Page 17 of Shea's Hero

Maybe I made a mistake coming here.

As I stand on the front step of Shea’s little ranch, I wonder if it’s too late to turn around and go home. But of course it is; I can see the little doorbell camera right there, so obviously she knows I’m here. I can’t leave now.

Man. I haven’t felt this insecure about seeing a woman since… Well. The first time I approached Shea.

I’d been jogging through Turkey Run Park in McLean, not a place I usually went to, but I wanted a change of scenery. It was winter, so I wasn’t expecting to see many other people out, but all of a sudden, there she was. Sitting on a stone bench overlooking the water, all bundled up and wearing a fuzzy red hat with a little pompom at the top.

Despite the perception some people have of CIA agents being suave and confident like James Bond, I wasn’t. Maybe on the job I was, but when it came to approaching women? Not even close.

But there was just something about her. Not just how pretty she was, her cheeks all pink from the cold and her dark hair catching glints of copper and bronze in the winter sun, but she just had this… way about her.

Shea had a journal on her lap and she was just looking out at the water with a wistful look on her face. While my brain was telling me she probably wanted to be left alone, my feet didn’t want to listen. As I approached her, I was mentally preparing myself for a rejection, but instead, she invited me to join her.

And that was it. I never believed that people could just know from the moment they met, but with Shea… She changed my mind.

Or at least, until everything fell apart.

Dammit.

This isn’t good for either of us, showing up like this. Dredging up old memories. Old hurts. I’ll just give her a quick update, make up some excuse like I was meeting a colleague with the White Plains PD, and be on my way. Five minutes, no more.

“Hang on.” Shea’s voice filters through the door. “There are all these new?—”

Something metallic rattles. A deadbolt slides open. Then the door swings open to reveal a flustered Shea, cheeks pink and forehead creased with frustration. “Sorry,” she continues, puffing a loose strand of hair off her face. “Leo installed all these new locks. So it takes me five minutes just to unlock them all.”

“Well. Locks are good.”

Did I really just say that? Locks are good?

A corner of her mouth quirks up. “I suppose they are.” She stares at me for a second, tiny lines of worry forming between her eyes. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“No.”

What is wrong with me? Somehow, I’ve transformed from a highly-trained law enforcement officer into a babbling idiot.

“No? No, everything’s not okay? Or no, nothing happened?”

Puffing out a sigh, I try again. “Sorry. Everything’s okay. Nothing happened. I just wanted to stop by to give you an update on the case.”

“Okay…” Shea takes a step back and gestures for me to come in. “But Kane called yesterday. And Niall?—”

“I know. But I was thinking probably no one called you today. So I just thought?—”

“You’d drive all the way to White Plains to tell me?”

Well. When she puts it that way… “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any questions. Concerns.”

As I shut the door behind me and latch the deadbolt, Shea snorts. “Questions, no. Concerns, yes. But unless the men are in custody, I’m not sure my concerns really matter.”

“Of course they do.” I take a moment to inspect her face, noting the bluish smudges under her eyes and the blossoming bruise on her cheek. “If you’re worried, or scared…”

Shea walks over to the couch and perches on one arm. Absently, she plucks at the fabric as she says, “I’m okay, Oll.”

But she doesn’tlookokay. Not the dark circles or the bruise or the pallor of her skin. And not the way she’s fussing at the couch in that anxious way she always did when she was nervous.

I’m not saying that, though. Instead, I change the subject. “Where are Niall and Jade?”

“They went home. Their flight left first thing this morning.”

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