Cardinal's Rule

Chapter Seventeen

Landry was finally discharged a day after Cris returned from California. The plan was once he healed from the surgery, his chemo would start. Tilly even volunteered to pick Cris up from the airport.

Their belongings and cars were in transit and would arrive early the next week.

After the first couple of days of taking primary charge of Landry’s care, Cris pulled back to focus more on work and let Tilly take over.

Reluctantly, but he did. Tilly recognized the signs, how he still hovered, jumped to attention every time she asked him a care-related question as if worried something was wrong with Landry. By the time the movers arrived with their things, the three of them had settled into something resembling normalcy.

Tilly was surprised to realize she liked it.

Landry was asleep when the movers arrived with the batch of boxes and furniture that wasn’t earmarked to go into storage. Tilly helped Cris coordinate moving everything into the garage until they could sort it out later. The movers had no sooner left than the car transporter showed up. Finally, an hour later, and with an Acura sedan and a Mercedes unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life sharing her driveway, she was alone with Cris.

She walked around the car. “What the heck is this?”

He smirked. “Master’s toy. His four-wheeled toy,” he clarified. “Mercedes-Benz SLR

McLaren.”

“Expensive?” She nervously looked for any signs of birds in the trees over her drive. The transporter had delivered the cars in an enclosed trailer, not an open truck like she’d seen dealerships use.

He smirked. “Til, let’s just say the insurance on this car for a year usually runs more than most people pay to buy an average mid-priced car.”

“I’m guessing it needs to be in the garage when we finally get the garage cleaned out again?”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. You look pretty nervous.” He grinned.

“Bite me.” She mentally winced as soon as she said it, but he didn’t totally rise to the bait.

“No comment,” he said with a mischievous smile.

She swatted him on the arm. “Be nice to me if you want my help.”

They sorted and unpacked boxes all afternoon. When Landry awoke, she immediately nipped in the bud any protests to her helping Cris. “I volunteered, and I don’t mind doing it because it was either that or stare at you sleeping. I want this house put back into some semblance of order as soon as possible.”

Landry laid back against his pillow and smiled. “Yes, dear.”

Cris brayed with laughter. “I should mark this date down, the date hell officially froze over. He said ‘yes, dear.’”

They were back out in the garage when she spotted a few old boxes in the far corner, ones she remembered packing and while upset, had never had the heart to dispose of. Over the years she’d forgotten them.

She walked over to the shelving units, where they took up all the top shelves. “Hey, Cris?” she softly called.

“Yeah?”

She pointed. “You’ll want these, too.” Then she turned, hurried into the house, and locked herself in Cris’ bathroom for a few minutes to regain her composure. She didn’t dare go to her bedroom, knowing Landry would immediately spot her tears.

When she returned to the garage, Cris had pulled all the boxes down and opened them. He sat cross-legged on the floor, shirtless and in his collar, as he slowly sorted through them.

He didn’t look at her when he softly spoke. “I can’t believe you kept all this.” Mementoes, family pictures, miscellaneous odds and ends. The books, CDs, and DVDs she left in the house. He finally looked at her. “Thank you.”

She nodded, struggling to keep her composure. “You’re welcome.” She cleared her throat.

“Anything else I can help you do out here?”

“Um, yeah, if you want, there’s a few boxes of his clothes over there. They’re marked. And the wardrobe box. I sent most of our winter clothes to storage until I can go through them later.”

She took over doing that, grateful to blame her red eyes on dust and heat when she carried the first box into her bedroom and started unpacking it.

Landry watched from the bed. “I’d offer to help, love, but I suspect that will earn me grief from both you and slave.”

“Got that right, buster. Just sit there and look pretty.”

He smiled. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

She stopped and looked at him. A few weeks ago, she’d been alone. And now…

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

By the end of the next week, Landry felt a little perky and wanted to go to the club. Both Tilly and Cris tried to talk him out of it, but that only seemed to cement his determination. Rather than fighting him, they caved. On Friday night, with Cris behind the wheel and already wearing his formal collar and cuffs, they drove to the club.

Loren glared at Cris, but gave Tilly and Landry a hug. Whenever Loren stopped by the house, Cris always disappeared into his bedroom, the only time Landry told him he was allowed to close his bedroom door without asking permission first.

“I hope you’re beating the shit out of a certain someone tonight,” Loren said to Landry.

