“Maybe she could come home with me.” It was a whisper. A revelation. An oh-my-God moment when she realized something life-changing had just clicked. She cleared the cobwebs from her voice and narrowed her eyes, willing him to understand how strongly she felt. “I want her to come home with me.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of paperwork and time commitment you’re talking about? The red tape alone—”

“You’re an ass. For a second, I thought you weren’t a cold heartless bastard.” A harsh laugh bubbled from deep within her chest, catching her off guard and reiterating her feelings. This would happen, with or without the great Jared Westin. “I need your help. I don’t ask for help. Ever. Here’s me, doing a first. Help.”

“Sugar—”

“Jared. You’re talking about an orphaned kid as though she was a package to be declared at customs. She’s going to go to an Afghani orphanage. You get that? You know what that’s like out here? Hundreds of kids, waiting for a lotto ticket. It never happens. So fuck you. She’s coming home with me. You’re the goddamn doer and fixer of everything. Master of the fuckin’ universe. Fix this. Figure it out.”

She slapped the table, and her hands stung. She hadn’t realized that tears brimmed and were sliding down her cheeks. Needy and helpless, she was showing Jared… herself, not the façade she presented to the world. On display, she was vulnerable and wanting something she didn’t know how to get. Asal, not Jared. Maybe both. “Screw this. I have to go.”

Sugar had been a burden as a child, and it was awful. To feel unwanted… she shook her head, needing to escape from her thoughts, but she couldn’t. An unwanted child in an unwanted marriage was hard enough in working class America. But to be an unwanted kid in a third world orphanage? Hell no. Not going to happen. Her mind catapulted through everything her mother and father had made her feel. Abandoned. Obnoxious. Useless. She could do better than they had. She could provide Asal something much better than an orphanage.

She shoved herself away from the table, not noticing Jared standing over her, and slammed into a brick wall of warm muscle. She wondered how long ago she had slipped into her memory daze.

He wrapped his arms around her and petted the back of her head. He was hugging her. Hugging. It made the tears fall faster, and she buried her face in his embrace.

“It’s okay. You’re fine,” he soothed. The deep timbre of his voice didn’t sound like the mechanical lines Titan recited to rescued victims. It sounded heartfelt. A new swell of tears fell.

“It’s not.” She sniffled. “Nothing’s all right. Everything I want is just out of my reach.”

He pulled back. How appropriate.

Then he palmed her hand, rubbing his other hand over her knuckles. “Sugar, we’ll get it figured out. Let me grab you some clothes, and you can take my bed. Catch some z’s, and it’ll be okay.”