Saving Shay (Florida Veterans Book 4)

by Tiffani Lynn

  “I don’t want to put you out. I’ll be fine once I get settled.”

  “You aren’t putting me out. It won’t bother me at all. In fact, I’ll probably sleep better knowing someone is nearby.”

  He hesitates but I can tell he wants to take me up on the offer.

  “Come on, let me get a clean pillowcase for Granny’s room.” I stand and walk to the door and he quietly follows me.

  “You know what?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for me to finish. “I would be more comfortable on the couch. It would seem weird sleeping in your granny’s bed.”

  “Okay, let me grab you a pillow and a blanket.” I go to retrieve both items and when I return I find that he’s stripped off his T-shirt and shoes and is standing in front of the couch in low-slung basketball shorts. His well-defined muscles are perfectly cut but not too bulging. My eyes trace the lines of each muscle group and snag on the interesting skeletal frog tattoo on his shoulder that stretches down his bicep. There’s a scar that runs about an inch above his hip bone all the way around his waist and a smaller, but thicker scar above his right pectoral muscle. I shove the pillow and blanket his way in hopes of stopping my ogling. How embarrassing. He smirks a little and I’m certain it’s because he caught me checking him out. I pretend not to notice and turn away. “Goodnight. See you in the morning,” I call to him as I slip into my bedroom.

  He chuckles a little and I hear his big body drop down on the couch and adjust. I consider closing the door to my room, but I haven’t been able to sleep with the door closed since the night my family died. It’s as if I’m afraid I will miss an important sound by blocking it out.

  Once I get adjusted under my covers I lie there in the semidarkness, listening intently, hoping to hear his breathing.

  “Hey, Shay?” he calls in to me.

  “Yeah?” I yell back.

  “Can I turn off at least one of these nightlights?” he asks.

  They’re bright. I have four just in the little living room alone. I have them in every room. I can’t stand the dark, am actually terrified of it, so I keep those all lit every night.”

  “Um…” I’m not sure what to say. The thought of turning any off frightens me.

  “I only want to turn the one off that’s blinding me. I promise it won’t be dark in here. Besides, I won’t let anything past me. You won’t have anything to be afraid of with me here. I’m trained to keep people safe. That’s what I do.”

  I contemplate what he’s saying for a little bit. With all that muscle and whatever Navy training he’s had I’m sure he can protect me. Can I let go of my fears for one night and trust him enough to turn one light off? It’s only one, I tell myself.

  “Okay, go ahead. I’m sorry. I’m a little afraid of the dark.”

  “I figured that out. It’s okay. If I can turn this one off right in front of me I can deal with the rest. I promise you’re safe with me here so get some sleep.”

  Oddly, I believe him.

  Four

  Paxton

  As I lie here on her uncomfortable couch all I can think of is the fact that she’s one room away, close enough that I can hear the squeak of the bed as she gets adjusted, the sigh she releases as her body settles on the bed and the restless slide of her feet against the sheets. I wonder what she’s thinking about. Is she feeling the same pull to me as I am to her?

  For me the draw is crazy strong. I don’t know if it’s because I’m excited to see the person who saved my life all those years ago or if it’s because she’s grown up to be more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Or could it be that she speaks to my protective side?

  Shay is a woman living alone out here, and although she’s handled everything by herself for quite a while, I can tell she needs someone to protect her from the things she can’t control. It’s just lucky I was here when the Costa Petroleum people showed up. There is no telling how hard they would have pushed her if they thought she was completely alone.

  It was obvious that they didn’t expect someone like me to greet them when they arrived. They thought it was going to be a single young woman living alone, someone they could intimidate if their lucrative offers didn’t pan out.

  I roll to my side on the couch and scan the room. Even with a nightlight turned off, it’s still bright in here. I counted three more of them in this room. I’m sure there are equal amounts around the house. It makes me wonder why she’s so afraid of the dark. Did something happen with her? With her granny or her family? When I asked about her family she shut the conversation down in a heartbeat so I’m afraid to bring it up again, but I’m dying to know.

