"Nothing," she said in a defensive tone. "White wine, mostly. I've had just as much as Ella, and I'm fine."

"I'm fine, too," I protested, screwing my eyes open. "Just a Hi—" I paused, having to concentrate to form the words right. My tongue felt like it had been Scotchguarded. "Shleep-deprived."

"Ella, honey . . ." There was a tremor of laughter in Jack's voice, and his hand moved over my hair. His fingers delved through the light, loose strands to my scalp and stroked tenderly. I closed my eyes again and held still, hoping he wouldn't stop.

"What time is it?" I mumbled, yawning.

"Eight-thirty."

I heard Haven ask, "Should I make coffee?"

"No," Jack said before I could reply.

"Liquor can hit you like an anvil when you're tired," Hardy said, sounding sympathetic. "It was like that on the rig. A couple of weeks on with a night shift thrown in, and you were so exhausted one beer would lay you flat."

"I'm still getting used to Luke's schedule," I said, rubbing my bleary eyes. "He's not what you'd call a good sleeper. Even for an infant."

"Ella," Haven said, her face kind and concerned, "we've got an extra bedroom. Why don't you crash here tonight? I'll take care of Luke so you can get some rest."

"No. Oh, that's so nice, you're so . . . but I'm fine. I jus' need to . . ." I paused to yawn, and forgot what I'd been saying. "Need to find the elevator," I said vaguely.

Haven came to me, lifting the baby from my arms. "I'll put him in his carrier."

I wished I could have just five more minutes of resting against Jack. The muscles beneath his T-shirt pillowed my cheek so firmly, so perfectly. "Li'l longer," I mumbled, burrowing deeper. I sighed and drowsed, dimly aware of the murmured conversation around me.

". . . hard, what she's doing," Haven was saying. "To put your life on hold . . ."

"What's the deal with the Austin guy?" Hardy asked.

"Wouldn't man up," Jack replied in a tone of unqualified disdain. And although I wanted to say something in Dane's defense, I was too exhausted to make a sound. Either I dozed more heavily or a long silence passed, because I didn't hear anything for a while.

"Ella," I eventually heard, and I shook my head in annoyance. I was so comfortable, and I wanted the voice to go away. "Ella." Something soft and hot brushed my cheek. "Let me take you down to your apartment."

I was mortified to realize that I had fallen sound asleep in front of all three of them, and that I was practically in Jack's lap. "Okay. Yes. I'm sorry." I struggled upward, tried to find my balance.

Jack reached out to steady me. "Lightweight."

Red-faced and groggy, I scowled. "I didn't have that much to drink."

"We know you didn't," Haven said soothingly, and she shot her brother a warning glance. "You're the last person who has any right to tease, Mr. Sleep Inertia."

Jack grinned and told me, "I get up at seven every morning, but I'm not really awake 'til noon." He kept a supportive arm around my shoulder. "Come on, blue eyes. I'll help you find the elevator."

"Where's the baby?"

"I just fed and changed him," Haven said. Hardy lifted Luke's carrier and gave it to Jack, who took it with his free hand.

"Thank you." I gave Haven a woeful glance as she handed me the diaper bag. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For falling asleep like that."

Haven smiled and reached out to hug me. "There's nothing to be sorry about. What's a little narcolepsy among friends?" Her body was slim and strong, one small hand patting my back. The gesture surprised me in its naturalness and ease. I returned the embrace awkwardly. Haven said over my shoulder, "I like this one, Jack."

Jack didn't answer, only nudged me out into the hallway.

I trudged forward, nearly blind with exhaustion, staggering with it. It took extreme focus to keep one foot in front of the other. "I don't know why I'm so tired tonight," I said. "It's all caught up with me, I guess." I felt Jack's hand descend to the center of my back, guiding me forward. I decided to talk to keep myself awake. "You know, chronic sleep deper . . . dep . . ."

"Deprivation?"

"Yes." I shook my head to clear it. "It gives you memory problems and raises your blood pressure. And it results in occupational hazards. It's lucky I can't get hurt doing my job. Unless I fall forward and hit my head on the keyboard. If you ever see qwerty imprinted on my forehead, you'll know what happened."

"Here we go," Jack said, loading me onto the elevator. I squinted at the row of buttons and reached for one. "No," he said patiently, "that's the nine, Ella. Press the upside-down one."

"They're all upside-down," I told him, but I managed to find the 6. Propping myself up in the corner, I wrapped my arms around my midriff. "Why did Haven tell you 'I like this one'?"

"Why shouldn't she like you?"

"It's just. . . if she says it to you, it implies . . ."—I tried to wrap my foggy brain around the idea—". . . something."

A quiet laugh escaped him. "Don't try thinking just now, Ella. Save it for later."