Loving A Hero

by Cheryl Yeko

  Shelly's heart overflowed with love. It didn't matter that she couldn't remember Maggie’s father, or how she’d ended up pregnant. He’d obviously been just one more of her many bad decisions.

  Besides, she'd gotten Maggie out of the deal, so it was all good. She’d be forever grateful for the gift of her precious little girl.

  Lifting Maggie into her arms, she blew raspberries against her neck. "Blueberry pancakes." She walked over and plopped her giggling daughter onto a kitchen chair. "I think I saw some whipped cream in Mr. Cooper's refrigerator. Would you like some?"

  "Yes, please."

  Shelly fixed a short stack of pancakes, setting them in front of Maggie. Stan walked over to retrieve a can of whipped cream, grinning.

  "Open up, Maggie." He lifted the can over her head, with the nozzle aimed down.

  A huge smile on her face, Maggie tipped her head back and opened wide. Stan squirted a fair amount of whipped cream into her mouth.

  Chuckling, he turned toward Shelly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm pretty sure your mama would like a taste."

  Shelly snorted and held up her hands, taking a step back. "No. I'm good, thanks."

  In a quick movement, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her against him, holding the can of whipped cream against her lips. "Open up, baby. You know you want some."

  She couldn't stop the laugh bubbling up inside her. He was sooo not talking about the whipped cream.

  Maggie thought it was the funniest thing in the world, her soft little giggles echoing off the walls. "It's good, Mama. Try it."

  Unable to deny her daughter's plea, Shelly opened her mouth. Stan squeezed an abundance of whipped cream inside, until it dripped down her chin. She flicked her tongue out to gather it up.

  He smirked. "I think you missed some."

  The feel of him pressed up against her sent shivers of awareness through her. And judging by the hard bulge digging into her belly, he was feeling the same way.

  He leaned down and licked the cream off her chin, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, before releasing it and raising his head to stare into her eyes.

  The hunger she read in his heated gaze matched the need thrumming through her. Her mind filled with all sorts of wicked images of the two of them together. Naked. In bed. Up against a wall. In the shower as he pressed deeply—

  "Do you have syrup, Mr. Cooper?"

  Her mind snapped back to awareness, and she wanted to kick her own butt. If her daughter hadn't been only a short distance away, she might have capitulated to the intense desire simmering between them.

  Maybe staying here isn't such a good idea.

  Stan's eyes narrowed. "Babe, you're thinking too hard." He moved away and retrieved a bottle of syrup, walking over to the table. He smiled at Maggie. "Tell me when, sweetheart."

  It wasn't until her pancakes were swimming that her daughter sang out, "When," before digging in.

  Stan rubbed his eyes, blinking before focusing again on the video feed from Club Vortex. He'd spent the past three days studying the images. He hadn't been able to find anyone entering the establishment with flowers, or anything suspicious.

  He glanced at his watch. 3:47. Time to pick Shelly up from his sister's restaurant. His lips tipped into a smile, thinking of how fast she'd settled in. Everyone loved her and Maggie, from his family, to the customers of Sandy's Hen House. Stan could easily envision her and Maggie staying with him.

  Long term. Very long term.

  As he grabbed up his cell phone to call Duke and ask about the progress of obtaining any video the college had from the day of the shooting, it rang. A number he didn't recognize flashed across the screen.

  "Stan speaking."

  "Stan, this is Bob." The man's voice was cold as ice, fury evident with each word spoken. "Shelly's apartment was broken into this afternoon while I was out with Duke tracking down a lead."

  Stan swore, getting to his feet to pace the room, then came to a halt at Bob's next words.

  "Dave was hurt, and he's in the hospital."

  "How bad?"

  "He's unconscious, and they're taking him back for a CAT scan."

  "Which hospital?"

  "Boulder Community. Also, Shelly’s place was trashed. Guy must be angry he can’t find her. You might want to grab a hotel for the night until I can get the apartment cleaned up."

  "Okay, thanks. We're heading out. Keep me updated."

  "Yeah," Bob growled before ending the call.

