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He sniffed disdainfully, giving me a dour look. “Great. And it was
mostly
useful.”

“Yes, sorry, mostly useful. Wow. I just don’t know how to thank you.”

“Less talk’d be a good start. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” I stopped short of saluting, but only just.

Down the hallway drifted various noises as the wake slowly started winding down. There was the clink of plates and cutlery being gathered. I could hear Mal saying goodbye to someone followed by the hair-raising bang of the front door. It must have been caught by the wind. Some old Bob Dylan tune played low beneath it all.

“You’re welcome by the way,” I said, softening my voice, cutting him a break. His day, after all, had been far worse than mine. Plus, it obviously wasn’t easy for him to say thank you. Not that he’d exactly managed to. “I’m glad I was here to help.”

He looked up at me, eyes unguarded. At least, they weren’t cold and hard for a change.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

For a moment, I actually forgot myself. We just stared at each other in near silence, like we were waiting for something or trying to figure something out. I don’t know. It was weird.

Then he turned away.

“Lena, hello?” He pointed to his cheek. “I’m still bleeding here.”

“Right,” I ripped into a fresh pad of gauze, then got busy wrestling with the lid on the disinfectant. Stupid childproof locks. “Let’s see if we can’t fix you.” When I sneaked a look he was staring off into infinity again, I’d apparently been tuned out.

“This’ll sting,” I said, liberally dousing the gauze. “Who knows how dirty her nails were. We need to clean it really well.”

He wrinkled his nose at the smell. “Don’t pretend you’re not going to enjoy it.”

“You wound me. As if I’d ever enjoy causing you mild pain or discomfort.” I couldn’t quite keep the smile off my face. Of course, I didn’t quite bother. Verbally sparring with Jimmy was fast becoming more fun than I’d had with most other men naked. Which was sad.

Real sad.

Carefully, I started cleaning him up, wiping the blood from his cheek. I was trying not to overthink things but my mind refused to slow down. We’d now touched more in one day than I’d ever imagined possible. Judging by my ongoing heart condition, this was not good. I scrunched up my face, concentrating. This new heightened awareness of him was driving me insane. We hadn’t connected, not really. It was just because of today being so overemotional and everything. There’d been more drama, highs and lows, than I’d experienced in ages and putting it all into perspective would take some time. Tomorrow we’d head back to Portland and things would revert to normal with Jimmy largely ignoring my existence. There was no need to freak out.

At any rate, I couldn’t quit on the guy right now. Talk about kicking someone when they were down.

He winced. “Ouch.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

If only my stupid hands would stop trembling, giving me away. Happily, Jimmy didn’t seem to notice. The more I tended to his face, the madder I got. Honestly, what an absolute shit of a day. Mal lost a wonderful mother while Jimmy and David suffered via their very alive and deeply crappy one. Where the hell was the justice in that?

Several packets of gauze and a sea of disinfectant later, we were done. If the bitch had scarred him I’d do worse than push her on her ass next time. Just to be safe, I smeared enough antibiotic cream on the ragged wounds to turn the side of his face snowman white.

“I wish I’d hit her harder,” I said. “I’m sorry, I know she’s your mother, but …”

“Don’t pull that shit again,” he said. “She’s not rational, Lena. You could have gotten hurt.”

“Ha. Then you’d have to listen to me bitch.”

“Like hell.”

“You wouldn’t play Nurse Jimmy for me? How sad.” I laughed softly. If I could just keep things light and easy everything would be okay. Or at least, as light and easy as things ever got between us. The air of misery around him, however, made it impossible to keep a distance.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

He turned away, hands tight around the first aid kit making it creak again. “Finished?”

Carefully, I kept rubbing the cream in. The main problem with me is my mouth. In that I have one and use it far more than I probably should. It’s especially irritating when its hell-bent on bringing forth information that only serves to make me look dumb. “I dated this guy once who sold my car to score weed.”

Jimmy leaned back, away from my fingers. “Lotta weed.”

“Yeah.” I braced my palms on my hips, keeping my greasy fingers away from my body. “Sometimes you have to cut people loose for your own good.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“Out there, you couldn’t bring yourself to hit her,” I said. “But she needed to leave. Seemed the least I could do was give her a shove in the right direction. And I don’t regret it.”

