Page 36 of Walking the Edge

“It’ll bounce, huh?” She set the litter box down next to the pet cage and crouched to speak soothing words to Tiger.

“She sounded pretty unhappy a minute ago.”

“Because I wasn’t here.”

“She’s not crying now.” Mitch’s boots stopped beside her. “Why don’t you let her out?”

Cath stood. There was no point in letting him feel any more superior by squatting at his feet like a groupie before a rock star. “I can’t. I’d have to close the door.”

His dark brows lowered. He walked over and swung the door back and forth. “It’s got hinges.”

“I see that.” But she and Mitch were in the room alone. With a bed. With the door closed, his brothers would get the wrong idea. Mitch would get the wrong idea. She met his hypnotizing gaze. He looked as if he already had the wrong idea.

Shivers of excitement threatened. Imagine a still pool of water. Be zen.

“Let’s do the test.” Cath dug into her purse and dropped her cell onto the bed. The phone bounced. Maybe an inch. “You were right. What’s this prove?”

“I passed basic training.” Mitch unfolded a comforter across the foot of the bed.

Which looked so inviting she nearly tumbled onto the spread and closed her eyes that minute. A steadying breath kept her upright. “You never did say where I should sleep.”

“This should suit you.” Mitch spread his big hands. “There’s only the one bathroom on this floor.” He took a brown bathrobe from the closet. “You might want to cover up with this if you need to.”

“Thanks.” She hadn’t thought past closing her eyes. “But no.”

“You want to parade down the hall in your undies?” He gaped at her. “I guess I was wrong about you.”

He’d thought about her—and her undies? Warmth again curled into certain body places. “I’m not going to take your bed. There must be another solution.”

“You could always share the living room couch with me.” His lips tugged up.

Oh, right. Where would she put her hands? Where would he put his? Electricity equal to that of a downed power line sent her pulse careening. She crossed her arms. “Neither of us would get any sleep.”

“I’d be willing to test that theory, if you want.”

No doubt. But the homeless couldn’t be choosy. “This room is fine. More than fine. It’s great.”

She took the robe and rubbed her hand over the plush terry cloth. “Thanks for thinking of this.”

“Aunt Edi originally used this room for storage. If you need more room, I’ll take some of these to the attic.” Mitch moved three boxes to the doorway.

“Leave them.” The exhaustion hanging over her head crashed down without warning. Cath dragged herself over, her feet two blocks of cement, but stopped too close to Mitch and staggered back.

He lifted a hand to steady her. “What’s wrong?”

I’m sleepwalking. That’s all. She rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re so tall, I need to step back to see you so I don’t strain my neck.”

He gave her a what-the-hell look, shrugged, and lifted the boxes. She managed to extend a limp hand. “Stop. I’m not going to be here long enough for them to be a problem.”

“You don’t know how long you’ll be here.” He set the cartons in the hall.

“Neither of us want to extend my stay any longer than necessary.”

“Speak for yourself.” Mitch propped his hands on his hips. Way too close to a certain part of his anatomy straining at the zipper of his slacks.

“Could you hold your hands somewhere else?”

“Where would you like them?” He lifted that snarky eyebrow. “I can oblige.”

---