EARLY, LIKE HE ALWAYS DID. IT DIDN’T MATter if he was on shift or off. He was an early riser.
When he rolled over in the bed, he could smell Carmen’s scent on the pillow next to him. The problem was, she wasn’t there.
She’d left sometime before dawn, saying she had to get home to her grandfather, get him breakfast and drop him off at therapy for the day.
He yawned, stretched, got out of bed, put on shorts and a sleeveless shirt and went downstairs. It looked like he was the first one up, so he made himself a cup of coffee and walked outside.
It was cloudy today, which made Rafe happy, because it wasn’t so blisteringly hot that his feet melted to the patio outside. He sat near the pool and sipped his coffee, letting the caffeine do its thing.
He saw some tree limbs from Carmen’s backyard leaning over into their yard. Not a big deal, but he should get a ladder and trim those so Carmen wouldn’t have to do it. And while he was at it, he should trim the other trees in their yard to give them a neater look.
He went inside and peeled potatoes, sliced and put them on to boil, then made some bacon and eggs. By that time, Jackson and Becks came downstairs.
“You should know better than to start cooking bacon this early,” Jackson said, stealing a piece of bacon while he took a drink of his coffee.
“Hey, that’s for breakfast,” Rafe said.
“You can always make more.”
“No, you can make more.”
Becks skirted around Rafe and went to the fridge. “You know six pieces isn’t going to be enough. I’ll do it.”
Becks started the bacon while Rafe drained the water off the potatoes and sliced them, then put them in the pan to fry them up. Kal had come home while he was outside. He washed his hands and sliced mangoes. They got out plates and served up breakfast, then took everything to the table to eat.
After last night with Carmen, Rafe had worked up a hell of an appetite and was starving, but he tried not to shovel the food into his mouth.
“So Carmen decided not to stay for breakfast?” Becks asked.
Rafe lifted his head. “Carmen? Uh, no. Why would she be here?”
“Because I saw her tiptoe down the stairs about four a.m. when I woke up to come downstairs for some water.”
“Oh.”
“Sooo, Carmen spent the night, huh?” Kal asked. “Do tell, brother.”
“Or, don’t,” Jackson said, frowning at Kal. “Because it’s no one’s business.”
“Oops,” Becks said, lifting her shoulders in apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret.”
Rafe shrugged. “It’s not. At least not to me. I don’t know how Carmen will feel about everyone knowing.”
“It’s not like we’re gonna put a sign up,” Kal said. “Your private business is your own. Except with us, because we’re family and nosy.”
Rafe laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
After breakfast, they all cleaned the dishes and wiped down the kitchen. Becks had to get ready to go to her tattoo shop, and then she left. Kal ran off to do . . . something, and Jackson said he was going to buy tires for his truck, so that meant Rafe was alone in the house.
He went into the garage to get the trimmers and took those out to the far part of the backyard. He grabbed the ladder, climbed up and started cutting away the long hanging branches that he could reach from his part of the yard. When he’d trimmed all the ones he could, he put the clippings in the recycle bin. He stared up at the tree, deciding it looked good enough for now.
Then he studied Carmen’s yard. He took the ladder and trimmer and went into her yard, figuring she’d never notice he was there.
He was busily trimming the tree when he heard a tap on the ladder. He looked down to see Carmen, glaring up at him with a pissed-off expression on her face.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I started trimming your tree that was hanging over my part of the yard, and noticed it needed it on your part, too. Figured I’d finish the job since I was already hot and sweaty.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, you did. Without even asking me.”
He didn’t see why it was a big deal. “Okay. Hey, Carmen. This tree is in serious need of maintenance. Mind if I handle it?”
“You do realize I’m perfectly capable of handling my