Читать книгу Wild Fire - Debra Cowan - Страница 11

Something strange had happened with Clay. Something physical. He had wanted her.

That couldn’t be right, Shelby decided. Things had never been that way between them. They weren’t now, either. The stupid concussion was to blame. Just because she didn’t need to have things repeated so often didn’t mean her brain was back to operating the way it should.

That…incident had happened on Tuesday. Today was Friday and she hadn’t stopped thinking about it, even though nothing like that happened again. Everything between them had been perfectly normal, just as it was right now.

She slid a look at him as they walked into the largest chapel at Presley Memorial Gardens. Clay had insisted on bringing her to M.B.’s memorial service. The funeral would be a family-only affair after M.B.’s body was released by the medical examiner. In the days since M.B.’s murder, he and Collier McClain had been conducting interviews at her school, with the firefighters on the scene and with neighbors.

Shelby’s mother had left this morning on a buying trip to New York City and wouldn’t return until Monday. If things went well and Dr. Boren agreed, Shelby would be back at work by then. She hadn’t recalled anything about M.B.’s murder yet, but surely she would. How long could amnesia really last?

She and Clay took a seat next to Collier just before the service began. Well over a hundred people listened in the flower-packed room as M.B.’s oldest brother, Glen, walked to the podium to give a eulogy. Almost half the crowd consisted of the students M.B. had taught and their parents. The others were teachers, administrators, friends and almost every firefighter from Station House Three. Shelby’s captain sat with several of her station mates in the row of dark blue dress coats across the aisle to her right.

The scents of roses and lilies mixed, the amount of flowers nearly overwhelming. She wanted to follow the funny story Glen Perry told about his sister, but the headache returned, the pain stabbing brutally from her temple to the back of her skull. She shut her eyes for a second and it seemed to ease. Looking again at M.B.’s brother, Shelby tried to pay attention.

The agonizing throb behind her eyes persisted, shooting flashes of light and shadow through her brain, but nothing else. No memories, no nothing.

As the somber, sturdily built man spoke, she closed her eyes. Shelby remembered M.B.’s contagious laugh, her ready smile, her sunglasses in every color. The void Shelby had felt since the murder grew deeper inside her, colder.

Her hands shook and she became aware that her entire body trembled. Maybe it was delayed reaction? Maybe just the realization that a service like this could also have been held for her? She might have the information to help find M.B.’s killer, but it was lost somewhere in her mind.

Glen Perry’s voice cracked and Shelby’s heart ached for him, ached for M.B.’s parents who were burying a child. She thought about her own mother having to bury Jason and couldn’t imagine how Paula would cope if something were to happen to her, too. That put a painful lump in her throat.

Stop! she told herself. Clay leaned forward with his wrists resting on his knees and she focused on the sight of his strong, gentle hands.

Finally the service was over. She fought a rising sense of suffocation as she waited with Clay and Collier to walk out. Once they stepped into the warm May sunshine, Shelby let out a sigh of relief. After telling Clay where she was going, she moved over to join the people in line to pay their respects to the Perry family. Returning to her friends, she tried to keep from bursting into tears. If she knew who’d killed M.B., why couldn’t she remember?

Feeling helpless and frustrated, she turned her attention to the tall man beside Clay. “Collier, how much longer before yours and Kiley’s wedding?”

“One week, one day and—” He glanced at his watch. “Seven hours. Y’all are coming, aren’t you?”

Clay and Shelby both nodded.

She was amazed at how perfect he and Detective Russell were for each other. “I never thought I’d see you walk down the aisle.”

“My momma didn’t raise no dummy. I’m not letting that woman get away.”

Shelby grinned, trying to keep her thoughts from sliding back into fear.

Clay nudged her shoulder, saying in a low voice, “See that guy over there in the white shirt and jeans? He’s a custodian from M.B.’s school named Antonio Sandoval. Everyone Collier and I spoke to said he spent a lot of time with M.B.”

“Why?” She turned, following Clay’s gaze to a lean, darkly handsome man with raven hair, a deep tan and striking bone structure. Double-take gorgeous.

“She was teaching him to read and write English.”

“He speaks the language well,” Collier added. “But he says he’s never learned to read or write it.”

“What reason could he have for wanting to kill M.B.?”

“We have to find out if he did have one.” Collier studied the Hispanic man. “Some of the other janitorial staff think there was more going on than reading lessons.”

