Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(53)

He and Agent Lennox were the epitome of respect. He dipped his head the way polite men did when they encountered a lady. “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you, but when I asked you before what was wrong, I meant it sincerely. What’s going on, Shelby? You’re different today. Are you feeling okay?”

Her ears perked up. He said my name again. Wow. Twice in one day.

She cleared her throat and stabbed her glasses up high on the bridge of her nose, determined he not see any hesitation on her part. Nurses were decisive, in-charge types of people. She might be just a CNA, but she would be nothing less than the professional he was. “I’m fine. Did you get the omelet I made for you? Was it okay?”

He scrunched his lips, drawing her attention to his mouth and—every darn muscle below her waist clenched. What is it about this guy? He was nothing but a hick in combat boots, one of those backwoods folks from who knew where.

“Sorry. I got distracted when Kelsey went missing, only she wasn’t. Bet it was good,” he drawled. And that was another thing. Gabe Cartwright had a definite western twang to his rumbling bass, the very last thing she cared to hear. It made him sound uneducated. Lazy. Kind of sexy...

“I’ll make you another,” she offered to get her roaming mind off his tongue and mouth.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll grab something else. May I ask you something, ma’am? If it’s not too personal?”

Shelby shrugged. Nothing had stopped him from bugging her before.

He lowered his voice. “You thought this job would be easy, didn’t you?”

Okay, anything but that. Just because he was in tune with Kelsey didn’t give him the right to jump to conclusions about her. No one needed to think for a second that Shelby Sullivan couldn’t handle a grieving widow.

The self-told lie would’ve worked if the tenderest glimmer hadn’t lit those green eyes of his. There he was, all six-foot-plus tough guy blocking the doorway with broad shoulders, and he was kind and considerate after she’d been nothing but demanding. How could he?

“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t know what to say to her sometimes. I’ve never lost anyone.” And I feel so helpless when she starts crying. I never know what to do.

“All you can tell her is you’re sorry,” he said quietly, as if he’d read her mind. “Losing Alex is something we’re all trying to wrap our heads around. Death is a sucker punch we don’t often see coming. It knocks you down and stomps the hell out of you, but eventually you’ll get back on your feet. Kelsey needs a little more time. She’ll come around.” He paused, his chest expanding as he drew in a deep breath. “We all will.”

Shelby’s eyes filled. How did she not realize until now? Agent Cartwright was grieving as much as Kelsey. He’d lost Alex, too. So had Zack. Darn. The whole house was full of people with real problems, and she’d been awful to most of them.


“I don’t think I can do this.” Her inadequacy and arrogance slapped her down. Maybe all those drawling hicks weren’t as backward as she’d thought. Maybe she was just as bad and sad as those poor people who’d labeled themselves handicapped or divorced. Maybe she’d been the one doing the pigeonholing.

“You’ve all... I mean, you and Zack... I mean, Umm, I’m sorry for your loss, Gabe,” she offered pitifully, using his name the way he’d used hers. I’m sorry for everything.

“Hey.” He claimed her wrist with one big hand, and she was snared. His fingers circled her wrist with plenty of room to spare, but he didn’t hurt her. If anything, he was too gentle. As if he didn’t want to break her. Or scare her.

“Don’t worry about me. Kelsey’s our one and only mission, remember? We’re all here to keep her safe and help her get back on her feet, as long as it takes.”

Shelby nodded. Humility wasn’t her strong suit, but for once she and he were actually communicating. And that hand. He’d tightened his grip enough that she could feel the pad of his index finger placed precisely on the pulse at her wrist. Had he done that intentionally? Did he have any clue what his close proximity did to her heart rate?

“Listen, I need you to do something for me.” He cast a backward glance over his shoulder. His voice had already dipped to rumbling sexy. Any deeper and she’d melt, and darn it, why did he unsettle her? Guys with a redneck drawl and who played with guns weren’t her type, and she definitely had a type. Suave. Educated. Upwardly mobile. Tuxedo dapper. Never military. Or blue collar. Or dog lovers. Or—

God, I am prejudiced.

“I’m taking the dogs back to the river where this all started. Can you keep Kelsey upbeat while I’m gone? Don’t let her look at any more old photos though, okay? Play Monopoly or UNO or something. Bake her a cake. Just don’t let her do anything that will make her any sadder.”

An ember that Shelby had ignored for years flamed into a wildfire. She took a step closer to him, trying to see beyond the light in his eyes. Was he toying with her or was he—just. That. Kind?

“I didn’t mean to make her sad,” she told him honestly, the heat from his body noticeable and—hot. Enticingly hot. Temptingly hot. A whiff of musky men’s shaving lotion struck her nostrils. She nearly lost her train of thought. “I, umm, didn’t mean to make her cry.”