For the first time in months, his shoulder hadn’t bothered him during the night. He should have been able to sleep the sleep of the dead and should have awakened refreshed and happy. Should have. He’d still slept like shit. Because of a throbbing body part. Just because it wasn’t his shoulder didn’t mean it was any less bothersome. It might have been more bothersome. There was no one to really blame for his shoulder pain. The surgeon had done what he could. But there was a colorful, pixie-ish hippie girl to blame for the other throbbing. TJ threw the empty plastic bucket against the side of the barn with exaggerated force. The ankle bracelets and the earrings and the tattoo weren’t enough—she had to be sweet to Delaney and she had to kiss him like it was her sole purpose in life and she had to want to take care of him. Fuck. That should not be appealing. When his mother and sister-in-law and friends hovered and fussed, it made him cranky. When Hope said she was going to focus on him… Well, it wasn’t just his cock that responded.