“They think he was M.B.’s lover?”

Clay nodded. “Could Sandoval have been the guy you saw at her house that time?”

She frowned. “I don’t know.”

“He denies things went that far with M.B.”

Shelby’s throat knotted. She watched the other attendees move slowly among M.B.’s family members, heard a sob coming from someone. She looked away, filled with anger over her friend’s death, the chilling realization that she could easily have met the same fate, frustration over her memory loss.

Why couldn’t she remember? She wanted to help M.B., wanted whoever had killed the teacher to be brought to justice. All Shelby had was a yawning black hole in her mind, a fluid blurry memory that floated out of reach any time she tried to latch onto it. And a rage that flared occasionally. Dr. Boren had said the head injury would cause intense, often unfamiliar emotions.

The younger of M.B.’s two brothers leaned down to their mother and Shelby heard choked sobs coming from them both. Tears burned her eyes and she turned away.

Clay squeezed her shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m ready to go,” she said unsteadily.

“You got it.”

They said goodbye to Collier and walked quietly to Clay’s black pickup truck. As they pulled onto the main road, she felt his concerned gaze on her. Fighting to keep from crying, she didn’t speak for several long minutes. “I keep thinking that service could’ve been for me.”

Clay’s free hand, resting on his thigh, curled into a fist. He didn’t prod her to continue; he just waited.

“I feel…terrified and I don’t even know why.” Her voice thickened. “Why can’t I remember? Why can’t I help her?”

“It’ll come, Shelby.”

“What if it doesn’t? What if a killer gets away with murder because of me?”

“First of all, it won’t be because of you. And secondly, I’m going to find this killer.” He looked at her somberly for a long moment. “But if you never remember anything, we’ll figure out a way to handle it.”

She felt so strange, confused and wobbly, as if she’d lost her footing. Reaching over, she slipped her hand into Clay’s. He linked their fingers and a sense of relief moved through her.

“I couldn’t do this without you,” she said quietly. “I’m so glad you’re my best buddy.”

“Back at ya.” He squeezed her hand.

She marveled at how the least word from him could reassure her. Looking into those familiar green eyes, she saw steadiness, concern, the always-present acceptance. Nothing heated or sexual or unexpected. Nothing like what she thought she’d seen the day she had come home from the hospital. She’d only imagined the hunger there, the reaction of his body to hers.

There was relief at the realization, but it was joined by an emotion she couldn’t identify. What mattered was that she had misread the situation with Clay that day. Completely misread it.

When Shelby returned to work on Monday, things were still normal between her and Clay. The odd physical awareness that had sprung up between them wasn’t what had her feeling backed into a corner. It was Vince Tyner, who stood in front of her at the firehouse.

She’d been carrying in groceries and found her ex-boy-friend in the kitchen. Her spine stiffened. Had he simply walked in? Where was everyone else?

“I wanted to come by and see you.” His smile seemed forced. “I’ve called several times, but I guess your buddy, Clay, didn’t tell you.”

“He told me. I appreciate you checking on me, Vince. As you can see, I’m fine.”

He moved around the long, scratched dining table, the muscles in his massive arms straining at the fabric of his paramedic’s uniform shirt. His gaze slid over her as his voice lowered suggestively to say, “You look good.”

“I’m well enough to come back to work,” she said brightly, although her guard was now raised. “Which is what I should be doing.”

“I want to talk to you, Shelby.” He eased closer, brown eyes glittering sharply. “I need to.”

“About what?” She stayed where she was, making sure to keep the open doorway at her back.

“About us.”

“This is where I work. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me. You won’t return my calls. Jessup won’t let me anywhere near you. This is the only way I figure I can talk to you about us.”

“I’m not interested in an us.”

“Is this what you told all those other guys, too?” he demanded hotly. “I know you feel differently about me than you do all of them.”

No, I don’t. She didn’t want to be so blunt, but maybe she should. “I don’t want to get serious with anyone, Vince.”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“Then why did you just up and tell me you didn’t want to go out with me anymore?”

“Because I don’t,” she said firmly. “I didn’t like what happened that night, Vince.”

“I know I got carried away, but I apologized.”

“And I accepted. Doesn’t mean I want to reconsider.” They had been to a movie and when he’d brought her home, he had wanted to come in. She had said no. He had stopped just short of forcing himself on her. That had been enough for her. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m not interested. Why can’t you accept it’s over?”

