over at the plate she’d brought him.
Goddamn it, he was not going to feel guilty because he wanted to get good and wasted. There was nothing wrong about seeking the simple darkness of rest, as opposed to the twisted torture of nightmares.
Okay, so the alcohol didn’t really work. At least not for very long. Somehow the hell of the storm always managed to fight through the scotch fog, chewing him up and spitting him out shaky and sweaty and sick to his stomach.
But the brown stuff did get him a couple hours of sleep.
He brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips.
And found his eyes on the plate of food again.
“Is everything all right up there?” Gray asked as Cass walked into the dining room. “We heard something hit the floor. Something big.”
“Everything’s fine.”
Her friend narrowed his shrewd eyes but let the sub-ject drop.
Cass got some food and headed for the empty seat next to Sean. The man stood up and pulled out her chair.
“Did I tell you I spoke with Mick Rhodes?” Sean asked as he pushed the seat in under her. “He loves what you did to his place in Greenwich. Thinks you’re an architectural genius as well as one hell of a general contractor.”
She smiled, thinking of Rhodes and the antique, six- bedroom Colonial in Greenwich he loved so much. Some people had great love for their houses and he was one of them. The man had been like a mother hen with a chick.
“He was a prince to work for.”
Sean eyed her dryly. “We talking about the same guy? Because Rhodes has been described as a lot of things. Prince usually isn’t one of them.”
“He was fine with me. We had a lot of fun together on that project.”
“Amazing,” Sean muttered as he picked up his wineglass and leaned back in the chair. “So I’ve been meaning to ask you, what kind of projects are you doing now?”
“I haven’t been working much since—” she cleared her throat “—since Reese died.”
She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and glanced over at O’Banyon’s hard face. His gray eyes were always flinty, even when he was in a good mood, but at this moment, they were as close to warm as ice could get.
“How you been doing?” he asked quietly, his Boston accent bleeding into the words.
“Better than I thought.” She smiled. “We were great friends, he and I. Even today I caught myself reaching for the cell phone. I was down by the lake. The waves were choppy and gray and the sky was milky white and the mountains were almost purple, and I thought, I need to call Reese and tell him what this looks like.”
She stared down at her food. Her appetite was gone and she thought of Alex, upstairs. No wonder he had no interest in eating. He’d lost his best friend, his partner. He’d been through multiple operations. And he was now facing the possible amputation of a leg.
“Anything I can do?” Sean said.
She covered his hand with her own. “I’ll get through this. And work’s going to help. In fact, I’d love to find a project I could totally sink into. I think I’m ready.”
“Are you truly looking for something to do?” Joy asked gently from the head of the table.
Cass smiled at the younger woman who had become a friend. “Yes.”
“Would you be willing to take a look at White Caps?”
“Your family’s house?”
Joy nodded. “We’d like to try and repair the fire damage quickly so we can reopen for next season in June. We just don’t know where to start. Or who to trust.”
“You run a B and B out of the mansion, don’t you?”
“Yes. That’s why we want to move fast.”
Cass thought about it for a moment. “We could go tomorrow morning before Sean and I leave for the city.”
“That would be wonderful. I didn’t want to ask you, but we’d really appreciate your guidance.”
“How much did the fire take?”
“The kitchen and the staff quarters got the worst of it, but two guest bedrooms were damaged as well. Fortunately, the insurance company is going to pay up.”
“Well…I’d love to take a look at it.”
When dinner was over, Cass helped Libby clean up in the kitchen. By the time they were finished, all the guests had turned in for the night. As Cass headed upstairs, she told herself there was no reason to go back to Alex’s room.
She was arguing with herself when she realized she was standing in front of his door.
Slowly turning the knob, she put her head in. In the glow from the bedside lamp, she saw that he was still lying on top of the covers. There was a book facedown in his lap and his eyes were squeezed shut. Although he might have technically been asleep, considering the tension in his face, he was not resting.
Stepping inside, she shut the door so light from the outside hall wouldn’t wake him up. She was very quiet as she walked through the dim room, focusing only on the man stretched out so immense and motionless on the bed. When her foot knocked into something, she looked down. It was a scotch bottle that was mostly empty. As she righted the thing, she glanced at the prescription pills by the lamp. She recognized some of the names. They were big-league painkillers.
She watched his breathing. It was very slow.
What if he’d mixed the drugs with alcohol?
She glanced at the plate. At least he’d eaten most of the food she’d brought him.
“Alex?” she said softly.
She touched his forearm. His skin was warm.
“Alex?”
Bending down, she took a sniff through her nose. She couldn’t detect any liquor smell at all, and his breathing was regular.
He’s fine, she thought. Just asleep. So pick up that plate and leave the poor man alone.
Instead, she stared down at his face, thinking about the way he’d lashed out at her and then apologized with such rough honesty.
On a crazy impulse she put her hand out and touched his cheek.
She immediately reeled her arm back in. Boy, he’d have tossed her out on her ass if he’d been awake.
But he wasn’t. And the hard lines of his face drew her like nothing ever had.
She reached out again.
Alex came awake the moment something brushed over his cheek, but he didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes.