  The Baird farm used to be teeming with life. It seemed like there were always kids running around, adults working, chickens clucking in the yard and some kind of farm equipment running in the background. I loved being at their place. Mine always had the television blaring or one of my parents screaming or snoring. Any chance I could get I was out of that house and over at Shay’s.

  My favorite sound though was her giggles. When we were kids I’d do everything I could to make her laugh. That was the best sound in the world and I’d give anything to hear it now. I’m not sure she’s laughed in a long time, judging by the sadness in her eyes.

  The next morning I wake ahead of her and decide that I want to do something for her so I scour her pantry and fridge as quietly as possible and I whip up some eggs and pancakes. As I’m taking the eggs out of the skillet she comes shuffling out of her room. Her tangled mess of auburn hair is down around her shoulders and her eyes are half closed. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you breakfast.” I grin at her.

  She tilts her head. “Why?”

  “You were nice enough to save me from the heat last night and let me sleep on your couch. I thought it was the best way to repay you.”

  “Oh. Did you make coffee?”

  “Of course. It’s the one thing I can’t live without in the morning. When we’re in the field I drink this instant shit that tastes horrible, but it’s still close enough to coffee that I’ll drink it to get through. It’s so bad that most of the guys won’t drink it. They drink something called Rip It, almost like Red Bull. I prefer crappy coffee to that stuff.”

  I open the cabinet and grab a coffee cup, fill it up and pause. “Black or do you want anything in it?”

  “Two sugars, one cream, please.”

  “At that point it’s no longer coffee.”

  “What, you take yours black?”

  “Yup.”

  “My granny told me that drinking it black would put hair on my chest.”

  “She wasn’t wrong. I’m just not a hairy person in general.”

  I turn around and flip the last pancake. While I’m waiting for that to cook I wash the dishes that I dirtied and dry them off. When I turn back to her she’s watching me curiously. I ignore the warmth in my gut her attention brings on.

  “You do dishes and cook?”

  “Of course. I’m amazing.” I smirk at her.

  “Yeah, I’m getting that. Do you mow grass and clean toilets too?” She’s smiling now and sipping her coffee.

  “Actually, I do. Maybe I need a superhero costume with a cape and a big fat ‘A’ on the chest for ‘Amazing Man.’”

  She laughs out loud. It doesn’t last long but the sound is like music to my ears. How did I make it this long without hearing that sound?

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

  “Well…yeah. You in tights?” Her head flies back and she cackles, louder and longer this time, and I’m left stunned, staring at her.

  When her laughter subsides and she sees me staring, she sobers a little. “I’m sorry. That was obnoxious.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for your laughter. I’ve missed that sound so much.” She blushes a little and I turn my focus to my plate so I can finish eating.

  When I’m finished, I take my plate to the sink and wash it off. “I’m going to town today to meet with my lawyer. Do you need any
thing?”

  “No. Not really. I went to the store a couple of days ago.”

  “Okay, well if you change your mind you can call me. I’ll leave my number on the pad of paper on the counter.”

  “Okay,” she replies quietly.

  I have no idea why I do it, but I move over to stand in front of where she’s sitting, lean down and kiss the top of her lovely auburn hair. I don’t say anything else; I simply leave through the front door and jog back to the tent to grab my keys, wallet and a change of clothes. I’m going to take a ride over to my adoptive parents’ house in the next county and then go to my lawyer.

  An hour and a half after I walked out of Shay’s house I’m at my parents’ kitchen table wearing clean clothes—after probably the best shower of my life—having another cup of coffee with my mom. Audrey Pearsal is one of the nicest women in the world. She has zero enemies and the most calming personality of anyone I’ve ever met. My dad, Ray Pearsal, on the other hand, has a tendency to tick people off without meaning to. He’s also an awesome person, but he’s quick to speak his mind and people don’t seem to like that very much. Although he and my mom are so different they have a devoted love for each other like none I’ve ever seen before.

