by Tiffani Lynn
The tears and snot flow down my face and drip on the floor as the reality of what happened sets in.
I have no idea how long I’ve been on the floor when the screen door squeaks and the car the Costa men pulled up in peels out down the dirt road.
“Shay.” Paxton’s voice is gravelly and pained.
I glance up to see how badly he’s beaten up. It’s not too bad. Probably a black eye, split lip and some bruises, but the look in his eyes has me refocusing on the floor again.
“You knew.” My voice is quiet and small.
“I’m sorry. I just found out. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you once I realized you didn’t know either, but I didn’t want it to affect what we’re building here. We’ve got something special, Shay. I don’t want the mistakes of my parents to ruin the happiness we can have.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course you don’t want the mistakes of your parents to ruin this. But you’ve got to remember I didn’t leave hell to find the perfect family, grow up in a happy home and get a fabulous career. No. Your parents took my happy home and my future from me, probably because we had you taken from them.”
“Don’t let them steal any more from us,” he pleads as he gets on his knees close to me on the floor.
“How can I look at you every day and know that because of you I lost my family? I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
“Shay…”
Shaking my head and keeping my eyes averted, I say, “You need to leave. I can’t deal with you being here right now.”
Not one single muscle moves on either of us. We are both frozen, afraid to move. I’m seconds from having the most spectacular meltdown I’ve ever had and I don’t want him for it.
“Sh—” he tries.
“Get out!” I screech at the top of my lungs.
Without another word, Paxton Pearsal stands and gathers his stuff from around my house and quietly lets himself out. As his truck pulls out of my driveway I let out a cry. It’s a sound I’ve never heard myself make before. It’s probably the sound of the rest of my soul dying.
Eight
Paxton
Days have gone by and she hasn’t come out of that house. I know because I’ve sat and watched almost the entire time. I ate some granola bars and slipped away for water and to handle bodily business, but otherwise, nothing. I would’ve worried she was dead in there but I did some recon last night and found that she’s moved places and even had the television on at one point.
For now, I’m going to have to settle for breathing in and out, being alive physically, because I feel dead inside. I have to fly back to Cali tonight and then right back to South America. My SEAL team is being deployed again. I’ve got several more months to go and I guess this is the best way to spend it, buried in a mission.
Although I’d like to tuck tail and run, re-up and go ahead and make a career of it now that my hope for a future here in Florida is trashed, it’s just not in my make-up. I’m a fighter. Always have been. When I get back to Florida I’ll fight to win her over, to show her that I’m worth overcoming the past for. I had no control over what happened to her parents. As much as I’d like to blame myself, I was a kid. If the Baird’s didn’t intervene I would have been dead within a year. My parents’ hate of me grew worse the older I got and the beatings were becoming too much to handle. Besides, I remember her parents. They were good people and I know they wouldn’t do things any different, even knowing the outcome, because they saved the life of a little boy. They were those kinds of people.
Since it’s going to be a few months until I can get back, I’ve got Wade and Hudson on duty watching out for her. They’ve been briefed on the whole Costa situation and our falling out. She may not know it, but she needs someone to look out for her. Those Costa guys were just dying to get me out of there so they could find a way in with her. That’s the only reason they told her about my parents. I don’t trust them, and I figure they will use whatever means are necessary to get what they want.
Nine
Shay
It’s been three weeks since Paxton left my house and I can barely drag myself out of bed. When I’d had the last handful of dry cereal in the house I finally made myself go to the store and even that was a chore. My head is so messed up with everything that I even thought someone was following me through the store, but every time I turned around there wasn’t anyone there. Maybe I need to call my old counselor and set up an appointment. I don’t want to turn into the lady who went insane after she suffered one too many emotional blows. But I feel like I’m on the verge of that scenario now.
When I get home and am unloading my groceries I hear gun shots in the row of brush and trees that separates my property from Paxton’s. Instead of hiding like I should, I run to the door, snatch my shotgun up, and step outside with it up to my shoulder, ready to shoot. “Who’s out there?” I yell.
No response.
“Who’s out there?” I yell again, louder.
There is a rustling near the path we used for Paxton’s house so I aim in that direction and wait. Five men appear, three of whom are struggling to get free of the other two. I squint into the dark, trying to figure out who these people are and what the hell they’re doing here.
“Shay, it’s Mike Wade. We met at the Lobster Lounge with Paxton Pearsal,” says the guy in camouflage gear and face paint who is holding one of the other guys. “This is my partner, Hudson.”
Another guy—this one a muscled beast of a man—wearing camouflage and face paint and holding two guys, nods and murmurs, “Ma’am.”
Mike continues, “We found these guys with gasoline and lighters on your property. They were hired by Costa Petroleum. I need you to call the sheriff. Tell him Hudson and I are here but we need him ASAP.”
My mouth is hanging open because I have a million questions, but what he just said stuns me.
Gasoline?
Lighters?
My property.
