Reese lifted his brows. “You don’t look like a doctor to me.”

“Fighter.” Cannon shrugged. “We see our fair share of serious injuries.”

All three men paused. Rowdy was the first to speak. “Professional?”

“I’m working on it.” Cannon pulled off his stocking cap, ran a hand over his black hair then tugged it on again. “But I don’t yet make enough to get by.”

“Which is why you came here?” Even with the blood loss, it started to click for Rowdy. “You’re looking for a job?”

“If you’re hiring.”

Perfect timing. Rowdy turned to Logan and stopped him before he made the call. “Don’t do it, Logan.”

“Sorry, but you have to trust me on this one.” Logan finished pushing in a number. “You know me. Would I abandon a kid?”

There were all kinds of abandonment.

The door opened and Avery strode out. Her stern expression held a wealth of emotion, and even more resolve. As if she knew Rowdy’s most immediate concerns, she said, “Ella has Marcus. He’s worried, way too silent, but now that we got him started, he’s eating like there’s no tomorrow.” She had a couple of fresh dish towels in her hand, and one of the new black aprons.

Rowdy tried to catch her gaze, but she stepped behind him. He twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “You saw?”

“Watched most of it through the window. Thank God I’d already called Logan before things got out of hand.” She tsked at the sight of his back.

Not exactly the hysterics he’d expected.

“I’ll take Rowdy to the hospital,” she announced.

“On the bus?” Rowdy asked, just because he felt that snarky.

She shouldered Reese away and gently placed the clean cloths against his wound. “I have my car with me.” Using the long apron strings, she tied the cloths in place to stop the bleeding.

“You have a car?” He bit off a grunt of pain when she tightened the makeshift bandage around him.

“Sorry.”

“Pepper would have my head.” With his call complete, Logan closed the phone and put it away. “Reese can stay here with the kid to wait for the social worker and to make sure no more trouble shows up. I’ll drive you to the hospital, but Avery can come along if she wants.”

“Damn, you’re bossy in cop mode.” Rowdy frowned at Avery. “And in case you’ve forgotten, you have a job—”

She cut him off. “I am going with you, Rowdy Yates, and that’s that!”

Okay, he heard the near hysteria that time. So she’d only been holding it together for him? Considerate.

Now what to do? He eyed Cannon. “You know anything about working in a bar?”

“My dad used to own one.”

Perfect. “Think you can start right now?”

“Let me check my calendar....” He held out his empty hands and grinned. “You’re in luck. I’m free.”

“Good. You’re hired.” Next he narrowed his eyes at Reese. “Sorry, man, but you have to play bartender for me. I don’t close for another two hours.”

Reese, the big lug, lit up with excitement. “Go get stitches or whatever.” He took off his coat and started rolling up his sleeves. “I’ve got it covered.”

* * *

AVERY WANTED TO coddle Rowdy so badly. She wanted to stroke his head and hug him and somehow make his life different.

Instead she sat in silence beside him in the backseat while Logan drove—with Rowdy holding her hand as if to offer comfort.

Such an amazing man.

Darrell had downed four whiskeys at the bar before he’d started making his demands. At first she hadn’t understood, and when she did catch on to what he wanted, Avery had tried to dissuade him. She knew Rowdy wouldn’t give him a thing, and she hated to see an ugly confrontation take place.

But the more the man drank, the nastier he got, and then, right after the breather had called again, she’d gotten lost in thought and Darrell had used that moment to grab her wrist.

She flattened her mouth, remembering again the discomfort, the fear, the...memories.

“Hey.” Rowdy lifted her hand to his mouth. “You okay?”

From the front seat, Logan snorted.

Rightfully so. Rowdy had a nearly two-foot cut from the top of his right shoulder all the way to the bottom of his left shoulder blade. He sat slightly forward, his left forearm braced on a thigh to keep his back from making contact with the seat.

But other than that, no one would know he’d been hurt.

She wasn’t even sure Rowdy knew it; he seemed so immune to pain.

Yes, she’d fretfully watched much of the fight through the kitchen window. When the knife wielder had shown up, she’d wanted so badly to rush out to Rowdy’s defense. With a cast-iron skillet in hand, she’d waffled, undecided if she’d help or hinder him with her presence—and the bastard had cut him.

She drew in a shuddering breath.

“Avery? Come on, honey. Ignore Logan and tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” She freed her hand and reached across him to straighten the coat over his shoulders. Since Reese had ripped away his shirt, he was bare chested except for the dish towels patching up his wound and Logan’s jacket, which he’d tried to refuse.

His body... Well, even so badly wounded, he made her want to melt. Her hand just naturally gravitated to his chest, smoothed over his downy, dark blond chest hair. She wanted to cuddle into him, put her cheek to his chest and feel his warmth, breathe in his vitality.