She stepped into the still-unfamiliar living room. Tension she hadn’t even realized was knotted in her shoulders unraveled. There he was at the table, reading the paper with his bare feet propped on a chair. Bare feet didn’t scream time to run away, did they?
“Hey,” he greeted. He folded the newspaper and smiled.
Friendly enough, but Cassandra suddenly felt as if she was under the icy-cold shower again. “I figured on letting you sleep awhile. You must be pretty worn-out.”
“That’s sweet,” she decided, belting her robe tighter and moving into the center of the room. Did she give him a kiss? Just act casual? She wasn’t sure. “But you haven’t had much sleep, either. Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m used to going without.”
For his job? Because he didn’t like to sleep?
“Why?”
He got to his feet, o