  Stan raked his hand down his face and blew out a strained breath. Shelly was going to take this hard when she found out. Picking up the phone he called his dad to ask him and Carol to keep Maggie for the night.

  "Sure. Everything okay?"

  He gave his father the details. “. . . so Shelly and I are heading over to Boulder. We won't be back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. This guy doesn’t know we’re here, so it should be fine. Still, keep an extra eye out for trouble."

  "Don’t worry, son. I’ve got it handled on this end. You think Shelly will be okay leaving Maggie with us?"

  “I’m sure I can convince her. She knows you’re ex-military.”

  “I’ll call Colleen and have her and the girls come over to spend the night.”

  "Thanks, Dad."

  Less than fifteen minutes later, after throwing some clothes into a bag for him and Shelly, he pulled up in front of the restaurant. Stepping inside, he met her gaze across the diner and her smile fell.

  She hurried over, her expression tense. "What? Is Maggie okay?"

  "Maggie's fine."

  Stan clasped her elbow and led her to a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes of the customers. Rock Bluff was a small town, and he and Shelly were already the town's current gossip.

  Turning so her back was to the wall, he stepped in front of her, blocking out the view of the patrons. He framed her face with his palms, tilting her head up so he could press a soft kiss to her mouth.

  It was meant to be a short kiss of comfort, until her lips parted on a sigh of pleasure and Stan couldn’t resist her sweet invitation. For a moment their tongues tangled in a sensual dance, before he regretfully pulled back.

  Her dreamy gaze slowly focused back on him, then her brows furrowed. "What is it?"

  "Shelly, I'm sorry, your apartment was broken into again."

  "Shit." She seemed more mad than scared.

  Stan's mouth tightened, and he knew the moment she realized more bad news was coming.

  "What aren't you telling me?"

  "Dave was hurt. He's at the hospital in Boulder." Her face drained of color and he tugged her into his arms.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to him. "How bad?"

  "He's still unconscious. We need to go."

  “What about Maggie?”

  “She’ll be safe with my father. He won’t let anything happen to her.”

  Shelly nodded, though she still didn’t appear convinced.

  With a smile of reassurance, he said, “Ex-Marine, remember.”

  Her cheeks puffed out with her slow exhale. “Yes, of course.”

  "Is everything all right?" his sister asked, coming up behind him.

  Turning, Stan slid an arm around Shelly's waist, holding her close. "Shelly's friend's been hurt. We're heading out for the hospital in Boulder. Maggie's still with Carol. Can you ask Colleen to bring the girls over for some playtime?"

  Sandy nodded. "I can do that."

  "Thank you, Sandy," Shelly said, seeming to pull herself together. "Tell her Mama will see her tomorrow, and to be a good girl."

  They exited the restaurant. Getting into his car, Shelly buckled her belt as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Did Bob call you?"

  Stan nodded. "Bob found him unconscious in your apartment. That's all I know."

  "This is my fault." She twisted her pretty hands in her lap.

  Hitting the freeway, Stan reached over and covered her hands with one of his, giving them a comforting squeeze. "
This is the fault of the guy terrorizing you. No one else's."

  Shelly nodded, turning her head to glance out the window. Stan could see she was carrying a heavy load of guilt on her slender shoulders.

  The trip was uneventful, and they pulled into the hospital parking lot a little after eight. The moment the car stopped Shelly was out of the car and heading briskly toward the entrance. Stan caught up to her and clasped her hand again. "Stick close to me, okay?”

  She nodded absentmindedly. "Did Bob say what floor?"

  "No. We'll stop at reception."

  After getting the information, they exited the elevator on the fourth floor as Stan's cell phone started ringing.

  Bob was heading toward the elevator with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Spotting them, he snapped his phone shut, silencing Stan's ringing. "I was just calling you."

  Shelly hurried to him, throwing herself into his arms. "How's Dave? Can we see him?"

  Bob crushed her in a bear hug, and Stan saw the big guy shudder as he buried his face in Shelly's hair, before getting his emotions under control. He patted her back. "He's gonna be fine, sweetheart. He was hit over the head and has a concussion, but nothing that won't heal." His angry stare met Stan's. "This time we’ve got him on video."