They were going to torch the place and I would’ve lost everything. Normally at news like this I fall apart, just like I did on Paxton a few weeks ago. I shut down and hide, but this time fury spreads throughout my body in a tidal wave of crazy and I drop the shotgun, leap off the porch and head straight for the men being held. Everything that’s been pent up for the last 15 years comes out in a cat-scratching, screaming frenzy of lunacy in the form of a 120-pound redhead. It doesn’t take long for Mike to get me under control and keep hold of his guy.
“Calm the fuck down! I can’t hold you both. Go get your phone and call the sheriff. I don’t have the extra hands to do it.” His tone snaps me back to reality and I stop struggling in an attempt to be free and return to killing this guy with my bare hands.
“Shay, get inside and make the call!” Mike demands.
I back away a little, not taking my eyes off them. “Um… O… Okay.” I just charged a couple of large, thuggish grown men, thinking I was going to tear them limb from limb. I’ve officially lost it. I turn and skitter up the stairs into the house to make the call. Once that’s done I step outside and find that all three men are face down on the ground with their hands zip-tied behind their backs. Mike and Hudson are standing over them with their guns pulled.
“He’s coming. He said to give him 15 minutes.” My voice is shaky and I’m certain that my adrenaline is dropping so I sit on the top step and stare at all the men in my driveway, wondering how my life ended up so crazy.
The sheriff shows up in less than 10 minutes with several deputies right behind him. He must have been flying. I don’t move while he talks to Mike and Hudson. When they’re done talking and the Costa guys are loaded up in the police cars, the sheriff comes to check on me. I do my best to assure him I’m okay. Mike sits down next to me and watches the cars all pull away.
“Tomorrow you’ll need to go to the station to file a report and answer some questions, okay?”
I nod and then turn my head to face him so my cheek rests on my arms. “How did you end
up out here?”
“Paxton hired us to watch out for you. He was afraid the Costa guys weren’t going to take your no for an answer and it turns out he was right. They’ve been sniffing around since he left.”
“He hired you? For me?” I ask, perplexed.
“In case you haven’t figured it out, that man is in love with you.”
“I don’t think that’s true. We had a nasty fight before he left. We have history.”
“I know. He explained it. I don’t know Paxton very well yet, but I know that a man like that doesn’t spend the kind of money he’s spent to keep you safe on just any woman. She has to mean something to him.”
“When does he come back?”
“I don’t know if he is. He mentioned reenlisting since he had nothing to come back for, but he wasn’t certain when he left.” He pulls his card out of his wallet and passes it to me. “Call us if you need anything. I should get going. Summer flies back in tomorrow morning and I need to be rested up. Take care.”
He stands and jogs toward the woods he came from, where Hudson is standing waiting for him. Right before he disappears, he turns back to me. “If he comes back, don’t let him slip through your fingers. You won’t find another man like him.” Both men wave and vanish down the dark path.
Guess I have some thinking to do.
Ten
Paxton
Twelve weeks later…
Getting out of the Navy was the right thing to do. I need to start looking at my life in the long term. The plan is to go back and fight for Shay. If I hang in there long enough, maybe she’ll come around.
Because I stopped cleanup when everything went south with her, I’ll be returning to the tent and more work. I’m definitely going to plow that place down though and start over. I don’t want any reminders of Brenda and Jared.
Turning down the gravel driveway to the house, I see several cars—my mom’s, my dad’s, Ben’s, and one with Texas plates. My sister maybe? What are they all doing here? I didn’t tell anyone I was coming back except Mike Wade and he only met them for a minute when I was last here.
When I put the truck in park and climb out, my family starts to file out the front door. It’s not just Mom, Dad, Ben and Courtney, but also Farris, Chris, Chris’s wife and their little boy, Alex, who all file out the door and stand along both sides of the porch. We haven’t all been together in one place since Chris’s wedding seven or eight years ago.
“What are y’all doing here?” I ask, striding toward them, ready to get a giant family hug that means I’m really home.
“Shay called and said you still needed some help cleaning up.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “Shay?”
“How did—” I start and change questions mid-sentence. “Why did—”
I don’t finish because Shay steps into the doorway, holding a sign that says ‘Welcome Home’ in handwritten letters. “Shay?” I ask, not believing that she’s standing here and that I don’t have to go drag her over here.
“Mike Wade told me when you would be home. I called your mom and asked for help to get this finished, so they all came.”
“You did this?” I wonder out loud as I make my way to her, ignoring my family altogether.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s my way of saying I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Stunned by this turn of events, I stand there, unsure of what to say. I’m really excited, but also afraid this is a dream and I’ll wake up as soon as I touch her. I’ve spent the last three months in hell, both physically—in the jungles of South America—and mentally—worried about Shay.
Courtney’s voice chimes in right behind me. “Kiss her, stupid! She’s saying she’s sorry and she did all this for you!” She gives me a little shove toward Shay and the next thing I know I’m standing within breathing distance of her. Shay’s eyes are wide and unsure. Hating that she feels that way I grab the sign, toss it to the side, and before she can protest I pull her against me and kiss her as hard and long as I can until the catcalls of my family become too annoying.
