Now he did pull down the covers from the bed. When Cat didn't immediately move to lie down, he gingerly set his hands on her -- and why was it so difficult to do that now that he was in her bedroom, if she could mean nothing to him -- and guided her down to the pillows.
He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, slipping off her shoes, pulling the blankets over her, taking the empty glass from the nightstand... He was going to be late to his meeting if he didn't hurry. But looking down at her, huddled down into the darkness, he hardly seemed to care.
But there was Charlie to think about. And her little man. He drew himself back to his purpose for the night, frowning. "I'll be back in a few hours, then," he said, pocketing her keys.
And then he left, depositing the glass beside the kitchen sink as he went.