Page 27 of Fatal Vision
“It’s Good Hope. The most crime we have here are kids vandalizing the cemetery at Halloween.”
“True, but…” He set the bowl on the floor for the dog before he took the chair and the last plate. “You were shot on your own front steps.”
This was familiar territory, him playing the role of protector, and never happy with her view on life and freedom. She’d grown up in the public eye, often surrounded by bodyguards—discreet ones because her dad didn’t want to admit the Lord might not always protect him from harm, but bodyguards nonetheless. She valued her freedom now as an adult and she had the skills to stop most any attacker.
Most any. The key words.
The pot roast was tender and melted in her mouth, nearly making her moan in ecstasy. Premiere’s chefs could learn a thing or two from her mother. “I’m a trained FBI agent with a near-perfect record,” she said, swallowing a bite, “and as much defense training as you.”
He snickered. “In your dreams, Claiborne. That crap the Bureau feeds you about being on the same level with Special Ops soldiers in the field is a bunch of shit and you know it. And need I remind you, that yes, you’re an FBI agent, but one currently using a walker to get around. I’m putting in a high-tech security system tomorrow. The best available. My boss is shipping it overnight. Should be here first thing in the morning.”
While she’d encountered plenty of people in her life with the stubborn gene and some rock-solid ideologies about life, death, and how the world worked, she’d never been able to sway him from his convictions and principles.
The world according to Colton Bells. It wasn’t all bad, and he had some tried-and-true canons, but his inability to compromise, or give, even a little, had put a strain on their marriage like so many other things.
Rather than argue, Shelby decided to try a different tactic. “Thank you. Please let your boss know I appreciate his helping us out.”
“Her.”
She scooped up another bite, and wiped at her lips. “Excuse me?”
“My boss is a woman. Her boss—the guy who actually built the Vesper EX—is the owner and CEO of the company, but Emit likes to tinker with gadgets and build software. Beatrice likes running things. She’s a genius by the way. An honest-to-God real one with a staggering IQ and photographic memory. Just had a baby a few weeks ago and she’s already back to making my life hell.”
Shelby grinned. “She sounds awesome.”
He paused with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth and arched one brow. “Watch it, there, Claiborne, or I’ll take your chow away.”
She hugged the plate closer, trying not to spill juice on her shirt. “You wouldn’t.”
“I most certainly would.”
Something sparked between them. Shelby felt it buzz along her skin. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His eyes went a soft, liquid brown. The color of spiced rum. “Me too.”
But then he dropped his gaze and went back to gobbling his food. Salisbury had already finished his dinner, and sat nearby, wagging his tail and panting as he eyed her plate. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth.
Apparently both of the males in the room were after her prized pot roast.
Once she finished, Colton said little, taking the plates downstairs and returning with a glass of water for her.
“I’m going to wash up,” she told him, using her walker to stand. “You know where the linens are if you want to make up the bed in the spare room.”
Something close to chagrin passed over his face and he nodded, his gaze going to the floor. “I can sleep on the couch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need sleep and the spare bed is available. Besides, this way you’ll be close by if I need help.”
He held her elbow as she crossed to the bathroom and made sure she had clean pajamas. Then he stood by the door. “I’ll be right out here, in case.”
Someone had been with her 24/7 since she’d woken from the coma. It had driven her nuts these last few weeks, but it had also been a safety net. If she tripped or fell, someone was there to rescue her. She hated being weak, but her body had a mind of its own.
So a part of her was relieved he’d be so close. The memory of him carrying her to bed, his solid heartbeat in her ears, relaxed the anxiety humming under her breastbone. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. Salisbury and I are at your beck and call.”
His smile didn’t make it to his eyes. He was dead on his feet.
Shelby did her best to hurry through her bedtime routine, but it didn’t help that the bathroom sink backed up while she was brushing her teeth. Leaning across her walker, she opened the door. “While you’re here, can you look at the sink? It still backs up all the time.”