It’s now dark and because it’s still somewhat summer here that means it’s around nine o’clock. My family left from Shay’s house, everyone waving as they pulled away just moments ago.
“That was the best homecoming I’ve ever had,” I tell her as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to me. “I loved every minute of it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I wanted you to know how happy we all are that you’re home for good.”
“We need to talk. When I left, you wouldn’t even speak to me. We’d had an ugly fight and I need you to fill in the blanks on what changed and what you want from here.”
“Let’s go inside and sit down so the mosquitoes don’t carry us away,” she suggests as she leads me back inside the house. “I’ll grab us drinks and we can talk about all of it.”
Once we’re situated with our drinks and are on the couch, me in the corner with my arm along the back and her sitting close but sideways with her knee cocked so she can face me, I start the conversation.
“After you left, the Costa guys tried to burn me out of the property.”
“What the fuck! I had Wade and Hudson out here! How did they get past them? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Mike and Hudson are the ones who stopped it. They didn’t tell you because I asked them not to. Although, according to them you couldn’t be reached until a later date anyway.”
“I was gone but they could have told me when I got back stateside.”
“Their visit was a wake-up call for me. I started back to counseling and got a bunch of stuff straight in my head. I’m sorry I freaked on you about your parents. Somewhere deep down I think I always knew but no one confirmed it. I never asked. I must have been afraid of the answer. The reality was that the information opened all of those old wounds, letting feelings out I had tucked inside. Losing my family and later my grandmother, who was not just my only remaining relative but my best and only friend, nearly killed me. Many days I wished I would just die so I wouldn’t feel so disconnected anymore. I knew I was wasting the life I had and I knew deep down my family would be disappointed in me. But because of my breakdown in high school and still living in this small town, I didn’t have anyone to support me in getting my life back. I didn’t feel like I had anyone or anything to live for. When you showed up at the creek that day, looking like a movie star and later proving you were still my strong, sweet friend, I started feeling like I wanted to live again. When I thought I lost you, it snapped me out of it. I got in counseling. I won’t lie. I’ve got a long way to go. I finally get it though. You can thank your friend Mike Wade for opening my eyes.”
“So why were you working on my house? Why did you call my family?”
“I knew I couldn’t finish that place alone and I wanted to be able to give you something. I want to give you a future…” She swallows hard before she continues, “I’d love for it to be with me, but even if you don’t want that I still want to be your friend and help you.” Her eyes avert when she says friend. “You can stay here or at my parents’ house, whichever is more comfortable, while they clear the land and you rebuild.”
“You want me to stay here while I have a house built?” I ask to be certain.
She nods her head slowly and chews on her bottom lip.
Leaning forward a little, I push her hair over her shoulder, noting she’s had a haircut recently, and lean in much closer. “Will I be sleeping on your couch?”
She swallows hard and shakes her head.
“Will I be sleeping in your granny’s bed?”
Her chest rises and falls with her breath. She’s nervous as she shakes her head.
I move in even closer so my lips are almost touching hers. “Am I sleeping in your bed…with you?”
“Yes. If you want me.” Her answer is a whisper.
There is no question in my mind that I want her, so I decide it’s time to show he
r. Moving so fast she doesn’t realize what’s going on until she’s already in the air, I scoop her up and carry her to her room and lay her on her bed.
I’ve been with a lot of women over the years. As a Navy SEAL they’ve tended to throw themselves at me, but it was always fast and furious. Obviously only there to take care of our needs quickly. I’ve never had someone in front of me who meant the world, who needed my patience and attention like she does. Never anyone I wanted to worship with my eyes, hands, mouth and cock all at the same time. Her heavy-lidded gaze follows me as I round the bed and slide on next to her. Lowering my mouth to her, it only takes a few seconds for things to heat up between us. Her legs shift restlessly against the mattress when I push her shirt up over her breasts and tug the right cup of her bra down, exposing the dusky rose nipple beneath the fabric. When my head lowers and my lips make contact, her fingers slide along my scalp and dig in a little. She likes this. I relentlessly tease the peak with my tongue and teeth and switch sides when her squirming becomes more aggressive.
My gaze lingers on her longer than I intend when I catch sight of the I’m-ready-for-you look she’s blazing into my skin as I continue her torture.
“Sit up, honey. I want that shirt off. Need you bare.”
Shay doesn’t hesitate; she peels her shirt off and tosses it carelessly to the floor, followed by her bra. I grin at her devilishly. Her breasts are the perfect handful I thought they’d be when I saw her swimming in the creek a few months ago.
As I concentrate on giving her breasts plenty of much-needed attention she tugs on my shirt. “If I lose mine, you have to also.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I sit up and whip mine off and toss it toward hers. Then I yank my shorts off too. Now I’m only in my boxer briefs, which are clearly at the limits of their stretch capacity because I’m so hard for her. When I lean back over her, pressing our bare chests together, she wiggles a little and I slip my hand below the waistband of her shorts and panties, into her amazing heat. She’s so warm and wet, ready and willing.
