by Hart, Taylor
She laughed and let him keep her hand. “Under fifty dollars,” she said quietly.
Turning back, he lifted his eyebrows in question.
Wagging her finger at him, she smiled. “Only as a favor to you.”
Scar was walking on air, and he felt like his cheekbones would be sore from all the smiling he was doing.
She had agreed to see San Diego with him!
Chapter 16
That time is mine. Scar’s words echoed in Shayla’s brain.
She hadn’t gotten home until almost nine. After Torrey Pines, he’d insisted on taking her to Oceanside Beach so they could observe the surfers because he’d decided it was important for her to see it first.
When he’d dropped her off, he’d insisted on coming into the house and doing a check before he kissed her good night. Admittedly, it made her feel better to have him do that, though she hadn’t asked for it.
She’d taken a shower and had seen three missed calls from her mother. After calling her back, they actually had a decent conversation about life and what her brothers were up to. It’d been nice to talk to her mom. She hadn’t told her mother about Scar because, well, she just didn’t want the third degree.
Sitting down on her bed, she began looking at her English assignment. She put on her headphones and pounded out three pages. An hour later, she decided she was starving, so she wandered downstairs to look through her cupboards and find something to eat. She paused there, staring at all the new food, and blinked away the tears. It touched her that Scar would do that. Yes, she knew there was an attraction between them. She could feel it. But there was also friendship and goodness. She loved how passionate he was about helping military vets. It was inspiring.
As she got out some salsa and chips, which she hadn’t had in forever, she heard a noise. Freezing, she took in a long breath and commanded herself to relax, but she couldn’t get her heartbeat to slow down. She was fumbling to open the bag of chips when she heard something else—right next to the dumpster.
Thinking of the cameras he’d installed, she rushed up to her room and grabbed her phone, pulling up the app to see the sides of her house. Someone was huddling on the side of her house by the front door, peeking into the kitchen window.
She dropped the phone, her hands trembling. She thought about calling the police.
She called Scar instead.
“Can’t stay away from me, dream girl?”
Her voice caught, and the words died in her throat.
“Shay?” he asked, already on high alert.
“I heard something, and there’s someone by the front of the house.”
He swore, and she heard things moving. “I’m coming. Call the police.”
Hanging up with him, she dialed the number for the police.
Scar arrived long before they did. Actually, he screamed up in his car about two minutes later. She’d gone down and made sure the door was locked. She sat on her stairs, halfway peeking out, and jumped when he knocked on the door. “Shay, it’s me.”
Running down the rest of the stairs, she flung the door open, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was surveying the area like a trained SEAL. He took off sprinting for the side of the house. “Stop!” he yelled.
Her heart jumped in her throat. She froze in terror. Hating herself, she peeked out to see if someone was knifing her gallant prince.
Cop lights appeared, and she saw Scar walk over and talk to them, pointing down the beach. Another officer met her at the door, and she did her best to answer the questions and tell him what she’d seen on the side of the house.
Scar walked over and listened, looking official. Then he added to her testimony, showing them where the cameras were and explaining he was a friend of hers and she’d been feeling like she’d been watched for … He paused to look at her.
“Since last Monday,” she said, clasping her hands together to stop her shaking.
Twenty minutes later, the police were finished with the reports. She and Scar watched from her small deck as they pulled away.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and noticed two things right off. One, she felt so safe with him here. Two, he smelled amazing. She hadn’t noticed before, but now she saw he had on flip-flops, shorts, and a T-shirt.
“Were you working out?” she asked him.
He kept her close, stroking a hand down her hair.
She could feel herself trembling. She knew he probably could too, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“I already did. I had just gotten out of the shower when you called.”
She tried not to let her mind go to his chiseled chest, even though she was leaning against it and could feel how defined it was. The obvious strength made her feel safer.
For a few moments, he just held her. With the sound of the ocean in the background, she finally felt herself relax.
The thought struck her that she felt a bit like a child, vulnerable and scared. She felt like her parents had left her all alone and not told her where they were going, like what had happened when she was twelve and she’d come home from a friend’s house to find everyone gone.
“Spill it.”
Ignoring the fact he was reading her mind, she said, “Once when I was twelve, I got home and realized my parents weren’t there. I went to my parents’ room. I got in their bed, and I covered myself up to the chin in their blankets.”
“Why didn’t you call them?” he asked, still holding her, now rubbing small circles into her back.
“I did. No one answered.” The memory still left her with residual sadness. Especially right now. “Their phone was dead.”
He simply held her. “I’m sorry.”
She clung to him, hating herself for it. Remembering all of those boundaries she’d set between them and feeling guilty. “It’s so stupid.”
“Don’t feel guilty.”
She pulled back incredulously. “How do you do that?”
The side of his lip tugged up, and his dimple creased. “Because I’m kinda getting in your head.”
He looked so satisfied with himself it made her want to push him away. “I’m fine,” she protested.
