To Love and Protect Page 7

  As he rounded the back of his truck on her side, he lifted her bag from the back before continuing to the passenger door. She already had it open and was stepping off the running board when he reached her. Her feet slipped on the snow as she closed the door, and he snaked an arm out to catch her from going down.

  Shelby grabbed his suit coat lapel, a surprised gasp parting her lips when her body slammed against his. Dev leaned hard on his cane to keep his balance as he held her tight against his side. When he straightened to steady her on her feet, she glanced up in the dim light cast from his front porch lamp.

  His breath seized in his lungs, heart thudding hard against his ribs. Deep down in his gut, he knew he was screwed. Focusing on priority number one was going to be damn near impossible when all he wanted to do in this moment was lower his mouth to hers and beg her to let him change his answer to her offer nine years ago.

  Chapter 10

  Pushing away from Dev took willpower Shelby struggled to employ—especially when she dropped her gaze to his lips. The urge to rise up on her tiptoes and press her mouth to his battled her common sense. Her slippers would never lift her high enough. And if she slid again on the slick soles, she’d end up planting her lips on his chin or something equally humiliating.

  Which is why you are not going to kiss him.

  “You good?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  “Yeah, thanks.” She finally managed to put some space between them and looked at her feet with a self-conscious grin. “I didn’t even think about my slippers until after we’d left my apartment. I should’ve changed them.”

  “I have hardwood floors. I’m sure you’ll be glad you have them.”

  He abruptly continued toward his front door, and she followed with a wry twist of her lips. Leave it to Dev to put all the distance between them she needed.

  Turning her attention to the small, plain ranch house, she asked, “Is this yours, or do you rent?”

  “I bought it about eight years ago.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her, then flipped on the lights. “I didn’t want to always have to stay at my parents’ house when I came home on leave. Plus, I figured it was an investment. The neighborhood was just starting to grow, and I pretty much gutted the place and redid everything whenever I could get back for a week or two.”

  Surprised at the bevy of volunteered information, she moved a few steps inside while untying and unbuttoning her coat. The foyer area opened up to a house much larger than its curbside appearance indicated. And she certainly hadn’t expected it to be so nice. She ran her gaze around the open floor plan, impressed with his work on the trim, the warmth of his paint choices, and a really cool pallet wood accent wall adjacent from a fieldstone fireplace.

  Yet, as professional as the remodel appeared, there were no furnishings beyond a couch, an end table and lamp, and two pictures on the mantle. The spot where she assumed a dining room table would go was empty, and there were only two barstool chairs at the large island separating the living room from what looked to be a state of the art kitchen.

  Other than a large, flat-screen T.V., he had nothing on the walls, no area rugs on the beautiful hardwood floors, no curtains on the windows—though the ones facing the road did have shades.

  She’d make a bet he didn’t entertain much.

  “You’ve done a great job,” she said as he reached to take her coat and hung it on a row of hooks beside the door. “Though, your interior decorating is a little…minimalist.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t need much. All my essentials fit in a go-bag. The rest is just stuff.”

  “A go-bag?”

  “It’s a military thing.”

  “Oh.” She opened her mouth to ask more, but he was already walking toward a short hall she assumed led to the bedrooms.

  “You can have my room, and I’ll take the couch,” he said over his shoulder.

  She frowned. “You don’t have a guest room?”

  “I have three of them. I only have one bed.”

  Right. Because a second bed wouldn’t fit in his go-bag. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

  “It’s not up for discussion.” He continued down the hall, his voice reaching back. “I’m just going to grab a T-shirt and shorts, and it’s all yours.”

  She followed him past a bedroom that he’d turned into a home gym, and at the end of the hall was the master suite. Nerves halted her feet in the doorway. Looking around, she was reminded of a hotel room when you first check in. Neat. Clean. Impersonal.

  Dev had tossed her bag on his bed and was hanging up his suit coat in the closet while toeing off his dress shoes. Those he placed precisely side by side, in between a pair of Army boots and running shoes.

  When he started loosening his tie, she swallowed hard at what would come next—shirt or pants?

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “I really would rather sleep on the couch.”

  He shot her an impatient look. “And I would rather have you in here with the door closed. Anyone comes in the front, they have to go through me first.”

  The blunt words reminded her of why she was in his bedroom in the first place, and her stomach flipped as her pulse skipped. She hadn’t thought of his offer as anything other than him being polite.

  “Don’t worry,” he added. “I just changed the sheets this morning.”

  “That’s not it. I…” She gestured helplessly while he hung his tie on a hanger with a couple of others. “I feel bad kicking you out of your bed.”

  “It’s fine.” He closed the closet and crossed the room to his dresser. “What isn’t fine is the fact we’re still talking about this when it’s already two o’clock in the morning.”

  She grit her teeth in frustration at his attitude, then decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. If he wanted the couch, let him take the stupid couch. “Fine. Whatever.”

  As she started for the bed, he gave her a wide berth, T-shirt and shorts in hand. He tossed out a sarcastic, “You’re welcome,” before shutting the door with a sharp thud.