  Stan quirked a brow in question.

  Bob's jaw twitched. "After the first break-in, Dave put a security camera in the hallway so we could see everyone getting off the elevator. Although I haven’t checked it yet, I’m confident we got the bastard on video."

  Stan barely refrained from heading back to the apartment complex to check out the video for himself. But he couldn't leave Shelly, and she wouldn't leave until she'd checked on Dave personally.

  "Can I see him?" Shelly asked.

  "You bet. He's awake." Bob flung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side as they made their way down the hall. Knowing the guy was madly in love with his husband was the only thing that kept Stan from snatching her back. Still, it grated on him.

  Entering Dave's room, Bob released her and hurried to Dave's side. "Love, you awake?" He gently swept Dave's messy bangs off his forehead.

  Shelly winced at the gash above Dave’s eye, an ugly bruise covering the side of his face.

  Dave cracked his lids, squinting up at them against the too bright lights. Stan reached for the light switches on the wall, and flicked them, until he found the one for the light above the bed, shutting it off.

  For the first time since meeting him, Bob sent him a grateful smile.

  "Thanks," Dave croaked, then cleared his throat, his gaze falling to Shelly, who was now standing on the other side of his bed, silently crying. "Hey, none of that, now. I'm fine."

  She sniffled, two more fat tears sliding down her cheeks. "Liar." A sob rattled her chest.

  Dave frowned, tugging his hand from Bob's to open his arms. "C'mere."

  Shelly leaned down as Dave embraced her, kissing the top of her head as she clutched him and began to sob.

  Stan's jaw tightened, and he met Bob's ice-cold stare over their heads.

  Bob gave him a curt nod. And just that fast, an unbreakable bond formed between them. The urgency to find the man responsible for the pain caused to the people they cared about most, overcame any animosity they may have felt for each other.

  Chapter Seven

  Shelly's heart banged against her chest, filled with guilt as she listened to Dave recall what he could of the attack. It wasn't much. Having heard a noise from Shelly’s place, and finding the front door unlocked, he'd gone inside to check it out.

  Bob wasn't happy about that little fact, and said so, quite forcefully. "Not smart, Dave." A thick frown line grew between his narrowed eyes. "You should have called me instead of charging in there and nearly getting yourself killed."

  Dave smiled gently at his husband, holding out his hand. "I know."

  Dave's slender hand disappeared into Bob's large paw. Leaning in, the big bruiser blinked back tears as he studied the damage to Dave's face. "I couldn't bear to lose you. Don't scare me like that again."

  Dave nodded, his eyes shining with love. "Promise." His gaze shifted to Stan. "I'm afraid it was lights out after that."

  "We're just happy you're okay," Shelly said. No way did she want Dave feeling bad because he couldn't remember who’d knocked him over the head. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

  Stan placed a possessive palm along the back of her neck as he spoke to Dave. "Thanks to you, I hear we might have this maniac on video. You concentrate on getting better, and we'll take it from here."

  "That's right," Bob said, pressing a kiss to Dave's mouth. "I’m staying the night. We can go over the video feed tomorrow."

  Dave piped in, a smirk covering his boyishly handsome features. "If you get a good photo you can throw it into Google Images. If the guy has an Internet footprint, it should find him."

  "You're kidding," Shelly said, somewhat shocked. "It's that easy?"

  Chuckling, Dave said, "'Fraid so."

  "Wow. That's kinda scary." Shelly kissed Dave on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow.”

  "We'll be staying at the Holiday Inn off Mason Street—"

  “Why aren’t we staying at my place?” Shelly cut in, confused.

  There was a beat of silence.

  “What?” she queried, unease settling in.

  “I’m sorry,” Stan said, “your place was vandalized.”

  Her stomach dropped. “What?”

  “Nothing too bad,” Bob said quickly. “Though it’ll need cleaned up before you can stay there.”

  Dave piped in, “We’ll take care of that for you, baby girl. Don’t you worry about it.”

