Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(35)

“Fine.” The sound of metal hitting a table allowed Shay to breathe, but since the woman gave up so easily she added, “And he better not be tied when I get there.”

She hung up and looked at Kitty Fantastic, who had paused, midlick, to study Shay. She wondered what it would be like to come home and not have all of the barking and chew toys and chaos around her, about how quiet and clean—and lonely—her house would be.

Shay grabbed her jeans off the end of the bed. “It’s not like I have to say yes. I am just getting more information.”





Jonah’s last two calls pretty much summed up his entire week thus far. He responded to a “fight in progress” at Valley Vintage, which turned out to be two elderly residents who liked to get a little “vocal” while “canoodling,” as they called it, then he chased down a punk who thought he didn’t need to pay for his tab. Since the tab in question was accrued at the Spigot, a local sports bar, and consisted of a few drafts and way too much whiskey, Jonah didn’t have to run too far to haul him in.

Exhausted and sweaty, Jonah walked in his front door, dropped his hat and belt at the entry, put the beer in the fridge, his gun in the safe, and headed straight for the shower. Cranking it to scalding, he stepped under the spray and rested his head against the tile wall. But no matter how long he stood there, the hot water beating on his battered muscles, it didn’t wash away that heaviness he’d been carrying around all week.

Hell, carrying around for five years.

He looked up and let the water rain over his face. It had been five years and he still couldn’t move on from what had happened. Didn’t know how and wasn’t sure, even if he tried, that he could.

“Fuck.” Jonah shut off the water and toweled off. Maybe it was karma, he thought, reminding him that he didn’t deserve to move on, didn’t deserve to find peace.

But sitting under that tree, with Shay pressed against him, her soft skin and whirlwind of emotions surrounding him, he’d felt it. One smile from her and his world was set right.

It was strange, the woman was a wrecking ball of chaos, but around her he felt lighter. To the point when he knew the weight of his past wasn’t going to pull him under and he could finally breathe. The soul-deep kind of breaths that made him feel more alive with each one he took.

Rolling his eyes at that thought, he dragged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then smelled the pits and tossed it in the dirty clothes hamper before padding to the kitchen for a beer—or three.

He popped the top and was about to savor his first swallow when he heard a knock. He dropped his head against the freezer door.

Million bucks it was Adam, there to give him shit about not returning his fifteen calls. For a guy who was notorious with the ladies for sending them to voice mail, he sure acted like a little girl when it happened to him.

Not wanting any more grief tonight, Jonah leaned against the counter, savoring each cool, bitter sip. Adam bored easily—this was a fact. The guy was worse than a kid in church when it came to staying in one place for very long. So Jonah knew if he kept quiet his brother would eventually go away.

Only the bell rang. Three times. One after the other in rapid succession. Loud and annoying.

Ding-dong.

And clearly not going away.

Accepting his fate, Jonah swallowed the last of his beer and headed for the door.

Ding-dong.

“Keep it in your pants,” he mumbled as he yanked open the front door.

Shay stood on his stoop looking too good for words in a short denim skirt, a tank top clinging to her chest that warned him PAWS OFF and showed a tantalizing little strip of skin with each sway of her body. She was also covered in enough cat fur to cause acute asthma, her hair looked like she’d been sleeping, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Jonah was in it deep. He knew what she tasted like now, knew what he’d been missing out on.

“Is that you trying to play hard to get?” she asked, taking in his bare chest. There was a teasing glint in her eyes, when she finally managed to look up at his. She’d been doing her fair share of ogling too—and the quirk in her smile told him she liked what she saw. “Because if so, you might want to start off fully clothed. You know, not to give off the wrong impression.”

“I thought you were someone else,” he said, grabbing a work shirt off the coat rack, then realized how that sounded and added, “I bailed on my brother and I thought you were him coming to yell at me.”

“So you’re avoiding him too? Whew, and here I thought it was just me.” Her tone was light and teasing. The rigid way she held her body was anything but.

Yeah, about that. “I’m not avoiding you.” She made a snorting sound that translated into bullshit. “Okay, I was, but not because of the kiss.”

Her smile faded and she put a hand up. “Oh no, we agreed not to talk about that kiss.”

“No, you said we couldn’t talk about the first kiss, the second one is fair game,” he said, loving how her breathing hitched. “And I was avoiding you because it was a tough week and I didn’t want to unload on you.”

Her smile turned to concern—for him. “Is everything okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.

“Right.” She took a step back, sounding disappointed. “Well, I just wanted to give you this.”