“You can’t dump me like you did all those other guys. I’m better than that.”

Her temper stirred. “You need to leave. The firehouse is no place for this conversation.”

“I’ll pick you up after your shift ends tomorrow and we can have coffee. Talk.”

“No, Vince.”

Something cold and sharp flared in his eyes; a dull flush colored his handsome face. “I’ll let you think it over.”

“I don’t need to think it over. Please don’t come back here. And don’t call me anymore.”

“Don’t jerk me around,” he snarled.

“I’m not. I don’t like it when you act this way.” In fact, she was growing alarmed. She started out the door, intending to go get the last bag of groceries.

A hard, hot hand clamped on her shoulder and spun her roughly. “Don’t walk away from me!”

Startled at the forcefulness of his grip, she tried to shake him off. His fingers bit into her flesh. “Get your hands off me, Vince.”

“That’s not what you said the other night,” he sneered.

“Let go right now,” she said through clenched teeth.

He yanked her toward him. She raised her uninjured arm and drilled an elbow into his chest. “Back off.”

“You listen to me, you little—”

“Get away from her, Tyner.”

Captain Oliver appeared and grabbed the other man’s arm.

Vince shook free, releasing Shelby. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

“Yes, it is,” she said more steadily than she felt. “Don’t come back here.”

Savage fury twisted his features and he took a step toward her. Oliver pushed between them. Dylan Shepherd appeared, and so did Jay Monroe.

Vince’s gaze locked on each of them and lingered, challenging. Shelby knew he was sizing up his chances in a fight. She didn’t think he could take Shep’s powerful build or Monroe’s wiry strength.

The glare Vince gave her was so full of venom that her skin prickled. She’d never seen him this upset.

He pivoted and stalked out. Her captain turned, eyeing her intently. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Her muscles, gone rigid as Vince talked, finally relaxed. The headache returned. “Thanks for stepping in, y’all. I guess he just didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for him.” Shep’s dark eyes reflected concern.

Captain Oliver’s gaze narrowed as he watched Tyner pull away from the curb in his ambulance. “I don’t like him coming around my firehouse.”

“I’m sorry, Cap. I had no idea he’d come here.” Shelby tried to calm the boiling mix of fear and anger inside her. “I’ve told him more than once that things are over.”

“It’s not your fault, Fox.”

The phone in his office rang and the captain jogged past Shelby to answer it. Shep and Monroe moved up beside her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jay’s ruddy face was as serious as she’d ever seen it.

“Yeah, thanks. I don’t know why the guy won’t leave me alone.”

“He might be a jerk,” Dylan said, “but he knows a good woman when he sees one.”

She cut him a look. “Don’t start with me, Shepherd.”

He grinned, opening his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by the shriek of the fire alarm. He and Monroe bolted for their gear; Captain Oliver rushed out of his office, stepped into his own bunker pants and steel-soled boots, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Shelby wished she were going. She stayed out of the way and in two minutes flat, the truck roared out of the garage. She waited until they disappeared and then went into the kitchen, shaken up more than she liked by Vince’s visit. She finished putting away the groceries, giving in to a little self-pity that she couldn’t go on the call with the others.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearly three. Her usual time for a snack. She took a bag of popcorn from the cabinet and stuck it into the microwave.

As it cooked, she fixed a bowl of cat food for the firehouse cat and carried it outside. Just as she started back in, an explosion ripped through the air. Training had her ducking as metal clanged against metal, thudded into the wall. Debris shot through the kitchen’s open doorway and across the bay’s cement floor. Smoke rolled out. She jumped to her feet, awkwardly grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher with her uninjured hand and then raced into the kitchen, killing the small blaze in short order.

She stared in disbelief at the powder-covered mess. The microwave’s door was across the room, its glass shattered. What if she’d been standing in here, watching the corn pop as she usually did? She might’ve been killed.

Fear formed a knot in her belly. Making sure all the embers were dead, she left things as they were and called Clay.

He arrived in less than ten minutes, his jaw stiffening when he saw the microwave. Despite having left for work early this morning when she had, his navy slacks and green-and-blue striped polo shirt looked fresh.

He took her chin in his hand and looked her over from head to toe. “Are you okay?

“I’m not hurt. I was just coming back into the firehouse when it happened.”