Tilly intervened. “No, you can’t help.”

Loren pouted. “He’s right. You are a spoil sport.” She started to say something else, but Ross was ready for her and hollered at her. “Oops, gotta go.” She grinned at Landry. “I’ll catch up with you later, when Tilly is busy.” She stuck her tongue out at her friend and flounced off to join her husband.

Tilly couldn’t help but notice how Cris gave her the slightest of smiles when he caught her eye.

He couldn’t outright tell her thanks in front of Landry, but when Landry turned his back to reach into the toy bag, she did give Cris a wink.

That drew a full, albeit brief smile from him.

Other than the brief glimpse the very first night she encountered Landry at the club, she’d never watched him scene with Cris. He hadn’t felt well enough. Another friend she hadn’t seen in a while caught her attention, and when she returned a few minutes later, Landry had Cris stripped and bound to a bench with wrist and ankle cuffs.

Landry had picked a bench in the corner, and she stepped around behind them, to the wall, and took a seat on the floor next to their gear. She’d opted for slacks and reasonable heels with her corset instead of ridiculously high stilettos. She wasn’t Mistress Cardinal tonight, she was Tilly LaCroux, and she didn’t feel like being dressed uncomfortably.

Landry slowly stroked Cris’ back. He’d been blindfolded, instead of hooded. Tilly watched

Landry’s strong hands as they caressed the other man’s flesh and a flare of heat roiled in her belly.

She wished it was her.

Stop that. Forget it. You’ve got more than you should ask for to start with.

After a few minutes, she realized this Landry, sensually dominant, was a far different man than the vicious sadist she’d witnessed just a little of. If this was indicative of their normal relationship, it eased her mind and conscious marginally, that he could express that kind of tenderness for Cris.

It didn’t last.

Once he had Cris settled into a mindset she guessed probably wasn’t quite subspace, Landry started spanking him with his bare hands. She watched Cris tightly grip the handholds on the bench and wiggle his ass into Landry’s swing, making him laugh.

She also noticed Landry spoke French. “My slave feels playful tonight. That pleases me.” He switched to a riding crop, immediately raising welts on Cris’ ass and thighs. It surprised her he didn’t start with a flogger, but she wouldn’t question it. He obviously knew what he was doing.

From that point on, Landry’s sadism took over. She watched him skillfully stagger the level of play, building up and stepping down, taking the level of pain up a notch each time, until he switched to a cane, then a singletail.

Tilly smoothed her hands over her arms as she watched, fascinated and terrified at the same time. She’d seen heavy play before, plenty of times. Been the top in countless heavy scenes. Landry’s skill took it to another level, calculated strikes that left Cris’ body red and welted.

He paused and stepped around to Cris’ head, grabbed his hair, and roughly hauled his head up so he could speak in his ear. She couldn’t hear what Landry said to Cris, or the reply, over the loud music rolling through the dungeon space.

Landry smiled and released Cris, then picked up a heavy mop flogger.

He swung it, nailing Cris squarely in the balls and making Tilly wince in sympathy.

She didn’t miss how Landry ordered him to come, in French.

Three more hard strikes and he did, his body convulsing on the bench until he collapsed, spent and exhausted. Landry unhooked his ankles first, rubbing his feet for him before unhooking his wrists and helping him sit up.

The feelings swirling through her as she watched them together caught her by surprise. Landry stood there, eyes closed, holding Cris. Cris, no longer blindfolded but with his eyes also closed, wrapped his arms around Landry’s waist and sat there on the bench, leaning against his Master’s body.

There was something heartbreakingly tender in the way he held Cris. The bond they had, she knew, could never be usurped by her.

While they were distracted, she carefully slipped away to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She’d opted for no make-up other than lip gloss, even her hair, now starting to grow out and dyed its old color, wasn’t gelled or spiked.

She loved Landry, and he loved her, without a doubt.

But where did she fit in?

He went through his first round of chemo. Over the week before his second round started, even though Landry still made love to Tilly, she caught him in intimate situations with Cris as well. One morning she finished her work out to find Landry sitting on Cris’ bed, with Cris on his knees in front of him, going down on him, his fingers tangled in Cris’ hair.

Another time she walked in from grocery shopping to catch Cris on the tail end of giving

Landry a blow job on the living room couch.

