Apparently Jeff had opted to call little sis instead, who'd decided it was a good idea to show up at the ass-crack of dawn.

Wait. Two women, one of them pissed off, together in our condo. Neither one of whom has had caffeine.

He shuddered and did the only sane thing he could. He hid in the kitchen and made coffee.

Kir pulled away from the doorjamb and wiped the tears from his eyes. Little Jamie was still standing there, hands on hips, glaring at him like he'd run over her puppy.

"What?"

He was baffled when she shook her head at him like he was a loon. “How bad is she?” She plopped down on the white chaise, staring at him a little less angrily.

"Hurting.” He winced when she glared at him again. “We're taking care of her, I promise."

"You don't even know her. How can you take care of her?"

He glided over to her, watching her face as she slowly took in his naked chest. The look was assessing and without heat.

The little minx is sizing me up!

"How does Jordan feel about this whole ... arrangement?” She waved her hand in the air, her brows still furrowed. “I mean, she's pretty big on the whole monogamy thing."

"Tri-ogomy."

Jamie blinked. “Huh?"

Kir shrugged, and yawned again. It was too fuck-all early in the morning for her to try and get him to make sense. “Three people, all together. Not sure monogamy is the right word."

"So you two are going to sleep around on her?"

"Around her, on her, in her ... yup, that covers it.” He fell onto the sofa and put his arm over his eyes.

Damn he was tired. Despite the fact that Jordan had slept most of the night peacefully next to him, it hadn't felt quite right. He'd missed having Logan in the bed with them. That would have made it perfect.

But they'd been too afraid of jarring her healing shoulder to risk it.

"Pervert."

He sighed. “I love Jordan. I love Logan. Logan loves me. I'm working on Jordan. If that makes me a pervert, then hand me the flag and teach me the anthem."

"Kir?"

Jordan's hesitant voice had him sitting up. “Yes, baby?"

She held up one arm of the shirt she'd been trying to put on. She held her injured arm, in its sling, over her breasts. She'd managed to get the bra on, but not hooked.

He got up and, without thought, helped her finish dressing. “Better?"

"Mm-hmm. Thanks.” Her cheeks were flushed and she wouldn't meet his eyes. She'd been like this since the first time he'd had to help her get dressed. Having a bullet wound sucked big time. Luckily it had been on the outside of her arm, rather than further in; the bones had been nicked, but not broken.

"You're welcome.” He planted a soft kiss on those oh-so-tempting lips and left for the bedroom. If he was going to be up, he was going to take a shower. Maybe it would help wake him up.

Normally he would have dragged Logan in with him, but he didn't for two reasons. One, he was pretty sure Jamie would be weirded all the hell out. And two, they'd decided not to do anything with each other until after they'd convinced Jordan she belonged with them. Even if it led to a terminal case of blue balls.

Oh, well. Thank goodness for body wash and a firm grip. He grinned and shut the bathroom door behind him with an audible click . It didn't occur to him until he had the water nice and hot and was about to step in that her sister had been sitting right there, yet Jordan had still asked him for help.

Suddenly the day was looking a whole lot brighter.

Jordan sat on the sofa, sipping at the coffee Logan had brought out for her. It was perfect, just like everything the two men had done for her so far was perfect.

Make that almost perfect.

They had hovered over her for the last week, and for the most part, she was grateful for it, especially when she'd been stuck in the hospital for longer than they'd thought she would be. And when they'd brought her home two days ago she'd needed so much help that it hadn't even been funny. She couldn't quite dress herself, let alone feed herself. Having the two men pamper her was a heady feeling she could

quickly grow addicted to, along with the tiny little touches and kisses they peppered her with. It was like they were slowly seducing her, since none of those little kisses they constantly gave her could be called

“brotherly".

On the flip side, she could live without their bossiness. The one time yesterday she'd tried to sneak into the den to check her email, they'd freaked out and put her to bed like a recalcitrant four-year-old.

Of course, she could admit, at least to herself, that she'd acted like a recalcitrant four-year-old. She had the feeling today wasn't going to be much better.

"Y'know, you've got two. Can I have one? Because it's no fair hoarding the hotties."

Jordan smirked at Jamie over the rim of her mug. “What do you think Travis would have to say about that?"

Jamie turned beet red. “Absolutely nothing, since he doesn't know I exist outside of Hi, this is Guardian Investigations. How may we help you? ” It was her best, perkiest receptionists’ voice, the one that grated on Jordan's nerves until her third cup of coffee. “What do you think he's going to say when he finds out you've been shot? Hmm?"

Jordan leaned in and whispered, ignoring the twinge of pain in her shoulder. “I've already emailed him."

Jamie nodded, some of the flush receding from her cheeks. “Good. He needs to know, so we can fuss over you.” She jumped. “All of us. I mean, all of us. Jeff, too. You know how he likes to fuss."

Jordan bit her lip. Jamie's crush on their boss never failed to lift her day. Too bad Travis had never shown any interest in her. The two of them would be smokin’ hot together. “I can't lay claim to either Demon Boy or Archangel."

She thought she heard a muffled bullshit from the kitchen, but she wasn't certain. Could have been Logan sneezing. She shrugged and dismissed it.

One of Jamie's bright red brows rose into her hair. “Really? Because it looked to me like you and Mr.'s DB and AA are having a nice, cosy live-in. Complete with rumpled bedhead and delivered coffee."

"Line of duty. They feel guilty.” Or, that's what she kept telling herself, anyway. “They're worried that the person who shot at them will go after me, and they have better security in their home than I do in mine.”

Which was the truth. A brain-dead monkey could probably break into her inexpensive apartment with ease.

Another muffled sound came from the kitchen. Huh. Who knew? Gods sneeze. Logan needs to get his allergies checked. She ignored the little voice that told her that what she'd heard had not been a sneeze.

"Really,” Jamie drawled. She perked up, smiling that sunny smile that had landed her the receptionists’

job at Guardian. “Y'know, with Travis away on vacation, I bet he wouldn't mind if you stayed at his place. The security there is top-notch."

She opened her mouth to answer when a hand landed on her good shoulder. “She's perfectly happy right here."

Jamie glared up at Logan. “She's capable of speech, ape."

Jordan nearly snorted coffee through her nose trying not to laugh.

Before she could regain her composure Kir stepped out of the bedroom. His cheeks were flushed, his hair hanging wet around his shoulders. He'd put on a muscle shirt, blue to match his eyes, and one of his sinfully tight pairs of jeans. His big feet were bare, braced squarely on the maple floor. A breezy smile graced his face. “I'm starving. Anybody want donuts?"

Logan stared down at Jordan's sleeping form. He still couldn't get over the fact that she'd bled for him.