by D. D. Ayres
Though she was much too tired to respond, Shay was very aware of James as he bathed her. She absorbed the careful passing of his hands over her body with pleasure. She luxuriated in how tender he was as he shampooed the blood from her hair while keeping the water from soaking the bandage on her brow. The feel of his strong fingers working the washcloth as he soaped her shoulders and back and then her breasts and stomach seemed to smooth out some of the pain of the many scratches.
Too tired to do more than follow his instructions, she braced her hands on his shoulders and balanced first on one foot and then the other on the edge of the tub as he washed her legs. His touch was impersonal but thorough.
They didn’t talk. Yet she was vibrantly alive to the emotions running beneath his surface calm. Fully aware of his tenderness, and of a barely contained anger he didn’t voice but she knew would remain a good while. He had failed to protect her. That was all he’d said to her about the ugly volatile feeling. The misery in his eyes made her want to cry for him. But she wasn’t ready to carry that burden yet. Maybe she wouldn’t need to.
He stopped every so often and just held her for a moment.
He hadn’t undressed. His tee and pants were soaked by the time they were done but she supposed he was letting her know without words that this was not an erotic encounter. He understood she was much too exhausted in body and spirit for that.
She would have to give a statement to the deputy, the state police, and the fire department before she would be allowed to head back to Raleigh. But all that could wait until the morning.
She didn’t need the look on James’s face each time their eyes met to tell her how lucky she was. But she had survived. And nothing was wrong with her that time, sleep, and peace wouldn’t cure.
When he was done washing her, he toweled her down until her skin tingled and quickly ran a comb through her hair as she sat on the commode. He had brought in a medic kit from his cruiser. After checking the bandages on her arm and brow to make certain they were dry, he applied antibiotic and new bandages to the minor cuts and abrasions the emergency room staff had not bothered to dress. She wondered briefly if taking care of Bogart had made him such an efficient groomer, but she was too tired to tease him about that. He produced a tee from his duffel and dressed her in it before tucking her into bed.
Maybe she said thank you. And maybe she went out like a light. What she remembered was that sometime later, he slid into bed beside her. And Bogart, who’d kept watch over the whole bathing routine, slept at the foot of the bed.
She felt safe. Cherished. And happy.
* * *
“You’re beautiful.”
“I’m a mess. I have a black eye, a bruised chin, and five stitches above my eyebrow.”
“You’re beautiful, anyway.”
James leaned over her and kissed her very lightly, afraid that even the pressure of his lips might be too much for her bruised body.
They were in her bedroom, in her bed. It was late afternoon. She’d slept away most of the day while he’d been in and out.
After her interviews with law enforcement the day before, James had wrapped her up in two blankets, buckled her into his cruiser, and brought her back to Raleigh. She didn’t remember returning to her apartment, or really much of the rest of that day. She slept and ate a little when he pressed her, and slept again. Bogart, who evidently had been put on guard duty, never left his post at the foot of her bed.
This afternoon, she’d awakened to late autumn sunshine slanting in through her blinds and felt, well, close to normal.
James told her everything he had learned from Jaylynn, and what he had pieced together on his hellish drive from Charlotte to Raleigh, and then up to Gaston Lake.
When he was done, she filled in what he couldn’t have known.
Other than to ask for occasional clarification, he listened to the story of her ordeal at the cabin without comment. But the expression on his face told a different story. It was by turns stern, and sympathetic, and more than once she glimpsed his quiet anger surge into a white-hot rage that frightened her. No one had ever been that angry or hurt on her behalf.
When she reached out for him, he pulled away a little. She saw it in his eyes, the emotional retreat, and wondered.
“I failed you.” Judging by his expression, that was the most difficult sentence he’d ever uttered.
That’s when she understood. And it nearly broke her heart. He was shouldering responsibility, blaming himself for things he might have done differently when it had been impossible to know everything that was going on.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me.”
She watched him struggle with her gratitude, shadows of doubt darting in and out of his sky-blue eyes. “Without you, no one would have come to look for me for a long time. You came, even after I told you to stay away. You saved me.”
He blinked first. And then he pulled her toward him, kissing her with all the warmth she could ever hope for. When he let her go, she knew that once more, the hurt and pain was in her rearview mirror, and this time it was receding fast.
“Pizza?” Shay said suddenly.
James laughed. “You have me in your bed and you want pizza?”
Shay smiled. “Fill me up with pizza and I promise to think of a really nice way to repay you.”
He wasn’t gone long but he returned with more than pizza. He tossed a copy of the day’s newspaper on the bed. “Check out the headline.”
“Bank Executive Dismissed for Misuse of Funds.” Below the headline was a picture of Eric Coates. The article stated Eric Coates had been fired after an employee—not her name but another woman’s!—accused him of sexual harassment. It went on to say that during the initial investigation other concerns had come to light, including misappropriation of bank funds, as well as other instances of violations of bank ethics. The matter was being further explored to determine if legal action should be taken.
