“Yes,” he mumbled. “I . . . You just startled me.”

Decker didn’t look like he believed Owen, but he let it pass. “Like I said, you can wait for us in the living room. We’ll be out soon.”

“I need to talk to Rachel alone,” her ex-husband protested.

She wanted nothing less than to spend quality one-on-one time with Owen.

“Not going to happen. If you have something to say, you can say it with me in the room,” Decker answered for her. Normally, she’d hate that, but if it kept her ex’s visit brief, then she’d agree to anything.

Owen adjusted his glasses, bristling. “It’s quite private.”

“Too bad. If you want to talk to her, that’s the deal. I don’t have to negotiate.”

Owen’s hands curled into fists and he pinned them to his hips. “This is ludicrous. What exactly do you think I’m going to do to her?”

“I don’t know, but this craptastic attitude of yours isn’t giving me a warm fuzzy. If you want to talk to Rachel, we’ll be out shortly. If you want to leave, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. That’s the deal.”

Without waiting for a reply, Decker turned and carried her through the foyer and down the hall. Shock still pinged through her. What the hell was he up to? Why did he give a rip about Owen wanting to talk to her? Even with the uncertainty, she couldn’t hold in a smile.

He wandered back to the bedroom and set her on her feet. Rachel’s head raced as she shut the door and whirled on him. “I don’t know whether to thank you from the bottom of my heart or ask you if you’re psycho. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to set Owen on his butt?”

“I’m sure a while. It’s obviously long overdue, since the prick seems to think that you should ask, ‘How high?’ whenever he tells you to jump.” He cocked his head. “You did that for years, didn’t you?”

She frowned. “Probably longer than I should have.”

“Then he deserved what he got. You’re no longer his, and you don’t have to do a damn thing he says.”

“But I’m not yours, either.” And that was the confusing part. She didn’t really expect him to care about her problems with Owen, but he’d made sure that her demanding ex didn’t walk all over her. “You didn’t have to stick your neck out there.”

“Yeah, I did. You’re too good for him. I wasn’t about to let him treat you that way.”

Those words made her liquefy into a puddle of goo. Who was she kidding? It made her want to fling aside her robe and plaster her naked body to his. “Thanks. That means a lot. Asserting myself with him is something I’ve struggled with for years. I know I should. I just don’t like confrontation.”

And every time she’d tried, Owen had done his best to make her feel petty and regret it.

“Then I’ll take care of it for you.”

His words took her aback. “I-I don’t expect you to stay and listen to whatever Owen is droning on about. It will be long and dull and probably sanctimonious. If you want to take a rain check on the pancakes, I’ll let you off easy.”

Decker clenched his jaw. “I’m not in a hurry to leave, Rachel. And I’m not thrilled with the idea of leaving you alone with a man who doesn’t know how to draw the line between you two, much less be polite. I’ll blend into the background if you want, but I’d like to stay. One of the truths about being a protector for a living is that your instincts are well honed. I don’t like him being here. Why isn’t he in Florida?”

What did Decker think Owen would do to her? He was annoying, but harmless.

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s put some clothes on and find out.” He gave her a hot, lingering stare. “Or take them off and deal with him a lot later.”

Rachel sent him a playful swat. He was good for her ego, but she shouldn’t keep Owen waiting. Not only was it rude, but he’d make her pay for it eventually, when Decker had gone for good.

Within minutes, Rachel found undergarments, jeans, and a red, scoop-neck T-shirt in her closet at the back of her bathroom and dressed. She ran a brush through her hair and applied a little lip gloss. She wasn’t getting prettier than this without makeup, and that would take too long.

Emerging back into her bedroom, she saw Decker fully dressed in last night’s clothes. His five o’clock shadow had grown thicker, darker, making him look more disreputable. Dangerous. She shivered. That shouldn’t turn her on. She’d never been attracted to the bad boy.

Rachel couldn’t deny that she’d made an exception for him.

“Let’s go.” She smiled at him and found herself blushing as she remembered everything they’d done last night.

As if he could read her mind, Decker grinned back. “And get this over with so we can come back to bed.”

Hand in hand, they made their way down the hall, Decker leading her through the narrow corridor. She had no idea why he hadn’t bailed when she’d given him the opportunity, much less why he’d stayed and seemed determined to stake his claim in front of Owen. It was kind of unnerving . . . but it was mostly nice. He’d defended her and was now standing by her side during what she feared wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. Not at all what she’d imagined when she’d invited Decker over last night, but she had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised. This was her first one-night stand, and she didn’t know the etiquette, but something told her this might last longer than a few hot, sweaty hours.

Back in the living room, Decker took a seat on the sofa and immediately began staring down Owen. She escaped to the kitchen and made coffee for all and tidied up, prolonging the moment she had to face her ex. A few minutes later, she brought out the steaming mugs, along with sugar and cream, and some homemade cookies she’d baked the other night out of boredom. They were still soft and fresh, and she didn’t think she could face Owen without something in her stomach. Even if his attitude might make her want to throw it all back up.

After she set the tray of everything on the table, Decker wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back onto the sofa with him. Then he leaned in and made coffee for her.

“Sugar and cream?” he asked.

“Please.” She wondered how he’d guessed. “Do you still like yours with cream Owen?”

He watched them stiffly. “Yes.”

When Rachel scooted forward to help Decker, he shook his head. “I’ve got it.”

