Heat crawled up my neck. “Gabi has a big mouth.”
My sister’s lips twitched into a grin. “Of course she does. When was the last time we met a woman you were involved with? Never. Not since high school.”
I didn’t point out that was because, after high school, everyone on this island had believed I was some kind of predator.
“I’m allowed a private life.”
“Of course you are. But as that private life is sleeping in my guest room—with you—you’ll allow me a little curiosity.”
“Someone tried to kill her, Caro.”
The faint amusement faded. “Yeah. I know what that’s like.”
Fuck. Of course she did. Our father had tried to kill her. Twice. Before Hoyt put an end to it.
“Answer me one thing: is this thing between you because of the circumstances or because of her?”
How could I even answer that? “I wouldn’t have gotten to know the real her without the circumstances, so both, I guess.”
The stairs creaked, and my head snapped up.
Caroline’s mouth twitched. “Relax. That’s her, not a hitman.”
I swallowed a mouthful of coffee that burned on the way down. “Funny.”
Madden appeared in the doorway a minute later, face pale, eyes heavy. She still wore the borrowed pajamas, and her posture curled in a little, as if she hadn’t yet decided whether to be embarrassed or grateful. Parading around the home of a semi-stranger in sleep clothes probably left her feeling a little exposed.
When her gaze landed on me, her shoulders dropped a fraction, and her face softened with relief, like I was an anchor point when her world had tipped entirely off its axis.
That trust had something in my chest squeezing.
She strode on into the kitchen with a stiffness to her posture that hadn’t been there in the bed, like she’d put her armor back on out of habit and didn’t know how to take it off again in front of an audience.
I rose from my chair and snagged her hand, pulling her into me. Her body stilled for a second. Then she exhaled like she’d been holding her breath since the fire and let herself sink into my arms. Her forehead pressed against my shoulder. She swallowed once, and I felt the little tremor she tried to hide.
I flattened both hands against her spine and brushed a kiss to her temple. “There’s coffee.”
“Thank God.” The rasp in her voice was as much sleep as smoke, and the heartfelt words had me smiling, just a little.
“Sit. I’ll get you a cup.”
Carefully releasing her, I nudged her toward an empty seat.
Madden’s gaze darted toward Caroline, color in her cheeks. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Caroline’s tone was bright and brisk, as if she hadn’t just watched her brother hold a woman like his life depended on it. “Rios has the caffeine handled. Are you up to food? I’ve also got a neighbor who dropped off a bag of clothes before sunrise like we’re running a disaster relief station.”
Madden blinked. “A neighbor did what?”
Caroline waved a hand. “People heard. People talk. They bring things when they don’t know what else to do.”
Madden’s expression tightened. Pride, maybe. The reflex to refuse help. I recognized it because it lived in me, too.
Caroline stepped closer, her voice gentling. “It’s not charity. It’s community. Believe me. I’ve been where you are. Take the help.”
Madden’s throat bobbed before she tipped her chin in a small nod.
I set a mug in front of her and lightly rested a hand on her shoulder in a touch that said I’m here without making her look at it.
