Page 68 of Beautifully Broken Control

Cain’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “All right, but let me at least get you some juice first. It will get your blood sugar up.”

“Fine.”

He scowled at me. “That’s becoming my least favorite word, you know.” He headed for the door but paused, turning back to face me. “Why is my shoulder soaking wet?”

I pressed my lips together as tightly as possible to hold the laughter in. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

He looked over to the chair he’d slept in, his eyes narrowing on Chuck’s snoring form. “That damn dog has to have some sort of condition, it’s not natural to produce that much drool.”

I grinned up at Cain. “It just means he likes you.”

“Well, maybe he could like me a little less.”

* * *

“You really are an amazing cook,you know that?” I was cuddled under a million blankets on the couch as I licked a drop of cheese sauce off my finger. “I think that’s the best mac and cheese I’ve ever eaten.”

A flush crept up Cain’s neck. “I’m glad you liked it.”

I lifted the remote and pointed back at the television. “Ready for another episode?”

Cain groaned. “What is it with your obsession withMurder, She Wrote?”

My eyes narrowed in his direction. “Are you going to insult the magical and insane genius that is Angela Lansbury and a dreamy coastal town in Maine?”

“Maybe.” My eyes narrowed further, and he held up two hands. “Okay, okay. Angela Lansbury can do no wrong.” He stayed silent, studying me for a moment as I hit buttons on his fancy remote. “It’s just that it’s not a television show you think of women in their twenties connecting with.”

I paused my scrolling, tilting my head to face Cain. “When I was in fifth grade, I got pneumonia. I was out of school for six weeks and bored out of my mind. There was a station that had reruns ofMurder, She Wroteon all day long, and I got hooked.”

What I didn’t share was that as soon as my brother got home from school each day, he’d race to my room and climb in on the opposite side of my bed and watch with me. It didn’t matter what my mom threatened him with, he stayed with me as much as he could. He didn’t complain about what we were watching and always played along, trying to guess the killer with me. Mom would only stand in the doorway and ask if I needed anything, while she sent our housekeeper in with soup.

I swallowed down the memories. The sweet ones were that much more painful. Knowing I’d lost that, and I’d never get it back. But I hadthis, this unidentified pseudo-friendship with Cain. A friendship that included some handholding and lips on my forehead and the best mac and cheese I’d ever tasted. I wasn’t going to take that for granted.

“You look a little lost in thought.”

I brought myself back to the present moment, to Cain, and smiled. “Just thinking about how I’m lucky.”

The look that flashed across Cain’s face said he thought I was just a little crazy. “Lucky?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p.

“How so?”

I couldn’t give him everything, not my whole truth, but I could give him some of it. “That I have you in my life. Someone who will watchMurder, She Wrotewith me even though he hates it, ensures I don’t faint in the shower, and makes the best mac and cheese that has ever graced these lips.”

“Well, good.” There was a gruffness to Cain’s tone, as though my gratitude made him uncomfortable.

“You need to get used to people appreciating you. You’re a good man, Cain Hale, and you’re just going to have to put up with people telling you so.”

He turned his gaze back to the laptop in front of him. “Didn’t you want to watch more of your inspiration, Angela Lansbury?”

I hit play on an episode I’d seen at least three times before. “All right, I’ll let you off the hook.” I tried to focus on the show, but my gaze kept being pulled back to Cain. He was intensely focused on the screen. His fingers would fly across the keyboard for a minute or so and then freeze, his eyes tracking back and forth, taking in whatever it was he’d done.

I cleared my throat. “Are you making progress?”

Cain’s gaze flicked to me. “For the first time since I moved here, yes. I think I finally figured out the missing piece I needed.” As he said the words, an expression that was nothing less than child-like glee filled his face.

“That’s amazing. Must be the genius that is the murder-solving Angela Lansbury rubbing off on you.”

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