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I examine Cash—freshly showered, wearing the same jeans and shirt he had on when he left—and I don’t see anything unusual. But he could have been burned, cut himself, fallen—
“Did you get hurt?” My words rush out as panic tightens my chest.
Surprise flickers across his face. “What? No. Why would you ask that?”
“Because it looks like something’s wrong.” Or am I imagining things?
“Ari. Hun.” His hand comes around my upper arm, his thumb lightly rubbing. “I’m not hurt. But why are you up? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Yes. I do. But—” I eyeball him again, noting the tiny lines etched between his eyes. “I wanted to wait up for you. I made you something to eat in case you’re hungry.”
“You made me food?” Cash’s eyes light up, chasing away some of the shadows. “What did you make?”
I take Cash’s hand and tug him over to the oven, flicking on the interior light to show him. “Pepperoni pizza casserole. I know how much you like pizza…”
“Ah, Ari. Thank you.” He pauses. “But if you want to go to bed now, I know it’s late…”
“Do you wantme to go to bed?” There’s somethingwrong, I can tell.
After a heavy sigh, he says, “No. But I’m probably not the most fun to be around right now.”
His shoulders are drooping even more now. And I’m notleaving him. “Come.” I lead him over to the massive marble island. “Sit. I’m going to get you some cheesy pepperoni goodness. And I’m staying here while you eat it.”
A minute later, I place a steaming plate of cheese and noodles and pepperoni in front of Cash, and he leans over and takes a deep sniff of it. “It smells amazing, Ari. Thank you.”
I grab a beer from the fridge and plop it down next to his plate, then sit on the stool beside him. “It’s nothing fancy.”
“It’sincredible,” Cash says after inhaling half of it. I’ve just been sitting quietly, watching him enjoy the food, and wondering if he’s going to tell me what’s bothering him.
Once the casserole is gone, he lays his silverware down softly and stares at the empty plate. A minute goes by, the only sound the faint clink of ice filling the dispenser in the freezer.
“One of our calls tonight was for a guy who had a heart attack. When we got the address, we knew who it had to be.”
I reach over and take Cash’s hand, resting it on my leg.
“When we got there,” he sighs. “We were right. It was Jim. He’s one of the volunteers at the station, a great guy, and he’s on the ground…”
“Cash.” I say his name softly, squeezing his fingers.
“He’s only forty-five,” Cash says. “He exercises; he’s a firefighter, for Pete’s sake. And now he’s in the hospital with probable heart damage.”
My heart squeezes. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know it happens.” Cash lifts his head and turns to look at me. “I know that. And at least we got to Jim in time. He’s going to survive, although it’ll be a long recovery. But after everything else today, it’s just…”
“What else happened?”
Cash frowns, his eyes darkening to a tarnished copper. “Brett.”
I’ve been afraid of this ever since Cash told me about Brett coming to work for him. As much as I try to see the good in people, to give them second chances, with Brett, it’s nearly impossible. Not after I’ve seen and heard how badly he’s hurt Cash over the years.
But Brett is his brother, his last remaining close relative. I can’t blame Cash for wanting to give him one more chance.
“What happened?”
“He’s been making a lot of mistakes,” Cash says with a sigh. “Losing files, coming in late, missing appointments. If it only happened a couple of times, I’d pass it off as nerves, or just getting used to the job. But…”
He shakes his head, his face clouding. “When I’ve talked to him about it, he always has an excuse. It was someone else’s fault. There was an accident, and he got stuck in traffic. I wantto believe him.”
