Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

When Paul and Clint climbed in the truck, Paul sat behind Shay. Her head lolled to the side and she was breathing slow and even. Paul had never seen someone look so appealing while sleeping in an uncomfortable position. He was trying his best to keep her in the ‘little sister' box. He felt protective of her like a sister, but that's where it ended. She was enticing to him. Being there to rescue her had been nothing short of miraculous. Why would heaven bring him together with the one woman he needed to keep his distance from?

"She's been through a lot?" Clint guessed.

"Yeah," Paul agreed. He trusted Clint and all the Colevilles but wanted as few people to know about Shay's case as possible.

Instead, Paul updated him on anything new with Benjamin Oliver and asked about the situation from his end. Shay didn't stir the entire time.

Clint wasn't the verbose type and Paul wasn't overly talkative either, so when silence fell about halfway through the drive, he wasn't surprised. Especially as he was sitting in the backseat and conversation wasn't as easy.

When Clint broke the silence with, "Shay Cannon; she's an impressive athlete," in a very respectful voice and then added, "How well do you know her?"

Paul didn't know what to say, what to reveal. On the off-chance Shay was faking asleep, he couldn't spill how drawn he was to her. The little sister angle was a safe one. If he could somehow keep her in that box.

"Ironically enough," he said, "she's from my hometown. Her older brother and I used to be close." Used to be. It still hurt that Darian loathed him. For a long time, he'd convinced himself it was better for Darian if he stayed away, especially as Darian would be even more livid when he found out Paul and Carrie had emailed the entire year leading up to her kissing him. But if Darian wasn't moving on, wasn't living his life, maybe it was time Paul manned up and paid his old friend a visit. It might help both of them to clear the air. This had gone on too long.

"That makes sense. There's something between you …" Clint caught his eye in the rearview and his voice trailed off.

The sheriff wasn't going to spell out what he sensed between the two of them in case she wasn't asleep. Good man. But it reaffirmed what Paul couldn't dismiss—there was something happening between them, something enticing and sadly forbidden.

"Makes sense you knew one another before," Clint added.

"Yeah. I about lost it when I saw her in danger."

"That's rough," Clint agreed. "If my woman was in danger …"

"She's not … my woman." Paul felt awkward even saying that. He'd dated a lot of impressive and beautiful ladies. Au tumn loved to tease him that he had ‘issues' since he was thirty-five and unmarried. He'd never dated anyone long enough or seriously enough to think about marriage. Gone too much, married to his Air Force and then security career, closed off—he'd heard all of those from women he'd dated. He could add ‘couldn't forgive himself for past transgressions, most of all his role in Carrie's death and Darian's bitterness' to the list. But he broke any relationship off before he had to reveal that.

He'd protected Elizabeth Oliver and helped her find the Savior and forgive herself for the awful things her parents had forced her to do. Yet he still struggled.

Okay. Maybe Autumn was right.

None of the women he'd dated held a candle in his mind to Shay, and she'd be the last person to whom he'd reveal what he hadn't been able to share with Darian all these years. Yes, Darian had blocked his phone number and email address, but he could've knocked on the man's door at some point. At first he'd reasoned that it would only anger Darian more, and then time had slid by. Saving Shay could be a blessing to make him face his past.

"She's like a little sister," he insisted. Shay hadn't seemed to appreciate him saying that, but it was a good boundary to put up. She was in danger, he and Darian were still a mess, and Shay had been like a younger sibling to him. Unfortunately, there were no sisterly feelings for her any longer.

"I see. Well, I'm grateful you were there for her."

"Me too."

Paul drew in a breath, not wanting to stew about it. He closed his eyes and said a heartfelt prayer of gratitude in his head that he had been in the right place at the right time to rescue her. The thought of those men having their way with her … his palms grew clammy and bile crawled up his throat.

Clint stayed silent and Paul found himself asking heaven for help. He was often in seemingly impossible situations and things worked out one way or another. With Shay being the person he was protecting, he couldn't handle the thought of things not working out to keep her alive, safe, healthy, happy, and someday soon able to train for and pursue her Olympic dreams again. Would she be too old in four years to go for the Olympics? He would not frame that question to her.

He smiled to himself. Would she say that was ‘cringe' or worse? The teenage terminology from a mature and accomplished woman like Shay was refreshing and made him smile. She'd started using the verbiage to connect with her younger teammates and the teenage athletes she coached. It was so like Shay to work to make others comfortable and not in awe of her star status. He'd tried to do the same when he visited home and everyone treated him like a hero.

They pulled up to the ranch gate, got clearance with the guard, and drove along the tree-lined road, past the main cabin and barns and along another tree-lined route to a cabin with the front porch lights on and a lamp in one of the front windows. Lieutenant Miles Coleville's cabin. Miles was a SEAL and rarely here.

Clint stopped the truck. Paul jumped out, swung his backpack on, and opened the front door.

Shay jumped, yelled, "No shot!" and took a swing at him.

Paul ducked and grasped her smaller hands in his. Her eyes were wild.

"Shay, it's me. Paul. You're safe."