“Well, maybe I’m not fine.”
The confession, that he cared so much, seeped into her. It was refreshing.
“How about you come sleep at my place tonight?” he said quietly.
“I …”
“I’ll take the comfy pull-out coach,” he said, cutting off her objection. “But I’m not gonna get any sleep with you here all by yourself and someone out there.”
She thought about wanting to be independent and not be afraid, but the truth was, she was afraid. “I can’t. What about tomorrow night and the next night?” She pulled away. This time, he let her.
Cocking an eyebrow, he didn’t miss a beat. “You stay at my place again.”
The beautiful SEAL is leaving! her mind screamed. She exhaled, realizing she also wanted to protect her heart from another break-in.
He took her hand. “Just for tonight. You stay tonight. Then we reassess tomorrow.” He looked around her place. “I can add more security measures, but I think both of us would sleep better if you came with me.”
Still shaken, she found herself letting him persuade her. “Fine, just for tonight.”
Unlike before, when he’d fist-pumped or acted like he’d gotten a touchdown, he simply nodded. “Pack your stuff.” His lip quirked up. “You can check staying at Hotel del Coronado off your bucket list.”
The idea did excite her, even though it was hardly under the best of circumstances. “Thank you,” she said, and felt her lip tremble. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.” She thought about how she would be terrified and alone and probably going home to Kansas.
“Hey.” He shook his head and pulled her in. “I’m glad I’m here too, but you’re going to be okay, dream girl. You are.”
Chapter 17
Would Scar be lyi
ng if he said he didn’t like the fact that Shayla was lying on his bed at the hotel staring out the window right now? Yes, he would be lying, and he didn’t know if anyone could make him tell that lie. Not even the U.S. government.
As they walked into the hotel, it had amused him how awestruck she looked as they entered the old-fashioned elevator. She’d grinned from ear to ear, and all the worry and pain from earlier had evaporated.
By the time they got to his room, she was acting normal. She’d done a pretty thorough job of inspecting it. After she looked at everything, she asked if she could use the bathroom.
“Treat my room as yours,” he’d said, and tried to be silly about it.
The truth was what he wanted to do was go to the police station and grill them about every perp out there. He wanted to get a pack of his SEAL buddies together and form a perimeter, twist arms and rip off heads until they found the loser who was doing this. But him leaving right now would not help her. At the moment, she needed him. He felt humbled by that. No one had needed him in a long time. Not like this. Of course, she wasn’t the needy type, so it was hard for her. Which was so dang sexy.
Holding up a glass of water, he held it out to her. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“Thank you.” She took a drink and gave it back. “You don’t have to treat me like a kid. I can get water for myself.”
He tsked his tongue and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, putting the water on the side table and trying to relax. “What if I just want to be nice? In case you haven’t heard, I’m a nice guy.”
She laughed and lay back into the pillows. “You are a nice guy. I owe you so much.”
“No.” He didn’t want her to feel that way. “I’m really glad I can help in whatever small way is possible.”
Turning onto her side, she smiled up at him. “I want to ask you something, but I know we’re friends, and I know this may send mixed signals.”
Now, he was definitely liking this. Whatever she thought, he couldn’t help hoping for more, so everything was a signal to him. “What?”
She cringed. “No, never mind.”
“No, tell.” He touched her nose softly.
Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “No, you go in there, and let’s go to sleep.”
“Not leaving.” He crossed his arms. “Out with it, Castle.”
Shayla sighed. “Fine.” Flicking open her eyes, she said, “Would you stay in here, but not in the bed?”
Not waiting for her to continue, he ran back to the couch, grabbed a blanket and pillow, and threw himself and them on the floor. “Done.”
She giggled and peered over the bed at him. “No, sorry, I can sleep on the floor.”
“Not gonna happen.”
She relented. “Okay, but I have to make this up to you some time.”
He hopped up, turned out all the lights, and went back, thinking there was really nothing he’d rather be doing, which made him smile because he was about to sleep on the floor.
They sat in silence as his eyes adjusted to the moonlight. He saw her edge to the end of the bed next to him and drop her arm, reaching out her hand.
He scooted over and took it.
“Sorry, I just hate feeling so vulnerable.”
He smiled, loving the feel of her soft hand in his. “You’re cold.” He sat up, noting that she was beneath the blankets. He thought about how she was young and so far away from home. Was she in shock? “Are you okay, dream girl?”
“Fine,” she said, smiling faintly.
“No you’re not.”
She sighed. “I hate asking this.”
“What?”
“Would you hold me until I fall asleep?”
The way she asked was so childlike and innocent. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel like it was a mixed signal at all. “Of course.” Doing a silly leap, he flung himself over and landed next to her on the bed. “It would be my honor.”
“I don’t want you to think—”
“Shh,” he said, staying on top of the blankets. “I’ll stay on top of the blankets, and I’ll just hold you like this.” He snuggled up against her, holding her in his arms.