Cris didn’t meet her gaze when Landry sent him out to help her unload the rest of the groceries.

Another time Landry stepped into the shower with Cris, and when she listened at the bathroom door they’d left cracked open, no doubt purposefully on Landry’s part, she heard Landry letting Cris beat off and Cris’ familiar moan of pleasure as he climaxed.

Conflicted feelings raced through her as old memories struggled to mash her composure into a bloody pulp. She couldn’t honestly say she minded Landry using Cris like that.

But the longing she felt and couldn’t clearly identify truly troubled her. Did she miss Cris? Did she wish she was a part of their lovemaking? Did she, in fact, want Landry all to herself?

Did she wish she was bound to the bench with Landry in charge?

She couldn’t answer any of those questions.

The night before his next round of chemo was scheduled to start, he made love to her, leaving her thoroughly sated and ready to go to sleep. As she started drifting, he kissed her. “Would you mind if I spent a little time with Cris?”

Almost asleep, she mumbled her assent and rolled over. It wasn’t until she heard the click of the bedroom door softly shutting that her brain caught up with his comment and her eyes popped open.

Now that she thought about it, she realized he hadn’t climaxed.

She sat up, sleep driven from her system. After a few minutes, she climbed out of bed, grabbed her robe, and quietly opened the bedroom door.

Down the hall, she heard soft voices from Cris’ room. Landry had left the door halfway open.

After fighting and winning over a bout of guilt, she silently walked down the hall and stood just outside the doorway. She couldn’t see the bed directly without pushing the door open farther, but she could see everything reflected in the dresser mirror from the light of the full moon flowing through the open blinds.

They lay on their sides, Landry’s back pressed against Cris’ chest. Cris had his arms around Landry. The men kissed and she realized Cris was fucking Landry.

“That’s my good boy,” Landry softly told him. “You take good care of me, don’t you?”

Despite her earlier session with Landry, where he pulled three strong climaxes out of her, she felt her clit throb as she watched them together. Landry still might have been Cris’ Master, but she watched two men in love making love.

Cris arm slid down Landry’s abs and grabbed his cock, slowly stroking as he fucked his lover.

“Jesus, Lan, I love you.”

“Show me how much you love me, buddy.”

She leaned against the wall, her heart racing as she listened to them. Part of her wanted to crawl into bed with them.

That’s a dangerous thought.

The look on Cris’ face couldn’t be any different than the submissive mask she’d gotten used to over the past couple of months. He kissed Landry again, his hips flexing as he thrust. “You gonna come for me?” He squeezed Landry’s cock, slowly stroking it. “I’m not gonna come till you come for me first.”

Her knees weakened. He even sounded like her old Cristo. She grabbed onto the wall when her knees threatened to give out.

“Fuck me,” Landry urged. “Give it to me.” His voice bore a needy edge she’d never heard from him.

Not even at their most passionate of times together.

“Oh, I’ll give it to you, all right.” He kissed Landry again, fiercely. Landry let out a low moan she knew all too well before he cried out.

“That’s it,” Cris gasped as he thrust harder, before he too let out a familiar cry and fell still.

The men lay there, entwined, kissing as they recovered from their lovemaking.

Tilly almost forgot to move when he heard Cris softly say, “I’ll go get a washcloth for you, Master.” Back to slave.

She ducked into the office, behind the door, and listened as Cris ran water in the bathroom. A moment later she heard the men talking in the bedroom again.

On silent feet she raced back to her bedroom and quietly closed the door, tossed her robe into the closet, and dove into bed. Hopefully her pulse would slow before Landry returned.

Landry smiled as he waited for Cris to return with the washcloth. It’d been a struggle for him not to meet her gaze in the mirror as she watched them. He’d hoped she’d come join them, but that was a point he couldn’t press her on no matter how hard he wished he could.

He hoped she’d enjoyed the show.

Cris knelt next to him on the bed and wiped him down. Landry crooked a finger at him and Cris leaned in for a kiss.

“I love you, Cristo. Always and forever, love. You know that, right?”

He’d kill for the smile Cris gave him. “I love you too, Lan.” His smile faded. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not throwing me out when you found out.”

He motioned for Cris to lie next to him. “I love you. Was I tempted? Honestly? Yes.” He stroked Cris’ cheek. “I love you beyond measure. You have more than proven yourself to me. Please don’t think I don’t see that.”

