Shay stepped forward and sat next to Kent, grabbing the brochure and explaining everything to him. A few minutes later, Kent nodded. “I’ll do it. I…” His voice cracked and Shay realized he was crying. Kent. Her big, badass brother cried. And so did her big, badass father. Shay and her mother followed.
Caleb stood above them all, a silent source of strength. The room fed off of it, the pillar in a world that wobbled left and right, and steadied in the center—with him. Shay knew she did.
A knock sounded at the door, and Shay cast Caleb an inquiring look. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Right on time,” he said, and headed to the door.
He returned with Bobby and Ryan by his side. Shay swallowed hard at the sight they made, the three men standing there, all tall, broad and foreboding. For the first time, Shay realized they were lethal. Not that she hadn’t known. They were Special Forces. But standing there, aligned together in readiness, they were both frightening and magnificent.
“Let’s go see your bookie,” Caleb said to Kent.
Kent pushed to his feet. “I’m ready.” He walked to stand with the other men, and Ryan and Bobby gave him room to fall into the lineup next to Caleb. Instantly, Kent stood a little stronger, his demeanor more confident and determined. Shay’s heart squeezed at the strength that having Caleb around gave him, gave them all.
“Call us when you get back to Caleb’s place,” Sharon ordered.
“I’ll call,” Kent said. “And I’ll be okay.”
Caleb motioned to Shay to follow him outside, and relief fluttered through her. Good. He wasn’t shutting her out. Shay stepped onto the front porch as Bobby and Ryan climbed in one vehicle and Kent climbed behind the wheel of his own truck.
Caleb handed her his keys. “Take my truck,” he said. “Kent will drop me by later to pick it up.” He turned away.
Shay stepped toward him and touched his arm. “Caleb, wait.” He glanced over his shoulder, didn’t even turn back to her. She swallowed hard and said, “Be careful.”
He gave her a steely stare and nodded before stepping out of her reach, again, leaving her alone. And this time, she wasn’t so sure she wasn’t going to stay that way.
17
KENT PULLED INTO Shay’s driveway, and Caleb shoved open the passenger’s door and hesitated. He didn’t want to talk to Shay right now. He needed space, some time to think, but he wasn’t up to playing nice in front of Kent, either. “I’ll just grab the keys, and then we can go. I know you’re anxious to get to the trailer and get settled, but hang tight, will you? If you’re waiting for me, Shay’ll have to tame the question-and-answer session I’m sure is headed my way.”
“You want me to come in with you?” Kent asked.
“The idea is to get out of here quickly,” Caleb reminded him. “You wait, with the truck running.”
“Copy that,” Kent said. “Good luck with the twenty questions.”
Caleb slammed the door and headed to Shay’s front porch about the time she appeared in the entryway. Instinctively, the male part of him responded, the part that wanted Shay more than he wanted his next breath. His gaze swept her navy blue sweats and then the light blue-and-navy T-shirt that hugged her high breasts and accented her narrow waist. Caleb silently cursed his raging hormones and the damn stretch of his zipper.
“Is Kent okay?” she asked eagerly, glancing over her shoulder to the running truck, headlights on dim.
“Everything is fine,” he said. “The bookie is paid, and he knows Kent won’t be back for more action.” Discouraging conversation, he got to the point. “I came for my keys.”
“Come in while I grab them,” she said, stepping back to let him in. He didn’t move, and she whispered, “Please.”
Forcing himself to make eye contact, he regretted it the moment he did. Her eyes were as blue as her shirt, a mixture of sea and sky, torment and hope, that he yearned to unravel and understand.
Caleb shoved his hands in his pockets, so he wouldn’t touch her. “We both know that’s not a good idea.”
She stepped forward, started to touch him and hugged herself instead. The scent of perfume and Shay created a powerful drag on his willpower.
“I don’t want to spend two weeks without you,” she said. “I don’t want to spend tonight without you.”
“But you’re willing,” he said.
“Because it’s necessary,” she added. “My father cried, Caleb. My father. The timing is wrong.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “And if I believed for a minute that was really what was going on between us, I’d accept that answer. But I don’t. I get that you’re not comfortable going public. And I’m not comfortable running around like some school kid with his hand in the cookie jar. And frankly, at this point, if you told me you wanted to go public, I’d say no because I’d know you did it because I’d pressured you. I don’t want you like that, any more than I want to sneak around.” He ran his hand over his hair. “I need the keys, Shay. And we need some space to think.”