slid into the back seat through the rear door.

She buckled up as they pulled off. "Thanks for the lift."

"No problem," said Heather. "I just have to drop this guy off first."

Gigi yawned. "How you doing, Bruce?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, an amused smile on his face. "Not as sleepy as you, but okay."

She tried to silence him with her expression, but it was too late. He and Heather were a team, and she readily picked up where he left off.

"Is she sleepy?" Heather asked. She met Gigi's eyes in the rearview. "Oh, yes, I think she is, isn't she?"

"Oh, my God," muttered Gigi.

"Well, that's good," said Bruce. He looked out at the street ahead of them. "Been too long since someone came along and made you sleepy. You deserve it."

He and Heather giggled from the front seat. As annoyed as she was with the two of them, Gigi couldn't help but chuckle along with them.

Heather dropped her husband off at the high school with a kiss to fortify him against the summer students. Gigi let herself out and walked around the car to take the seat he'd vacated. The Volvo pulled back into traffic.

Heather looked over at the clock in the dashboard. "We have a little time. You want to make the supply run now?"

Gigi looked at her watch as if it would conflict with the dashboard clock. "We could. Might be easier to get the car towed when we get back."

"Yeah." The brakes squeaked softly as they came to a stop for a red light. The engine warbled into the silence between them before Heather finally spoke again. "So, you were just not going to tell me you were sleeping with Noah. You weren't, were you?"

Gigi looked up to find her friend grinning at her.

"You say that like it's some longstanding thing that we're doing."

"It's been going on since the Fourth, hasn't it?"

"No. It hasn't." Gigi gestured at the green light.

Heather led the Volvo onto the on ramp and sped onto the interstate. "I don't know. I feel like you two have been a little weird with each other since the Fourth."

Gigi laughed. "I'm sorry, why do you need to know again?"

"Because I'm your friend and your day manager and I need to know what's going on with my staff."

"Well, Noah is my staff." She cut off Heather's gasp of playful protest. "He's only working happy hour; he isn't day shift."

"I still need to know. I need to know what's affecting management. You heard Bruce. You're exhausted."

"Bruce said I was sleepy."

Heather held up her hand. "My point is, you weren't going to tell me that you and Noah were sleeping together."

Gigi took a second with the question.

"See, this is a yes or no question," Heather said.

"I didn't think that we would actually be sleeping together," Gigi said.

"What does that mean? Is that yes?"

"Yes." Gigi laughed. This felt more like high school than when she'd gotten into the car. "Okay? We've… been together twice."

"Just twice?"

"Yes. It's not a thing. It's just something that happened."

"And then happened again." Heather took the off ramp and all but ran the last red light on the way to the restaurant supply house.

"And then happened again," Gigi repeated.

Heather nodded. "You know, he could have given you a ride."

"But then I would miss this lovely conversation with you."

Heather found a space in the empty parking lot a little farther away from the door than Gigi would have preferred. "I'm just saying that he could have driven you back to the car this morning. Or back from the mechanic. Or both."

Gigi shook her head. "He has things to do this morning aside from driving me around." She got out of the car and waited for Heather to follow. "And like I said, we are not a thing. That's something people in a relationship do. Noah and I are not in a relationship."

"Not like you and I," said Heather. She tried to keep a straight face for as long as she could.

Gigi extended her middle finger, hoping to end this conversation. "I need to be here, anyway. I still have to buy party stuff."

"I see. You don't want to talk about this anymore." Heather shook her head. "Used to be we would talk about stuff like this."

"Live in the present, my friend."

"Okay. I just have one more question, then."

The doors slid open, and a blast of air conditioned goodness enveloped Gigi. She turned to face her friend.

"He's going to stay now, right?"

Gigi waved a dismissive hand at Heather and went to grab a flatbed cart.