"Paul." Her eyes calmed. She pushed out of the truck and flung her arms around his neck. "I had the worst dream. Scuzzy men were all over me and …" She trailed off. "It was real." She shuddered. "Oh, cringe. It was real, wasn't it?"

"It was," he admitted.

"Can you hold me, please?" Her gaze was desperate.

He cradled her against his chest, sweeping her legs off the ground. Shay was tall and strong for a woman, but it was easy for him to hold her aloft.

"I'm here," he whispered against her silky hair. "I've got you." He pressed a kiss against her hairline and suddenly that was all he could think about—her hair, her skin, her lips.

"You are the GOAT, definitely." Her beautiful teal eyes gave him a worshipful look. She cuddled into him, wrapping her arms tight around his upper back. She sighed sweetly and closed her eyes.

Paul wanted to stand there and savor holding her for a very long time, but Clint was waiting in front of the truck, looking the other direction. He didn't want to make it awkward for Clint and it was after three in the morning. The sheriff would probably love to get them settled and head home.

He carried her across the grass and up the cabin steps. She felt firm and substantial and warm and too alluring in his arms. The wide front porch was adorned with rocking chairs. Could he and Shay sit out here and rock, hold hands and talk like a couple of old, happily married people?

Whoa. That image needed to be pushed away.

Clint hurried in front of him, pushing the handle down and swinging the door wide. "The master is upstairs on the right side of the loft," Clint said. "I'll wait so I can show you the security. "

"Thank you." Paul nodded to the cowboy, who took his hat off and tilted his chin up.

Paul strode across the main area, dimly lit with a couple lamps. It was an open-concept living room, dining room, and kitchen. Spacious yet cozy. Especially cozy with Shay curled against his chest. Her eyes were closed but she clung to him, so he knew she was awake. He ascended the stairs and her eyes fluttered open.

"How are you carrying me so easily?"

"I'm just swole like that."

She laughed and he could imagine he'd used the term wrong.

"Where are you depositing me?" she asked.

"Clint suggested you take the master bedroom." He smiled as he heard Clint grunt.

"That's bussin. Tell the hot cowboy thanks."

"I think you already did," Paul said, pausing and glancing back down at Clint as he reached the loft area.

Clint tilted his chin up and then leaned against the wall, settling in to wait. Paul could imagine Clint was a ‘hot cowboy', but Paul didn't appreciate hearing that from Shay's pretty mouth.

She laid her head in the crook of his neck and her lips brushed the sensitive skin of his neck. Paul sucked in a breath, the warmth from her lips on his neck spreading throughout his body. He turned and hurried into the room on the right. The bed was turned down, and a lamp on a low setting decorated the nightstand. The Colevilles were great, especially Mama Coleville.

Paul could imagine Mama getting everyone out of bed when she heard they were coming and bossing Easton and Walker around as they put on fresh sheets, cleaned the cabin, made sure there were toiletries and clothes, and stocked the fridge. He selfishly didn't want Shay to meet Easton. She'd be enthralled with the charming bull rider and they'd get along well, both being elite athletes and understanding each other's teenage lingo

He lowered her onto the bed, trying not to think about how intimate it felt. Her long blonde hair splayed across the pillow and her eyes fluttered open as she settled in.

Paul had to look away from the allure of those teal eyes. He lifted the sheet and comforter, pulled it over her legs and upper body, and gently tucked her in. Her breath was coming in fast pants like his. His gaze was drawn back to hers and it held fast. His hands framed her upper body, pressing into the mattress.

Shay didn't move and neither did he for several long seconds. She moistened her lips, and he knew he had kiss her or get out of here.

Straightening quickly, he murmured, "Goodnight."

"Please." Shay didn't move but her eyes tugged him in. "Don't leave me."

Paul swallowed and eased back a step when every part of him was screaming to get closer to her. "Shay." He kept his voice soft. "I need to go talk to Clint about the security system. I won't be far."

"You'll come back and stay with me?"

Stay with her? Was that wrong? He'd never spent the night with a woman. Shay wasn't propositioning him. She needed comfort. Was he so attracted to her he couldn't stay smart about it?

He focused on her beautiful face. Shay had been through more tonight than most people could tolerate in a lifetime. She'd been strong and brave, and she wanted him to stay close. That wasn't wrong.

"I'll make a bed on the floor," he offered.

"I don't want you crashing on the floor." She was wide awake now and staring at him so beseechingly he wanted to agree to anything she needed.

"Shay." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Either I sleep on the floor or I sleep across the hall."

She peered up at him. "Why?"

Great. Did he have to explain this? Was she too innocent to understand, or maybe she wasn't innocent at all and that was why … His stomach turned over.

"Those are the options," he said. "Which would you prefer?"

"Go talk to Clint and we'll figure it out," she said.

"Okay." Paul had no idea what they would figure out. Hopefully he could convince her she was safe and he could sleep in the spare bedroom. The thought of sleeping in the same room as her, even if he was on the floor… His body temperature flared and he hurried out the door and down the stairs to speak with Clint. This whole situation was getting out of control.

Little sister. Little sister.

The reminder didn't help. Paul had sisters. Shay was nothing like a sister.