Cole didn’t know how long he’d been out when he was roused from his sleep. All he knew was that he’d been pulled from the deep, black abyss of fatigue to bright sunshine by a series of little stabs to his chest. Murky visions of the woman from last night—in her underwear, wielding pliers—came to mind, and his eyes flew open.

It was okay, though. He was not being pinched to death. He was, however, face to face with a medium-sized, scaly creature sitting on his chest, whose beady little eyeballs constantly rolled around in their sockets. There was no room for logical thought in his sleep-addled brain, just primordial action. He let out a surprised yelp and cursed loudly.

“Holy fuck!”

The critter startled, and Cole displaced it as he sat bolt upright, his hip twinging at the sudden movement. When a blond head popped up unexpectedly near his elbow, he let out another surprised cry, rearing away from the edge and cursing for the second time. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

The child regarded him curiously. “Mommy says you’re not supposed to cuss.”

In the distance, Cole could hear a rather panicked-sounding “Finnnnnn?”

The little boy shook his head solemnly at Cole as he scooped up what appeared to be a multi-hued chameleon from the neat pile of his folded clothes, which had been placed on the coverlet at the foot of the bed. “Now you’re in trouble.”

Before he could wrap his head around the rapid sequence of events, the woman from last night—or the night before; who knew how long he’d been asleep—came crashing through the door. Her hair was in a ponytail this time, and she was wearing a lot more clothes—a pair of denim shorts that cut off just above her knees and a T-shirt that had a picture of a screwdriver with This is not a drill emblazoned beneath.

His lips twitched. Hell, so did his dick. Maybe it hadn’t ditched in the Pacific after all.

“Finn,” she said, her voice stern, her face screwed into a scowl. “I told you not to come in here.”

Finn pointed at Cole. “He said the f-word. Two times.”

Cole blinked as the kid threw him under the bus and the mom turned her scowl on him. “What?” he demanded. “I woke to a wild animal an inch from my face.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “It’s a chameleon, not a grizzly bear.”

“It startled me.”

Christ, he sounded whiney. He got mauled by grown men for a living, for crying out loud. Or he had, anyway… Cole glanced at the pretty creature lounging along Finn’s forearm, regarding him lazily. It sported a vibrant blue, red, and yellow pattern and looked as exotic and harmless as a butterfly.