"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his cheek against her hair. "I'm such a jackass." She rubbed her hands up and down his back. He was warm and alive and next to her. Nothing else really mattered. "Jackass seems strong," she murmured. "How about a first-class screwup?" "If you're going to do a job, then do it the best you can." He chuckled low in his throat. "Gee, thanks." "You're welcome."