Illegal Procedure (Fair Catch Series, Book One)

by Christine Kersey

  Determined to have a tall glass of water—she didn’t even care if it was cold—she walked into the kitchen, her ears attuned to the sound of someone else in the house. When she heard nothing but silence, she rummaged through the cupboards in search of a glass, although she was prepared to stick her mouth under the faucet if necessary.

  It didn’t take long to find the right cupboard, and within moments she was guzzling the best water she had ever tasted. Once she’d quenched her thirst, she realized she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and now she was starving.

  It’s not like she wanted to steal, but it’s not as if she could go hunting, or knew which plants were safe to eat, so she really didn’t see how she had any other choice. Pulling open cupboards at random, it didn’t take long in the small kitchen to find where the owner stashed the canned goods and boxes of crackers.

  Trying not to think too hard about her predicament, she took a box of crackers out of the cabinet and ripped it open, then shoved one in her mouth. Saliva flooded her mouth at the wonderful taste. She ate several crackers, then realized she should see if this place had a phone. Not that she had anyone to call, but, you know, just in case she thought of someone.

  Carrying the box of crackers with her, she looked around the kitchen—which is where she assumed a phone would be—but didn’t see one. She went into the living room, and when she didn’t find a phone there either, the beginnings of worry tickled the back of her neck. While she was looking, she took note of the sparse furnishings and wondered who the cabin belonged to. No pictures were on display, which made her think the place belonged to a man.

  So far she’d checked the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The only other room on the main floor was a bathroom, which she made use of, but no phone there either.

  “Guess I’d better check upstairs,” she murmured, although she didn’t hold out much hope that she would find a phone up there.

  Still munching on crackers, she made her way up the wooden staircase, and when she reached the landing she noticed it was warmer upstairs. Fanning herself with her free hand, she poked her head into both bedrooms and the bathroom, but wasn’t surprised that none of the rooms held a phone.

  Fantastic! Now what?

  Shay went to a window in one of the bedrooms and pulled back the curtain, staring outside. The sun had dipped below the mountain and the darkness of the forest had begun to spread.

  No way she was going out there. Not at night.

  Dropping the curtain back into place, she faced the room. As she looked at the bed and imagined curling up beneath the blankets, exhaustion crashed over her. She’d walked for well over an hour in the heat, without water, without food—not to mention the traveling she’d done all day—and now her body demanded rest.

  But first she wanted to take a shower. She stunk.

  Sniffing her armpit, she nodded. Yep.

  She set the nearly empty box of crackers on the dresser, but then the closet caught her eye. Curious if the contents would give her a clue as to who lived there, she slid open the door and took a peek. A couple of coats—large, like they belonged to a man. Several flannel shirts. No women’s clothes.

  It was pretty apparent it was a man’s cabin.

  For good measure she checked the other bedroom, but all it contained was a couch, and a desk covered with magazines—Sports Illustrated and Guns & Ammo.

  Picturing a grizzled old man with a thick beard and missing teeth cleaning his gun as he watched sports, she silently prayed that he wouldn’t show up any time soon.

  With a last look out the window to make sure no one had suddenly arrived, she found a clean towel in a linen closet and made her way to the bathroom.

  The shower stall was surprisingly clean—much to her relief—and after a long, hot shower, she felt like a new woman. After drying off, she wrapped the towel around herself and went into the bedroom where she opened the window to let the cool night air in.

  After bandaging her scraped knees and tender palms, she put her clothes back on, but put on one of the flannel shirts from the closet instead of her shirt, then she climbed under the covers and immediately fell asleep.

  Two hours later a bright light penetrated her closed eyelids, startling her awake. Someone had turned on the overhead light. Heart racing, Shay froze.

  “Who the heck are you?” A deep male voice demanded.

  Chapter Three

  Holding back a whimper of fear, Shay kept her eyes squeezed closed against the bright light. Who was standing in the doorway? Had Will found her? But it didn’t sound like Will’s voice. Holding the sheet tight against her chest with both fists, she blinked until her eyes had adjusted to the light. When she was able to look in the man’s direction, she braced herself to see a grizzled old man with missing teeth and a gnarly beard. Instead, she saw a man who was quite the opposite.

  Tall and broad, he looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe six years older than Shay. He had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, and his tight t-shirt emphasized his ripped arms and chest. Tattoos snaked up one arm, and when she lifted her gaze to his face, she nearly caught her breath. He was the hottest man she had ever seen. Short dark hair, perfectly shaped mouth, and a strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble.

  “I asked you a question,” he said, his gaze lasered in on her, his tone furious.

  “I…I’m Shay.” It came out almost like a question. Memories of Will losing his temper and punching her crashed over her, making her tremble with fear.

  “And what the hell are you doing in my cabin? In my bed, Shay?” Angry lines creased his forehead.

  Terrified, and not sure how to explain what had happened in one sentence, she didn’t reply.

  “No words, huh?” He took a step in her direction, glaring at her with cold, hard eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to get up and get out.”