  Shelby flipped her middle finger after him with a low growl. She hadn’t even wanted his damn room, so where did he get off acting like she should be grateful he’d made such a huge sacrifice?

  After a deep breath and slow count to three, she blew it back out again—along with some of her stress. The man might be hot as hell, but he was also a hell of a jerk when he wanted to be.

  Turning back to the bed, she unzipped her bag and took out her things, only to realize she’d forgotten pajamas. And she’d been in such a hurry to get out of there, she’d only packed one shirt and jeans for tomorrow. She didn’t really want to sleep in the clothes she was going to wear in the morning, she definitely wasn’t going to sleep in her bridesmaid’s dress, and underwear or birthday suit was not happening in Dev’s bed.

  She eyed his dresser, then crossed over to open the second drawer. It made a slight scratching noise in the quiet, and she cringed while pulling out a large tan T-shirt. Carefully closing that drawer, she opened the top one in search of shorts.

  After holding up a pair of gym shorts that would need a belt to stay on her hips, she gingerly pulled out a pair of his black boxer briefs. They’d look ridiculous, but at least the stretchy material would stay on.

  And they’re better than tightie whities.

  The thought made her snort with amusement, and she kept them as she closed the drawer.

  Once she changed out of her dress into Dev’s T-shirt and briefs, she hung the silver velvet gown in his closet next to his suit coat. The silver and navy looked good together. She trailed her fingers down the length of his coat sleeve, then snatched her hand away when she realized what she was doing.

  You’re being an idiot. Go to bed!

  She took a few moments to wash off her make-up and brush her teeth in the master bathroom, then slid between the crisp, fresh-scented sheets. After clicking off the bedside lamp, she laid her head down on the pillow with an exhausted sigh. Willing her shoulders to relax
, she linked her fingers together over her ribs.

  And stared at the ceiling in the dark.

  Turned her head to stare at the empty pillow beside her.

  Stared at the ceiling again.

  Being in Devante’s bed was surreal. How many times had she fantasized about this back in her late teens? Yes, even after his rejection.

  Too many times.

  He was quite the crabby jerk, and yet, back in her bedroom when she’d first read those horrible words on her mirror, he’d shown a glimpse of the kind, caring guy she remembered as a kid. The strength in his arms when he held her had given her a sense of security she hadn’t felt even with a bodyguard the past few weeks. Whoever had written that creepy message couldn’t get to her with Dev as her protector.

  CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU IN RED.

  The words flashed in her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. What did that mean even? She fisted her fingers in the comforter across her chest, dragging it up to her chin. Thirty heart-pounding seconds later, she scooted up and reached over to turn the light back on.

  Immediately, she focused on the lamp’s reflection in the window to the left of the bed.

  Dev had said if someone tried to come in his front door, they’d have to go through him first. But her stalker wouldn’t be that stupid. If he was resourceful enough to follow them here, he’d go around and come through the window—and with the light on, he could probably see into the room without her even knowing he was there.

  Another reach for the lamp plunged the room into darkness.

  Shelby grabbed the second pillow to hug against her chest while staring toward the window in the dark. Her elevated heartbeat shortened her breath as anxiety spiked.

  Shit.

  Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them away with impatience. She hated the thought this guy was winning—and yet there was no way she was going to get one wink of sleep while sitting here all freaked out about everything that had happened.

  Worrying what could happen.

  Throwing aside the covers, she jumped out of bed and hurried to the door. The hardwood floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but a prickle of fear along the back of her neck refused to let her turn around.

  Three seconds later, she reached the living room. Recessed lighting from under the kitchen cabinets cast just enough light for her to see Dev jerk up from the couch.

  He met her halfway across the floor. “What’s the matter?”

  His hushed, clipped tone indicated he was ready for action, not angry. At least, not yet.

  “I, um…” Realizing she still clutched the extra pillow, she blurted, “You didn’t take a pillow.”

  He frowned when she pushed it into his hands. “You came out here to give me a pillow?”

  She shrugged and then sidled around him to sit on the couch.

  “Shelby.” His tone held a note of warning.

  “I know—you’ve got the couch. I’m just…” She glanced up at him and then quickly looked away as she scooted back and drew her chilled feet up off the floor. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she whispered, “I can’t shut my brain off.”

  Dev stood over her for a long moment, and a peek from under her lashes revealed his fingers fisted in the cushy pillow.

  “What are you wearing?” he asked.

  Guilt made her cringe. She reached for the blanket spilling over the edge of the couch and dragged it up to cover her legs. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. I forgot pajamas.”

  Finally, he heaved a sigh, tossed the pillow on the far side of the couch where his head had been, and moved to sit next to her.

  But not too close, she noticed.

  “Sorry,” she said without looking at him.

  “It’s fine. I know you were shook up.”

  “I’m still shook up.” She hugged her legs closer to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. “I can’t stop thinking about him being in my bedroom. And I keep seeing flashes of what he wrote. He didn’t even touch me and I feel so…violated.”

