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it closer to my mouth. “Eat, sweetheart.”

Flutters in my stomach, need sliding up my arm making my breasts go all tingly, my nipples harden against my bra, and I opened my lips, wanting to say something, to tell him not to call me sweetheart. But his hand was still moving mine, and the next thing I knew, the toast was in my mouth and I was taking a bite.

“Mmm,” I moaned.

God, it had been so long since I’d had this simple snack, and I’d forgotten how incredible it was.

“Good?” he asked.

I nodded, plowed my way through that slice, still sitting on the edge of the bed, Talbot still on his knees in front of me.

He picked up the mug of tea, passed it over. “Also, not poisoned,” he said before I could even come up with a protest to not accept it. Not that I could, the floral and spice scent was like nirvana, tempting my fingers to wrap around the warm ceramic. “Got it?” he asked, before taking his hand away.

“Yes,” I breathed, lifting it to my lips and drinking deeply.

After I’d sipped for a bit, he took it back, swapped it with the plate for the second piece of toast. Which I devoured, too.

“My mom used to make this for me,” I whispered.

Then immediately wished I could take back the words. I hadn’t thought about my mom in a long time. Not since—

“Mine, too,” he said softly. “When she was sober, that is.” Said so offhandedly that I immediately understood this was part of the whole shitty childhood that the whole world seemed to know—all except for me. Talbot’s shoulders lifted and fell in a small shrug. “I don’t know why, but it always tastes better when someone else makes it for you.”

That was true.

“Do your parents still live in Darlington?” he asked, before I could formulate anything other than a nod.

I shook my head. “They died quite a few years ago now.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand rested lightly on my knee, careful to not touch the abrasions, I realized, but not so high as to make me uncomfortable. The man had skills, that was for damned sure.

“Like I said”—I reached for the bottle of pills—“it’s been years now.”

“Doesn’t mean that stuff just goes away.”

“Trust me,” I said. “Sometimes it’s better that we pretend it just does.”

He went still. Very, very still. Then he reached for the mug, handing it to me when I took a pill out of the bottle and stuck it in my mouth.

I drank, swallowed it down. “Just saying, I’ll kill you if these are illicit drugs.”

“Noted,” he said, lips twitching as he set it on the nightstand again and stood up, moving to another door and disappearing through it, only to emerge a few moments later with a T-shirt and sweats in his hands. Then he knelt in front of me again, his hands on my knees once more, only this time his words made my lungs seize, my pulse flutter.

“Do you need help changing?”

Chapter Seven

Talbot

If she’d had her gun, I might have been her next target.

But luckily for me, she didn’t.

So I just stayed where I was, hands just above the cuts on her knees and staring into her pretty hazel eyes.

I’d gone straight past any hesitation about her being Maggie’s friend and dove headfirst into the deep end. This woman had saved my life. This woman had bled for me. This woman with the shadows in her eyes and the chip on her shoulder . . . she was mine.

And I was going to take care of her.

Even if she fought me every step of the way.

Like right now, the protest bubbling up in her throat.

“I won’t look,” I promised, even though I sort of hated myself for it. “But you need to get out of that dress. It’s dirty.”

Sparking, furious hazel eyes.

It was funny. I hardly knew this woman, and yet I did know her. I knew that the look she was giving me meant she had a rebuke, an argument, on the tip of her tongue, and she was ready to unleash it on me. I also knew this woman wasn’t unreasonable. She’d deferred to logic more than once already.

So, I knew she’d eventually come around.

“I’m sure you want something comfortable to sleep in,” I added, keeping my tone even and gentle. “And,” I added, “I did mean it when I said I wouldn’t look.”

A snort. “Like you didn’t look earlier?”

“I didn’t promise not to look earlier.” I held her stare. “This time, I am.”

Three, two, one. A sigh.

And I knew I had her.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But I swear to God, if I catch one flicker of those gorgeous golden eyes on me, I’ll put my hand-to-hand combat skills to use.”

My thumb traced light circles on the skin just beneath the hem of her dress. “You think my eyes are gorgeous?”

Another sigh. “That’s all you absorbed from my statement? That you have pretty eyes?” Hers came to mine. “Yes, Tal. I think your eyes are absolutely beautiful, and I’m sure you’ve been told that plenty of times before.”

I had.

But not by this woman.

Also, not in that begrudging way, as though she felt duty-bound to compliment me—which didn’t feel as good, but also . . . I’d take any flattery this woman decided to toss in my direction.

“I—” She paused, waited until I was looking at her again. “I also meant what I said about my hand-to-hand combat skills. I will put them to good use, if you so much as put an eyelash out of line.”

Considering she appeared ready to pass out, I doubted that. But, I also figured that Tammy wasn’t a woman who anyone smart discounted, so instead of commenting on her pale skin and shaking hands, I just nodded. “I made a promise, and I don’t ever break promises.”

Her lips parted, a flurry of emotions trailing across her face, too fast for me to discern each individual one.

Then I picked up the T-shirt and said,