  The sheet was still clutched in her hands, and as he made his demand, panic swept over her.

  Was he going to hit her? Maybe she should leave before he had the chance. But where would she go? Out in the dark forest all alone? In the middle of the night?

  He took another step towards the bed and her panic went through the roof.

  What’s he gonna do? What’s he gonna do?

  Pure terror engulfed her and she burst into tears.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” he said as he shook his head from side to side. “No tears, Shay.” His nostrils flared. “That’s not gonna work.”

  Clearly, he was not the kind and friendly type. Not a man who would take pity on her and her stupid situation.

  Paralyzed with fear, all she could do was watch as he strode over to her and ripped the covers from her hands.

  “Is that my shirt?” Lines of disbelief covered his forehead.

  Much to her mortification, her sobbing increased.

  “Well, crap.” Releasing a heavy sigh—kind of like he knew the way he was acting wasn’t helping things—he pulled the covers back over her, flipped off the overhead light, and left the room.

  Stunned by this turn of events, she cowered under the covers, terrified by what could happen next. Was the man like Will, ready to punch her at the slightest provocation? Would he come back at any moment and physically rip her from the bed and throw her out into the pitch-black forest? Or would he leave her alone?

  Staring at the ceiling, her body pumped full of adrenaline, she knew she would lie awake the entire night on high alert for any warning that she was in danger. She’d done that many times before when Will had been in one of his moods. After what seemed like an hour—she been too afraid to take her phone out of her purse to turn it on and check the time—when all remained quiet, exhaustion eventually overwhelmed her and she finally drifted off.

  She woke to rays of the sun slanting in through the open window. From where she was stretched out, the morning looked beautiful. Which meant she could start truckin’ on down the road again. Or maybe the man from the night before could
drive her to the nearest town.

  Her eyes widened.

  Where was the man? Who was he?

  Then she rolled to her side so she was facing the door.

  Wait. Was there a man? Or had she imagined that someone had come in there during the night?

  No longer sure if she’d dreamed him or if he was real, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She crept to the window and peered out, but it overlooked the area behind the house. Tiptoeing across the hall towards the other room, first she made sure there was no one there, then she looked out the window, which overlooked the road she’d walked in on.

  There was a truck parked out front. The man was real.

  Drawing on her memory, when she pictured the man—who she clearly remembered as being super hot, although rather cranky—her pulse began to race with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

  Knowing there was no putting off the inevitable, she stopped by the bathroom to freshen up, then with her heart pounding, she began the descent to the first floor.

  Only a few steps down and she was able to see into the living room. And that’s where she saw him. Stretched out on the couch, eyes closed, all he had on were his jeans. His bare chest was clearly visible and she couldn’t stop from staring. Sculpted and tan with an array of tattoos, his chest drew her gaze like a hummingbird to nectar. Forcing her eyes to move away from his ripped chest, they wandered a short distance to his muscled biceps. Then they moved upwards to his face.

  He was just as hot as she remembered.

  But she also remembered how furious he’d been when he’d found her in his bed, how he’d demanded that she get out, and how he’d ripped the covers off of her.

  But then he’d put the covers back over her and let her stay.

  Hope that he had a soft side surged through her, and she quietly made her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she paused for a moment to look at him again.

  “Shay,” he said.

  Her gaze snapped away from his naked chest and washboard abs up to his face. His eyes were open and he was watching her.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Frozen to the spot, she waited to see what he would do.

  Never taking his eyes from her, he sat up, then he patted the cushion next to him. “Let’s talk.”

  Terrified, but drawn to him like he was pulling on a string, she slowly closed the distance between them and sank onto the couch beside him. A good three feet lay between them, and as she sat there she faced forward, although her eyes slid in his direction for a moment before shifting to stare at the wall across from her.

  To her surprise, he got off of the couch and hunkered down in front of her, capturing her gaze. It was then that she noticed his incredible blue eyes. Cerulean blue, it was like looking into a cloudless sky.

  He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

  Her breath came out in a gentle rush and she couldn’t look away. Not even if looking away was the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world. But it wasn’t.

  “Shay.” His voice was soft and calm, and she was suddenly desperate to stay.

  Afraid she’d say something wrong and he’d send her away, she didn’t reply.

  His eyebrows rose. “First of all, no more crying, okay?”

  As long as you don’t kick me out. “Okay.” Her voice was very quiet and her hands were knotted in her lap.

  “Good.” He smiled then—the first time she’d seen him smile—and she knew she could very easily fall for this man.

  “Now,” he said, his face serious again. “How is it that you’re in my house, Shay?”

  Every time he said her name it did something funny to her insides. Something she liked.

  Moment of truth. Make it good, Shay. “I kind of got…stranded.” Memories of the day before filled her mind—frightened, thirsty, in pain—and she could feel heat building behind her eyes. She blinked a few times to suppress the tears. He’d told her not to cry, so she wasn’t going to cry.

  “Okay.”

