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The moment she slid beneath the covers, his warmth reached her.

Hemlock’s brow furrowed slightly as he shifted in beside her. Serious, but calm—like always. “I’ll stay right here,” he said gently, helping her settle against the pillows. “You’re safe here.”

And she believed him.

He didn’t rush her. He didn’t press. He just sat with her—his presence solid and grounding as the nightmare’s shadow slowly began to recede.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly. No pressure. Just the offer.

Charlie shook her head. She didn’t have the energy to drag the dream into the light. The woman with the knife still felt too real, like if she spoke it aloud, she might summon her all over again.

For now, she just needed the silence. The stillness Hemlock offered.

And that was enough.

Chapter Thirteen

Razor leaned back, enjoying the playful tension in the air as he continued to screw with Hemlock. He could see the younger brother’s eye twitch every time he mentioned Charlie being alone at Truck’s house. Hemlock was too sharp for his own good, Razor thought, always catching the subtle glances, the stray thoughts that Razor wasn’t even aware he was giving off. Like when Lottie caught his attention with that smile of hers. Hemlock had noticed it, of course, and had taken every chance to needle him about it.

In the beginning, Razor hadn’t meant to ruffle his feathers, but after the teasing started to get to the brother it tickled him. Normally Hemlock was Fort Knox when it came to his personal shit. Yet something about Charlie was tearing at those thick walls Hemlock had built around him.

And at that moment, watching Hemlock appear uncomfortable at the thought of the pretty brunette alone with their brother had Razor barely able to contain his grin.

“Truck’s probably making a move on that pretty brunette. After all it is Truck. And we know how he is with the ladies. He can’t help himself.”

Hemlock shot Razor a hard look. “Charlie and I aren’t an item. And if Truck was going to make a move on her, he’s had plenty of opportunities.” It sounded good to Hemlock. He and Charlie had been spending a lot of time at Truck’s. And Truck had been spending lots of time at the condo with them. Weeks they had all been hanging out. Still, he wondered.

“But you want to be an item,” Razor said in a sarcastic tone.

Hemlock couldn’t catch a break, if he wouldn’t feel bad or want the paycheck he was getting from working at the clinic, he’d walk out. “Razor, you and I know I suck at relationships. Why would I put myself in that kind of situation.”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid, but I know you’re thinking about Truck getting busy with Charlie.” If Razor had stopped ribbing Hemlock, he might have noticed how distracted the brother was beginning to be. Instead, he walked away leaving Hemlock to dwell over what he’d just told him.

Hemlock couldn’t help but get caught up in what Razor said. Would Truck make a move on Charlie knowing how he felt about the girl? Would Charlie entertain the idea of being with Truck? His thoughts were on an infinite loop as he thought about Truck and Charlie being together, alone, at the house.

When Razor walked into an exam room, Hemlock stepped away and pulled out his phone. He dialed Truck’s number first and got no answer. Hanging up, he tried Charlie and didn’t get an answer. Hemlock’s jaw tightened, and his eyes moved quickly to the screen, then to the door, thinking about leaving early asthe frustration of Truck not answering his phone threatened to choke him.

Razor could tell Hemlock was on edge by the way his fingers tapped on the phone’s screen. “Told you, those two are getting hot and sweaty with each other.”

Razor’s words were right in his ear. He’d been so deep in thought, he hadn’t heard him approach. “Shut up, Razor.” Shoving his phone into his pocket, Hemlock walked away. He had patients to see. Plus, Charlie wasn’t due to go over to Truck’s until later that evening.

After an entire day of dealing with Razor giving him a hard time about Charlie and Truck, Hemlock left the clinic heading straight for Truck’s house. By the time he threw his leg over his bike and revved the engine, the teasing and prodding from Razor had not only gotten under his skin—it was festering.

With the roar of the engine and concrete beneath him, he probably broke a few laws by the way he rode his bike through the city until he reached the outlying suburbs and opened the bike up. He rode as if on a mission. Then again, wasn’t he? Horns blared as he passed cars at high speeds.

When he pulled up to Truck’s, Hemlock saw Charlie was already there. In that moment, all the shit talking Razor had done at work came flooding in.

Shutting off his bike he climbed off, and tried shaking off the tension from Razor hounding him all day. Still, it nagged at him seeing that Charlie was already there. The knot in his stomach tightened. Quickening his pace, he made quick work of getting to the door. Stepping inside, he took one look at Truck standing in the kitchen next to Charlie in nothing but a pair of jeans. Thebrother was sweaty and seemed too at ease as he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest like he didn’t have a care in the world.

And Charlie.

Charlie was standing just a few feet away, smiling. She was leaning against the counter in a way that made Hemlock’s stomach twist. She wore nothing but a towel, her hair damp as if she’d just stepped out of the shower.

For a moment, Hemlock couldn’t breathe. His eyes darted between Charlie’s carefree smile and Truck’s oddly comfortable stance.

What the hell was going on? The sudden realization hit him like a punch to the gut: all the teasing from Razor about Charlie and Truck being alone.

Truck looked over when the door opened and smiled at Hemlock. “It’s about time you showed up.”