Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(73)

“Okay,” he whispered back. “I’ll hold you to that. You tell me about yours and maybe I’ll tell you about... mine.” Then again, maybe not. Marines didn’t share that kind of crap. War stories were a definite downer. Not meant for civilian consumption. Especially not women. Ever.

“You were injured over there.”

“Lots of us were. No big deal.”

“A transtibial amputation is tough.”

“Nah.” He sucked in another slow breath, clenching his fists over his stomach and biding his time. She really needed to leave. “There’s guys lots worse off than me.”

Like Darrell. Like Maverick. Like everyone who came home in a box.

“There’s always someone worse, but every loss of a limb is still difficult,” she said more firmly. “It’s the same as a death. You need to grieve for the loss of a limb as much as the loss of someone you loved. And I’m... I’m sure sorry, Agent Cartwright. I mean, Gabe. I’ve been, umm, kind of oblivious to a lot of things since I’ve been here. I was so focused on Kelsey and protecting her. Then she went missing. I never should’ve let her out of my sight, and—”

“Settle down. It wasn’t your fault,” he corrected, thankful for the diversion. “She’s not a little girl. You can’t make her behave.”

“I know, but she would’ve been satisfied with toast and jelly that morning, but no. I had to make her my special omelet. That’s why everything went wrong. I had to have everything my way.”

Gabe mustered a small smile. “Like the boot trays?”

“Yes, okay, like the boot trays, but—”

“And the menu schedule?” Focusing on her drew the attention off him. Good thinking, Cartwright. Keep her talking.

Shelby pushed her glasses back up her nose again. “See what I mean? I lost control the second you and Zack arrived, and every time I turn around, things fall apart a little more. How am I going to keep her safe and healthy when you guys are always in my way?”

She asked that more as if she were perplexed instead of angry. Was this the real Shelby finally peeking through? Was she trying to figure him out as much as he tried to understand what made her tick?

Gabe breathed deeply. The more he listened, the more he relaxed until one thing got through his embarrassment. Her hot damned elegant black nightie. Spaghetti straps. Silky thin material that showed her thighs and a hint of her ass. The pink bow curled between very perky breasts. Ribbons trailing down her front.

He shifted onto one elbow to see better. And more.

The skimpy nightie he could’ve dealt with and possibly ignored, but the jiggle beneath it was deliciously distracting. So were the two hardened nubs of her nipples beneath the thin material, all perked up and begging to be touched. Fondled. Licked.

Now she’d done it. He pulled the corner of his bedroll up from behind him to cover his, umm, lap. Running his tongue over his fat lip, his mind shifting to other ways he knew to make a woman happy. This woman.

She lowered her head, peering deeper into his eyes. Closer. Maybe too close for her own good. He didn’t mean to look down her cleavage. But he did. Luscious did not begin to describe the fruit hanging nearly within reach, nor the tender valley between.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Busted. He jerked his gaze back to her eyes. “Yes. Sure, you’re worried about keeping Kelsey safe and, umm...” Damn. What was she saying?

“So? How are we going to work together? I’d like to think we still could. I know I’ve been unreasonable. All I saw at first was two guys in my way. I didn’t realize how much you really cared for Kelsey, both you and Zack. I get it now.”

For the first time, she actually smiled. Damn, her smile lit up the night. Shelby meant well. He’d seen her in action on the riverbank when she’d all but accused the sheriff of not initiating a search fast enough. And her outspoken rebuke of Becker? Ballsy.


He captured her hand on his chest. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“You’re changing the subject,” she murmured, her eyes averted, her lashes fluttering against the soft swell of her cheeks. “And I’m, umm, not exactly dressed appropriately. I got up so fast when I heard you out here that I, umm, gosh. I need my robe. I should go.”

“No. Stay.” He tugged her closer. “Talking to someone after an attack always helps.”

Especially—you. Feelings he didn’t want to admit surfaced with a rush. He lifted the glasses off her nose and set them on the carpet, craving more of her touch.

Shelby’s breath caught. She didn’t remove her hand from his, and she didn’t leave. Instead, she leaned into him. Over him. Closer. Loose chunks of blonde fell over her face as she edged downward.

He shifted his left hand to her waist, then to the small of her back to hold her in place. Easing to the carpet again, he cupped her jaw, his fingers splayed at her neck, the pad of his thumb on her chin. Tremors shivered through her the nearer she came, exciting every last male nerve in his body. A tiny whimper lifted from the back of her throat.

“May I?” he asked, because that was what he’d been taught. Never assume. Always be sure you’re on a two-way street before you rev those engines, son. Once you’re off the line, there’s no going back.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes wide and the sultry color of lavender fields on a dark spring night. She fell those last few inches between them.