James tapped the picture. “You know anything about that?”
Shay met James’s inquisitive stare with a sly smile. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you everything that happened while you were gone.”
She related her last confrontation with Eric. And how she’d decided to risk everything and take her accusations of sexual harassment and misconduct to the bank president, Mr. Cadwallader Jones. To judge by the article, either her accusation had caused someone else to come forward, or Cadwallader Jones knew more about Eric’s activities than she thought, and her accusation was simply the catalyst to oust Eric.
By the time the only things left in the pizza box were crumbs and a smear of sauce, the subject had turned once again to Shay’s more immediate worries.
“I can’t believe I burned the cabin down.”
“It’s not a complete loss.” James pulled a string of cheese off her chin and ate it. “The living area will need a lot of repair. But the fire didn’t take the roof.”
“Small comfort. The contents are ruined. I have no idea how I’m going to repay my uncle and aunt for the damage.”
“We could rebuild it for them.”
Shay didn’t dare look at him. Her emotions were too close to the surface. “You would help me do that?”
“Yeah. It would give us something useful to do while we argue.”
The tears came quickly, spilling out over her lashes.
James put an arm around her, surprised that she should break down now, but pleased she had turned to him instinctively for comfort.
After a moment, Shay pulled back so she could meet his gaze. She didn’t ask the question forming in her thoughts but stared at him because the answer was already there in those blue eyes. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“You’re sure?” Okay, the woman in her needed to hear the words.
“Shay, I owe you—”
Shay put out her hand to stop him from speaking. But the moment her fingertips touched his lips a frisson of em
otion raced through them to travel deep inside her. She took her hand away. After all they’d been through, he was what she wanted most.
After only a second, his sky blues crinkled at the corners and his mouth lifted in a smile. Enough said.
For the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of the future. She didn’t want to hide anymore.
She brought his head down for a kiss at the same time she arched up under him so there would be no mistake about her intent. She wanted to be Shay Appleton, completely open and alive with lust and love and tenderness for James Cannon.
“Your head and body,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Hurt like hell,” she whispered back. The words vibrating on their lips were sexy as hell. “Make it better.”
His lips spread in a smile on hers and then he deepened the kiss.
They kissed for a long time, trading happy little intimate chuckles as they learned what sort of kisses were fun, and which were even funner.
She liked the way his hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms. It was much like when he bathed her. Only this time, there was heat in his palms and an urgency in the curl of his fingers. She practically purred when his hand moved to her waist and slid up under her tee. Her tummy quivered under the stroke of his fingers, and then he reached higher, tracing the curve of ribs in a lazy back-and-forth that rose higher and higher. Yet he was very careful not to press too firmly or move too roughly.
The shuddery sigh she let out broke their kisses but not their concentration.
His hand moved over her so carefully she finally grabbed his neck. “I won’t break.”
“Want to bet?”
She met his eyes, just inches away, and saw a smile of mischief.
She grinned back. “Do your damnedest.”
He palmed one breast, using his fingers to tease the nipple. And then he moved over her, his hand dragging the edge of her tee up to give him access. He tongued her nipples until they stood shiny wet and hard, and she squirmed against the sheets.
He shifted again, this time so his hand could slide down into the front of her pj bottoms.
She did not try to be coy, she opened her thighs in welcome.
“Oh!”
She felt his fingers move inside her, slow and easy, his thumb grazing the apex of her folds with each stroke.
Wanting to be as brave and bold, she reached down, pushing her hand into his jeans. He sucked in a breath and she went deeper and found his erection. For a while, each rode the pleasure of the other’s hand.
When she thought he must be a master at holding back, he whispered, “I think you’ve won, Shay. I need to … now.”
A little choke of laughter escaped when he pulled a condom from his pocket.
“What?” He looked at her in doubt.
“You were a Boy Scout, right?”
He grinned. “It’s more a case of hoping like hell.”
He slid into her like silk, if silk were long and thick and hard. Or maybe she was silk. All she knew was that he fit. And the throbbing inside her worked both ways, each stroke a gasp of pleasure and a promise of more.
Taking his weight on his elbows and knees, he rode her with long easy strokes, like swells on a lake, gliding in and up then down and out until his command slipped. Their climax was like dropping down a waterfall, a deep incredible drop where the rush and ripple overtook any hope of staying in control.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“You’re going to love my family.”
Shay dodged James’s smile.
They were sitting in a burger place, eating out for the first time since Shay had recovered enough to go out. James had driven in after work to meet her in Greensboro, where she had come for a job interview. Perry had set it up for her. He said he hated to lose a good employee but she deserved to have a regular paycheck, and the position with the tech company was a perfect fit for her. It was a bonus that it would be an hour closer to James.
“Mom’s already set a place for you at the Thanksgiving table.” He dangled a fry but when she opened her mouth he snatched it back. “And she doesn’t like to be disappointed.” He offered it again, and this time let her grab it in her teeth.
