Dancers make the best eavesdroppers, because we're light on our feet. The three men in the living room don't even hear me coming down the hallway, especially over the noisy television. They're watching some survivalist reality show and nursing beers, frankly looking kind of uncomfortable with each other. Cain is lounged back in a leather easy chair, his two friends spaced out on the nearby couch.

My attention travels back to Cain and I have to cover my mouth so they won't hear my dreamy sigh. Holy moly. He gets more irresistible every time I see him. In the old white T-shirt he's wearing, I can finally see his tattoos....