Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

Shay pretended she was asleep and mulled over what she'd heard Paul saying and what had happened tonight. There was too much to process. It sounded like Paul was in hot water with the authorities for rescuing her and killing those men. If he hadn't, they'd both be dead, or at least she would be. She wanted to go and proclaim his heroism, but it would only cause more of a mess if she surfaced.

Would she and Paul be alone wherever they were going? He was so enthralling she didn't quite know how to act around him. Thinking about the trouble with him and her brother made her uneasy. Everyone in town knew Carrie had kissed Paul all those years ago, not the other way around. Everyone except Darian. Darian knew it as well; he simply wouldn't admit to it.

He'd blamed Paul for everything from Carrie being ‘confused' to her going on a mountain bike ride by herself and losing control because she was ‘out of her head'. Darian had immortalized Carrie and vilified Paul. Her brother had learned to stay quiet about his convictions, except with their family. He couldn't disparage the hero of their town and still have clients come to him as a trusted lawyer, so he hid the hurt and bitterness. Shay feared it was festering inside him. She'd worried about it even before she saw Paul again.

It had been—Shay did some quick math—eleven years ago. She didn't know if her brother would ever move on from Carrie, find love and happiness. He was a supportive and loving brother and had always been there for her. He'd never missed a World Championship or any of her important events. If only she could help him more.

Going after Paul would be the opposite of helping Darian. Her brother would be livid. In reality, she knew there was no ‘her and Paul', but that kiss was the stuff daydreams were made of. Especially after her lifelong crush had rescued her so gallantly. Paul was every bit the hero her hometown made him out to be. She let her mind catalog all his impressive qualities so it wouldn't drift back to the absolute horror of being kidnapped by those scuzzy men.

"We're descending to our destination," Paul said through the speakers.

"Already?" She glanced through the open cockpit door. Then she hurried to unbuckle and walk in, sitting in the co-pilot seat and staring at the handsome pilot. "Where are we crashing?"

He didn't look at her but focused on all the controls and whatever he had to do to land the plane. "We don't speak of ‘crashing' while flying an airplane," he teased.

"Ha. Gotcha. Where will be residing for the next week, Pilot Paul?"

"Coleville, Montana. We have a safehouse here because of mutual friends." He glanced at her and smiled. "A safe ranch for you to ‘crash'."

"A whole ranch? That slaps."

He chuckled but focused back on what he was doing. The plane swooped down, and Shay dragged her gaze away from his appealing profile. There weren't many lights down there and she could make out jagged, dark peaks with the light from the stars and a half moon. Definitely rural, mountainous Montana. She'd never been to Montana, but her home state of Colorado was green and lush with mountains and valleys galore. She'd feel right at home. Especially with Paul by her side.

"And you'll stay with me?" She didn't mean to make her voice pitch up, but it did anyway.

Paul lifted his hand briefly from the controls and placed it over hers. He gave it a squeeze and his brown gaze filled her with hope and longing. "I'll stay with you and take you to the trial next week."

"Thank you." Her lip quivered and tears stung her eyes. The trial loomed in front of her, and the pain, fear, and agony of tonight surfaced as well. Had Turner and Meacham really died defending her?

"Shay, give me one moment and we can talk more." Paul's voice was soft and understanding. He pulled his hand back and focused. "We want to land in one piece and not crash," he said with a lilt of teasing. "Please buckle up."

"Oh!" She buckled in, pushing away the stress and pain of this night as she stared out the plane windows while they descended. The runway lights were bright, and a few lights signaled the small airport. A cluster of more lights was probably from a nearby town. She glanced at Paul, impressive in his element of flying this expensive jet .

They eased down and landed with a smooth run along the pavement.

"Lit! I've never landed without bouncing," she said.

"I am an expert."

"There it is. It's an easy flex for our cocky Air Force pilot."

Paul chuckled. "I have been accused of that before." He winked and then taxied the airplane past smaller planes and to a spot off by itself. "Aiden doesn't love leaving his jets exposed to the elements, but what can you do?"

"Like leaving a fancy car out of the garage?" she asked.

"Worse, actually." He messed with different buttons and tilted his head outside. "Our ride."

She peered through the plane windows. A large four-door truck pulled up not far away from the plane. A man climbed out. She couldn't see his face clearly but his strong build, jeans, T-shirt, cowboy boots, and a ten-gallon hat labeled him a cowboy, and a tough one at that.

"You know these people well?" she asked.

"I've worked with them a few times. They're great." He glanced out and said, "It's Clint. That's good."

"Why is that good?"

"Clint is the sheriff of Coleville, a trained warrior, and a great guy."

"So he'll help protect me in small town Montana? You didn't need any help back in Arizona with those gangstas all over me."

