"Considering what he looks like underneath his shirt, I'd say a baby elephant's worth of weight."

Joey paused in reaching for his wine. "You saw him without a shirt?"

"I'm still seeing him without a shirt every time I close my eyes." With a forlorn sigh, she sent another card toward the hat, then rested her head against his shoulder when the card sailed to the left. "It's not fair that such a hot guy can be such an epic d.i.c.k."

"I dunno. He seemed cool to me," Novak offered after he and Joey exchanged glances. "I mean, he only left your side to change his clothes and pick up some stuff, because he knew you were safe with us."

"And he missed work today so he could keep an eye on you," Joey added, tossing another card. "That doesn't seem like d.i.c.k behavior to me."

"How's this for d.i.c.k behavior? While I was at work yesterday, he went into the break room, found the food I'd brought for my meals, and threw it all away."

Novak slammed to his feet, instantly springing into his patented Hulk-smash mode. "He what?"

"He replaced it with stuff he thought would be healthier for me," she hastened to add, and relaxed when she saw his fists unclench. "But that's the problem-he obviously thinks I'm a moron, because he's always trying to do my thinking for me. Last winter he yelled at me in front of the entire lobby because I was wearing flip-flops instead of 'proper winter shoes,' whatever the h.e.l.l those are. He checks my clientele list to make sure they have his so-called approval. He thinks it's up to him to decide what I should and shouldn't eat." She shook her head in pure frustration. "The list goes on and on. He's constantly overstepping his bounds, and then he refuses to acknowledge he's done anything wrong. This is total d.i.c.k behavior."

To her surprise, silence greeted this announcement rather than wholehearted agreement. Usually her best friends had her back, but as she studied them she saw the two men looking at each other in silent communication, before Joey shifted against her. "For the most part, men are simple creatures, sweetheart, and this is what usually trips women up. See, women are much more complex, so naturally they a.s.sume that men are the same way."

She blinked. "Well... yeah. I mean, aren't you?"

Joey rolled his eyes while Novak laughed and swigged his beer. "I can answer that in two words-h.e.l.l, no. A woman will look at a dude's behavior and see all these crazy-a.s.s layers and motives behind every action, when in fact the dude's acting in the most basic way imaginable. Usually he's just p.i.s.sing in corners and protecting his territory."

"His territory?" Angel frowned. That didn't sound good. "That may be, but that doesn't apply in this case."

"Yeah, it does, babe. Especially in this case."

She shook her head. "But that doesn't make sense. I've never once gone into Twist's work area, or territory, and I've never talked to any of his clients out of fear that he might think I was trying to poach them. I don't even know where he lives. Twist is the one who's always barging into my booth and going through my stuff like he thinks he has every right to do so. If anyone should feel like their territory is being threatened, it's me, not him."

"Territory doesn't have to be a place, Ange," Novak corrected, shaking his head. "In fact, most of the time it has nothing to do with a place. Territorial behavior has everything to do with what you see as yours, including people. Especially people, now that I think about it."

"Twist is possessive of you," Joey explained unnecessarily, because Novak's words had already hit her like a Mack truck. "I noticed that right off when he pulled you away from me. He didn't know who I was and he sure as h.e.l.l didn't like me hugging you. I was another man who was touching what he considers his, and he wasn't going to put up with that."

"But that's... that's nuts," she sputtered, flabbergasted. "I've never given him any indication that I can even tolerate him, much less..." She flailed an expressive hand. "Anything else."

"Doesn't matter, babe." Novak waved this away with his now-empty beer bottle. "Whether you're on board or not is irrelevant when a man is determined to mark his territory. It's an instinctive, deep in your gut kind of thing. You see something that resonates within you, something that makes your inner Neanderthal go 'mine, mine, mine!' whenever you're near it, and that's it. Game over. It's yours, no matter how irrational it is."

"He's not a complete caveman, so don't get too freaked out," Joey added while Angel stared at them in something like horror. "You've worked together for years now without being crowded by him, right? And this is the first time we've seen him around, so it's obvious he's got himself under control."

"I don't know about that," she muttered, not sure why her heart was beating the c.r.a.p out of her, but the sensation was too effervescent to be labeled as fear or upset. If she didn't know better, she would have thought it was... exhilaration. "He's been increasingly impossible to deal with. That's why I've decided I'm done at House Of Payne. He's made it almost impossible to work there and stay sane. I never know what he's going to do next."

"Sounds like Twist is all you think about, which is probably cool with him." Novak shrugged and reached for the TV remote, his attention on the screen as he switched to a sports channel. "And I call bulls.h.i.t on you quitting the House."

"What? Why?"

"It's a part of you, Ange, and I can't see you chucking a part of yourself out the window. Not for Twist, not for anyone who's p.i.s.sing you off. Not for anyone, period. The House is your house, and no one can push you out of there."

