by Marie Harte
Shannon smiled. “I thought you guys had known each other longer. You seem like brothers.”
John laughed lightly. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that, but they’ve gotten me through a lot of crap. I’d give my life for either one of them.”
Shannon blinked at his vehemence, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. When he decided to do something, he did it whole-heartedly.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He just looked at her for a moment. “You can, but I may not answer it.”
She took a deep breath. “How were you injured?”
His brows quirked and one side of his mouth tipped up in a sardonic smirk. “Well, we were on patrol and we came across this vehicle that was broken down in the road. We knew something was up, so we parked about thirty yards away and approached it cautiously. It ended up being exactly as it appeared. A broken-down vehicle. When we headed back to the Hummer, though, we were attacked. The Hummer was blown into the air and came down in pieces. A door landed on me, shattered a couple of vertebra.”
Shannon swallowed heavily. His words were flat, as if he had told the story many times, although she had a feeling quite the opposite was true. Her heart ached at the thought of his being injured in a foreign land and coming home to no one. That was so wrong.
They were both quiet for a long time, lost in their own thoughts. The fire spat and crackled merrily, in counterpoint to the heavy overtones in the room. She wondered if John realized how much anger he carried around inside him. It was obvious to her, and she wondered why he even told her about it. Another attempt to connect in some way?
She felt a tug on her scalp, and looked back to find John running a thick curl through his fingertips.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You can,” she told him with a smile, “but I may not answer it.”
John grinned at her as she parroted back to him. “Is this your natural color?”
“Muddy brown, you mean? Yes, it is.”
“It’s not muddy,” he told her firmly. “In the firelight it looks about ten different colors. None of them mud-colored.”
“Thank you,” she said finally. He tugged the loose curl out straight and let it fall, then pulled it out again. Finally, he tunneled his fingers in against her scalp, and Shannon could not help but groan. Nerve endings on her head leapt to attention. “That feels really good,” she told him, and tipped her head to rest completely against the couch.
For several long minutes, he ran his fingers over and under and through her hair. “I have to warn you,” she told him finally, “that if you don’t quit, I’ll be asleep in no time.”
*
JOHN CHUCKLED QUIETLY, and continued to tug and massage her scalp. True to her word, within minutes, she was asleep, her head lolling with his movements.
John sighed and let his head rest on the pillow while he continued to run his hands through her hair. It was soft as silk, and smelled like some kind of fruity confection. Actually, she smelled like some kind of confection. It was a distinctive mix of sugar cookie and ocean. He could tell hours later when she had been in a room, and he always found himself inhaling more deeply, trying to track her down.
Hell, he’d known the minute she entered the living room, but he had feigned sleep for a moment, to watch her. And what a show he had gotten. The thin cotton gown she wore was nearly transparent, and he had seen every delicious curve of her body. The sight had turned him on unbearably, and he had spoken out so she wouldn’t leave. Shannon’s attention was becoming something he required, rather than just wanted.
His background was not something he ever talked about, but he had felt as if Shannon would understand and not pass judgment. It had been a long time since he thought about that period of his personal life, and he’d almost forgotten about his brother until she asked. What had his name been? Jason, James? J-A something. The only clear memory he had of him was when he was playing on the floor. John had had one of those wiggly-eyed rotary phones, and he remembered specifically giving that to the little guy before he was dropped off. They had been in an old blue station wagon, and the kid had been crying in the back. John had handed it over the seat, and gotten out of the car. There had been no goodbye kiss from his mother. She barely even looked at him as she drove away, leaving him on the steps of the orphanage.
What had happened to…was it Jake? No, that didn’t sound right. James, Jamie. That was it. Jamie! What had happened to him when he disappeared? Had his mother eventually gotten tired of him as well, and dropped him off somewhere too? The thought nagged at him for a long time.
Shannon was beginning to slump forward. He sat up and debated what to do. Could he lift her up onto the couch? Did he have the leverage? There was plenty of room for her if he could. John reached down as far as he could, scooped underneath her legs and back, and lifted. Her weight overbalanced him a bit, but once he got her past a certain point, everything straightened out. She hardly weighed anything at all. Hell, the gear he used to carry weighed more than she did. He held his breath and waited for her to waken, but her eyes remained closed. She mumbled a bit in her sleep, but John whispered to her that everything was fine, and she quieted.
John lowered them both down to the couch cushion, Shannon’s head on his shoulder. She was quiet as a mouse, and John felt a little bad about taking advantage of her this way, but he couldn’t help himself. His heart pounded so loud he was afraid the sound would wake her. It had been so very long since he had held somebody against him in sleep. He tried to remember when it had been, but his brain was beginning to slow down. At least six years. There’d been nobody since he’d been in the chair. He wrapped his arms around her belly and pulled her against him. She sighed and melted into him, and his blood headed south. He tried to think generic thoughts to tamp down his desire. If she woke up, he didn’t want her to run from the room in disgust.
Taking a deep breath, he buried his nose in her hair. Just the smell of her turned him on even more. God, what was he going to do with her?