Paul smiled and fiddled with more controls. The jet's loud motors quieted. "It's true I don't need help, but another pair of eyes is always good. And Clint won't flirt with you like his brothers would." He stood and she followed suit.

He grabbed his backpack and slung it on one shoulder .

"Would it bother you if his brothers flirted with me?" she asked, peering up into his deep-brown gaze.

"I'm just thinking of … all you've been through tonight. I didn't think you'd want anyone else to hit on you."

She shivered and hugged herself. "You're right, but I'm sure tough cowboys from Montana who work with you wouldn't be disgusting and foul like those men."

"True. The Colevilles are good, honorable men."

She forced a smile and turned to walk. Paul stopped her with a warm hand on her arm. "Shay … I'm sorry about the way they treated you and all you're going through. How can I help?"

Shay turned back to him. She wanted to cuddle into him and let the tears come. "You already rescued me. I'm grateful you're here." This was a serious moment, so she cut the slang out.

Paul's dark eyes were warm and intense. "I'll be forever grateful I was there. Your safety is more than worth chalking up my first failed mission."

They exchanged a smile, and she eased a bit closer. "I'm sorry you failed your mission."

"Don't be. I would never want anything to happen to you, Shay. You're like a little sister to me."

Shay's back straightened, and any desire to cuddle into him fled. A little sister? That was how he saw her? That was all kinds of wrong. Cringe. No cap.

"Thanks," was all she could manage before turning and walking through the plane. She waited for him by the plane door. Her hands were shaky. She was exhausted and had been through a lot. It wasn't wrong that she wanted to hold onto Paul and soak up his comfort, protection, and strength, but as a little sister … no.

She'd crushed on and worshipped Paul Braven. Even when her brother ranted about him, she could only see Paul as the hottest military hero on earth. She'd never expected Paul to return the attraction, never expected to reside in the same zip code when they were both full-grown adults. Then they were thrust into this insane situation, and she'd talked herself into him being interested in her as a legit romance interest. His kiss was fire. Those lips of his, and the beguiling look in his deep brown eyes, had convinced her he was interested, invested even.

She touched her fingertips to her lips just as he walked up. His gaze dropped to her lips and then lifted to meet hers. The smoldering depth in those luscious brown eyes made her stagger. She reached out and his arm was right there to steady her.

"Are you all right?" His voice was deep and husky.

She'd be all right when he kissed her again.

Little sister.

Cringe.

"I'm ready to drop," she admitted. "I can't believe all of this happened, and I want to puke when I think about Turner and Meacham."

"I didn't tell you … Aiden found out your FBI agents are missing."

"What?" She straightened and pulled away from his grip. "They're not dead?"

Paul paused, and she could see a struggle in his eyes. "We don't know. Their status right now is missing which could mean they're alive or their bodies will be found somewhere or … they were working with your kidnappers."

"No." She shook her head. "Not my bruhs. Not Turner and Meacham. They were gucci. I can't believe they'd turn their backs on me and let me roast. "

He shrugged, not promising anything. "Let's get you to the ranch so you can rest."

"Okay."

He pushed the button and the door opened. Taking her elbow, he escorted her down the steps and around the plane to where the truck and cowboy waited. Shay thrilled at every simple touch. She had to stop feeling that way. He obviously didn't.

The cowboy straightened away from the truck as they approached. He was lean and fit and as he tilted his hat back, she saw he was off the charts hot, almost as hot as Paul, with bright blue eyes and a drippy cowboy look.

"Clint," Paul greeted him. "Thanks for coming." Paul released her and shook the cowboy's hand.

"Anytime," Clint said.

"This is Shay Cannon."

Clint's gaze sharpened on her. "The Olympic swimmer who disappeared."

Disappeared. Goodbye forever. Shay's lip trembled. "Yes, sir."

"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am." He gave her a warm, firm handshake. "I hate that you're caught up in a mess."

"Thank you. I low key appreciate you helping us." She felt like saying ‘us' branded her and Paul a couple. As Paul eased closer and his arm brushed hers, she wondered if he didn't mind. Then she wondered if he thought of her as younger than twenty-seven because of her teenage verbiage. She'd have to make a conscious effort not to use it and see if she could change his mind about the little sister bunk as they spent the majority of their time together the next five days .

Alone. With the most enthralling man on the planet. It would be fabulous … if he returned her interest.

"We're happy to. You'll be safe with us, ma'am." He looked to Paul. "Aiden said you were going to stay right with her."

"Yes, I am." He glanced down at her and she swayed from the power of that deep-brown gaze.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her around the truck, loading her into the front passenger seat. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes and the touch of his hands made her think there was no way the term ‘little sister' could be tossed around.

She leaned her head back as he shut the door and walked around to confer with Clint while Paul did a few more things with the jet.

She was used up. But she was safe. She'd have to deal with her feelings for Paul and all the rest of this tomorrow.