He and Beck were reclined on the couch. They’d clearly been waiting for her. As she dropped her purse on the coffee table, Beck pressed a button on the remote and turned off the football game, the TV screen going blank.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Jase,” West said, “and honestly, I don’t want to know.”

“But we’re not stupid,” Beck added. “We can guess.”

Limbs heavy, Brook Lynn trudged to a chair and eased down. Their words could mean only one thing, and it calmed her down significantly. “He’s freaking out right now, isn’t he?”

West inclined his head. “He came stomping in at four this morning. Woke me up. I found him in the kitchen, pounding back Red Bull and pacing. We talked, and for hours he watched the clock, waiting for the moment you would arrive. But then something snapped inside him, and he said he had to get some supplies in town. He beat feet.”

Good. A freak-out meant some part of him cared for her more than he’d realized—he just didn’t want to admit it. “Has he never done a relationship before?” she asked.

“One,” Beck admitted. “They were together for two years.”

Hate her already. “Why’d they break up?”

West propped his feet on the coffee table, saying, “Jase will have to give you those details.”

Even as curious as she was, she liked that they were unwilling to share details about their friend. Proved their loyalty. But she needed intel, dang it. “What will you tell me? Because I’ve got some decisions to make. Like how to handle him, how to handle us. If we’ve got a chance for a future, or if I should just throw in the towel now, before either of us gets hurt.” And by either of us, she totally meant I.

The guys shared a look, and Beck nodded.

West sighed and said, “He’s had a hard life. Been betrayed by everyone he’s ever loved. Including us.”

She blinked in surprise. “How did you—”

“Again, those are details he’ll have to give you,” Beck interjected.

She nodded in understanding—or, pretend understanding—then motioned for West to continue.

“I’ve never seen him so worked up about a woman, and I don’t know what to think about it.” West pegged her with a hard stare. “He looks as tough as iron, but he’s actually as fragile as glass. If you want him, you’ll have to fight for him. But if you don’t think you can handle a few internal battle wounds, it’ll be better for him if you let him go now rather than later.”

Oh, she could handle a few battle wounds. She’d never been as intensely attracted to a man as she was to Jase. She’d never before given herself so fully to one’s possession. And she wanted more, definitely. But could a happily-ever-after be based solely on lust and sex? No.

What would a future with him entail? Those rare smiles that lit his entire face...the rusty sound of laughter only she seemed capable of summoning...a quirky wit that perfectly matched her own...unconditional acceptance for who and what she was...

Would he ever be interested in marriage? What about a family? Both were important to her.

But did she really want marriage if she wasn’t sure it was with the right man? Was a family already set up for failure if the right couple wasn’t at its helm?

Being with Jase would be a big-time gamble. He could decide he was done with her at any time and walk away. But so could anyone else. He was her boss, and being with him could backfire and make her feel like a whore. He could fire her if things didn’t work out. Or, even worse, he could keep her on, and she would have to see him with other women.

But he could also fall head over heels in love with her...

How awesome would that be? She could touch him anytime the urge hit...hug him and kiss him, comfort him...take care of him while he took care of her...shiver as he offered her a smile designed for her and her alone...

She squared her shoulders. “I’ll fight for him,” she announced. Jase angered and frustrated her, yes, but he also fascinated and delighted her. “I need you to listen to this next part and heed it. I’ll do it my way. You two aren’t to interfere. No matter what I say or do. Got it?”

* * *

SEVEN DAYS.

Seven miserable days.

That’s how long ago Jase had woken up in Brook Lynn’s bed, her naked body curled around him. He’d experienced such bliss. Such...contentment. Like nothing else he’d ever known. But then the familiar fear that it couldn’t—wouldn’t—last had intruded, and panic had set in.

He’d left her, basically running for his life, thinking a little time away from her would put him back on track, strengthen his resolve to remain alone and detached...but he’d only grown to want her more.

Gritting his teeth, Jase toyed with the strawberry charm she’d given him. The one she’d made. He’d removed Jessie Kay’s photo and now carried it everywhere, a reminder of what he shouldn’t want...but couldn’t resist.

To be honest, it wasn’t just sexual things he craved from Brook Lynn. It was her as a person. He was so much more...complete when they were together. She met needs he hadn’t known he’d had.

If he was fire, she was water. If he was dark, she was light. She wasn’t afraid to tease him, to let down her guard with him, and she actually seemed to enjoy him. But he hadn’t come clean about his past. She deserved to know who he was—what he was—before they went any further. If she even wanted to go further. That damn contract.