  Shelly nodded, feeling numb as Stan clasped her hand. When would this nightmare end?

  Stan pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You have my cell, call me if you find anything.”

  His attention back on Dave, Bob gave a wave of his hand as they headed for the door.

  Less than twenty minutes later, they reached the hotel. Shelly didn't say anything when Stan asked for a King-sized room. Her heart fluttered wildly under the heated gaze he shot her, as if daring her to refuse.

  She wouldn't, needing to feel his arms around her right now. To finally feel his naked body against hers, inside her. Shelly wasn't going to fight it any longer.

  She wanted him.

  I'll keep my heart out of it. It'd only be about the sex, she assured herself.

  Exiting onto the 6th floor, they walked the long winding hall to their room number. Stan shoved the door open so she could enter.

  Just sex, she reminded herself, not quite believing her own bullshit as she studied the oh-so-handsome man she'd been fantasizing about for months. She wasn't going to fight the inevitable any longer.

  The confirming ache between her thighs made her fidget slightly as her nipples pebbled under her blouse. The sexy smirk on his face as he studied her was totally justified.

  Though nothing fancy, the room was neat and clean with a king-sized bed the focal point, filling up most of the space. Or so it seemed in her mind, and she wondered how long it'd take them to get naked and mess up all the maid's hard work. Her gaze shot up at the sound of Stan tossing his car keys on the corner desk.

  Not long, was her conclusion, given the way his eyes roamed over her body as he stalked toward her. A nervous giggle escaped as she took a step back, coming up against the door. She held up one hand, which landed on his broad chest.

  He pressed in close, slamming both his palms on the door she leaned against. Lowering his head, he nipped at her bottom lip. "Darlin', tonight I'm going to make you scream."

  Her knees trembled with the force of desire that slammed into her. It might have been years since she'd taken a man to bed, but she was no shrinking violet.

  Shelly lifted both hands to thread her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer until their lips brushed. "Maybe I'll make you scream first," she murmured.

  With a chuckle, his mo
uth covered hers completely, sliding his tongue inside to devour her. Scooping her into his arms he strode over to the bed, finally breaking the kiss as he tossed her onto the mattress. "We'll see about that."

  Shelly snorted, coming up on her elbows. "Did you just throw me?" she asked in mock indignation.

  A sexy grin spread across his face as he kicked off his shoes. Ripping his shirt off over his head, he tossed it on a corner chair, then removed his belt. "I'd sure like you to get naked about now." He kicked off his shoes.

  Shelly watched, enthralled, as Stan dropped his belt to the floor and unzipped his jeans, stripping them off along with his boxer briefs and socks.

  Her body on fire, she took in the awesomeness of Stanley Cooper in all his naked glory. Her daydreams didn't come close to the real thing. Tall and broad chested, his body was a work of art, all sleek muscles and graceful lines. Like one of those famous Greek sculptures everyone admired so much.

  Her gaze followed those same lines, all the way down to his engorged cock, pulsing with the same desire throbbing between her legs. She licked her lips, the urge to taste him making her roll to her knees, cupping the heavy sac between his legs.

  His groan of pleasure gave her encouragement and she leaned forward, wrapping her hand around his thick girth, and flicked her tongue across the mushroomed tip. As his salty flavor dissolved on her tongue, he slid his fingers into her hair.

  "Shelly, baby." His voice sounded strangled.

  Shelly lifted her eyes to his, and without a word opened her mouth and swallowed him whole, until he touched the back of her throat, eliciting a deep groan from him. A thrill shot through her at the way his eyes burned as he watched her through heavy lids.

  Murmuring her name, he tugged her head back until he almost slipped from her mouth before gently bringing her forward again to meet the thrust of his hips. Once. Twice. His cock grew harder with each thrust, if that was even possible, feeling like steel under her tongue.

  "Enough," he growled, pulling away completely and pressing her back onto the mattress. "Baby, when I come, I want to be buried deep inside your sweet body. It's all I've thought about for months." He began unbuttoning her blouse. "Now, let's get you out of these clothes."