Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(66)

Sometime later a soft knock sounded and he opened his eyes. The chair was tipped all the way back, Jonah’s eyes were gritty, and the cat was passed out flat on his back—still in Jonah’s lap. Another knock sounded.

“Hey,” Jonah said, tapping the cat. “Wake up.”

The cat ignored him, dropping his legs to the side to give Jonah full belly access.

Jonah flicked his hands in the universal gesture for move your ass. “I’ve got to move, which means you’ve got to move.”

Like talking to a wall. He gave a little push.

Nothing but purrs.

“Fine.” Jonah lifted the cat and placed him on the floor. The second he stood the cat was back on the recliner, curled up and feigning sleep in Jonah’s spot.

“When I get back you better be gone.”

Not concerned in the slightest, the cat’s tail swished up and back and landed securely over his face.

Jonah padded to the door and opened it, letting out a tired breath. He couldn’t explain it—the woman he’d spent his entire day chasing was right there on his porch and he didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms or strangle her. Both would go a long way toward making him feel better after the day he’d had.

He stepped out onto the porch, and even though the sun had set and night had moved in, the boards were still warm under his bare feet. One look at Shay leaning against the rail, looking out over the street as the breeze teased her hair and the moonlight played off her smooth skin, and Jonah did something he never did.

He hesitated.

First, because her dress, a flowy soft cream that secured behind her neck with a simple bow, exposed the entirety of her back—which meant she most likely wasn’t wearing a bra—and showed off those amazing legs. But mainly he hesitated at the vulnerable way she held herself, as though waiting for the porch to crumble right out from under her. And suddenly Jonah understood what Giles had been talking about.

Being with Shay either made him the luckiest SOB on the planet or would eventually kill him. Slowly and without apology.

“So I take it you’re still hiding, but no longer from me,” he said, walking until he was directly behind her.

“I’m not hiding,” she said, continuing to stare out, then she looked over her shoulder. “I never hide.”

No, she didn’t. Shay might be a lot of things, many amazing and a few irritating beyond belief, but she didn’t have a cowardly bone in her.

“I took the day off to drive to Monterey and get proof,” she said.

“Proof of what?” Although he knew what she was trying to prove. He just wasn’t sure who she cared about convincing. Him or the town.

She snorted. “I’m sure you have a file on me and think you already know the whole story.”

“I know what people think happened,” he admitted. “As for your report, I haven’t read it yet.”

She turned around, those big brown eyes zeroing in on him. “You haven’t?”

“No, I was waiting to talk to you, to hear what the report wouldn’t tell me,” he admitted. “Only you wouldn’t return my calls.”

She closed her eyes and grimaced. “I was so flustered when I left last night, I forgot to charge my phone and it died halfway there.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Jonah. I was getting this.”

She pressed a file, which looked suspiciously like the one he had on his coffee table, into his chest. He didn’t move his hands off the railing.

“You’re going to make me tell you, huh?”

Yup. He’d gone this long without peeking inside that file and had faced down his superiors on her behalf. Damn straight, he wanted to hear the story from her lips. Not the black and white that he’d built his career on, but the full-color version that gave him the context of the situation, the texture of her life in Monterey.

So he remained quiet, patiently giving her the time she needed, but not moving an inch.

“One thing about me is that I hate being played.” She also hated being wrong, but he kept that to himself. “And I got played and it was embarrassing and it broke my heart and instead of going through the proper channels I reacted.”

“Throwing a drink in some guy’s face and grand theft are two different things.”

“I thought you didn’t read the file.”

“I didn’t. I read the morning paper.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, looking at her feet. “I was somehow hoping Estella would realize she’s hurting more than me and convince them not to print it.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that this now went way beyond Estella.

“You reacted, go on.”

“After I turned eighteen I kind of bounced around for a while and somehow found myself in Monterey. It was a big enough city to get lost and small enough to feel safe. I was starting to feel like maybe it was a fit. I had a few friends, a studio by the beach, and a job as a trainer for difficult animals. Then Bruno walked in and stole my heart.”

“You dated a guy named Bruno?”

That pulled a small smile from her. “No, Bruno was a pit-rottie mix and former dog fighter with more scars on his beautiful face than anyone should ever have to suffer through. A lost cause in the rescue world. But Lance had seen something in him and adopted him on the spot.