“Yeah,” he answered.

“Right then, I’m gonna go put my pajamas on and you are not going to take that shirt off without me helping so don’t even think about it. I’ll do your boots and socks too. But you can do your jeans. And I hope you have ice cream, because I was too stuffed for sopapillas, but now I need something sweet, and I want ice cream.”

After delivering that, she walked to the island, took the shot he’d poured her, downed it, then turned and strutted away, aiming words for him toward the room she was heading to.

“Be out in a minute.” She stopped in the doorway and looked back to him. “And if you clean up that Fireball, I’m sleeping in here.”

“I made the mess, I’ll—”

“Shut up, Danny,” she ordered quietly.

He shut up.

“Do you have ice cream?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Good, honey,” she muttered, then disappeared into Mo’s room.

Mag stared at the empty doorway a beat.

Then his head dropped, and he stared at his boots.

He pulled his shit together, put her shot glass in the sink, the Fireball in the freezer and walked to his room.

He had the bedside lights lit and the TV on low and was sitting on the side of his bed, toeing off his boots when she walked in wearing another pair of shorts and a cami, these in a swirly pink and green pattern.

She stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips, her eyes surveying his thermal.

She then decreed, “We’re either gonna have to stretch the neck of that beyond recognition or cut it off.”

He picked door number one.

“No scissors, honey, this is my second-favorite Henley. Don’t make me shoulder that blow. I already lost my favorite one today to a bullet.”

One side of her lips twitched, and she clicked her teeth.

Clicked her frickin’ teeth.

Fucking hell.

Was he going to laugh?

She approached.

And no.

He was not going to laugh.

Because somehow, even after them going at each other in his kitchen three mornings in a row, she was entirely unaware of the effect she had on his cock.

Especially when he could see her acres of legs.

He knew this when he couldn’t see her legs, but he had a close-up of her tits since they were in his face seeing as she was up close and personal, clicking off his sling.

“Baby?” he called, his voice tight for two reasons, amusement and his effort to fight his dick getting hard.

“Yeah?” she answered.

“You don’t want me to tear my stitches, it’d be good you got your tits out of my face, ’cause if you don’t, things are about to get the good kind of physical.”

She hopped back.

He grinned up at her, and since she’d unclipped it, he slid the sling off his arm.

“You’re aware I wanna fuck you,” he noted, feeling his own lips hitch as he did.

“Uh…yeah.”

“Well, that’s because you’re cute. And it’s because you’re a dork. It’s also because your heart’s way too big for your own good. But just sayin’, it also has a lot to do with the fact you got mile-long legs, a great ass, perky tits, a lot of hair and you’re pretty as fuck and all of that is standing in my bedroom right now.”

“Right,” she mumbled, her cheeks coloring.

He stood, which brought him up close and personal again, but in a way he could control his reaction, and he cupped her jaw, tilting her head up so he had her eyes.

“I want you at my side tonight too,” he told her. “We’ll watch TV. We’ll sleep. That’s it. I got some pain, and after ice cream, I’m gonna take a pill to control it that’ll probably put me out. So, we’re not goin’ there tonight. We’re not goin’ there until I can make it be what I want it to be the first time between us. But you’re in my bed, and to be clear, in the future, feel free to turn me on whenever the spirit moves you, but just for the time being…cut a guy some slack.”

“Okay, Danny,” she whispered.

“In other words, efficiency in taking off my shirt and then you can get the ice cream and I’ll change into my shorts.”

She nodded.

He bent and brushed his lips to hers before he sat back down.

She scraped him with her nails on his stomach and his lat, which felt too good, but he let it slide as he watched her bite her lip with concentration while she stretched the fuck out of the collar of his thermal getting it over his head without making him raise his other arm.

Then it was gone.

She stared at the big bandage on his shoulder.

“It’s gonna heal fine,” he promised.

Her gaze came to his and she repeated, “Okay, Danny,” before it was Evie who cupped his jaw, bent and touched her mouth to his and then straightened.

“I’m gonna clean up too,” she told him. “So, take your time and call when you’re done.”

“Right.”

She shot him a soft smile and he watched her legs and ass as she walked out of his room.

He got his jeans off, his shorts on, retrieved the pill bottle from his jeans, put it on his nightstand and was sliding his arm back into the sling when he called, “Babe! Do me a favor and grab the pillows off Mo’s bed! We might need ’em!”

“Gotcha!” she called back.

He finished with his sling, piled his pillows on one side and stretched himself out on the bed, propped up.

He didn’t want to admit what a relief it was to take a load off.

But it helped significantly with the pain.

Evie came in with the pillows, left, and then the lights went out beyond his door and she came back with the carton of Tillamook Birthday Cake ice cream.

“I approve of your ice cream selection,” she announced, sliding into bed beside him. “Birthday Cake is the best, with Malted Moo second runner-up.”

“Monster Cookie,” he parried, taking the spoon she offered.

“Oo, nice one,” she muttered, digging in.

She’d put her hair up in a knot at the top, but tendrils were falling down her cheeks.

Yeah.

Just all kinds of pretty.

“Babe,” he called.

She looked at him and answered, “Yeah?” before she shoved a huge-ass spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

And only Evan could make shoving a huge-ass spoonful of ice cream in her mouth something that gave him an almost overwhelming urge to bang her breathless.

He wanted to lock onto that thought.

But he saw the purple, the swelling, the scabs.

Okay.

Focus.

He had Evie and her bare legs in her pajamas lying in his bed with him, holding a carton of ice cream between them.

And repeat.

He-had-Evie-and-her-bare-legs-in-her-pajamas-lying-in-his-bed-with-him-holding-a-carton-of-ice-cream.

He pulled in a deep breath.

And then he whispered, “It gets worse than that.”

“All right.”

All right?

“Honey, you gotta—”

She shook he head. “Stop it, Danny, we’ll handle it when it happens. We’ve handled enough for today, doncha think?”

Yeah.

He thought.

More than enough.

“And we’re here,” she continued. “We might be a little worse for the wear but we’re here. Let’s just eat ice cream, watch TV, I’ll get you some water to take your pill and then tomorrow is another day.” She smiled. “And another day off because I can’t strip with a shiner.”