  “Why don’t you stay here and drive back and forth? Sleeping out in that tent sounds horrible in this heat,” my mom tells me.

  “Originally, it was because I didn’t want to infringe on your privacy. You finally have the place to yourselves with all of us gone and I don’t want to intrude. It is humid as hell though, so I considered it, but then I found her.”

  “Her?” My mother’s eyes light up. She’s always wanted me to find someone and settle down. She wants grandkids, but mostly she wants me to have what she and Dad have.

  “Shay Baird,” I say with a grin I can’t seem to fight.

  My mother’s smile falters a little. “Is she one of the Bairds who lived next door to you growing up?”

  “Yes. How did you know? She was my best friend before I came here. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who reported the abuse when I was brought to you guys.”

  My mom lets go of her coffee cup and sits back in her chair. All happiness is gone from her face and my muscles tense because the expression she’s wearing always precedes bad news.

  “What do you know about Shay?” I ask, almost not wanting to know what she’s going to say.

  “Oh, Pax. We tried not to talk about Jared and Brenda. We wanted you to embrace our home and our family and let the crap from your past go. I see now that we should have told you some things.”

  I sit back in my chair, mirroring her posture, but crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Spit it out, Mom. Whatever it is, spit it out,” I demand in a low, controlled voice.

  “Jared, Brenda, and that drug dealer guy who was at your house all the time got high one night and killed that girl’s family. The only two who survived were the girl and the grandma because they were in the other house when the attack happened.”

  The bottom drops out from underneath me and my stomach rolls. “Killed them? How?”

  “Shot them. They broke into their house in the middle of the night and killed the parents and the little sister. While they were out on bail, Jared found out who turned them in for abusing you, and they came for revenge. They were so stoned though that they didn’t realize everyone wasn’t in the house. That’s what finally put them behind bars for good. All three left prints around the house and even tracked blood back over to your property.” A tear slips down my mom’s face and she wipes it away. “I’m sorry. We should have told you when you were old enough, but I didn’t want you to feel the guilt for that.”

  Shay’s whole family died because she saved me. Because of me.

  I stand abruptly and hustle to the sink where I throw up repeatedly until my stomach is empty. Her whole family is wiped out and she’s alone because of me. I can’t wrap my mind around that. My head drops to my folded arms on the sink, and tears that have probably been bottled up for years spring forward and pour out of me. My mom stands behind me and rubs my back, whispering comforting words and doing her best to settle me down.

  Too dazed to stand, I turn and drop down with my back against the sink cabinet. She sits down next to me and puts her hand on my knee.

  “I’m sorry, Pax. We should have told you.”

  “I’m not mad at you, Mom. I’m fucking angry at them. They’re selfish, horrible people. They tried to kill her and instead took everything from her. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. Nothing you could have done differently. Even if you knew. She didn’t say anything to you?”

  “No, but when I asked about her family she clammed up. She must hate me.”

  “She was young too. Maybe she doesn’t know.”

  “I’m sure she does. How could she not?”

  “I don’t know, honey.” My mom’s voice is so gentle. It’s the same tone she used on me for at least the first year after I moved in with them.

  “What do I do? She’s not going to want me to move in next door.” I stand abruptly and pace back and forth.

  “I was so happy to see her, Mom. You don’t even know. It was like the only happy memory from that part of my life was standing in front of me. I can’t explain it better than that.” I grab the back of my neck and close my eyes, opening them only long enough to rant again. “You have no idea how beautiful she is. God, she’s just… I don’t even know how to describe her. Amazing. I knew something terrible had happened. She lives there alone. Her granny died and she’s there alone. It doesn’t sound like she ever leaves the property except to shop late at night. No one lives out there. She’s this beautiful, sweet, strong, lonely, scared, hermit of a woman and I want to take care of her!” I yell, startling myself. Did I just say I want to take care of her? Where did that come from?