When she had swallowed the fry, Shay sent him a doubtful look. “I don’t know. This all seems kind of fast.”
“My mother has been known to invite complete strangers to Thanksgiving dinner that she met in the checkout line the day before.” He gave her a look that went all over her to pulse in several intimate spots. “You’re hardly a complete stranger.”
She shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of family, right?”
“Three sisters. All married. Nephews. Nieces. The family news is, there’s a new girl on the way.”
“I’m not accustomed to a lot of family.”
“The Cannons qualify more as a horde. There will be so many folks there, they won’t know you’re not related to us.”
Shay swallowed a lump. “It feels early.”
James knew better than to answer that one directly. “You are sort of required to be there because I told my sister Allyson that you make the best fried oysters ever.”
“What’s that got to do with Thanksgiving?”
James looked down and picked up an extra-long French fry, dangled it before her nose. “Nothing.”
* * *
It was possibly the best Thanksgiving meal ever made. Certainly the best Shay had eaten. James’s family seemed to accept her without asking a lot of questions about her past or her family, or anything else she didn’t want to talk about just yet. She suspected James was the reason for that. He told her he had already explained her ordeal, and the reason for the stitches and still smoldering black eye. Even so, she felt conspicuous and more than a little intimidated.
It wasn’t until the pies and cakes were cut that she noticed his sister Allyson staring at her with a calculating eye. Was that because she had finally noticed that Shay and James had been playing footsie under the table for the past hour?
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Shay.”
“Allyson, be nice.” James’s mother flashed Shay an apologetic smile.
“No, we need to establish some things right up front.” Allyson folded her arms. “I’ve heard about your reputation and I don’t care what the family says about being polite. I don’t think I can ignore it.”
Shay stiffened and jerked her foot away from James. “Okay. I know you must have heard a lot about me, not all good.”
“I don’t know about that. What I’m talking about is my brother bragging on your ability to fry oysters. That’s my claim to fame in this family. The best oyster fryer in North Carolina. What do you have to say about that?”
Shay glanced uncertainly at James. Grinning, he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the confrontation.
Shay turned back to Allyson. “I respect your position in your family. However, if we’re talking best ever—”
“Ouch! You’ve been dissed, baby.” Allyson’s husband, Mike, seemed to find this very funny.
“Sounds like a challenge that needs to be met.” That comment came from James’s dad.
Allyson’s two sisters just sat and smiled very satisfied smiles while various other members of the family more or less ignored the culinary challenge in favor of dessert.
Allyson sized up her opponent with the barest hint of calculation. “Tomorrow is Black Friday so that’s shopping and leftovers day. But come Saturday, you’re on, if you’re up to it.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be here Saturday.” Shay didn’t dare look at James.
“Oh, so you’re backing down?”
“No. I’m just saying, I might have to bring in my own oysters.”
“I volunteer to drive to the coast tomorrow to buy gallons of oysters.” James’s father looked remarkably like his son when he smiled like that.
Shay shrugged. “Sure. I’m going to need a few secret ingredients. I’ll get those. And stuff for slaw.�
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“You’ll make hush puppies, too?” James looked very eager for a yes.
Shay glanced down at Bogart who was napping on the floor between their chairs. He had already wolfed down his part of the Thanksgiving meal. “If you promise to keep Bogart out of the oysters this time.”
James grinned. So, Bogart had eaten hers that first evening. She’d offered him what was left, and lied about the fact. She’d been protecting Bogart and looking after his handler, even when she claimed not to even like him. Shay Appleton was a mystery that might never be completely solved. But that was okay. Because he planned on having all the time in the world to figure her out.
“Did everyone hear about James’s ex?” Allyson smiled slyly.
“Now, Ally,” her husband cautioned.
“Oh, but you all will want to hear this. She dropped that lawsuit against our little brother and Shay. Which I say is great news. She told reporters she had been misinformed and regrets any embarrassment she might have inadvertently caused.”
Shay stared so hard at her serving of lemon meringue pie it should have caught fire. Inadvertent. That meant unintentional, unplanned, accidental. Jaylynn’s lawsuit had been the exact opposite.
“Jaylynn also announced she’s been offered a new job out of the state.”
“What’s she going to do?” James’s tone was not a particularly encouraging one.
“That’s the best part. She said it’s with a morning show in Mobile, Alabama. But the girl who does my hair also does Jaylynn’s. She says Jaylynn confessed it’s as a weather girl because she couldn’t find any other openings.”
Shay lifted her gaze to Allyson.
Allyson met it and smiled. “Sounds to me like Jaylynn’s a sore loser liar who needs to get out of town before the truth gets out.”
“More pie, anyone?” James’s mom held out a sweet potato pie.
A little later, when they had a moment alone while washing up, a job they volunteered for, Shay nudged James aside with her hip as she moved to rerinse a glass he’d left soapsuds on.