“Blue eyes, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. She wrapped her arms around herself. “This is too strange, Clay.”

He brushed her hair away from her forehead and eyed her healing cut, then propped his hands on his hips. “Show me where you were and what you did.”

Shelby walked him over to the cabinet where she kept her popcorn. “After Vince was here, the guys got a call—”

“Tyner was here?” he asked sharply.

She nodded.

“When? How long? What did he want?”

“It was less than half an hour ago. He was here maybe five minutes. He wanted to talk about getting back together. At first, I told him here wasn’t the place to talk, but he wouldn’t leave so I told him—again—that I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not any better than last time. He kept after me until Cap and Monroe and Shepherd came out, and told him to back off.”

“Did Tyner threaten you? Try to push you around like he did the night you broke up with him?”

“No, he just grabbed me.”

A savage light flared in Clay’s eyes. “I really want to hurt that guy.”

A police cruiser pulled up. Two uniformed officers stepped out of the black-and-white, met at the end of the sloping firehouse drive by the crime scene technician who was removing his work kit from a white van.

“Are you bruised?” Clay asked.

“No. He scared me more than he hurt me.”

Clay’s eyes turned cold and hard. Shelby knew that look. He waved the crime scene tech into the kitchen then turned back to her. “Where did you first see Tyner?”

“In here. I came in with a bag of groceries and he was waiting.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yes.”

His gaze shifted to the destroyed microwave. “How long after he left did the microwave blow up?”

“Maybe five minutes.”

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No.”

“He was in here alone for a bit before you knew he was here. Maybe no one else knew he was here, either.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think he did this? But why?” She felt sick. “Just because I broke up with him?”

“People do take revenge for those kinds of things, Shelby. But it might not have been that at all.”

“What else?”

He searched her face, then said quietly, “It could be related to M.B.’s murder.”

“Clay!” Her surprise left in a rush as realization sank in. “You mean, Vince might’ve killed M.B., then come after me?”

“I have to look at all the angles.”

“But he hardly knew her.”

“Are you sure?”

She froze. “No.”

“I want to find out what connections he had to Ms. Perry.”

“She met Vince a couple of times here when she brought over goodies. He took his ambulance to her school and showed the kids around.” Could there have been more between the paramedic and the teacher? Something that might make Vince want to hurt M.B.? Shelby suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Did you notice if any of the firefighters were in here alone at any other time?”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Did you?”

“Alone?” She thought hard. “Maybe Shepherd.”

Clay nodded. “I’ll check him out, too.”

“We already know he was friends with M.B. We all were.”

“How did he act around her?”

“Flirty, like he does with every woman.”

“We’ve been assuming M.B.’s lover was married, but maybe not.”

“That’s true,” she said slowly, her stomach still in knots. “You really think Shep could’ve had something going with M.B.?”

“We’ll have to find out.”

“You’re making me paranoid, as if Vince weren’t enough,” she muttered.

“Sorry.” His gaze searched her face. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”

“I need to talk to your captain, as well as Monroe and Shepherd.”

“Just to see if they saw or heard anything, right?”

There was something in his face.

“You don’t suspect either of them?”

“I suspect everyone until I have a reason not to. I want you to wait for me, then you’re moving to my house.”

“Do you think that’s necessary?”

“I think Tyner would’ve hurt you if your captain hadn’t stepped in. And I’m real suspicious about the timing of Tyner being in the kitchen just before the microwave blew.”

“What do you think caused the explosion?”

“We’ll have to wait for the lab guys to give us a solid answer. Was popcorn the only thing in there?”

“Yes, but that by itself couldn’t cause an explosion.”

“Even if the bag overheated and caught fire?”

“Even then. There has to be a lot of heat and pressure behind an explosion like that. If the bag caught fire, it would burn, but probably not even crack the glass. There had to be some power to make the glass shatter and for the door to blow off,” Shelby explained.

“Power caused by what? An accelerant?”

“Yes. Or maybe a malfunction of some kind.”

“You mean electrical?” Clay looked pensive.

“It’s possible.”

“What about accelerants? What could be used?”

“A piece of metal, maybe?” The growing realization that the incident could’ve been deliberate made her shudder.

“Something big? Small?” he asked.

“Could’ve been as small as a paper clip or a coin.”

“Or flammable liquid inside the bag?”

