To Love and Protect

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To Love and Protect Page 10

by Stacey Joy Netzel


  Shelby: Honestly, Raine, I’m fine—delete, delete, delete, delete—good.

  Raine: This isn’t about your psycho stalker. It’s about your hot new bodyguard.

  Of course she would eventually come around to that part of her earlier pity party. Shelby stared at the words on her screen. Though Dev was leaning against the door frame and nowhere close enough to see them, heat spread through her body as she snuck a glance his way from under her lashes.

  With his eagle eye, that’s all it took to put him on instant alert. He straightened and started toward her. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she exclaimed a little louder than necessary. She jerked up a hand to stay his approach. “It’s just Raine texting.”

  He stopped, his narrowed gaze flicking down to her phone.

  Slightly panicked he might insist on seeing the texts, she blustered, “You don’t have to stand right here like my jailor, you know. You can wait in the living room.”

  It felt like a lifetime before he finally pivoted and left the room.

  Relief flowed through her veins. She blew out a breath and turned her attention back to the screen to tap out a quick reply: Strike that from your memory. I never said that.

  Her phone buzzed again, only this time her cousin’s image popped up on the screen for an incoming call.

  Shelby hurried to close the bedroom door as she answered with a furious whisper. “I’m not discussing this.”

  “But I have this theory,” Raine insisted. “And Celia agrees with me.”

  “You two need to mind your own business.” She crossed back to her dresser and scooped up a handful of underwear and bras to stuff in her suitcase.

  “I think he doesn’t trust himself to get too close. Especially if you consider why the other bodyguard got the boot.”

  Shelby frowned on her way back for socks. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No it’s not. The man couldn’t take his eyes off you last night.”

  “He was watching me because he had to.”

  “Not like that he didn’t have to.”

  Her pulse skipped as she dropped the socks on top her underwear. “Like what?”

  “Like he couldn’t wait to get you alone.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Too bad your theory doesn’t test out. He had me alone last night and acted like I had leprosy.”

  “Because in his mind, it’s a line he can’t cross no matter how bad he might want to. I’m telling you, I’m spot on.”

  “And I’m guessing you’ve been drinking.”

  “Only one glass of champagne—I swear.”

  She snorted her disbelief.

  “I’m serious, Bells. Put on something sexy, and you’ll have him eating from the palm of your hand in no time.”

  Yeah, because that had worked so well the first time around. “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Love you. Good luck.”

  She disconnected and shoved her phone in her back pocket. A quick reach closed the suitcase lid, and she zipped it shut with jerky movements. Mid-lift off the bed, she paused and eyed her dresser. In the very back of her underwear drawer was the nude-colored satin nightie she’d worn back when she was sixteen. The first and only piece of sexy lingerie she’d ever bought. She should’ve tossed it, or burned it, or something, but had never quite been able to bring herself to get rid of it.

  And now it was there. Something sexy. Just waiting to be worn again.

  Would it even still fit?

  Leaving the suitcase on the bed, she crossed the floor and reached for the drawer as her phone buzzed. Because it was easier to check the message than follow through with what she was considering, she pulled out her phone to see Raine’s new text: Seduce that man!

  “Almost done?”

  Dev’s voice from the doorway made her jump. A quick grab saved her phone from tumbling to the floor, and she quickly shoved it in her pocket, her heart racing like mad.

  “Almost. I just want to grab a few more things.”

  Feeling a bit like a pinball, she went back to the closet to pull out a second suitcase for bathroom items and other personal mementos while he took her first suitcase out to the living room. Alone again, she snatched the lingerie from her drawer to tuck in the bottom of her suitcase, under the well-worn afghan Grandma Irene had given her for her sixteenth birthday.

  They each carried a case out to his truck, and a half-hour later they were back at his house.

  A black SUV sat in his driveway, and as Dev parked, she read Brennan Security Services lettered on the door. She didn’t ask, and he didn’t explain as he grabbed both suitcases to bring inside. Shelby had a strong suspicion her father was somehow involved in whatever this development involved. Something state of the art, no doubt. The best money could buy.

  It was nothing to be upset about, but how was it that this was already in motion when she’d made the decision to stay at Dev’s less than an hour ago?

  “Brennan?” Dev called out as they walked inside and he shut the door.

  “Over here.”

  The voice came from near the French doors that led from the kitchen nook to the backyard. A dark-haired man with a close-cropped beard glanced over his shoulder at the two of them. “Hey, Torrez. I’m nearly done.”

  “Make yourself at home,” Dev said to Shelby as he set her suitcases down. “I’ll take care of this while you get settled.”

  He crossed the floor to the kitchen, and when the other guy rose, they clasped hands like they were going to arm wrestle. Instead they pulled in to give each other firm thumps on the back. Shelby snuck glances of their exchange as she hung up her coat before ambling to the kitchen island to set down the baggie of chocolate chunk cookies.

  Brennan stepped back, his gaze flicking to Dev’s legs as his brows shot up. “Wow. Look at you after only three fucking months.” He shot a glance toward Shelby. “Shit. Language. Sorry.”

  She smiled and shrugged.

