Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(124)

Gabe shook his friends hand, gave Harley one of those chest bump, man hugs and called it good. Life was too short to hold grudges for no good reason. Gabe didn’t intend to start now.

Poor Mark was still hard at work managing The TEAM while Alex was out of the country, but he’d changed. A lot. Not being lead dog probably helped his cheerier disposition, but Gabe knew better. Mark had been tested in one of the hottest fires imaginable and The TEAM had survived because of him. He’d come out a little scorched, but tempered like those extra sharp USMC knives a lot of men and women on The TEAM carried and carried proudly. Gabe knew it to his soul. If the day ever came that Alex stepped aside, Mark was already battle-hardened and capable. The TEAM would follow.

And then there was Shelby. She made herself at home in his new bachelor pad, then proceeded to fix meatloaf and real mashed potatoes instead of his customary instant spuds for dinner their first night together. Pretty clever. She knew the way to a man’s heart. It worked.

She showed all the signs of hyper-vigilance, and startled easily, but those symptoms would fade over time. Or not. The guilt, relief, fear, and other mixed-up feelings were part and parcel of surviving any life-threatening trauma. What mattered most was to be that survivor in the first place.

Her close call with Ron Fallon had humbled her. She wanted to learn to shoot and had already signed up for a self-defense course taught by the local police. Better yet, she’d been accepted into the local school of nursing. The next time she passed herself off as Nurse Sullivan, she’d have the credentials to back her up.

Despite his injury, Gabe countered her current bossy order with his own get-out-of-my-way spiked brow. He hadn’t needed help getting in the tub before. He wasn’t going to start now. “I’ve got this,” he’d said firmly.

But Shell wasn’t most women. She’d accepted his removable limb as a matter of fact, but in the process, somehow, she’d also considered it hers to care for. “Come on. Let me help.”

And that was where the rubber met the road.

He took hold of her shoulder to emphasize his point. “No. You need to back off.”

Her eyes widened in surprise followed instantly by contrition. “I’m doing it again, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am. You are. I know you’re here to help, but I’m capable. ’Sides, it’s the hole in my chest that’s recuperating. Not my foot.”

They’d had this conversation before. Her relentless need to control had met a brick wall named Gabe, and he wasn’t going to change. He lowered his butt to the tiled edge of the tub, removed his prosthetic and the sock that covered his residual limb, setting them aside.

She took a step back. “Okay then. I’ll be outside if you need anything. Just call.”

“You know I will.” He eased his legs into the tiled tub, the one thing he’d demanded his builders include in his new home. It sported a handrail and bench, so a guy with one foot could sit while he showered. Again, it was no big deal. A man did what a man had to do.


He would’ve dropped his boxers, but she waited a minute too long at the door.

“There is one thing I do need,” he whispered slyly as he turned the shower on and maneuvered to the center of the bench. Pulsating water streamed over his legs and foot. He’d intended to disrobe once she’d left, but plans change. They hadn’t had any real time together since that last night at Kelsey’s and Alex’s home. It was time.

Of course, she came straightway to help.

Silly girl.

He pulled her onto his lap, right under the shower spray.

“Gabe. Stop. You’ll get your bandage wet.”

He snapped the glass shower door shut, being careful not to stress his shoulder. With her tipped back in his arms, he covered her protesting mouth with his.

Shell responded fiercely, turning on his lap to face him, the water streaming down her back. With her knees at his thighs, she returned kiss for kiss, and he forgot all about their power struggle.

“This is happening kinda fast,” he mumbled in case she needed a way out.

He untangled his tongue and lips from hers, shaking his head to clear what little logic might be left. He meant to tell her there were bath sheets in the linen closet if she wanted to dry off and leave. He should’ve told her he had an extra bathrobe she could wear while her clothes dried in the dryer. He wanted to remind her he was flawed, that he’d made unforgivable mistakes in his life, but...

He didn’t.

“Not fast enough.” Her fingers skimmed efficiently over his chest and stomach. The glow in those violet depths drew him with every flutter of her lashes. His heart stuttered, skipped a beat, and revved into overdrive.

She traced a lazy line of pure electricity down his belly with her fingernails. “We can stop if you want.”

“No.” His answer came out much too fast. “It’s just that—”

“It’s just that you think too much.” She kissed him less chastely, her tongue tenderly asking, her teeth tugging his lower lip. “You’ll give yourself another anxiety attack, and what will I do then?”

As if in answer, she slid off his lap and stood. Shell unbuttoned her top. Until now, he hadn’t noticed the yellow giraffes and pink monkeys on her navy-blue scrubs. Yes, the scrubs were part and parcel of her OCD-ness, but right then, Gabe didn’t care.