Page 49 of Shea's Hero

“That sounds nice. But… could we do something first?”

“Sure. What is it? A shower? Do you want to call Niall again? I know you didn’t talk to him long at the hospital?—”

“No.” Shea turns in my lap so she’s straddling me, her legs tucked up on either side of mine. “First, I want to do this.”

Then she leans in and kisses me.

It’s soft at first. Slow. Tender.

Her hands come to my cheeks, cool and soft against my skin.

I cup her nape, threading my fingers through her hair. But I don’t pull her towards me, rather letting Shea take control.

She traces the seam of my lips, teasing them open and dipping inside.

The kiss grows deeper. More intense. More passionate.

Shea strokes my tongue with hers, and I meet each move with a matching one of my own.

While my body would like nothing better than to lay Shea out on the couch and kiss her all over, to worship this beautiful woman I’m lucky enough to have in my arms, it’s not the time. Not now.

And this is just as good. This connection between us that goes deeper than words. A connection that might have been cracked for a while, but never broken.

When Shea finally draws back, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are a sparkling blue. The shadows from earlier are gone.

She places one hand above my heart, her gaze burning into mine. “Oll.”

“Yeah, Shea?”

“I promise. I’mneverleaving you again.”

CHAPTER 11

SHEA

Maybe I should have skipped breakfast today.

Not to lose weight, no. I’m not falling into that trap again.

But the oatmeal I had an hour ago is sitting like a rock in my stomach, lurching around every so often to make itself known. Little surges of nausea keep hitting me, bringing with them a burning sensation in my throat.

That’s not even taking into account my wobbly legs and tightening lungs, another unpleasant side effect of my growing anxiety.

As we walk from Oliver’s car to the back entrance of the Blade and Arrow headquarters, a large restored office building on the outskirts of Sleepy Hollow, I’m clutching his hand so tightly I’m afraid I might cut off the circulation to his fingers.

I wasn’t this nervous when I woke up this morning. I had a few flutters of nerves before breakfast, but Oliver was so sweet, serving me breakfast on the couch and entertaining me with some of the crazier calls he’s had, I soon forgot all about it. It was more interesting to hear about quirky Mrs. Plimpton’s stubborn insistence that her neighbor was burying a body in his yard,when it actually ended up that poor Mr. Davidson was just trying to air out his oriental carpet after the roof leaked all over it.

“You wouldn’t believe some of the calls,” Oliver told me with a wry smile. “We had one guy call because he swore he spotted blocks of cocaine in his neighbor’s garage. They were styrofoam bricks he was going to use to make a fake igloo for the holiday parade.”

So it really wasn’t too bad until we got into the car to come over here, and the reality of it set in.

This is a meeting to discuss not just the abduction attempt, which was scary enough on its own, but the guy who attacked me at my house. We’re going to have to talk about all the terrifying possibilities for why he was there, and what might have happened if I didn’t get away from him.

More questions will probably come up about my background and all the people I know who could possibly want to hurt me. I went over it once, the day after the attack at the Hop-less Horseman, and it was unpleasant enough then. It’s definitely not something I’m looking forward to doing again.

And at some point, we’ll get to the protection part of things, which I’m really dreading.

I know it’s not fair to expect constant protection at my house. Oliver already told me the police department won’t approve it—they would rather send me to a safe house instead. But that sounds awful. Me, alone in some hotel room while a police officer waits outside? Just the thought makes me feel anxious and sick all over.

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