“But you love Tilly.”

He nodded. “I do. I love her very much. Why?”

Cris looked troubled. “What if she orders me gone?”

He propped himself up on one elbow. “Then I supposed I’d have to lobby her as strongly for you to stay as she lobbied for you to keep your cock and balls, wouldn’t I?”

He was glad he could leave Cris laughing. He climbed out of bed and made his way back to their bedroom. Tilly had arranged herself in the bed as if asleep, but when he slipped his arm around her waist and kissed the back of her neck, he felt the tension in her body, the way her pulse still raced.

He suspected if he plunged his fingers between her legs he’d find her even wetter than he’d left her from what she’d witnessed.

“Good night, love,” he whispered to her.

“Good night.”

Slowly, he thought. Patiently. It’s well worth the wait.

Landry’s next round of chemo stripped away what little remained of his good mood even as it worked to kill off the cancerous cells in his body. Tilly fought the urge to intervene between the men on Cris’ behalf as Landry took his bad mood out on their resident slave. As Master Grouchypants turned into Master Major Assholio, she realized fully what Cris had suffered through—alone—the first time around. Landry occasionally acted terse with her when he felt particularly bad or tired, but he always immediately apologized for it.

Unlike with Cris, who took the full brunt of it head-on, usually without question or complaint.

Two weeks into his chemo, Cris was in the kitchen with his laptop, trying to multi-task between fixing dinner and handling a crisis at the office, where it was only three in the afternoon. Tilly volunteered to take over dinner, but Landry, stretched out on the couch, heard her offer.

“Don’t you dare do it, slave!” he yelled. “I told you to fix dinner, goddammit, and that’s what I meant.”

She watched Cris close his eyes, recognizing that old expression of his as he tried to rein in his irritation. “Yes, Master,” he called back before looking at Tilly. “Thanks anyway,” he whispered, offering her a half-hearted smile.

She returned to the living room. “Lan, listen, he’s busy. Let me do it, sweetie. I’m not doing anything.”

“No.” The petulant look on his face meant he’d dug in his heels on the principle of the matter.

No amount of wheedling on her part would probably change his mind.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She knelt beside him and forced a sultry smile. “Please? I promise I’ll do a little modeling for you later, if you’d like.”

His eyes flicked her way, then returned to the TV. She might be making ground. “No. He can handle it. You don’t need to do his job. I don’t want my wife to have to work. That’s slave’s job.”

From the kitchen and out of Landry’s line of sight, Cris anxiously shook his head at her, warning her to drop it, but she couldn’t. She understood Landry felt like shit, but he’d hardly paid Cris a single kind word in days.

She took a deep breath. “I really think I should take care of dinner toni—”

“Goddammit, Tilly, I fucking said no. Now drop it.”

Tilly blinked, shocked at his tone as much as his words. She was about to let him have it, but Cris raced around the counter before she could come up with a response.

Cris stepped in front of her. “Landry, goddammit, don’t you dare take that fucking tone with her!”

Landry sat up, his face red with rage. “What the fuck did you say to me, slave?”

Tilly tried to get between the men, but Cris gently pushed her behind him. “You fucking heard me. Lay off her, she was just trying to be helpful. You want to be pissed off, take it out on me, not her, goddammit.”

Landry stood, although she saw the effort pained him, and got in Cris’ face. “How dare you, you ungrateful bastard!”

“Ungrateful? You’re the one treating her like shit right now, and you’re calling me ungrateful?”

“Boys, please, stop! It’s okay.”

Landry ignored her and stepped forward, but Cris refused to give ground. “No, it’s not okay, Til,” Cris insisted. “He’s just being a pain in the ass.”

“I’m going to beat that attitude out of you, slave,” Landry growled. “Need to remind you who’s in charge. Teach you respect.”

Tilly didn’t like how pale Landry suddenly looked. She stepped around Cris and resurrected her own Domme-y voice. “Stop it, both of you!” She forced herself between Landry and Cris. “I am going to cook dinner, and that’s all there is to it. Cardinal’s Rule, remember? It’s my fucking house. You are going to sit your ass back down on that couch and watch TV, and you’re going to let him get his work done. That’s a fucking order!”

“He can’t talk to me like that! I refuse to tolerate that behavior from him.”

