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tempting him to forget his hard-won common sense. He’d been willing to overlook that, give in to the temptation to get to know her better.
    Until Tick walked in the room.
    Over dinner, his third impression had cemented his conviction that Madeline Holton was a woman to be avoided. She was distinctly uncomfortable, her posture rigid and aloof, a sure sign that she didn’t feel she belonged. Even more obviously, she had some type of hang-up where Tick was concerned. She darted secret looks in his direction, and with each one, her expression grew more and more unhappy, the line of her shoulders grew more and more taut.
    Therefore, despite being the most intriguing female he’d met in a long time, Madeline was off limits. He’d already had one high-maintenance woman with a hankering for another man try to ruin him. He didn’t need another one.
    Shrugging off the musings, he passed a stack of silverware to Tick, who was loading the dishwasher while Stanton wiped down the kitchen. He squinted at Tick’s drawn features. “You look wasted.”
    “I am.” Tick dropped the forks in the basket. “Tired as hell.”
    “See?” Stanton swiped a sponge over the island. “Having Madeline on hand will take a load off you, too.”
    Straightening, Tick fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Right. Having her around is going to really help things at work. This is the same woman who blamed you for her father’s death. For your daughter’s death. Remember?”
    “Her father had just died, suddenly and violently. People do odd things under those circumstances.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Tick—”
    “I’m going to remind you of this conversation when we’re cleaning up whatever mess she causes before she skips out again.”
    Curious, Ash leaned on the counter, cast a quick glance out the window at the women on the deck then shifted his attention to Tick. “You don’t like her?”
    “I don’t trust her.” After adding detergent to the dishwasher, Tick closed the door a little harder than necessary. “She’s a conniving liar.”
    “Damn it, Tick.” Stanton looked toward the kitchen door, which led to the deck. “Keep your voice down.”
    “Trust me, she knows how I feel.”
    Stanton studied Tick, frowning. “Autry’s never said anything—”
    “Autry doesn’t know.” Tick passed a hand over his jaw. “Look, just drop it, okay? You hired her, she’ll only be here six weeks—if I’m lucky—and I can handle it that long.”
    “What did she do?” At Ash’s quiet question, both Stanton and Tick turned surprised expressions in his direction. He shrugged. Yeah, asking was out of character for him, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.
    Tick’s dark gaze flitted from Ash to Stanton. “I can’t say.”
    “What? First, you’re bitching because I hired her, then you insinuate she’s less than ethical, and now you can’t explain. Shit, Tick.”
    “I promised Virgil I wouldn’t.” Tick’s shoulders moved in an uncomfortable roll. “He didn’t want her mother or…anyway, I gave him my word.”
    Stanton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, that’s just great.”
    Tick shrugged. “I’ll stick close to her, Stan, keep an eye on her, all right? We’ll find a way to make it work. It’s only six weeks. How much damage can she do in a month and a half?”
    Who was Tick trying harder to convince—Stanton or himself?
    “I’m going to see if Cait’s ready to go.” Tick jerked a thumb toward the back door.
    Once it closed behind him, Ash slanted a sideways glance at Stanton. “He’s wound pretty tight.”
    Stanton huffed a humorless laugh. “No kidding. I thought having Madeline here, taking some of the pressure off him would help. Guess I was wrong.”
    “He’ll be fine. He always is.” Ash rested both hands on the counter’s edge and let his gaze travel to the window once more. On the deck, Tick leaned down to lift the baby from Caitlin’s arms and waved Autry to stay seated. Madeline darted another of