Looking none the worse for wear, Roane strolled out of the bathroom and returned a minute later with two glasses of water and Shadow on his heels. The huge dog came right up to me, towering over me as Roane handed me the glass of water and two pills.

“Take those and then I’ll make a quick breakfast before I leave for the farm.”

Seriously, why was he here? Had something happened last night between us?

Oh God. I hoped not. Not like that.

Not at all! I reminded myself.

“What time is it?” I asked, scratching Shadow behind the ear.

“Just before five in the morning.”

I nodded and took the pills, finishing the water in a few gulps.

While I did this, I watched Roane’s expression veer between amusement and concern.

There was no way I didn’t look like shit. Still in my clothes from last night, I studied my legs for any new bruises and was grateful to find none. Hopefully that meant I hadn’t done any falling down.

“Come on.” Roane held out his hand. “Let’s get some food in you.”

My stomach revolted at the idea. “Please no,” I begged, even though I took his hand.

He slowly helped me to my feet, and although there was nausea and dizziness, I seemed to have emptied all the contents of my stomach for now. “You have to eat something.”

Leading me by the hand, Roane brought me to the living area and sat me down on a stool at the kitchen counter. It was still dark outside, so the kitchen lights felt overly bright to my sore, hungover eyes.

“Why are you here?” I finally asked.

He glanced at me over his shoulder as he opened the refrigerator. “You were wasted last night. So drunk I was worried you might get sick in your sleep. I brought you home and stayed to watch over you.” He turned back to the refrigerator. “I must have fallen asleep too.”

Warmth spread through me. “That was a nice thing to do.”

“Aye, well.” Roane grinned as he pulled eggs out of the fridge. “I owe you.”

Somehow I thought it was something Roane would do for a friend even if that friend hadn’t saved his dog’s life. Watching him as he pottered around the kitchen making me a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast (which I did not want to eat), I realized I wasn’t embarrassed.

Shouldn’t I be mortified to have this gorgeous man witness me drunk and then throwing up the next morning? There was no way I didn’t have mascara streaks on my cheeks and that my pallor wasn’t deathly pale.

All of this should have made me self-conscious, uneasy. Especially since he was a stranger.

And yet, just like last night, I felt weirdly comfortable sitting in silence as he made breakfast while Shadow waited patiently at his feet for any scraps.