  “I had nowhere to go and I was really thirsty and I saw your cabin.” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “I was…desperate.” The feelings she’d had the day before came rushing back in full force and a lone tear made it past her resolve, sliding down her cheek. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she swiftly wiped it away. “I’m sorry I broke in. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  His eyes were steady on her face and she wondered what he was thinking.

  This chick had to go. Josh didn’t care about her sob story. It was probably a complete lie anyway. He’d heard so many phony stories from football groupies over the years that he’d pretty much heard it all. He had things to focus on. These next few weeks were his only off-time from the NFL, and even then he had to attend a few team meetings and organized team practices before preseason training began. Being the star quarterback for the Sacramento Vipers had become the sole focus of his life, but even he needed time to pull back from the game, to recharge his batteries. And that didn’t include time with a groupie. He didn’t care how innocent she looked, or how gorgeous.

  Kneeling in front of her, seeing those unshed tears brimming in her emerald-green eyes, he almost believed her story. But he couldn’t let himself fall for her baloney.

  He still couldn’t believe she’d broken into his cabin, his one place of refuge. How had she found him? Well, he guessed it wouldn’t be too hard. But the nerve of this woman kind of astounded him.

  He would send her on her way. Pronto. And then he would never see her again and he could focus on working out, relaxing, recharging.

  Still, there was something about her that tugged at him, but he shoved that down. He had no time for that crap.

  Okay, time for her to go.

  Josh drew in a breath and said, “Sounds to me like we have a problem.”

  Chapter Four

  A problem? What kind of a problem? The kind where he threw her out and left her to her own devices? In the forest?

  He moved to sit on the couch beside her, keeping distance between them. Holding her body still, Shay turned her head to see what he was doing.

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, he stared straight ahead, his face a study in granite.

  Worried about what he was going to do or say, she shifted her gaze away from him and to her lap where her fingers twisted together.

  What was the worst that could happen? He would make her leave and she would have to continue walking along the road? That wouldn’t kill her, would it? No, that would put her right back where she’d started. Going nowhere fast. Well, not all that fast.

  Feeling slightly better, but really hopeful that he would take pity on her and help her out by…she had no idea how he could help her out. Still, when she let her gaze slide in his direction and she saw how incredibly good-looking he was, how physically fit, how completely masculine, she was in no hurry to rush off to a future that was a big question mark.

  He leaned back against the cushions, then looked at her.

  Shay noticed this out of the corner of her eye—she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by staring at him. Not if that would make it more likely that he would want her to leave.

  Absurdly, she wondered how she looked in profile. She thought she was reasonably pretty, but if he was looking at the side of her face, did her nose look too big?

  Pausing her ridiculous thoughts, she wondered if maybe she should face him. If he found her attractive, would that go in her favor?

  Unless he had a girlfriend. Then having her around would be a liability.

  She was so busy considering what to do that when he finally spoke she jumped slightly.

  “You gotta go.”

  What? Crap! Crap crap crap.

  Forgetting her quandary over which way to face, she turned in his direction. “Go?” She said the word as if she’d never heard it before. Yeah, she’d been on her way to Reno, but that was just a random destination. She had no ti
es there, no real reason to go there. “Go where?”

  His forehead creased. “How the heck should I know?” He made a scoffing sound in his throat. “Where were you going yesterday?”

  Shay had yet to mention how the creep had dumped her in the middle of the road—in the middle of nowhere. And she wasn’t so certain she wanted to point out that someone would do that to her. Would it make him think she was used to that sort of treatment? That it was something she was okay with? Cause she wasn’t okay with it. Not for a minute. Not now that she’d finally gotten the courage to leave Will.

  As she stared at him, even though she found him beyond attractive, she knew there was nothing he could do for her. And why should he? He didn’t know her. He didn’t owe her a thing.

  She stood abruptly, and when she did he kind of jerked back like he’d hadn’t been expecting it.

  “Will you at least give me a bottle of water or something?” she asked, looking down at him as he sat on the couch.

  “Uh, yeah.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you want a lift somewhere?”

  At that moment she decided she didn’t want anything from this man—a man whose name she didn’t even know. “No.”

  What was she doing? Did she really want to walk? With those blisters? Of course she didn’t. But for some unknown reason—okay, maybe it was her misplaced pride—she wanted to show this incredibly hot stranger that she was an independent woman. That she didn’t need anything from anyone. Least of all from a man.

  His gaze slid to the bandages on her knees. Gesturing with his chin, he asked, “What happened?”

  She didn’t want his pity—besides, the reality would make her look like an idiot—so she tried to downplay it. “Just a little scrape.”

  Then his gaze went towards her foot. Wanting to hide her blisters, she used her right foot to cover her left one.

  His gaze lifted to her face, then he stood. That was when she realized how big he was. He must have been six foot two. She was five foot six, so not exactly a shrimp. Even so, he towered over her. And did she mention how broad his shoulders were? Yeah, broad and muscled. She nearly swooned.