"Any second now he's going to want to chest-b.u.mp you, so look out." Joey threw his last card into the hat, then turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. "He's right, though. If you want to leave your job because it's no longer fulfilling to you artistically, or there are better opportunities for you elsewhere, then I can understand your need to go. But you'd only be hurting yourself if you allow someone to force you out... especially when that person doesn't want you to leave, and you don't want to go."

As far as she was concerned, the jury was still out on whether or not Twist wanted her out, considering he made life miserable. But one thing was certain-deep down she still felt House Of Payne was her true home. "I'm also being shut out of the concierge service, supposedly because I'm too frail to go into peoples' houses by myself, or whatever. Apparently Payne believes all my clients are going to turn into wild-eyed rapists and murderers the moment I step into their homes." When they didn't immediately respond, she looked up to find them again exchanging glances and it instantly brought her hackles up. "Okay, what the h.e.l.l is it about me? Do I really look that incompetent?"

"Incompetency has nothing to do with it." Joey put his arm around her when she would have pushed to her feet. "You're as professional as they come-you wouldn't have lasted at the House for as long as you have if you weren't. It has everything to do with how you look, and who you are."

She huffed angrily. "What's wrong with how I look?"

"There's nothing wrong with how you look," Novak said, eyes on the TV screen. "I'm a big fan of how you look. We both are. You're so cute and cuddly and lickolicious in an innocent kind of way. When I first met you, I think one of the first things I asked you was if you should be out on your own without some kind of adult supervision."

"I thought you were kidding."

"Nope. Not even remotely."

"I'll never forget the first time I met you," Joey added. "You were out at the pool, carefully applying sunscreen over your tats, and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking if your parents had to give approval for all the ink you had. Then you did something that made my teeth almost fall out of my head."

"I did?" She searched her memory and came up blank for anything unusual. "What did I do?"

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "You asked me, a total stranger, if I would mind putting sunscreen on your back. You didn't even know my name, sweetheart, yet you invited a stranger to touch you in an intimate way."

"But I'd already seen you around the complex with Novak, and I knew who you were even though we hadn't been formally introduced. I knew you didn't have a thing for women."

Novak snorted. "Yeah, no."

"I'm actually bi," Joey said gently, stunning her. "We both are. Novak and I are in a committed relationship and totally devoted to each other, yes. I love him and he loves me-we are each other's choice. But that doesn't mean we haven't given you a good, long look."

Holy freaking c.r.a.p.

"If I thought you were the kind of girl who'd go for a threesome, you'd have figured out long ago that we both have no problem getting hot for chicks," Novak added, adjusting the TV's volume while she goggled at him. "But you're such a sweet little thing, I just couldn't do it. Now you've become more like a sister to us and we love you without reservation. But that's because we're good guys. The good guys of the world naturally have this reaction to you-the protective, guard-the-innocent-hottie reaction. And good guys do whatever they can to make sure innocent hotties aren't despoiled by all the bad guys of the world."

"Wow," she said faintly, while the world as she knew it stood on its head and mooned her. "You used the word despoiled. And you're bi."

"And you're completely missing the point," Joey said, his smile gentle while Novak snorted again. "Good guys automatically want to protect you, which is probably why your employer doesn't want you going into the homes of people he doesn't know. He probably feels the same way we do-that for every good guy out there who instinctively wants to protect you, there's a bad guy who's driven by a deep-seated instinct to ruin you."

"That's why I think I like this Twist dude," Novak announced, surprising her. "He looks out for you, protects you, even tries to get you to eat right and wear the right shoes. He's one of the good guys. You just need to open up your eyes and see him for what he is."

Chapter Seven.

Once Twist dropped off a packed duffle and a pot of his mother's famous rice pudding at Angel's, he headed next door. He didn't even get to the front stoop when the door suddenly opened and Novak stepped out, a finger to his lips.

"Angel conked out about twenty minutes ago," he said by way of greeting, his voice pitched low despite the fact that they were outside in the cool September night air. "We tried to get her to eat another helping of the penne pasta, but she just scrunched up her nose and buried her head in a pillow. I swear, she's the pickiest d.a.m.n eater I've ever known. It's like she's got the taste buds of a f.u.c.kin' five year old."

"Tell me about it." Twist tucked her keys into his jeans pocket, all the while taking the other man's measure. Novak was lean and cut, with an air of barely leashed energy crackling around him like a storm even when he stood perfectly still. If he hadn't seen him with Joey, he would have had a serious problem with a guy like Novak living right next door to Angel. "She okay otherwise? Any headaches? Dizzy spells? Nausea? Any other kind of weird s.h.i.t?"

"Nah. Just her usual, head-in-the-clouds Angel-ness."

That had Twist cracking a smile. "Perfect way of putting it."