  “Oh, honey.”

  About that time my dad comes in from his morning run and stops in the middle of the kitchen, looking between me and my mom, trying to figure this out.

  “What’s going on?”

  My mom stands and I put my hands on my hips and drop my head, unsure if I can say the words out loud.

  “Paxton just found out about Jared and Brenda killing his neighbors.”

  “What?” he asks, his voice jumping an octave.

  “When he was out at the property he ran into the daughter. The one who was his friend. I had to tell him.”

  My dad sighs and sits on the edge of a chair next to the table.

  “You’ve done so well all these years; I wanted to just let the past stay buried. I felt like you’ve had enough hurt in your life.”

  “Tell him what you told me about Shay, honey,” she urges me.

  “Why? It’s never going to be anything now that I know what happened.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “She’s beautiful, Dad. Gorgeous head of deep red hair, a few little freckles on her nose, these eyes… Oh, man, her eyes. You wouldn’t believe them. And still just as sweet as she always was. She lives on the property alone and I don’t think she leaves much. I ruined her life. She’ll never let me near her now.”

  My dad studies my face for a long time before he finally stands and makes his way to me, stopping close enough to put his hands on my shoulders. “Son, you’re the bravest, strongest of our kids. I’ve never seen you back down from a fight and I’ve never seen you turn away when things get too hard. It’s what makes you a good SEAL. Maybe you should apply that to your personal life. First, make sure she’s worth it, and if she is, then you go after her with everything you’ve got. That’s exactly how I won your mother over and we’ve been together for almost 35 years.” He puffs up his chest proudly. “I know what I’m talking about.”

  “But Brenda and Jared killed her family. That’s not the same thing as what you had to do to get Mom.”

  “Same principles, son. She needs someone who will care for her, fight for her and love h
er. If you can and want to be that man, then in the end it won’t matter if your parents were serial killers or Sunday school leaders. It’ll only matter what kind of man you are now.”

  He makes sense, but for me to move forward with even a friendship—and I want that at the very least—she needs to know the truth. I won’t lie to her even by omission. Something about that first hug by the creek tells me she has no clue.

  Five

  Shay

  When I woke up to find Paxton cooking breakfast in my kitchen I couldn’t stop the warmth that spread over my skin from head to toe. It wasn’t just because there was fresh breakfast being made that I didn’t have to cook. It was because there was someone else to wake up to. Someone else to share my morning with. Someone to smile at me and do my dishes as a bonus. God, that smirk and that body. Yum.

  How is it possible that he’s still single? Paxton is a 26-year-old Navy SEAL with a body to die for, a caring heart, and a killer dimple, and he can cook and clean. It seems insane for him to be alone, even if I have very little understanding of relationships and men in general.

  I’ve tried to work on the garden and do some laundry, but it’s been difficult to keep my mind on what I’m doing. My thoughts keep straying to him. It seems odd to me that we have a level of familiarity that’s held on even with the long amount of time we were separated. I felt a little shy but still mostly comfortable with him. There’s no other reason I’d let a virtual stranger stay in my home overnight other than I trust him.

  I heard a car come down the road a little while ago so I know he’s back over at the property, and I was doing a good job at staying away until I heard a second car. Because my curiosity is peaked, I creep through the path that Paxton has helped to clear again just by using it. When I come out the other side I see a big black pickup truck and a burgundy four-door sedan. I continue forward until I’m a few feet from the steps of the porch and then I pause, wondering if I’m intruding on him. Maybe this was a bad idea. He might be sick of me after hanging out with me last night and today. As I’m getting ready to turn and haul butt, the door opens and a short, petite woman with blond bangs and a ponytail stumbles forward with two full garbage bags. Her eyes widen and she stops dead in her tracks when she sees me.