It felt heavenly, being here with her, smelling her. Dang it, he knew he was gone. At this moment, he realized he wanted this. Someday, he wanted to be beneath the covers with her. Marriage? Was he thinking that? He thought about how he knew that’s what she would demand of him if he wanted her. Amazingly, he was willing to give it. It was weird.
He felt her relax. She let out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
He hugged her tighter for a moment, then put his head right next to her hair. Man, this was cozy. Forcing himself to not go to the place where he was thinking things he shouldn’t, he focused on being here and protecting her. He focused on the fact that they had more days for him to show her around. He focused on the fact that he was going to do something about her current situation. He didn’t like her feeling so defenseless.
“Pillow talk,” she said softly.
He smiled. Pillow talk would be much more enjoyable here with her than over the phone. “You want me to start?”
“More about Scar Walker, the autobiographical book.”
He smiled. “Okay.”
She said softly, “I want to meet your brother, and I want to go on a whale watching tour.”
Every part of him tensed at thinking of her meeting his brother.
“Please,” she said softly.
He relaxed, thinking to himself he didn’t know if he could very well deny the woman in his arms anything. He was already like soft putty and the relationship had barely started. “Fine.” Steven would rub it in his face, but Scar would do it for her. “More pillow talk,” he ordered, hating the fact he wasn’t in the mood to sleep after thinking of his brother.
She sighed. “Okay.”
“Your turn.”
“For what?”
“Tell me something interesting.”
“What?”
“Tell me something you wouldn’t tell another soul.” Even as he said it, he felt the intimacy of the request.
She didn’t answer for a long time. In fact, he thought she might have fallen asleep. Then she said, “I have all these feelings for you—so different than I had for Jason.” She sniffed. “It’s …”
“Hey. Hey.” He ran his hand down her hair. Was she crying?
She scoffed. “I thought I’d marry Jason. I don’t know if I’ve let go of that dream or not. I mean, being with you has helped. A lot.”
With a pang, he realized he might be the rebound. He really didn’t want to be a rebound. Not with her. Not with all the things he’d been feeling about her.
“I killed the mood, didn’t I?” she asked.
“I guess we are both good at being conversation killers.”
She laughed, turning in his arms.
He pulled back from her and rolled onto his back.
“I guess I’m not so much the dream girl anymore.”
All sorts of thoughts were going through his mind. He filtered it down to the most important: he wanted to spend the next four days with this woman, even if there was nothing after that. “Oh, you are,” he said quickly.
He heard her sigh. “I know that’s—”
“I’m not staying in San Diego, so it’s a moot point. Don’t worry about it.” But he could hear it in his voice. Disappointment.
She scooted toward the edge of the bed. “I think I should just waitress tomorrow. Then you can decide if you really want to take the needy girl around to cool spots in San Diego.”
He turned on his side, propping his head up to look at her. “Nope, you’ve already agreed. You work tomorrow and finish the paper. Then, you’re mine.”
She leaned back into the bed, not saying a word.
Scar was painfully aware that he liked this girl a little more than she liked him and he spent days with her while liking her more. When he left, he missed her. It still wasn’t a bad option. He would take it.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Assessing risks.”
She didn’t reply.
He decided to explain. “In the military and on the field, you have to assess risks with every move you make. Now, I’m doing the same. And I’ve decided that it’s worth being your friend, dream girl. Or even just a rebound guy.”
She laughed. “You have?”
“As you’ve said, I’m leaving. You’re focused and driven and going to get everything you want out of life.”
“You really think that?”
“I know that. Go to sleep,” he said encouragingly.
At first, he could tell she wasn’t asleep. Eventually, he felt her relax, and her breathing deepened.
He closed his eyes and drifted off into dreams about the beautiful woman lying in his arms.
Chapter 18
The next morning, Shayla took orders and got food and thought about the man she’d left sleeping. Her heart clenched. She couldn’t believe what an amazing person Scar was. Everything was changing inside of her, but she couldn’t say Scar wasn’t right about possibly being a “rebound” after Jason. She had loved Jason and dreamed of a future with him.
She stared out at the ocean and folded silverware into napkins on autopilot. Even with all the homesickness, even with the stalking, she did love being in San Diego. Lately, she loved sharing adventures with Scar.
He would be gone in a few weeks. What would she be to him? She thought about the chemistry between them. The palpable chemistry.
Bob came over to her and sat, folding silverware with her. “So talk about the guy who helped you with your car.”
Jerking her gaze to Bob’s eyes, she smiled. “It’s nothing.”
He shook his head. “Hey, you’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see the way you two flirt when he’s in here.”
She knew she was turning bright red. Dang, she hated being so pale.
Bob laughed. “You got it bad for him.”
“No, it’s nothing,” she insisted.
“Yes, it definitely is.”
