Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(29)

“You aren’t the only one who watches the Discovery Channel,” he said, heading toward the break room. “And since we aren’t in Australia, either you are mistaken about the kind of bird you are out to protect, or you’re lying.”

“Does it matter, since you are going to bring me the water anyway?”

Nope, he thought, looking down at the water he was snagging from the fridge, he guessed it didn’t. If getting her water meant getting face time, he was game.

“You need anything else? Coffee? Tea? A stale doughnut?” he deadpanned.

“You got any tuna?”

“Uh.” He searched though the plethora of to-go boxes, bags, and Tupperware, switching shelves when he got to one that had green fuzz growing up the side. “No tuna, but . . .”

He looked at his sandwich on the bottom shelf, the one he’d spent a good thirty minutes of his morning perfecting, covered in bacon and grilled peppers and a little apricot jam. The one he hadn’t had a chance to eat yet but had been thinking about all day. God, he was hungry.

Then he pictured Shay being carted away in an ambulance for taking an impact from twenty feet up and sighed. “I have a chicken sandwich.”

“It might work.”

“I’ll bring the sandwich,” he said, feeling as though he was making progress. “But stay out of the damn tree.”

“See you in a bit. Oh, and Sheriff, be sure to use those stealthy moves they teach you at sheriff’s school.”

She hung up before he could explain there was no such thing as sheriff’s school.



Twenty minutes later the sun was beginning to set behind the hills, casting a beautiful orange-and-pink glow over the valley, when Shay had nearly given up. Not on the furry male, who was stubbornly perched at the top of the tree, eyeing her warily, but the sexy straitlaced one next door.

Reaching for a low-hanging branch she’d been eyeing since ending the call, Shay sent up a quick prayer, chanted “Mind over matter” three times, and gave a little jump.

Her feet left the ground, the air left her lungs, and she reached up and grabbed on—for dear life.

“Mind over matter my ass,” she said because all that mattered to her mind was that she was one step into climbing a really big tree. And really big trees led to really big falls.

She hung for a long moment, waiting for the dizziness and shortness of breath to stop. When it didn’t she closed her eyes and, palms sweating, repeated a quick prayer her mom had taught her, then hung for a little while longer while she recited it again. Just to be safe.

Opening her eyes, Shay swung her feet over to the trunk, ready to walk her feet up it when the gravel crunched behind her.

Shay looked between the branches as Jonah hopped the fence with the graceful ease of a man who knew how to handle himself—in any situation. He walked toward her in low-slung jeans, a blue T-shirt that did amazing things for his chest, and a brown bag dangling from his hand.

“Hey, Sheriff, where’s your uniform?” she asked, because Deputy Jonah was hot, no question. But Off-Duty Jonah—sweet baby Jesus—that man oozed so much male swagger he could melt the panties off a woman with a single smile. Only he wasn’t smiling—he was frowning.

“What happened to staying out of the tree?” he said, sounding grumpy, which was completely ridiculous because if anyone had the right to be grumpy, it was her.

She dropped down, relieved to be back on solid soil. “I think it took a vacation with your ability to ask politely.”

There was a long moment where Shay expected him to toss back some witty retort, but he looked her in the eye, serious and intent, and in his most sincere voice asked, “Shay, would you vacate the premises?” She raised a brow and he added, “Please?” but sounded put out about it.

“Thank you for asking so politely, I know that was hard for you.” She walked over and patted him on the arm. Then, gifting him with her brightest smile, snatched the bag from his hands. “But, unfortunately, I can’t.”

Jonah grumbled something under his breath that sounded oddly close to “a pain in my ass,” but Shay was too busy digging through the peppers and lettuce to find bits of chicken and bacon for her kitty trap to pay much attention. Although she did get an impressive view of said ass when he turned around to look at the sky and mumble some more. A completely pain-free experience on her end, since his ass gave a solid showing. Not that she mentioned it, since she didn’t think it would help his mood any.

“What are you doing with my lunch?” he asked.

Shay turned at the closeness of his voice and gave a little squeak when she found him standing right behind her. Arms over his chest, jaw tight, he watched intently as she destroyed what appeared to be a very impressive sandwich.

She, on the other hand, watched the play of muscles on his arms, his very long arms, and muscular legs that would come in handy to a damsel in distress.

Shay looked up at Kitty Fantastic then back to Clark Kent. She would rather die than be considered a damsel, and she had given up being distressed a long time ago, but the man had leaped over the fence in a single bound.

“I’m making a kitty trap for Kitty Fantastic.”

“Kitty Fantastic?”

Shay shrugged. “I think he is the lost kitten to my litter.”

“Which you’ll be keeping where?” Jonah gave her an assessing look. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”