  Dev rotated slightly toward her. “Jensen Brennan, Shelby Diamond. We served together for six years.”

  Totally explained the camaraderie. Shelby moved forward, meeting him halfway for a polite handshake. “Nice to meet you,” she murmured.

  “Likewise.” Jensen turned back to Dev, hands propped on his hips. “You are fucking Superman.”

  Dev shifted his stance, clearly uncomfortable. “The doctors underestimated, that’s all. You said you’re almost done?”

  The pointed change of subject had Jensen giving Shelby another quick look before turning back to the French doors. “Yeah. Give me five minutes, and then I’ll show you what this bad boy can do.”

  His words overshadowed her curiosity over Dev’s apparently miraculous recovery. They were clear evidence that what had been presented to her earlier as a choice was quickly proving to be nothing more than a placating pat on the head.

  Jensen disappeared into one of the bedrooms, and Shelby planted herself in front of Dev, arms crossed over her chest. “Did you figure you could use a souped-up security system no matter what, too?”

  His brow furrowed until she saw understanding dawn in his eyes. “Does it matter?”

  “Apparently not. I just want you to admit you weren’t actually going to give me a choice.”

  “Of course the choice was yours. Still is.”

  “Um hm.”

  His jaw tightened as he tilted his head, “Do you want to go back to your place?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Do you want to rent a whole new apartment? Or move back home?” He threw his hands up from his sides and stalked over to pick up her suitcases. “Tell me what you want, Shelby, and that’s what we’ll do.”

  “The place is not the issue,” she exclaimed as he stood there with her bags hanging from his grip. “I hate being patronized, that’s all.”

  “I wasn’t patronizing you,” he insisted. “I swear to God, if you had wanted to stay at your place, I would’ve had security installed there, too. It was a
fifty-fifty chance, and going off your reaction last night, I bet on my place first.”

  The words sank like a pit in her stomach. He’d correctly guessed her choice, not made it for her. She stood there feeling like an idiot for making a big deal out of what two seconds later seemed like nothing.

  Dev dropped her stuff and closed some of the distance between them. “I know this isn’t easy on you, but picking a fight with me isn’t going to help.”

  She nodded as she grimaced at her bags. Reminded herself to act like a mature adult, not a child.

  “Shelby.”

  Dev’s gentle tone drew her gaze back to his.

  “Listen, I get it. I know what it’s like to not have a say in something so monumental it turns your life upside down.”

  His involuntary medical discharge from the Army. Her chest tightened at the genuine sympathy in his low voice, and she wanted to hug him.

  “I can’t help that you’re going to be restricted until this is over,” he continued, “but I’m not going to take anything away from you unless it impacts your safety. And, I promise I’ll be straight with you on everything, but you gotta trust me, too.”

  Trust him. That was hard when she was thoroughly confused about so many things. She lifted her gaze to his, her pulse speeding up as a question formed in her head. The question. A swipe of her tongue wet her dry lips in preparation to ask, but then his attention dropped to her mouth, and suddenly he’d taken another step closer.

  The air seemed too heavy to draw into her lungs, and her heart banged hard against her ribs when his gaze locked on her mouth as he leaned in.

  “All right, everything is rea-dy.” Jensen stopped abruptly, halfway across the room. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Dev blinked and jerked back with a muttered, “You didn’t.” His shuttered gaze met hers for a split-second before he turned to his friend. “Walk me through the system so you can get out of here and enjoy what’s left of your Sunday.”

  Chapter 14

  Monday evening, Dev slid sideways when Shelby joined him at the kitchen sink while he washed the pan she’d used to make their grilled cheese and ham sandwiches for dinner. He angled his body to keep her small shoulder from brushing his, but she ate up the extra room by sliding closer as she reached to turn on the faucet to rinse their plates before loading them in the dishwasher.

  He drew in a controlled breath and rested his wet hands against the far side of the sink while moving over even farther. Since she cooked, he was supposed to clean up, but here she was, ignoring him.

  Just like she’d been ignoring him on other shit, too. Little shit. Which wouldn’t be such a big deal, if she wasn’t also pushing him every chance she got since yesterday afternoon. Ever since he’d nearly given in to the urge to kiss her. Thank God for his buddy’s impeccable timing.

  He’d told her to make herself at home, and man, she’d taken the invite to heart, in more ways than one. She was constantly getting too close for his comfort and invading his personal space—always with a valid reason that he couldn’t quite challenge.

  Although he’d managed to avoid physical contact for the most part, the addicting scent of her apple-peachy shampoo was chipping away at his sanity with each passing hour.

  She’d taken a personal day from work today, which meant they’d spent a second entire day together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Getting everything set up in the guest bedroom, including putting together the new bed. With all the space in his twenty-five hundred square foot house, she had somehow managed to remain within ten feet of him most of the time.

  Last night she’d spent the evening flipping through channels while he attempted to read. Turned out it was impossible to concentrate with her only a few feet away, so he’d gone into the gym for his evening session of physical therapy. She’d left him alone for that, but then he found himself right back in the same room as her when it was time for bed.

