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His faded jeans encased his ass and hips too well for my wandering eyes, but they were covered in rips and dirt, and who knew what those black stains were? The sleeves had been torn off his button-down shirt, and it looked like a rat had nibbled through the collar. Somehow, the homeless look made him even more tempting.

I glanced at the floor, feeling like a thoughtless, fickle bitch after the breathless moment I’d just shared with Roark. They made it hard to not be attracted to them. Impossible to not entertain fantasies. But it wasn’t their fault. I needed to spend less time ogling them and more time considering their feelings.

Jesse turned his head, drawing my eyes back to him, and gave me a head-to-toe once-over. “Sleep well?”

I nodded. “When was the last time you slept?”

His gaze darted back to the front room of the two-room house. A stained couch, recliner with tattered arms, and small kitchen table with mismatched folding chairs lined one wall of the living and kitchen area. The windows were barred and closed, so the musty scent of damp dirt must’ve been seeping from the carpet.

He glanced back at me, ignoring my question. “Shea’s in the bedroom.”

He pointed at a door in the back, which was half-open, revealing a bed piled with clothes.

The house didn’t look lived in. Spider webs and dust clung to everything, and I tried not to stir it up as I entered the front room, the linoleum-covered subfloor creaking with each step. Evidently, Shea’s husband had chosen to stay with her in the animal clinic over the comfort of his home.

“I’m taking over your watch rotation tonight,” Roark said to Jesse, his trailing footfalls turning the creaky floor into loud groans of wood.

I looked over my shoulder to catch Jesse’s expression.

He emanated casualness, leaning against the door frame, bow strapped to his back and arms crossed over his chest. But the way he watched me was anything but casual.

He lifted a hand to chew on the edge of his thumb, eyes locked on mine. “Someone needs to sleep with Evie.”

It bothered me that he wouldn’t volunteer for the job, but I understood. Kind of.

“Some of my nightmares can be enlightening.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should let them in, you know, to see what the Drone is up to.” The idea made the hairs on my arms stand on end, but I suggested it because… “Maybe Michio could reach me the same way?”

“No.” Jesse straightened, his tired eyes awakening with ferocity. “End of conversation.”

An argument for another time then. I held Jesse’s gaze. “Sounds like you’re snuggling with me tonight.”

I turned away to avoid what I assumed was a deeply-lined scowl. Roark patted my ass as he passed, and I followed his floor-groaning strides to the bedroom door.

“Shea?” I knocked and waited as her soft footsteps grew closer.

The door opened all the way, and the sight of her healthy smile pulled my mouth into a relieved grin.

She was at least five years younger than me, barely thirty, with a broad forehead, wide mouth, slender nose, and huge brown eyes. Her long, black hair frizzed a bit at the edges, but holy hell, she looked nothing like the nymph I’d found a week ago.

I shrugged off the carbine and set it by the door. “You look amazing. Even better than yesterday.”

“Oh, shut up.” She waved my words away and strode to the bed full of clothes. “I look like I crawled out of a half-eaten carcass.”

“Load of bollix.” Roark lounged across the messy bed, his bare chest rippling with the movement, and tucked an arm behind his head. “If ye keep walking around in those hot pants, every lad in Georgia will be knocking down the door to rasher the arse off ye.” He grinned. “I can't fecking concentrate."

Shea’s jaw dropped as she shared a look with me. Then she burst out in laughter. “You keep saying he’s a priest, but girl, I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I know, right?”

Strange how, if he’d flirted with Elaine like this, my hackles would’ve been all sorts of unhappy. And though Shea flirted back, it was neither sneaky nor serious. Something about her genuine smile and confident nature put me at ease.

“And that accent.” She picked through a pile of clothes, her dark skin glowing against her tight, white shorts. She was absolutely beautiful, her eyes warm and soft like molasses as they roamed Roark’s muscular chest. “Say something else.”

His fingers tapped the sword’s hilt where it lay at his hip. “Eh, now ye got me ripping me knickers and scundered for a hundred.”

She rolled her full lips between her teeth then glanced at me. “What did he say?”

“I have no idea.” I sat on the edge of the bed beside him, biting back a smile. “I don’t speak potato head.”