Page 69 of Shea's Hero

“I know.” She sets the pen down and faces me, her earnest gaze meeting mine. “You know I have money because of what happened to my parents. I used some of it for college, and some for the down payment on my house, but I don’t just spend it on anything. This, though? Having a special trip with you? It’s more than worth it.”

My throat goes thick.“Shea.”

“Plus, it’s benefiting the fire department. The police. I can’t think of a better cause. And Iwantto do this. Okay?”

Hugging her to me, I press my lips to her hair, breathing in her soft scent. A surge of emotion sweeps through me, so intense it makes my eyes burn. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support it.”

“Good.” Tilting her head back, she meets my gaze. “Now. Let’s go see about some of those games.” Her lips quirk. “I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I tell her as we leave the room, “to have you with me.”

“Oliver.”

“What? It’s true.”

“Well, I’d say I’m the lucky one.” Shea kisses my cheek. “But I guess we can agree we’re both lucky.”

Once we get to the solarium, which has been transformed into a nicer casino than any I saw when I went to Vegas, Shea stops to scan the room. “What do you think? Poker? Roulette? Roulette sounds easier, but poker seems like more fun.”

“Poker first,” I reply, while hoping the skills I picked up in college still hold true today. “Then roulette. If that works?”

“Yup.” Swinging my hand a little as we walk towards the poker tables, she gives me a happy smile. “This is great. I’m so glad we came.”

My heart swells. “Me too.”

But just as we’re about to take a seat at the table, an unfamiliar male voice calls out, “Shea Walsh? Is that you?”

Shea jolts, her fingers tightening around mine. Instinctively, I draw her closer to me, wrapping my arm around her. “Are you okay?”

She looks in the direction of the voice, sagging a second later. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m fine. I didn’t recognize the voice at first, but?—”

Before she can explain, the mystery man—at least to me—is in front of us. He’s older, maybe fifty or so, with salt and pepper hair and a trimmed goatee. He ignores me completely, his focus entirely on Shea. In a clipped, nasal tone, he says, “Oh, Shea. It’s so lovely to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, too.” But her tight smile says otherwise.

His gaze flicks across her body, not in a sexual way, but still assessing. “And you’re looking well. That’s good.”

My jaw clenches hard enough to break stone.

Who is this man, and why is he commenting on Shea’s body?

“Thanks,” she replies with a forced cheerful note to her tone. “This is my boyfriend, Oliver Kingston.” Then she glances at me. “Oliver, this is Doctor Black. We… worked together several years ago.”

“Yes, we did,” he adds. “And I must say, it’s such a pleasure to see you here.”

Shea is stiff against me. She has a death grip on my hand. “It’s nice to see you, too, Doctor Black.”

“Yes,” he continues, the same pleasant smile glued to his face, seemingly oblivious to Shea’s stilted responses. “I have a new practice now. Out in Bedford.”

“Oh.” Her face pales. “That’s nice.”

Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but it’s obvious tomeshe’s uncomfortable. “Shea, honey.” As she looks at me, I say, “I think I see Mrs. Plimpton over by the blackjack table. I thought you wanted to catch her before she leaves?”

Relief floods her gaze. “Yes. I do need to talk to her.” To Doctor Black, she says apologetically, “Sorry, but I’ve been looking for her all night. It’s been nice seeing you, though.”

That’s a lot ofnices.Way more than Shea would usually use.

“Of course.” The doctor gives her a crisp nod. “Good seeing you, Shea. Again, glad to see you doing so well.”

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