*
SHANNON WOKE UP slowly. She was incredibly warm and content. Somebody had bumped up the heat. With a sigh, she tucked her chin into the quilt and snuggled down.
She woke again a little later.
Eyes squinted, she looked for the alarm clock at the side of the bed, and was totally confused when she saw the fireplace. The fireplace? She was in the living room? Consciousness was returning quickly, and she realized the burning heat behind her was not the cat. It was a hard, masculine chest branding itself to her back. How on earth had she gotten here? John had been rubbing her hair. But she had been on the floor, not on the couch. Trying to move slowly, she turned her head to look behind her.
John’s somber dark eyes regarded her quietly. “Good morning,” he rumbled.
Damn, Shannon thought, his voice was even sexier with that rasp in it. She tried to summon up a smile. “Good morning. Uh, how did I get here?”
“You fell asleep, and rather than let you crumple on the floor, I brought you up here with me.”
Blood crept into her cheeks. “Oh. Sorry ’bout that.” Shannon started to peel back the blanket to sit up, but John tugged her back down.
“Don’t leave just yet. You’re very warm. And don’t be sorry. I enjoyed every minute of it. I actually slept very good with you, which is surprising.”
Shannon eased back down onto his shoulder and pulled the blanket up to her chin. A heavy hand resettled at her waist.
“You don’t normally sleep well?”
“No. Dreams wake me up a lot, like last night.”
“Oh,” she said, inanely. Duh. Shannon felt so out of her depth as she lay here and tried not to breathe. Last night John Palmer was her somewhat friendly boss she had a crush on, but this morning they had stepped over some line. They were teetering, she felt, on the cusp of slipping into a relationship. Which was what she wanted, right? Her heart pounded so loud she knew he felt it.
Looking at the front wind
ow, she saw it was still dark out, so it had to be early.
“Can you fall back asleep after the dreams wake you?”
He was silent for a long time, and Shannon relaxed as she listened and felt his deep breaths. The burning heat from his body tempted her back to sleep as well, and she felt her eyelids drift down.
“Sometimes,” he said finally.
John’s right arm tightened over her belly, pulling her back snug against his front. Suddenly, she was not tired anymore. Shannon’s skin tingled where it made contact with his, and her breath caught as she realized her nightgown had worked up around her hips and she couldn’t feel any clothing on his legs. Bristly hair tickled the back of her knees, and she was hit with a wave of need. How bad was it that a man’s legs turned her on? Instinctively, she arched her back and pressed her bottom into his groin.
John gasped and clenched a heavy hand on her hip. He also could not seem to prevent the involuntary grind, and Shannon was so extremely relieved to feel him swell into her bottom. They had not gotten to the point where they talked in depth about his injuries, so she had had no idea whether or not he could participate in a physical relationship. Even while her body readied itself for him, a corner of her mind cheered that this intrinsic part of being a man had not been taken from him.
And oh, if what she felt could be trusted, it would have been an incredible loss to womankind.
Shannon realized his hand on her hip trembled, just slightly. She peered over her shoulder at him.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
Heavy black lashes rested on his cheeks, and his skin looked ruddy in the dim glow from the coals. He inhaled deeply through his nose, lifted his lids and gave her a slow, sexy smile. All the angst of the week, and the worry, faded away at the sight of the most beautiful expression she’d ever seen on his face.
“I’m totally fine. Better than fine. Just relishing the feeling.”
“I’m very happy for you too.” Shannon could feel a heavy blush work up her neck and into her cheeks. “I worried that you…couldn’t, ahh, do that.”
In mortification, she turned her face away, back to the fireplace. John chuckled softly behind her, and squeezed her even tighter.
“Shannon, you’re adorable. Thank you for worrying about me.”
“I worry about all you guys,” she told him firmly.
“I know.”
With a last glance behind her, Shannon reluctantly slid off the couch. The chill of the room raised goose bumps on her arms. She retrieved the spare blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her. Outside the frosty windows, the sky was beginning to lighten, so she knew it had to be almost six. Time to start the day.
Turning to look at John, she saw he was once again on his back, with his arms folded behind his head. The homespun quilt rested below his pectorals, and Shannon had a difficult time making eye contact, with all the visual candy screaming at her. John’s twinkling dark eyes told her he was not unaware of her problem, and he almost seemed to be…preening. Her eyes flicked south, and she moaned at the erection she could see even under the heavy quilt. It took a monumental effort to drag her eyes back up to his chest.
Clenching her teeth, Shannon spun away.
“I’m going to take a shower. Breakfast will be ready in half an hour.”
*
JOHN CHUCKLED OUTRIGHT as Shannon swept down the hallway, blanket corner trailing behind on the floor. The happiness he felt inside seemed almost out of proportion to the situation. What had actually happened? They had talked, then slept together on the couch for a few hours before he got a hard-on and scared her away.
So what?
So, big what.
For the first time in six years, he had slept with a woman.
Kind of.
And she had responded. That one small arch of her spine had made him feel ten feet tall.
