“No.” No way in hell. He looked at Kenny. “I’ll take her.” Once again he crouched in front of her. This time when he took her hand in his, he was alarmed to find it cold as ice. Her entire body was trembling now. Delayed shock. “Red?”

Her eyes were huge in her face. “Do you think I left a candle burning?” She fisted her hand in his shirt. “Oh my God, is that what started the fire?”

“Shh, not now. Come on.”

“I did this.”

“Baby, come on. I’m taking you home.”

She lifted her head and leveled him with those sea green crystal clear eyes, red rimmed and tortured by the smoke. He pulled her up, tucked her against his side, figuring it a bad, bad sign that she didn’t resist.

At his car, she stopped. “You said I could drive next time.”

“One more next time.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, her voice craggy.

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to think about it.

“You coming inside tonight, Joe?”

He stared down at her bent head, her hair in his nose and so full of smoke he nearly choked. Try to resist this one, Walker. “Yeah, I’m coming inside tonight.”

She set her head on his shoulder, and didn’t open her eyes as he walked her around the car. She didn’t move anything more than her feet, as if doing so was too much of an effort for her poor, exhausted body. “You called me baby,” she whispered. “Before.”

“Did not.”

She let out a ghost of a smile. “Know what I think? I think I still have a shot at getting your friendship back.”

“Is that what you want? Friendship?”

“Well friendship with benefits would be nice. But after having to beg all of my family to like me for the past three weeks, I can’t handle another rejection, so you’re safe.”

Is that what she thought? That she had to beg him to like her? Couldn’t she see the truth all over his face every time he so much as looked at her? “Red—”

“Did you throw out the chips I brought you?”

“No. I ate them. Every last one. And then bought more. I’ve had to run an extra mile every day since, damn it.”

She laughed, then winced, clutching her throat.

“Don’t. Don’t talk. Don’t do anything.” He got her in the car. Eyes closed, face pale and filthy, her lips curved into a wry smile as he pulled the seat belt across her hips and fastened it for her.

“You’re good at that,” she said.

He took an inappropriate second to sweep the hair out of her eyes. And then another to take a gentle swipe with his thumb over her filthy cheek. And then one more to just look at her. Christ, he was bad off. “What am I good at?”