“Next time, stay out of it.”

“Is there going to be a next time?”

“I hope not.” The pain in his eyes was heart breaking. Oh my god, he was killing me. It had to stop.

“You’re all good,” I pronounced, turning to wash my hands at the basin. More than enough with the touching. It was feeding this ridiculous notion that Jimmy and I were close, like we were friends or something. We weren’t, I needed to shake it off. History dictated once foolish enough to grow feelings for a guy, my heart stayed stuck till the bitter end. My collection of idiot exes was epic. When it came to mixing penises with emotions, I couldn’t be trusted. He was my just my boss, no more, no less.

Jimmy stood and stretched behind me. “Bastard of a day.”

“Yeah.”

“Be glad when it’s over and we can head home.”

He studied himself in the mirror over my shoulder. “Lena, I can’t go out there like this! Christ.”

“There isn’t a big enough bandage in the box to cover your cheek. I did the best I could with what I had.”

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look fine.” I scoffed.

He mumbled expletives.

“Would you calm down?”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” he grumped.

He leaned in and I leaned forward, only there was no room, nowhere for me to go. Any contact between his front and my back must be avoided at all costs. It’s basically impossible, however, to suck in your ass successfully. Trust me, I’ve tried. So I settled for grinding my hips into the edge of the bathroom cabinet, trying to stay out of his way. It was highly unlikely I managed to reduce myself any but a girl could always dream.

Behind me, he started prodding at his cheek, pulling weird faces.

“Stop it,” I said. “You’ll make it start bleeding again.”

Icy blue eyes narrowed on me in the mirror.

“Why don’t I go ask Mr. Ericson if he has a shirt you can borrow?”

He jerked his chin in agreement. Nine times out of ten this was Jimmy’s preferred method of communication. So much more effective than wasting time on actual words.

“Um, Jimmy? If you could stop looking at yourself in the mirror for just one minute …”

“What?”

“It’s a small space. Can you give me some room to move, please?”

His gaze raked over my back, down to the curve of my abundant ass and what had to be the hairsbreadth of room between us. Without comment, he stepped left, so I could go right.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Ask if he’s got a plain white shirt, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“And hurry.”

No please. No thank you. No nothing.

Typical.

I found Mr. Ericson standing at the kitchen sink, staring out the window. Music and chatter flowed in from the living room, but he remained apart, alone. No one could help him through this. There couldn’t be many things as heartbreaking as losing your life partner, your other half.

What if this had been my mom or dad?

Shit. My throat tightened. I pushed the horrible thought away. They were both fine, I’d only talked to them the other day. Eventually, though, it had to happen, they were getting older. My aimless wandering had to come to an end. I needed to go back and see them sooner rather than later because if something ever happened I’d never forgive myself.

It didn’t seem right to interrupt Mr. Ericson. Jimmy would just have to suck it up.

I stepped back, my elbow knocking a fruit bowl on the counter. The glass chimed noisily, alerting everyone within a twelve-mile radius to my presence. Mr. Ericson turned, staring in surprise. “Lena. It
is
Lena isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Ericson. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“Please, call me Neil. Is Jimmy all right?” The lines on his face multiplied.

“He’s fine.” I smiled. “But would it be okay if he borrowed a shirt? His got blood on it.”

“Of course. Follow me.” He led me up the carpeted staircase to the second floor and into a room covered in floral wallpaper. The scent of lilies lingered here too. On the dresser sat a wedding picture and beside it was a more informal shot of them from the 70s, I guess.

“Your wife rocked a pair of knee-high white boots,” I said, crouching down to get a better look. Mal had obviously inherited his smile from her, the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Any money says Mrs. Ericson had gotten up to all sorts of things back in the day, really lived life to the fullest.

I hoped she had.

“She rocked everything, Lena.” The depth of sadness in Mr. Ericson’s voice was immeasurable. So too was the affection. “She was the most beautiful woman I ever met.”

Tears stung my eyes.