Kind of.
It had made him forget, for one infinitesimal moment, that he wasn’t even six feet tall anymore.
So, where did they go from here? It was obvious there was desire on both their parts, but was it enough? What if he couldn’t perform once he got it up? And if he did get it up, would she expect a relationship? Gratification for the moment was all well and good, but what if the relationship did not survive? The two of them had to work together every day. What would happen if they fell through? Hell, even thinking the word “relationship” gave him cold chills.
The questions chased each other around in his mind for several minutes. Finally, he devoted a small sliver of time to imagining the best-case scenario. But with his limited relationship experience, he had no real idea where exactly it could go. It was not as if he had great role models, either. The only somewhat working marriage he had seen had been Duncan’s parents, Meredith and Joe. They had been together for almost forty years. They still got along fine, and seemed to genuinely care about one another. It was a fact they both loved Duncan. That was very apparent. But John had never really paid much attention to their relationship dynamic.
He reached for his clothes on the floor under the end table and dragged them up beside him as he sat up. Pushing his legs to the floor, John dressed and transferred himself to his chair, then rolled into the bathroom to relieve himself and clean up. By the time he returned, he heard Shannon in the kitchen rattling pans. After checking the security cameras again, he took a deep breath. There was a chance she’d be pissed or aggravated at him for taking advantage.
John rolled into the kitchen and parked himself at the open spot at the table.
Shannon glanced at him as she moved about the kitchen. Within a few seconds she brought over a cutting board with two big potatoes on it.
“Would you slice those for me?”
John stared in bemusement as she retreated. Nothing made him angrier than people who wanted to do everything for him. Women who looked at him in pity as they held a door open for him really pissed him off. Or men who smirked as he rolled into the handicapped stall of public restrooms. Why couldn’t they keep their noses to themselves?
Shannon, on the other hand, had never treated him as if he were disabled. Not once. Several times, he had held the door open for her, not the other way around. Although, he did concede, she had held doors for him on occasion.
It surprised him that he only just now thought of that. She had opened doors for him. Why did it bother him when other people did it, but not Shannon?
Maybe because she treats you as an equal, not as someone who has to have the door opened for them.
“Come on, John. I need those potatoes.”
With a wave of his knife, John quit daydreaming and started peeling.
*
THEY DIDN’T GET as much snow as was predicted, though there was some to shovel Monday morning. The storm had moved slower than expected and would arrive later in the day. Shannon scraped the ramp and walkway clean while John watched. Actually, he glowered from the front porch.
At the driveway, she used a broom to clean a path to the driver’s side of his pick-up. She assumed she would just ride with him today. She stomped her way to John, trying to knock as much snow from her boots as possible before she went inside.
John looked thoroughly pissed when she stopped in front of him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, winded from her exertions.
He didn’t say a word, just turned and rolled into the house. Confused, Shannon followed him. “What?”
“Nothing Shannon. Just…nothing.”
Shannon pulled off her snow boots and shoved them in the closet. Obviously he was pissed that she was the one shoveling snow. Well, he’d just have to suck it up, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to go anywhere.
Shannon didn’t say anything, just walked to the bedroom to change into her work clothes. She needed to get into a different frame of mind.
Chapter Five
‡
WORK WAS DIFFERENT that day. All the guys on shift came to her to tell her they had her back, and if she needed anything to
let them know. It made Shannon’s heart warm with gratitude that they would tell her that.
Then Duncan told her there would be no charge for any of the services rendered.
“You’re part of the family,” he told her. “I wouldn’t charge my little brother for anything.”
Shannon almost cried. Instead, she just hugged him.
“Don’t get too excited,” he warned her. “We need to have a meeting, and we’re going to have to dig into what happened years ago.”
Shannon nodded that she understood. Whatever it took to be done with this mess.
John disappeared as soon as they came in the door, and she didn’t see him for several hours. Which was fine. By the time this was all over, they would probably be sick of each other. But she couldn’t help but glance up every time she heard a sound in the hallway or office.
Lunch was a mediocre affair in the break room. Chad came in and sat with her to eat his own sandwich, but they avoided talking about Michael or anything that had gone on. He did tell her about the group of them going to the bar, and Zeke talking to a girl.
“Did he really?” Shannon was impressed.
Chad nodded and told her they planned to go again next Saturday.
“Good, you all need to get out and be social.”
When two o’clock finally rolled around, she was nervous and anxious to be done with the meeting. Then she was angry at herself. They were just trying to help her.
Duncan had papers spread across his desk when she walked in, and his computer had several different screens up and running. He hung up the phone when he saw her.
“Hey, Shannon. Have a seat. I just called the other two in. They’ll be here in a minute.”
Chad came in first, with John bringing up the rear. Shannon tried really hard not to stare at him too long, but it was obvious he noticed. His eyes flared with something hot before he looked away and guided his chair to the other side of Duncan’s desk. Chad handed Duncan a file folder, then sat down in the chair beside Shannon. Patting her knee, he smiled his charming smile.