“Yes, any of those.” Had someone really tried to kill her? Or was the microwave faulty and she had just happened to be using it when it malfunctioned?

“I’ll have the lab guys look at it. From your time together, Tyner knows you eat popcorn every afternoon. He could’ve planted something in the microwave before you tossed in your bag. So could Shepherd.”

“I can’t believe Shep would do something like this.” It was frightening to realize she wasn’t sure about Vince.

“I’m checking them both out anyway. I want you to take a leave of absence until we figure out what’s going on.”

“But I just came back to work today.”

“I know, but if this was an attempt on your life… Until the lab guys tell me this explosion wasn’t deliberate, I don’t want you here. I want you to be somewhere I can control the security.”

His words chilled her. She knew he wouldn’t suggest a move and a leave from work if he didn’t believe it was necessary.

“I want to talk to the crime scene tech. Then I’ll drive you home to get your things.”

She nodded. “I’ll talk to Captain Oliver when he returns.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Shelby.”

She met his serious green eyes. She knew he was thinking about Jason, about the accident that he still blamed himself for. Why couldn’t he accept that what had happened to her brother hadn’t been his fault? “I know,” she said quietly.

She didn’t like taking a leave from work. She felt as if she were running away, giving in to a scare tactic; it chafed, but she trusted Clay. If he said he feared for her, then he had a reason. There was probably no place safer for her than his house.

Just before eleven-thirty the next morning, Clay walked into his kitchen from the garage, returning from a domestic dispute call he’d received at 5 a.m. He and Detective Kiley Russell had finally convinced a man holding his estranged wife and two-year-old daughter hostage to let them go. There had been no bloodshed, a major victory in itself.

Erin, the older of his two younger cop sisters, stood at the sink rinsing dishes. She turned when she heard him, her straight, dark hair sliding over one shoulder. Concern shadowed her green eyes, a shade lighter than his. “How’d it go?”

As he moved around the oak dining table, he told her about the outcome and then excused himself to go shower.

“Want me to fix you a sandwich or something? Shelby and I have already eaten.”

“A sandwich would be great. Thanks.”

She nodded, walking over to the refrigerator and opening the door.

“How were things here?” He stopped in the wide, arched doorway leading into the hall.

His sister straightened, bracing a hand on the top of the fridge door. “Fine. She talked a little bit about the explosion yesterday. Tyner didn’t call, but her mom and Dylan Shepherd did.”

The information about Shepherd annoyed Clay for some reason, despite his having learned that Shep hadn’t been in the kitchen before the explosion as Shelby had thought. Shepherd wasn’t a suspect at all right now. Neither were any of the other firefighters who’d been in the firehouse. They all had solid alibis, since they were off on a call. Clay dragged a hand across his tired eyes. “Did she say anything about Vince?”

“No. She only mentioned him when she talked about the microwave. Do you think she’s afraid of him?”

“A little. After what she told me about their last date, I don’t want him coming anywhere near her.”

“Since you’ve got me and Brooke for backup during the day, he won’t. Not on our watch anyway.”

“Thanks.” Clay did feel better knowing both his sisters would be with Shelby. “Where is she?”

“Putting on her clothes.”

He started down the long hallway, passing the guest room on his left. The door leading into the light, airy space done in red, blue and yellow plaid was closed.

He figured Shelby was in there getting dressed, just as his sister had said. Before he could stop himself, he recalled holding her. Felt the press of her breasts against him, the soft skin of her neck beneath his hand.

He shook his head. Whatever had happened with Shelby last week hadn’t occurred again. And wouldn’t, Clay told himself. That unexpected, unfamiliar awareness he’d had of her body must’ve been some weird fluke. Things were back to normal between them and he was glad. The uneasiness nagging him now was due to the microwave explosion yesterday and learning about Tyner’s presence there just before it happened.

Clay felt much better knowing Shelby was at his house. They had spoken to Paula last night after she’d returned from her buying trip, and the older woman agreed that Shelby should stay with him. As did Clay’s dad, a cop who’d retired and started a private security company in Presley.

Clay walked into his room and pushed the door shut. As he moved toward the heavy king-size bed and matching chest of drawers, he pulled his gray Presley PD T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. He toed off his tennis shoes, turning with his hand on the top button of his jeans just as the door to his bathroom opened.

Shelby stepped out, her eyes rounding in surprise. “Oh.”

Sweet son of a—

His breath backed up in a painful knot.

