Page 24 of Shea's Hero

As soon as I see Shea, it’s like I’ve been thrown back in time.

She’s standing by the security desk near the entrance, her gaze glued to the double glass doors, and her face lights up with pleasure as she sees me come through them. In a light-blue button-up shirt and tailored gray pants, she looks professional, but still effortlessly sexy, just as she always has.

Shea doesn’t need clinging clothes or daring necklines to show off her curves, just like heavy makeup and elaborate hairstyles aren’t necessary to emphasize her beauty. Not that there’s anything wrong with all the extras, but Shea is stunning all on her own.

With a little wave, she starts across the lobby towards me, her lips curving into a tentative smile. Several men turn to stare at her as she passes, but she’s oblivious, her attention solely focused on me.

It’s so much like how things used to be, when I’d pick her up after work at her office in Bethesda. She would wait downstairs in reception, her face brightening when she saw me, like it was the very best part of her day. Reserved at her workplace, she’dwait until we got outside to give me a huge hug and a long kiss before proclaiming how much she missed me.

It didn’t matter how long we’d been apart—an hour, a day, or a month—Shea always told me just how she felt. That she missed me. That she had been thinking about me all day.

That she loved me.

But obviously, there were things she held back, because I had no idea she was going to break up with me until it happened.

Not ten feet away, Shea hesitates, her pace slowing. The smile on her face dips. A shadow dims the light in her eyes.

Then I feel the muscles in my jaw clenching, and I realize my face must have given my emotions away. Not the wistful reminiscence of pleasant memories, but the frustration and hurt that still resurges whenever I remember how things between us ended.

“Oll?” As she approaches, her bright blue eyes widen with concern. In a soft voice, she asks, “Is everything okay?”

Shit.

Is it possible Shea’s even more beautiful than she used to be?

Despite the bruise still marring her delicate features, she looks like a fairy-tale princess, like the ones in the stories Maya used to make me read to her when she was little. Like Snow White, really, with glossy dark hair and creamy skin and those gorgeous eyes that shift from Atlantic blue to a deep sapphire depending on her mood.

Am I just opening myself up for more disappointment?

On my way over, I rationalized why it was a good idea to meet. Closure. Maybe I’ll get answers that will help me finally move on. And with Niall working for Blade and Arrow now, it’s likely I’ll run into Shea again.

Now I’m not so sure.

Gruffly, I reply, “Everything’s fine. Are you ready?”

She bites her lip. Her gaze drops to the floor. “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay. I can call B and A. Ask them to send someone to pick me up.”

Guilt fills my chest. I didn’t have to come. But when Shea texted me, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. To suggest meeting today, no less. I offered to pick her up from work, for Pete’s sake. And here I am, acting like I don’t want to be here.

The sad look on Shea’s face is because of me.

No matter what happened between us, I don’t want to hurt her. Maybe I was bitter in the beginning and said some harsh things, but who wouldn’t have in my situation?

“No, I haven’t changed my mind.” Gentling my tone, I touch her arm before adding, “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Her gaze jumps to mine, understanding in her eyes. “If you’re too tired, we can do this another day, Oll. You must have a rough schedule. I should have thought of that before?—”

“Shea, I’m the one who suggested meeting today. My schedule is fine.” With a smile, I add, “I noticed a coffee shop up the street. Do you want to go there? Or would you prefer to go home to change first?”

What I don’t mention is I actually got here fifteen minutes early so I could scope out the safest place to take Shea. Even though I’m confident in my skills—I might not be former Special Forces, but I’ve done my fair share of training for the CIA at the Farm and the Point—I have no intention of going anywhere with Shea without surveilling it first.

And the coffee shop one block down looks like the ideal place. I can get Shea there quickly, it has booths along the back wall with full visibility of the front entrance, and there’s an exit to the back alley right nearby, if we need to make a quick escape.

Not that I think anything is going to happen, not in broad daylight, on one of the busiest roads in White Plains, but I’m not taking any chances.

“The coffee shop is fine. And I don’t need to change.” Uncertainty flickers across Shea’s face. “Unless you think I should?”

“No. Of course not. You look great.”

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