SHE was lost in thought as Brad drove her home, and stared up at the waxing moon. It seemed as if she could almost see it growing fuller and whiter, marking her time.

“I don’t know that I ever paid attention to the phases of the moon before. You just looked up, and it was full or a sliver or cut in half. I never thought to notice whether it was getting bigger or smaller. But now I don’t think I’ll ever not know. I’ll know just where the moon is in its cycle, without ever looking at the sky.

“I’ve got less than three weeks left.”

“You’ve got a chart, you’ve got a sketch. You’ve got a vision. You can’t put the puzzle together without the pieces. You’re gathering the pieces.”

“I’m counting on it. It helped, talking it through, but it’s all running around in my head now. And nothing will settle long enough for me to pick it apart again. I can’t bend words into answers the way Dana does, or draw out images into answers like Malory. I have to, I don’t know, get my hands around it, and work it into place. I don’t have anything to get my hands around yet. It’s frustrating.”

“Sometimes you have to walk away from the pieces. Then come back and walk around them, look at them from a different angle.”

He pulled into her drive. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“What?”

“You’re not staying here alone, without even Simon in the house in case something happens.” He got out, took her pot from the back of the car. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’ve got Moe,” she began as the dog jumped up to race to the door.

“Last time I checked, Moe couldn’t dial a phone or drive a car. You might need someone to do both.” He paused by the door, waiting for her to unlock it. “You’re not staying here alone. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“There isn’t—”

“Don’t argue.”

Jiggling her keys, she took a good, hard look at him. “Maybe I like to argue.”

“There wouldn’t be any point in it, but if that’s what you want to do, let’s do it inside. It’s dark, it’s getting cold, and Moe’s becoming a little too interested in what’s left in this pot.”

She opened the door and headed straight to the kitchen. “Just set that down. I’ll take care of it.” She got out one of the storage containers she used for leftovers, then shrugged out of her coat, tossed it over a kitchen chair. “It may not have occurred to you that I let Simon spend the night with a friend because I wanted some time alone.”

“It occurred to me. I’ll stay out of your way.” He took off his own coat, then picked up hers. “I’ll go hang these up.”

Saying nothing, she began transferring leftover chili to the container.

He meant it for the best, she knew. And it wasn’t as if she minded having a strong, capable man in the house. She simply wasn’t used to having a strong, capable man in the house. Especially one who told her what was going to be done.

That was part of the problem, she considered, sealing the container. She’d been piloting her own ship for so long that having anyone take the wheel, however well intentioned, put her back up.

If that was a flaw in her character, she was entitled to a few flaws.

Part of the problem, she thought again as she took the pot to the sink to wash it. The other part, and the bigger chunk of the problem, was having a man she was attracted to in the house when there was no nine-year-old buffer between them.

And that, she realized, setting the pot to drain, was just dead stupid.

She went into the living room. He was sitting in a chair, paging through one of her magazines. Moe, having given up hope of chili, was sprawled over his feet.

“If you want reading material,” she began, “I can do better than a magazine on hairstyles.”

“It’s okay. Great-looking models. Can I ask you a couple of questions? The first has to do with the availability of a blanket and pillow.”

“I happen to have those items in stock.”

“Good. The other, brought to mind by this redhead with the eyebrow ring is . . . just how do I put this?”

“You’re interested in an eyebrow ring?”

“No. No, I’m not. But it happens that some time ago, I noticed . . . you were wearing these jeans that rode a little low and this shirt that rode a little high, so I couldn’t help but notice you had this silver bar—that you had your navel pierced.”

She cocked her head. “That’s right.”

“I wondered if you always wear it.”

She kept her expression very sober, very serious. “Sometimes I wear this little silver hoop instead.”

“Uh-huh.” Unable to help it, he glanced at her belly, imagined. “Interesting.”

“Before I came to the Valley, I worked a second job at a body-piercing and tattoo parlor. I was putting away all I could for a down payment on a house. As an employee, it was free, plus it helped in dealing with customers if you’d gone through it yourself. And no,” she added, reading his thoughts, “the only body parts I was willing to have pierced were my belly button and my earlobes. Do you want something to drink? A snack?”

“No, I’m fine.” Unless he counted the saliva that wanted to pool in the back of his mouth. “Tattoos? Did you get one?”

She smiled now, friendly as a Sunday school teacher. “I did. Just a little one.”

She knew he was wondering what, and more, where. She would just let him wonder for now. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Bradley.” She watched his eyes narrow and focus on her face, and even from three feet away, felt his body tense. “There’s no need for that when there’s just the two of us here.” She waited one long beat. “You can use Simon’s bed.”

“Simon’s bed.” He repeated it, as if speaking a foreign language. “Yeah. Right. Good.”

“Why don’t you come on upstairs, and I’ll show you where everything is?”

“Sure.” He set the magazine aside, gave Moe a nudge to roll him over and off his feet.

“There are plenty of clean towels in the bathroom closet,” she began, enjoying herself as she started upstairs. “And I’ve got an extra toothbrush in there that you can use.”