"I was kind of hoping that motherf.u.c.ker who attacked her might've knocked some real-world sense into her cute little noggin. But I think it's too soon to tell at this point if this episode's convinced her that not everyone on the planet is a pure-hearted descendant of Glinda the Good Witch."

Twist's smile widened. Thank G.o.d her neighbors recognized that alarming naivete in Angel's otherwise outstanding makeup. While he admired her optimism that made her see only the best in people, there had to be some kind of a limit. "It'd be great if we could somehow convince her that not everyone's harmless without her suffering a loss of consciousness and a trip to the hospital."

"No s.h.i.t, man. I can't tell you how glad I am that you had her back," Novak added, leading the way into his place. "Joey and I really love her. Like, deeply, madly, truly-and we have for years. Know what I mean?"

There was something in the other man's tone that made Twist pause, and his smile did a quick fade as he regarded the other man with narrowed eyes. "Not sure I do."

"Heh. Trust me, you do." Novak chuckled as if he found him amusing, but Twist didn't see the humor of the moment. "Our little Angel is definitely a one-man woman, and that's cool with us. She's delicate, you know? And more traditionally minded than you might think, considering she doesn't exactly look the part of Suzy Homemaker. That means she's looking for that one guy and one guy only, who's going to woo her in the traditional way, and sweep her off her feet."

Twist's jaw locked. Who the h.e.l.l was this guy to tell him what he already knew about Angel? Her artwork showed what a romantic soul she was; in almost everything she created, he could see she believed in magic and true love. She believed in princes sweeping their princesses off their feet. She believed in happily-ever-after. He knew that, just as clearly as he knew an ex-con could never be a prince. And a prince was what dreamy-eyed Angel deserved.

But the last thing he needed was to hear that from this guy.

"That's interesting," he said, eyeing Novak in a way that let the other man know he'd just landed on dangerous ground. "You seem to think you know a lot about Angel."

"I do. Or at least I know how to work my way around her without p.i.s.sing her off so bad she can't stand to be around me." Novak looked back over his shoulder as he opened the front door. "Maybe I should give you some lessons on that score?"

"f.u.c.k off."

Novak chuckled again. "I just want my beautiful Angel to be happy, dude. That's all I'm saying."

"And all I'm saying is, she's not yours."

"She's not yours yet, either. Not by a f.u.c.kin' mile. That's not on me, or Joey, and it's certainly not on Angel. That sad state of affairs is totally on you."

Twist wisely kept his silence as he followed Novak into the condo, his grinding irritation dissolving when his gaze fell on Angel. She was curled up in her usual tight ball, her long mermaid's hair spilling over the pillow under her cheek. The sight of her hands tucked under her chin made something tighten painfully in his chest, and without glancing at Joey, who'd come in from the kitchen to nod a greeting his way, he bent down and scooped her up.

"It's fine if she sleeps here tonight," Joey began, and Twist glanced back to find the blond haired man looking like a storm cloud at having Angel disturbed. Too f.u.c.king bad, Twist thought, heading for the door while Angel stirred sleepily in his arms. No way in h.e.l.l was she spending the night with them when he was right there. They couldn't be trusted with her, but he could.

Sort of.

"Door," he said, looking at Novak. In response, Angel's neighbor shot him a sharp grin and opened it with a flourish.

"Don't get lost now."

a.s.shole, Twist thought, moving without pause through the night and into Angel's condo that he'd left open. He paused just long enough to kick the door shut, in case her neighbors wanted to follow behind him so they could continue to display their prowess at being pains in his a.s.s. He hit the nearest light switch with his elbow, then headed toward the master bedroom while soft light bloomed overhead in the living room.

"Mm." Angel's eyes opened and she looked around in confusion as he set her down by the bed she'd made up before they'd left, the light coming in through the open door washing over her face. "Uh-oh. Did the guys kick me out?"

"Yeah. They said you're a terrible guest because you fell asleep on them." He smiled when she blinked and then, because she was so d.a.m.n cute, he cupped her jaw and kissed her. He didn't really think the gesture through. It was just an impulse that seemed right for the moment. But when her lips clung to his with a sweet, welcoming pressure, it drained his brain and filled his world. It was the kind of kiss that welcomed a man home after he'd been away at war. The kind of kiss knights received from grateful damsels in distress. The kind of kiss that made a person realize there were some things in the world worth fighting for and dying for.

This was Angel's kiss.

When he finally raised his head, he watched her eyes slowly open. The languorous heat that sparkled there tightened his lower gut with achy, desperate need, and in that moment he was positive he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

"You're a good kisser," she whispered, as if imparting a deeply personal secret. "I mean, crazy-good. As in, you should come with a warning label kind of good."

He smiled before leaning in to press his mouth to her brow. G.o.d, she made him crazy when she was cute. "I can't tell if that's you talking, or your concussion."