“What,” Cris taunted, “you mean calling you out for acting like a dickhead and treating her like shit? At least I never treated her like that. I never raised my voice to her, you fucking asshole! You want to abuse me, fine, I’ll take it, but you treat her like shit and you and me will get into it, because I won’t tolerate it.”

Tilly winced as Landry roared, enraged, and lunged around her trying to get at Cris. She refused to budge and that’s when Landry’s face went from pissed to pained and he gasped.

Cris didn’t miss it either. “What? What’s wrong?”

He doubled over in pain. “Sick…”

Cris raced for the kitchen garbage can as Tilly steadied Landry. They got it under him just as he vomited bright red blood.

Stunned, Cris froze.

“Call 911 right now, Cris.” She was too busy holding the garbage can under Landry and trying to get him back to the couch.

When she realized he hadn’t moved, she looked at him. “Cris! Get the fucking phone and call

911! Get an ambulance!”

That broke through his shock and he bolted for the phone. She rode with Landry in the ambulance while Cris secured the house and followed in Tilly’s car. He caught up with her in the ER waiting room, where they stayed only fifteen minutes before Landry was taken back for surgery. A nurse showed them where to wait for word from the OR. Tilly led Cris to two vacant chairs in the room, which seemed unusually crowded for six o’clock at night.

Cris wouldn’t look at Tilly. “This is my fault,” he said, his pained voice little more than an agonized whisper. “This is all my fault. He’s going to hate me.”

She grabbed his hand. “Stop. This is not your fault!”

“If I hadn’t made him upset, he wouldn’t have yelled at me. This is just like my dad all over again. I’m sorry, Tilly. I should have just kept my mouth shut and not pissed him off more, but I couldn’t stand hearing him talk to you like that.”

Pushing back her conflicted emotions, she focused on comforting him. “Maybe that saved his life. If he hadn’t thrown up blood, he could have bled a lot worse before we knew he had a problem.

You didn’t cause his bleeding, so just stop.”

He pulled his hand free and wrapped his arms around his body, trying to hug himself. “Tilly, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to spare my feelings.” His voice dropped. “I should have just kept my mouth shut. I’m so sorry. If you want me to, I’ll leave.”

She wanted to scream at him but the waiting room full of people prevented that. She squatted in front of him, grabbed his head in her hands, and did something she had never done to Cris before.

She scruffed the back of his neck.

“Listen to me, slave,” she whispered, “you did not harm your Master.” She gently shook him for emphasis. “You guys had a fight. It didn’t cause his bleeding.”

His eyes widened as he looked at her, his instincts at war inside him, hers at war within her.

She knew she had his attention and pressed the advantage. “If he wakes up and finds out I didn’t snap you out of this, he’ll want to take a cane to my ass. Let me tell you something, I don’t plan on letting that happen. You’re the only whipping boy in our house.”

He slowly blinked before his lips curled in a faint smile. She stood and hugged him, his face pressed against her tummy as he wrapped his arms around her and softly cried. “Jesus, I love him, Til.

I’m sorry. I know this sucks for you. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stand hearing him yell at you. I’m sorry. I love him, but I can’t listen to him treat you like that and not stand up to him.”

She stroked his hair. “It’s okay. I love him, too.”

His body tensed as he looked up at her. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, duh. What do you think I’ve been saying the past couple of months? No job is worth putting up with that kind of shit without love being involved.”

He looked hopeful. “Does that mean you might not leave after three years?”

“Possibly.” She stroked his hair again. “You know the rules. No bugging me about it.”

“Cardinal’s rules.” He laughed and rested his head against her again, his body relaxing. “I love you, baby girl. So much.”

He tensed again as he realized what he’d said.

“Til, I’m sor—”

“It’s okay,” she quietly reassured him. She leaned in and kissed the top of his head. “I still love you, too. I’m just not sure I like you very much yet. Give me some time with that.”

An hour later, the doctor walked out to talk to them and they both stood to follow him to a quiet corner to discuss Landry’s condition. “He’s doing well, he’ll be in recovery for a few hours, then we’ll move him into a room. I want him to stay in for at least a couple of days just to make sure.”

They both sighed in relief. “How bad was it?” Tilly asked.

“It’s a good thing you got him in when you did. If he’d waited a day it could have severely complicated his condition.”

“What about his other treatments?”