  She still hadn’t wanted to sleep alone, so he’d dragged out his sleeping bag and mat to lie on the floor next to the bed. Three minutes later, he’d returned from brushing his teeth to find her zipped up to her chin in his spot.

  Her back turned to him was a clear indication she would argue about staying on the floor until she was blue in the face. It went against every fiber of his being, but he’d zipped his lips and climbed into bed. Her fucking choice, right? Let her have it.

  Only, then it took him hours to fall asleep as he lay there feeling guilty.

  This morning, he’d gotten up early so he could do his PT before driving her to work, only to have her join him in his home gym. She’d simply said, “I’m not going in to work today,” and started stretching in a pair of black yoga pants and a neon pink, skin tight exercise crop top that zipped up the front. By the time she flipped the switch on his treadmill to start jogging, he was hard as a rock.

  The thing was, he wasn’t quite sure if she was doing it all deliberately, or if she was just being Shelby. Beautiful, innocently sexy, contradiction-filled Shelby.

  He still wasn’t sure nearly twelve hours later.

  She bent to put the rinsed plates in the dishwasher rack, and he had to bite back a groan when he found his gaze drawn straight to the curve of her ass in a pair of black leggings. Leaving the pan in the sink, he scooped up a dry towel for his hands and moved to stand by the stove.

  “I have a few things to take care of tomorrow while you’re at work, so Reyes is going to be with you for a couple hours instead.”

  She closed the door and straightened, bracing one hip against the counter. “Does he really need to be there? I mean, I’ll be surrounded by coworkers.”

  “And how many people you don’t know coming and going with their pets.”

  “Okay, so he needs to be there.” Her lips pressed together as she turned to the sink and started washing the pan he’d abandoned. “Where are you going?”

  He hesitated before keeping his promise to be straight with her. “I’m meeting with your dad’s PI, and I have a therapy session at one.”

  Her hands stilled, then scrubbed the clean pan harder. “Physical therapy?”

  “No.”

  She reached to turn on the faucet to rinse the pan. “You talk to a therapist?”

  “Once a week.”

  The surprise in her expression had him wishing he’d kept his damn mouth shut. There was being straight with her, and then there was stupidity. Now she was going to think he was all fucked up in the head. Time with his therapist had helped him realize he wasn’t doing too bad, and things were getting better each week.

  Tossing the towel on the counter, he moved past her to head into the living room.

  “Do your parents know?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know that they’ve ever asked.”

  The water shut off. “So you don’t tell them unless they specifically ask?”

  Disapproval rang in her tone, and his defenses rose as he paused with a backward glance. “It isn’t something I broadcast. I’m dealing with things and getting on with my life.”

  She braced her hands on the counter, accusation in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how much your mother worries about you? You and Reyes.”

  He pivoted to face her fully as a memory flashed in his mind. “Is that what you two were talking about when I walked in on Sunday?” He got his answer when her gaze wavered and she took a sudden interest in wiping the counter. His gut tightened at the thought of them discussing his life behind his back. “I thought it was too quiet the second I walked through the door.”

  “You should let her know you’re seeing someone,” she said quietly.

  “Why me?” he retorted. “I’m sure she’ll be just as glad to hear it from you.”

  “It’s not my place to tell her.” She shot him a glance, but looked away again just as fast. “Like it wasn’t her place to tell me what happened to you.”

  “You asked her?” Another surge of anger stalked him back to the island where he flattened his
palms on the counter. “Why do you want to know so bad? What will it matter?”

  The thought of her possibly seeing him as less than capable made his stomach ball in a knot. It was precisely why he’d shoved his cane in the back of his closet early Sunday morning and hadn’t taken it out since.

  Apprehension and curiosity shone in her brown eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll understand better.”

  “Understand what?”

  She swallowed hard enough for him to hear it. “You’re different. You’ve changed from when we were kids.”

  “I’ve been to war and back, Shelby. Thirty-seven times.”

  Her eyes widened, showing she really had no clue what his life had been like. Not many people did.

  Because you’ve never told them.

  He wasn’t complaining. Hell, he’d still be doing it if he had the choice. But some—much—of what he’d seen and done wasn’t something you shared with the people you love.

  His mind rejected that last part, and he took it out on her. “You want to know so damn bad, then I’ll tell you. But I don’t want your fucking pity, you got it?”

  She gave a jerky nod, her gaze trained on his face.

  Well, fuck. Now there was no turning back.

  He shifted sideways to drop down onto one of the barstools, then braced his elbows on the counter and scrubbed his hands over his face before resting them on the counter to glare at her. “My team specialized in hostage rescue. On my last mission, we were tasked with retrieving the wife and children of a high level terrorist. The wife was offering information in exchange for asylum for her and her three daughters.”

  Concern darkened her eyes. “Weren’t you worried it could be a setup?”

  “Always. But intel on the subject indicated she’d be a good asset, so we went in. The plan was in and out in seven minutes.” He closed his eyes as the mission played in his head on super fast-forward—until it slowed. “Five minutes and forty-two seconds in, the oldest daughter got scared and broke free to run back. I followed and saw her father shoot her as she begged for forgiveness at his feet.”

  Shelby’s gasp had him opening his eyes to see her cover her mouth in horror.

 

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