It took him a second to understand her through her halting, laughter-filled speech, but then he realized what she'd said.

And he burst out laughing.

Not for nothing, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that.

By the time she stumbled out from behind his bar and Marco had taken the man's order, his cheeks ached and he felt more alive inside than he could last remember.

And it was all because of Alyssa.

Every day, she became more and more appealing to him. Her looks, her smile, her big heart-everything about her lured him in, made him want more, made him want it all, with her. Which was just not fucking possible.

Hating the realization, Marco watched her enter the dining room and approach one of her tables. Much as he wished otherwise, he was too damn jaded and broken for someone as young and hopeful as Alyssa. Sure, it might be okay for a few months, but what about in a year or five years? His bitterness and pain would wear her down until he saw it reflected back to himself through her eyes. And that would kill him.

Part of him hated the idea, but he had to get her out of his house. Seeing her at work every day was challenging enough, but no way could he continue to resist the comfort and familiarity of being with her 24/7.

Hell, maybe he'd thought about this all wrong the night he invited her to stay. Maybe she was better off living out of a hotel room than getting stuck with him.

She had to go for her own good-and for his, too. And soon.

Chapter Nine

The alarm on her cell phone woke Alyssa. She fumbled for it, her thumb finally swiping over the button that turned it off. Dragging the phone closer, she read the time: two a.m. Perfect.

Or it would be once she shook the fog of sleep from her head.

A few yawns and a trip to the bathroom later, she felt a bit more human. She waited at the arch to the dining room, knowing his nightmares would come and that she'd be there to chase them away.

Minutes passed. She shifted her position against the arch.

Marco groaned, a strangled sound in the quiet of the house.

Alyssa padded across the rooms to his side and knelt as she had the night before.

He kicked out a leg and moaned low in his throat, his breath going short and choppy.

Heart racing, Alyssa grasped the big, masculine hand hanging over the edge of the futon. He squeezed her fingers, the moonlight illuminating a tormented grimace and a clenched jaw.

"Shh, it's okay," she whispered. "I'm here."

He rolled from his back to his side, facing her, his hand pulling hers in until it rested against the heated skin of his bare chest. Twice, he unleashed long shaky sighs, and then he stilled.

Relief eased the tension in Alyssa's neck. Thank God she could do this for him. Aside from a little sleep deprivation, it wasn't that hard. Not that she wouldn't sacrifice almost anything for Marco's happiness.

Alyssa found a position she could tolerate for a while and rested her head on the edge of the futon. The moon created a halo of light around his dark hair that shadowed his face. But she could feel the soft puffs of his breath against the back of the hand he held, and it made her smile.

The rhythmic sound and feel of him sleeping lured her eyes to close. Just for a few minutes...

Marco moaned deep in his chest and his hand flew free of hers.

Alyssa was immediately awake, her heart thundering so hard in her chest she had to work to catch her breath. "Shh, you're okay. Hey, come on," she whispered. She grasped his hand and stroked his skin with her thumb.

While the worst of his torment eased, his muscles continued to twitch and his breath hitched.

Alyssa frowned, wondering what had disturbed him. Maybe she'd let go of his hand in her sleep?

She forced herself into more of a sitting position to ensure it didn't happen again. In the stillness, small sounds stood out. The white noise of the central air, the hum of the refrigerator, from outside, the chirping of cicadas over and over.

Marco's hand clenched, squeezing hers. He released an anguished cry. "No."

Alyssa frowned, her certainty that she could help harder to hold on to with every outburst. No way was she giving up, though. Her presence had worked wonderfully last night. Slowly, gently, she lifted her free hand and stroked his hair. Once, twice. He shuddered and leaned into her touch. Moments later, he quieted again. He remained calm, so she continued running her hands over his surprisingly soft hair until her arm grew too tired to hold up.

For the rest of the night, every time Alyssa's eyes threatened to close, Marco stirred. Her stomach sank. Only the fact that she seemed capable of easing him each time the nightmares restarted kept her hopes from being dashed altogether.

When the first light of morning chased the darkness from the room, she withdrew her hand and hobbled her achy, tired body back to bed. She reset the alarm on her phone for nine thirty. She needed to buy some new clothes for work that morning, so no lazing around all day for her.

The alarm bleated its annoying ringtone five seconds later.

At least, that's what it felt like. Alyssa groaned as she turned it off and forced herself into a sitting position. She'd gotten a total of four hours of sleep, but her body seemed completely unconvinced of that fact. The shower helped some, but all morning she felt like she was slogging through molasses.

Some of that sluggishness was the loss of sleep, and some of it was having to admit there was no easy fix for whatever troubled Marco. So be it. But that didn't mean she wouldn't keep trying.

When she got to work at two thirty, she actually felt groggier for the hour catnap she'd snuck in. At least she'd found some new work clothes and didn't have to wear the same three pieces over and over again. This outfit in particular helped perk her up a little-the black skirt was short and flowy. Very cute. And the tight tank top had a low-scooped back that left her ponytail tickling her spine. And, of course, it all looked awesome with her Chucks. She felt fresh and summery and ready to tackle another busy shift-well, as ready as she could be on a half night's sleep.

Now all she needed was some food.

She dropped off her purse and made a beeline for the break room.

"Hey guys," she said as she entered, finding the usual cast of characters, minus Tommy.

Eric looked over his shoulder and his eyes went wide. His gaze was so direct she thought she'd spilled on her new shirt, so she glanced down at herself to be sure. Nope. She looked back up to find Marco with an odd gaze, too, except his was angry where Eric's was...who even knew. She dropped into a chair.

"How are ya?" Van finally asked.

She smiled up at him. "Good. Great now that you're feeding me." She winked at him as she reached for a plate. "Aw, man. You made ribs."