"Even I don't know the answer to that one."

"That's what I figured." He let his lips linger on her brow before he slid his hands slowly down her narrow back to rest on her hips. "d.a.m.n, but you feel like mine."

"Hmm?" She leaned into him, her voice sleepy.

"Nothing." Since she fit so d.a.m.n well tucked right there under his chin, he didn't see any reason why he shouldn't hold her closer. "You kiss like you should come with a warning label too. And I don't have a concussion, so you know I mean every d.a.m.n word I'm saying."

A little sound escaped her, something between a gasp and a laugh. "And what would my warning label say?"

"Warning-this woman's kiss causes instant addiction and may trigger swelling in certain body parts. Handle with care."

Her huff of laughter feathered along his neck as she tucked her face there. "Wow. Don't I sound dangerous."

"Oh my G.o.d, you are. The most dangerous woman I've ever met... at least when you have a concussion." Drinking in her warmth for a moment longer, he took a step back before nudging her in the direction of the bathroom. "Go on and get ready for bed, little girl. If you're really good, I'll let you have some of my mother's world-famous rice pudding. It's a guaranteed cure for anything and everything that ails you."

Brilliant morning sunshine streamed past the shutters, pulling Angel slowly up through layers of sleep. Warm and drifting toward full wakefulness, she listened to the sound of birds greeting the morning with cheerful chirping beyond the windows. For the first time in a long time she felt thoroughly rested, as if she'd been rejuvenated all the way down to her bones, and she sighed as that sense of wellbeing sank into every corner of her soul.

Solid warmth shifted at her back, and the weight of an arm draped around her waist tightened. There, she thought. Right there was the reason why she felt so rested, as much as it galled her to admit it. It was now an inescapable fact that Twist was an unsurpa.s.sed master at spoiling her. And...

She loved it.

G.o.d, that was so nuts. Maybe it was a side effect of her concussion.

No, she corrected, irked at how she tried to dodge her softening att.i.tude toward Twist. That was spineless behavior and she hated that kind of thing ever since her father had taught her-through his own terrible behavior-the value of taking responsibility for one's actions. The fact was, any woman would appreciate a man who doted on her the way Twist doted on her. h.e.l.l, he'd even shown up with the surprise of his mother's homemade rice pudding, something he'd had his mother make just for her. Until last night, Angel had never been a fan of the stuff, but then she'd never had the real thing, apparently. She wouldn't rest until she knew how to make the vanilla bean-infused custardy goodness that Twist insisted would cure her completely. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was asking him to tell his mother that if anything could magically cure a concussion, her rice pudding had to be it.

She'd gone to sleep trying not to think that his continued sweetness was just as delicious.

That had her so confused she didn't know which way was up anymore.

Or even if they were still enemies.

At some point in the middle of the night she had awakened to find she was once again held against the hard wall of Twist's chest, this time with only the thin sheet under the comforter separating them. Like the night before, the sensation of being held so intimately by the bane of her existence unsettled her. Unlike the night before, however, it unsettled her in a completely different way. Her heart thudded so freaking hard against her ribs she was sure it would wake him. But as the seconds ticked by and his deep, quiet breathing lulled her, she found herself relaxing-and yes, even enjoying-the solid warmth his body provided. He was better than any electric blanket she'd ever had. Blankets sure as h.e.l.l didn't do the kind of cuddle job that Twist obviously could, and since she was a fan of cuddling, it wasn't a bad deal for her.

Until Twist, she hadn't known she liked cuddling. Neither of the two official boyfriends she'd had in her life had been cuddlers, or very touchy-feely at all except with it came to s.e.x. In her senior year, she'd gone with a boy for nearly four months before she realized it was only for the wham-bam, and once he was done, he was done.

Not exactly the most fulfilling relationship she'd ever known.

Her second long-term relationship had only been last year, but hadn't lasted much longer than her high school romance. He's been hot in a heavy-metal band kind of way, with a lean body, long hair and soul patch that she thought was cute. But she'd gotten so tired of his constant requests for free tattoos that it got to the point that she wanted to stuff a pillow into his mouth every single time he opened it.

Again, not what anyone would call a romance for the ages.

As crazy as it seemed, cuddling with Twist was proving to be more fulfilling than those two relationships combined. That fact led to the serious conundrum of whether or not they were still enemies. Instead of lying awake in the middle of the night trying to figure it all out, however, she'd simply wallowed in the sensation of being held in his strong arms and drifted off once more.

Maybe that was the answer right there. She'd been able to sleep in the arms of her enemy because part of her-a big part-no longer saw him as one.

She had no idea what the h.e.l.l to do with that.

"Did you know that you're terrible at playing possum? A blind man could tell the difference between the sleeping you and the awake you."