Brook Lynn shook her head. “You are the man parents warn their daughters about.”

“Thank you.”

“Because it was totally a compliment.”

He wagged a finger at her. “You’re my assistant,” he said. “And yet, I strangely do not recall being assisted with this bang and bail.”

“Actually, I’m Jase’s assistant.”

“Why limit yourself? You can work for us both. Besides, if Jase had been inside, he would have commanded you to get rid of my date for me.”

“You did fine on your own, and you didn’t even have to prepare your special breakfast.”

“That’s because it’s lunchtime,” he said, as if she were missing a few brain cells. “What are you serving?”

“To Jase? Sandwiches. They’ll be ready in thirty. To you? Only advice. If you don’t want your conquests to get the wrong idea, don’t let them stay the night. Or, I don’t know, maybe keep it in your pants once in a while.”

“I met Helen...Harriet?...this morning. We came back here for a quickie. Her idea.”

“Seriously?”

He walked over and cupped her cheek. “Yes, cupcake. I’m that good. And for your information, I would be willing to keep it in my pants, no problem, but I keep getting requests for showings.”

She batted him away. “I know where that hand has been.”

Unoffended, he adjusted the cuffs at his wrists.

“You need a new hobby,” she told him.

For a moment, only a moment, his expression registered seriousness. “Sometimes sex is the only way to keep the darkness at bay.”

“Beck,” she said, suddenly wanting to hug him.

He grabbed his car keypad from the kitchen counter—apparently he drove some kind of alien vehicle with a keyless start—and flashed her a wicked grin meant to shut down any sympathy on her part. “By the way, I’ve been tracking down a surprise for Jase. Someone from his past. I don’t think he’s interested anymore, but he has a right to choose, you know? Anyway, I’m close to success, so for my reward I’d like a ham and cheese casserole for dinner.”

“Someone from his past?” If he wanted a meeting with an old school chum, she would like to be the one to track the guy down. Because she owed him. Not for any other reason. “And what do you mean, choose?”

“Sorry, pretty, but I only share information that important when I’m naked.”

“Then I’ll happily go to my grave ignorant of the person’s identity and the choice Jase has to make, whatever it is.” She motioned to the sandwiches she’d spent the past two hours preparing. Even rapid-rise fresh-baked bread took time. “Take a look at the lunch you’re not going to get.”

He might have whimpered. “I’ll change your mind. Just see if I don’t.” Beck gave her a jaunty salute before stalking from the room.

Well. While the bread was cooling, she had better check on Jase. He was probably dying of thirst. And she couldn’t let that happen, now, could she? She filled a glass with water and carried it outside, the sun hotter and brighter than it had been a few hours ago. She scanned the backyard. The shed Jase had refurbished so expertly looked brand-new. The redbuds and magnolias were in full bloom, the towering oaks throwing umbrellas of shade in every direction. Lovely, but there was no sign of Jase.

“Jase?”

The squawk of black birds was the only response.

She trudged around the side of the house—and that’s where she found him. His back was to her, and he was as still as a statue.

“Jase,” she repeated and walked around him.

He was staring at his hand. His bloody hand. Crimson pooled in his palm and dripped onto the ground...a discarded hoe.

She gasped, horrified, and dropped the water. “Jase, are you okay?”

He gave no indication that he’d heard her, just continued to stare down at his injury. His expression disturbed her. It was totally and completely blank. As if he wasn’t all there, his thoughts far away.

Not wanting to startle him, but knowing he needed help, she gently tapped his shoulder. “Jase.”

The contact jolted him out of the trance, and before she could blink, his arm shot out. He shoved her with enough force to send her tripping backward, falling to her bottom. She landed in the cold water she’d spilled, the glass rolling away from her. His face contorted into the darkest, meanest scowl she’d ever seen, scaring the crap out of her. His hands fisted, the blood now pouring from the wound.

He took a menacing step toward her, and she would have sworn she saw her death shining in his eyes. He looked at her as he’d never looked before: as if she were a stranger to him. A faceless threat to be eliminated.

She crab-walked backward, uttering a trembling, “Jase? Please. Listen to me. It’s me, Brook Lynn.” There was no way she could defend herself against him if he attacked, the strength she’d once lauded enough to kill her.

Fear moved through her like an avalanche, growing stronger, bigger. Consuming her.

He just kept coming. Closer and closer...

“Jase.” She lumbered to her feet and held out an arm. A puny move, but what else could she do? “You’re scaring me, and I need you to stop. Jase!”

He blinked, skidded to a halt. “Brook Lynn?” Frowning, he shook his head, as if to clear cobwebs. “Are you okay?”

Relief gradually melted the avalanche. “I—I’m fine.”