  Dev’s hand moved as if to reach out to her, but then he curled his fingers into a fist on his thigh and leaned against the back of the couch. She wanted to tell him his touch wouldn’t bother her, but she didn’t want to assume that’s why he’d checked himself, so she kept quiet.

  “No one’s going to get near you,” he promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She stared at the black nylon of the gym shorts he’d changed into. What had he done with his gun? Did he have a safe, or was it within reach? She hoped within reach. Because she wanted Dev to have his gun handy if the creep who’d been in her bedroom showed up here.

  “What did he mean that he can’t wait to see me in red?”

  “Shelby, they’re just words.”

  “But what do you think that meant?” She loosened her hold on her legs and twisted slightly to search out his gaze. His profile was half-lit and half-shadows, but even then she saw his jaw clench as he shook his head.

  “I will not let anyone hurt you,” he vowed.

  She had a guess as to what the guy meant, but was afraid to say it out loud. Dev avoiding the question only led weight to her frightening speculation.

  “The best thing you can do is try to put it out of your mind and get some sleep.”

  She ducked her head against her knees again and pushed back into the couch, wanting it to swallow her up so he couldn’t make her leave. “I keep imagining him coming through the bedroom window.”

  “All the windows are locked.”

  “So were mine.”

  Her words hung between them, and in the silence, she heard a clock ticking. She focused on the sound, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.

  Somewhere behind her.

  A sigh bordering on a growl came from Dev’s side of the couch. She scrunched her eyes tight against another annoying sting of tears and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” he said roughly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “And yet you’re still mad.”

  “At the motherfucker messing with your life, not at you.”

  “Okay, good. You’re a little scary when you’re mad.”

  He scoffed. “It hasn’t seemed to faze you one bit.”

  She laughed into the blanket, only to have tears choke her throat.

  “Hey—”

  “Don’t. This isn’t from you,” she assured him as she tossed her hair back and blinked the moisture away. “I’m just feeling helpless and caged in, and I am really tired, but…I don’t want to be alone.” The moment the words were out, she cringed at what he might think she was asking and quickly added, “Can I just stay out here with you?”

  “Both of us on the couch with a perfectly good bed in my room?”

  Cheeks burning, she gave him a wry grin. “Given the past, I wasn’t about to ask you to sleep in there with me.”

  His lips quirked in not quite a smile. “No. I suppose not.” He looked left, hesitated, then reached out to grab the pillow and rest it against his thigh on her side. “Here. Lay down.”

  With her head practically in his lap? Nope. She leaned back into her corner. “I’m good here.”

  “I don’t bite.”

  “No, duh, Dev. I just don’t want to take the whole couch from you, too.”

  He slouched down into the cushions and leaned his head back with yet another all-suffering sigh. “I’ve slept in places that make this couch seem like a luxury feather bed. As long as you don’t take another half-hour to argue a moot point with me, I’ll be just fine.”

  His tone had her clenching her jaw. After one last moment of hesitation, she maneuvered to lie down. “It’s really annoying when you do that,” she muttered as she wiggled into a comfortable position.

  He reached over her to pull the blanket up to her shoulders. “Do what?”

  “Make it sound like I’m being unreasonable when I’m only trying to be considerate.”

  “Is that what I sound lik
e?”

  “You talk to me like I’m still a kid.”

  “It’s more that I’m not used to anyone questioning everything I say.”

  She frowned, her gaze fixed on the dark fireplace across from the couch. “I don’t.”

  He gave a short laugh. “You do.”

  “Well, sorry if I’m not used to having everything in my life controlled,” she retorted.

  But that wasn’t completely true. Her parents—mainly her dad—had been overprotective enough to drive her crazy growing up. Being busy with vet school, she’d gone with the flow until after graduation. It wasn’t until they’d pushed back on her location choice in a less affluent neighborhood for her vet clinic last summer that she’d finally found her voice.

  Now there was no going back, no matter who was ordering her around.

  “It’s not about control,” he explained. “On a mission, it’s about keeping the guys on my team alive. Not following orders gets people hurt. Or killed.”

  Her impulse to point out she wasn’t one of his military missions was quelled by the gruff emotion in his voice. She swallowed past a sudden tightness in her throat. “Is that how you were injured?”

  Tension filled the ensuing silence, and she waited for him to snap it was none of her business.

  “That’s a story for another time,” he finally said. “Go to sleep, Shelby. Please.”

  Surprised he hadn’t completely slammed that door in her face, she squirmed a bit to get more comfortable. Sliding her hand under the pillow, her fingers brushed up against his thigh. He shifted his leg away, and even though she’d jerked back as well, her chest constricted. It was as if after that comforting hug at her apartment, he couldn’t stand to touch her again.

  She squeezed her eyes tight against the hurt, then lay there wide awake, wondering how in the world she was supposed to sleep when she was all too aware of every breath he took?

  Chapter 11

  Dev blinked awake with the dim light of impending sunrise, his body stock-still as he catalogued his surroundings. All was quiet in the house, and Shelby slept soundly on the couch beside him. Or half on him. She’d stretched out, pushing the pillow, her head, and shoulders up onto his lap sometime during the past four hours.