Her short hair was dry except for a few strands that curled onto her nape. Steam from the bathroom glossed her neck, the curve of her shoulder. She wore only a bra and panties, and she looked damn good. The sight of all that bare golden skin had Clay’s entire body going rigid.

“Erin’s using the other bathroom or I wouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.” His throat was so tight it hurt to talk. A subtle feminine scent drifted to him. Something light and frothy and Shelby. It made his mouth water. He told himself to move, to look away, but he couldn’t. His pulse hammered hard.

Her underwear wasn’t sheer. It wasn’t even a sexy color. Just serviceable white. But the plunging lacy bra and high-cut panties were enough to make his chest ache.

Who the hell knew she wore underwear like that? His gaze moved over the swell of her breasts, the sleek line of her belly to her lean legs, then drifted back to her breasts. His gut clenched when her nipples tightened against the silk.

She gave a nervous laugh. “Why are you looking at me that way? I mean, you’ve seen me in a bikini that shows more than this.”

Jerking his attention to her face, he struggled to keep his voice even. “What way?”

“Like…I don’t know,” she said slowly, her left foot rubbing the top of her right.

Tension swelled between them. Her smile faded, replaced by confusion.

Trying to ease the moment, Clay went with the first thing that came to mind. “Where is that darn tattoo?”

Uncertainty flashed across her gamine features, then she arched a brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hell, yes. He’d like to find it with his hands, his mouth. It took everything he had to pretend that raw, primal need wasn’t clawing through him. “You know I’m going to find it one of these days.”

He saw her take a deep breath and struggled to keep his gaze on her face. Not that it mattered. The sight of her half-naked would be carved into his brain for the rest of his life.

Of course he’d noticed her before. She was right—he’d seen her plenty of times in a bathing suit. She was a good-looking woman with a great body. But he’d never felt like this when he’d noticed. Never been so aware of the powder-fine texture of her skin, the tempting fullness of her breasts, her taut waist. She wasn’t as tall as either of his sisters, but her legs were leanly muscled and strong. The image of those legs wrapped around him exploded on his brain. Startled at his thoughts, he slammed on the mental brakes.

It was too late. The confusion he’d seen earlier in her blue eyes was now panic. She moved toward him, keeping a healthy distance. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Finished my call and thought I’d come back to clean up.” The heated rush of his blood took him off guard.

She stood nearly even with him now, close enough to touch. And he wanted to.

Slanting one arm across her middle, she curled her palm around the side of her neck in a self-conscious motion. “I’m going to go get dressed,” she said huskily.

It was only then that Clay realized her gaze had dropped to his bare chest. Her lips parted slightly and she stared with a feminine appreciation he couldn’t remember ever seeing. At least, not when she looked at him. His heart thudded hard.

She looked up suddenly, and her gaze crashed into his. Something flickered in her eyes. Was it just his imagination, or had the air in the room turned electric? A strange sensation traveled up his arms.

Whatever was going on had him off balance and from the look on her face, he wasn’t alone. He thought about tossing her a robe, but he didn’t have one. She looked dazed. And nervous. She moved toward the door.

He started for the bathroom, trying to sound normal, as if lust weren’t boiling him from the inside out. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said gruffly. “Meet me in the living room.”

She nodded, turning quickly to leave. As he stepped into the bathroom, he heard her shut the door in the bedroom. Bracing an arm against the door frame over his head, he cursed. He was turned on as hell right now, but he’d seen her face. She hadn’t been afraid; she’d been wary, guarded. With him. He didn’t blame her. There had been nothing friend-like in the way he’d looked at her.

After telling himself for days that the previous instance had been a fluke, that his body’s response to hers hadn’t meant anything, Clay was forced to admit he’d been dead wrong.

Until now, no woman had affected him since Megan’s death. Not physically, not emotionally. Why did Shelby have to be the one? She’d seen his reaction and hadn’t bought his lame explanation about why he was practically drooling over her. For a split second, he’d seen an answering heat in her eyes. Before the nerves set in.

He knew how she was about romantic relationships. Still, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her. Wanted her with more ache than he could ever remember feeling, even for his late wife.

He didn’t know what these feelings were or what they meant. He had told himself that he could ignore what had happened before, that he could make the lust, this increasing physical awareness of Shelby, go away. The cold hard truth was he couldn’t. What the hell was he going to do?