He folded his arms across his chest. “He asked to go and I figured it wouldn’t hurt.” There was no hint of apology in his voice. “It wouldn’t hurt? What if he’d fallen off? He could have been seriously injured. Not to mention the fact that Cherry Lane could have been liable. Our residents are required to sign waivers when they go on outings.” “Lawyer stuff,” he said disparagingly. She was far too close to him. His body gave off a kind of heat, a magnetism, that made it hard to concentrate on what she was saying. She retreated behind her desk and sat down. “Yes, it is lawyer stuff, as you so elegantly put it. We’re legally responsible for the people who stay here, and we have to take that seriously.” He flopped down in a guest chair, uninvited. “But . . .” He frowned. “I don’t work here. This was just a guy thing. I’ve got a bike, he wanted a ride, I took him.” It took her a moment to translate that. “You’re suggesting it really didn’t have to do with Cherry Lane, it was personal.