Minutes later, he handed her a mug of morning goodness and an oatmeal raisin cookie. A moment later, Decker slid Owen’s across the coffee table to him. She couldn’t see his face, but his body language beside her was tense with a not-quite-friendly warning. Then he poured his own brew and drank it black, snatching up one of the cookies and groaning as he took a bite.

Decker was noisy and intrusive, and she had a feeling he intended Owen to be very aware of his presence. He was almost overly protective, and she probably ought to be annoyed, but she smiled a bit.

“So what brings you to Lafayette?” she asked her ex politely. “I assume you came here from Florida to see me for a specific reason.”

Owen sipped at his coffee, obviously savoring it. “You still make some of the best coffee. I need to remember to put some cinnamon in mine.” He set the cup on the saucer, then adjusted both to the little side table beside his chair. “Since you’re . . . occupied, I’ll make this brief.”

“Smart man,” Decker mumbled beside her.

Rachel elbowed him. “I’m listening. Go ahead.”

“As you might have heard, I’m dating someone now. Her name is Carly. She’s an aide at the university. Very bright woman.”

“I did hear. That’s wonderful. I hope you’re happy.”

Owen hesitated. “I’ve come here for her.”

Rachel cocked her head and frowned. Owen thought visiting his ex-wife would somehow make his current girlfriend happy? “I don’t understand.”

He sighed, rubbing his hands together and humming. Owen did that when he was uncomfortable. “Carly’s brother lives here in Lafayette. She had plans to come see him, and I didn’t want to spend these few days without her.”

What? Owen had never wanted to leave work. Missing her would have been the last reason he’d have torn himself away from everything he considered vital.

“We’ve been dating about eight months, you see. We started slowly at first. But we—” Owen slanted an annoyed stare at Decker. “Is it necessary to have this conversation with him in the room?”

“We’ve covered this. I’m not leaving.” Decker leaned into the sofa and threw an arm around her, sending him a tight smile. Technically, he didn’t bare teeth, but he might as well have. “So if you want to talk to her, I’m staying.”

Rachel tossed Decker a questioning stare. Wasn’t the morning after when the hot guy usually walked out and never returned the lonely girl’s calls? Instead, he looked not just protective, but possessive—a bit like he wanted to stake a claim so her ex would understand.

Owen looked ready to launch into one of his logical tirades where she felt reduced to an inch tall, even though he never raised his voice. He just talked in hundred dollar words and used analogies only a physicist could understand to make her feel dumb.

“I’m not asking my guest to leave for you, Owen. You and I aren’t together anymore, and I don’t owe you anything. If you want to talk, I’m listening.”

“As you wish.” He didn’t sound pleased as he glared at Decker. “I’d appreciate if you’d butt out.”

Decker held up his hands. “Hey, if this is about your love life, as long as it’s got nothing to do with Rachel, you and I have no problems.”

“I’ve no idea how you can like this muscle-bound Neanderthal, but . . . Back to Carly. I see a future with her. I would like that very much. But . . . we’ve run into a snag. You know me, Rachel. I’m uncomfortable with feelings.”

The understatement of the millennium. “Go on.”

“She’s convinced that I need more closure with you before I’ll be ready to move on. She is adamant that until I understand my part in what went wrong between us, I can’t really embrace another relationship.”

Rachel sucked in a breath. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her past in front of her current squeeze, even though they had almost no likelihood of sharing a future. She’d love it if there were possibilities for her and Decker; last night had been incredible—everything she’d fantasized about and more. He was still something like a dream this morning. But real life wasn’t a fairy tale, and she wasn’t expecting happily ever after.

“Owen, I think we’ve said everything important between us.”

“No.” He swallowed. “Tell me . . . Was I truly insensitive to your feelings?”

What a catch-22. If she said no, Owen would know she was lying. If she said yes, it would spark an unpleasant discussion. Good gravy, sometimes she hated her pathological need to do the right thing.

“Yes. We discussed this at the end, if you’ll remember.”

“I didn’t understand. Explain it again.”

Rachel heaved a sigh. “You were always very absorbed with your work, Owen. Before I even left the room, you were already pondering atomic particles or quantum entanglement or whatever the project of the moment was. When I entered a room, most of the time, I wasn’t even sure you knew I was there.”

Owen inhaled stiffly. “Of course I knew. I’m sorry if you thought otherwise. Not everyone understands my work. But Carly does. She finds it as engrossing as I do.”

Then she ought to be a regular barrel of fun. “Great. Maybe you two have more in common than we did and—”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Decker interrupted. “If Carly wants you to understand how you fucked up the first time, let me clue you in. You were self-absorbed, dumbass. Dude, it’s not always about you.” Decker scowled across the room at Owen. “You didn’t care if you gave Rachel pleasure or made her feel loved. You were more interested in your job than your wife, and that’s never going to make any woman with a drop of passion in her blood or an ounce of love in her heart happy.”

Owen sputtered angrily, then gaped at her with his face full of betrayal. “You’ve spoken to him about us?”

“You’ve spoken to Carly about our marriage,” she pointed out.

Adjusting his shirt, Owen stiffened righteously. “Yes, but we’ve been dating for some time now. We’re contemplating a future together. If I’m not mistaken, you can measure the time you’ve known this obnoxious lothario in hours. Rachel, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but he’s using you for sex. Then he’ll leave you. I thought you respected yourself more than to act like a . . . cheap floozy for someone like him.”