“Which one do you think will be acceptable?” He stood in front of the open wardrobe. Half of the space still contained Lori’s clothes. Neat rows of skirts and slacks and blouses. A couple of dresses. How did you move on when half of your life was gone?

I grabbed the first shirt I saw, needing to be gone. “This’ll be great. Thanks.”

“Are you sure?” His brows rose.

“Yep. Jimmy’ll love it. Thank you!”

I got out of their before I burst into tears and embarrassed us both. The man had enough to deal with without me turning on the waterworks. I barreled back down the stairs, breathing hard.

“Here.” I held out the shirt to Jimmy.

He stopped, cocked his head. “You’re fired.”

“What?”

“Lena, look at it.”

I did so. “Huh. Well, it’s very bright and cheerful. No one will be looking at your face, that’s for certain.”

“Yeah. That’s why you’re fired.”

“I think the clashing pink and red Christmas trees make quite a statement. And the frolicking deer are kind of cool … wait, is that one just jumping or has it actually mounted the little one beneath it?”

Angry fingers flew over the buttons of his ruined white shirt. He tore the last few, sending them pinging off into the four corners of the bathroom.

“Oh, goodness. There’s even a threesome happening on the back. That shirt really has it all. But I think if anyone could carry it off, it’s you.” I should stop. I really should stop. But I just couldn’t. “
The
Jimmy Ferris. I mean, whoa. You’re basically the style king.”

“I don’t know why the fuck I put up with you.”

I shrugged. “No, me neither. But you keep paying me so I keep hanging around.”

“Awesome. Go away.”

“You got it, boss.”

I hovered in the doorway, trying not to laugh. “You’re really going to put it on?”

He threw his stained shirt on the ground, jaw working. “I have to, don’t I? Can’t insult Neil.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. You’d be a shitload more believable if you weren’t laughing.”

True. Giggles poured out of me. It had to be all the stress from today. Though the look on Jimmy’s poor face was hilarious. And the way he handled the shirt like it was something similar to dog shit, his mouth drawn wide with distaste just made it all the better.

“Am I really fired?” I asked, wiping my watery eyes. It would certainly solve a lot of my problems. Or just the main one—him. If I didn’t have to see him every day, my unfortunate new feelings would dwindle and disappear, right? Right.

Well, probably.

“What’s going on?” David ambled on down the hallway in his cool rocker way. I moved over to give him some room. “How’s your face and what the fuck are you wearing?”

“Ask, Lena,” Jimmy bit out.

“I can’t. Your shirt’s so ugly it made her cry.”

I laughed even harder. Something tugged at the hem of my pants, next came growling. “Aw, Killer. What do you think of Uncle Jimmy’s shirt, hmm?” I scooped up the gorgeous puppy before he could gnaw a hole in my hem. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

“Hey.” Mal crowded in behind David and I, peering over our shoulders. “What’s this, a bathroom meeting? Do I need to find, Ben?”

Jimmy swore some more and put on his suit coat with great haste.

“Oh, you’re wearing the fucking deer shirt,” said Mal, scratching Killer’s head and generally stirring him up. “That’s great, man. I got it for dad as a joke a few years back. But I think it’s fantastic that you’re secure enough with yourself and your masculinity to go there.”

“I think it suits him.” I grinned. “It reflects his inner beauty as few other shirts could.”

“It does, it does.” Mal smiled and this time, it was a little closer to his usual. Certainly the best attempt there’d been today. “I gotta take this guy back to his mama. He’s due for crate time.”

I handed the pup over. “Bye, Killer.”

With the pup suspended high in one hand, Mal headed back down the hallway.

“You made him smile,” said David.

Jimmy stopped fiddling with the buttons on his coat and his face cleared. “Least it was useful for something.”

“You did good at the funeral.” David crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Real good. It was a beautiful speech.”

Jimmy rubbed at the back of his neck. “Think we can head back to the hotel yet? I wanna hit the gym.”

Complete avoidance of his brother’s words, which seemed to stem more from embarrassment, like praise had no place in Jimmy’s world. Odd for a rock star. One would think he’d bask in any attention given how fussy he was with his appearance. The man was a walking contradiction.