When I get into the guest bedroom, Shane has just finished putting the new sheets on the bed. He’s shaking out the blanket, but he lays it down when he sees me. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

“So…” He rubs the scar on his forehead. “Did Josh say anything about me?”

I can’t tell him that Josh seemed happy at the idea he wouldn’t be staying long. “He liked you.”

It was the right thing to say. A smile stretches across Shane’s lips. “That’s awesome. You know, I was thinking, maybe until I get a job, I could be here when Josh gets home from school every day and keep an eye on him for you.”

“Oh…” I avert my eyes. “Well, the thing is, we already have somebody who is here every day. So…”

“But this would save you money. And I’d get to spend time with him.”

“Let me think about it,” I say, even though I won’t. There’s no way I’m getting rid of Margie, especially when Josh doesn’t seem that crazy about Shane. “Listen, there’s some clothing you could wear in the top drawer over there.”

Shane opens the top drawer of the dresser by the bed. He pulls out a men’s T-shirt, which I now realize has the word Syracuse on the front of it. It’s where Tim went to college, and from the look on Shane’s face, he knows it. “Is this Tim’s clothing?”

“Yes,” I admit. “It was in the house so…”

Shane drops the T-shirt in disgust. “Great.”

“I’m sorry.” It hits me now how inappropriate this was. It didn’t seem like a bad idea before though. I mean, it’s just clothes. “I’ll get you something else to wear tomorrow.”

He lets out a sigh and drops onto the edge of the bed. “No, it’s fine. I can’t be picky. And it’s all just clothes.”

“I washed it,” I say weakly.

He looks down at his lap. “It’s my fault you were even in this position. If I had protected you better from him that night…”

“You tried to warn me.”

“I did…” He raises his eyes. “It kills me that he’s been taking advantage of you since you came here. I’ll never forgive myself for letting it happen.”

I settle down beside him on the bed. “It wasn’t your fault. You were in prison. Anyway, it worked out in the end.” I gently place a hand on his. “I’m glad you’re out now.”

He chuckles. “Me too.”

He looks down at my hand on his, and then his eyes rake over me. The longing on his face is unmistakable. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The man has been in prison for a decade. He hasn’t even touched a woman in all that time.