When Troy slipped into the guestroom over an hour later, he came to a sharp halt, looking down at the sleeping pair on the bed. Juan lay on his side, knees drawn up, and his bandaged hand resting palm up near his bottom shoulder. That arm circled the tan shape of Burrito Belle, curled even more tightly, as close to Juan’s body as she could get. His right hand rested over her like a sheltering tent. He’d slipped off his shoes, but was still dressed otherwise.
A surge of protectiveness such as he’d felt at times for his younger brother and sisters swept through Troy, but this time it was seasoned by a s****l overtone so powerful it nearly stole his breath. The power of that feeling was too compulsive to resist. He had to be close to this man, someone he still barely knew, but for whom he’d