“I’ve already consulted with his oncologist. They said we’ll give him a few days to heal from this before they start him up again. But his blood work actually looked good, other than being anemic from the loss of blood, so that’s very promising. Don’t worry, this isn’t an uncommon occurrence.”

She relaxed against Cris’ comforting arm as he drew her close to his side. “Thank you, Doctor.”

She hugged Cris. “See?” she mumbled against his chest. “He’ll be okay.”

He stroked her back as he nuzzled the top of her head. “Thank you, Til. Thank you for being here for him.”

She poked him in the chest. “Not just him. You, too.” She looked up into his face, stood on her toes, and kissed him. “No more whining about stuff you can’t control, right? New rule.”

He smiled. “Understood. I need to write these down. You have more rules than he does.”

“There’s only one rule you need to write down.”

He grinned. “Cardinal’s Rule: She must be obeyed.”

She let him hug her again as she laughed. “That’s right. Cardinal’s Rule. And I’m going to smack Master Grouchypants upside the head when he gets better. He violated my ‘do what Tilly says’ rule.”

Cris snorted with amusement. “I’d hate to be him.”

They let them know when Landry was out of recovery and in a room. He looked pale and weak.

Tilly’s heart ached for him, wanting her strong husband back and knowing he had a long road to travel before that occurred.

Meanwhile, she realized she didn’t mind holding on to Cris’ hand for her own comfort.

Landry opened his eyes when she kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I warned you I’m a suck-ass patient.”

Forcing a smile, she gently poked his shoulder. “Yeah, well, you get a whipping of your own for not listening to me and doing what I said. You promised.”

He nodded. “I deserve it.” He turned to Cris. “I’m sorry.”

Cris looked shocked. “For what?”

“For being an asshole, dumbass. That’s why. Why do you put up with me when I get like this?”

“Because I love you. So how badly am I getting beat for that little transgression?”

A weak smile curled Landry’s lips. “No. You stood up for her. I can’t punish you for that. If I hadn’t snapped at her, you wouldn’t have jumped in. That’s my fault. I admit it.”

Her heart ached as she watched Cris quickly wipe at his eyes. “I love you, Lan. Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of us.”

“So, you’re still stuck with me? I’m not checking out yet? That couldn’t have been good.”

Tilly smiled. “Yeah, you don’t get away from us that easy, buster. Doctor says you’ll be okay, it’s just a minor setback. Ruptured blood vessel. They fixed it and after a couple days here for observation, you can go home.”

He started to say something when the nurse came in to take his vitals and check his IV meds.

“I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over,” she said.

Landry crooked a finger at them. “Come give me a kiss. Both of you.”

Cris let Tilly go first. When they stepped back, Landry pointed at Cris. “You keep taking good care of her, you hear? That’s an order.”

He smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

Landry settled back against his pillow. “Smart ass.”

“Grouchy bastard.”

“Brat,” Landry shot back with a teasing, albeit tired tone. Tilly got the impression this was some sort of tradition with them.

“Stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn?” Landry said. “You’re pigheaded.”

“Look who’s talking—”

“Boys,” Tilly interrupted. “Focus.”

The men chuckled. Cris leaned in for one last kiss. “Don’t harass your nurses, Lan. They might make your stay miserable. Especially if I bribe them.”

Landry smiled. “Say good night Gracie, and take my baby home.”

Tilly knew Landry addressed that to Cris, but she grabbed Cris’ hand. “Good night, Gracie.

Now let’s go home.”

Cris drove as she sat slumped in the passenger seat, her nerves shot. Nearly midnight, she was starving, exhausted, and belatedly realized she was looking at a night alone in a too-large bed.

Even though she’d spent years sleeping alone, now she couldn’t face the empty real estate on the other side of the mattress.

Cris fixed them both sandwiches. She took a long, hot shower and didn’t even try to go to sleep.

Instead, she changed into an oversized T-shirt and sleeping shorts and curled up with a blanket on the couch with an old movie channel on. A little after one, Cris returned to the living room, dressed in nothing but sleeping pants and his collar.

“Can’t sleep either?”

She shook her head.

“Mind if I join you?”

He looked like he expected her to make room at the foot of the couch, but she sat up and patted the other end. Once he sat, she settled herself in his lap. “Don’t make anything out of this,” she groused.

He held her hand. “I told you, I’ll settle for any scraps thrown my way and be damn grateful for them.”

She fell asleep in his lap five minutes later.