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.”
She stared at him, her blue eyes glistening, more powerful than any enemy’s weapon he’d ever faced. She turned away and not a second too soon. Caleb had no idea how he kept from reaching for her. She returned with the keys and walked straight up to stand in front of him. Close. So close that her unique scent, all feminine and floral, flared in his nostrils, warming him…all but demanding he bury his face in her neck and then kiss her.
She took his hand and pressed the keys to his palm, staring down at their joined hands. “I do love you, Caleb.”
“We’ve always loved each other, Shay,” he said softly. “It just never seems to be our time.” He untangled his hands from hers and walked away. And she let him. She let him because her brother was watching. Actions spoke volumes, beyond words.
SHAY SPENT THE NIGHT tossing and turning, miserable without Caleb, tormented by his insistence they should take these two weeks to “think.” She’d picked up the phone countless times to call him. Cried. Paced. Took a hot bath. Paced some more. And then she got angry. By morning her helplessness had transformed to outright fire, and she knew she had to take action.
Being Sunday morning, Shay knew Caleb would have a sunrise jump. She pulled into the Hotzone parking lot a little past nine, when she knew he’d be finishing up.
She walked into the office and found Sabrina behind the desk, which meant Ryan was working. “Hey, Shay,” she said. “I didn’t know you were coming, too, this morning. Before long, Caleb will be sweet-talking you into covering the front desk, like Ryan to does me.”
Doubtful, thought Shay, but instead she said, “I’m not a morning person, so he’ll be surprised to see me.” She tried to smile, but it just didn’t happen. “Where is he?”
“He should be pulling up any minute in one of the jeeps,” she said. “The plane’s already returned.” She frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Ask me after I talk to Caleb,” she said, and she didn’t wait for an answer. Shay headed to the back door where she could get to the four operating hangars, knowing Caleb’s jeep would pull up behind the first.
She squinted against the new sun piercing the horizon, the air already hot and sticky enough to make her jeans and T-shirt feel overdressed. A jeep appeared in the distance, and Shay tracked its path, noting three men inside.
Caleb parked the jeep with two customers inside. Another jeep barreled up behind it, but Shay looked right through it. She had Caleb in sight, and she suddenly felt hotter than hot, and it had nothing to do with the sun. She was ticked.
Shay charged toward Caleb as he rounded the jeep, and damn him, he looked good enough to eat in his flight suit. Surprise flickered in his face when he saw her, and he murmured something to the men, who headed toward the building.
“We have to talk,” she said, coming almost toe-to toe with him, her chin lifting to allow a good, heartfelt glare. “Now. Today.”
“Then you’ll have to jump. I have several customers waiting.”
“Jump?” she declared, her anger replaced by panic.
From behind, Shay heard, “What’s up, Shay?”
She recognized Kent’s voice before he appeared by their side, dressed in a flight suit to match Caleb’s. Shay cringed. She should have guessed Caleb would bring Kent to jump today.
Caleb answered, “Shay’s jumping.”
“No way are you jumping,” Kent said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Ryan walked by with several customers on his heel
s. He gave Shay a nod and waved Kent forward. “If you’re going up with me again, bring your ass on.”
Caleb tugged Shay forward. Shay dug in her heels. “I’m not jumping.”
He turned to her and hugged her close. “Jump with me, Shay.”
There was something about the way he said it, the way he was looking at her, that made her forget Kent might be watching. As if he were asking her for more than a skydiving jump. Her chest tightened. “I’m scared.”
He brushed hair out of her eyes and stared down at her. “I know,” he said. “Maybe one day you won’t be. Maybe one day you’ll be ready to jump.” He released her, and turned and jogged toward the building. And again, Shay stood staring after him. Alone. Trying to understand what had just happened, because she was pretty sure neither of them had been talking about skydiving.
THREE EVENINGS LATER, Shay was still at work at seven, having long ago moved to her couch, kicked off her black heels and stacked files on the coffee table for easy access. And with her feet tucked by her side, her black skirt above the knees—modesty of little concern since she’d long ago sent her secretary home and she was alone—she was determined to catch up on paperwork. And if she were honest with herself, which wasn’t exactly her current preference, she was avoiding going home alone—translation: without Caleb—for a few more hours.
At present, though, Shay ended a call with the treatment center Kent would be checking into, his arrangements finalized for a week from Saturday. Eager to share the news, Shay dialed Kent. Disappointingly, he didn’t answer, and she left a detailed message. He was eager to get this behind him, and she wanted him to know he was one step closer. Shay hesitated and considered calling Caleb, but then set the phone down as if burned.
She hadn’t heard from him, not since he’d asked her to jump with him and she’d told him she was scared. Ever since, well…she didn’t know what to say to him, and clearly he didn’t have anything to say to her. She didn’t even remember exactly what she’d planned to say to him when she’d charged up to him and demanded they talk. Something along the lines of “Damn it, why do you get to say when it’s the right or wrong time for us?” At least, she thought that was the general idea. Her mind was too cluttered to be certain. All she knew was she missed him. And she was, indeed, scared, and she wasn’t even completely sure why.
The idea of figuring it out had Shay snatching a file to read. She would not think about Caleb. She’d get her work done. It was the strategy that had gotten her past the last few days. It would get her through tonight. Exhaustion certainly helped lessen the pain of sleeping alone in a bed with his scent all over it.
Not ten minutes later though, her phone rang. As suming it was Kent, she answered without checking caller ID.
“Doc,” came the male sob.
Shay sat up straight, the file in her lap tumbling to the ground. “What’s wrong, George?”
“I want to see Jessie again,” he said, referring to his dead wife.
Shay went completely still, realizing George was no longer happy, and he was absolutely not okay. Her worst fear had come true. Something in this new relationship had gone horribly wrong. “Jessie is with you, George,” she said. “Remember we’ve talked about this. Jessie is watching out for you.”
“I don’t want her to watch me anymore,” he said, and this time it was clear he was crying. “I want to touch her and hold her and smell the scent of her on my skin. I need her. I’m going to see her.”
Shay stood up and struggled to get her shoes on, admitting that George had reverted to a dangerous emotional place she’d hoped they were long past. “George,” she said urgently. “Are you at home? Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“The Hyatt Regency downtown,” he said. “On the roof.” He hung up.
Shay ran for her purse and keys and dialed information as she headed to the hallway. She took the stairs for speed and cell-phone reception, and asked the customer service rep at the Hyatt for the manager of the hotel.
“What’s this regarding?” the woman asked.
“It’s an emergency,” she said. “I’m a doctor. One of my patients is there, and…” She stopped. She had no way of knowing if George was really suicidal. And alerting the police might not be the best option. She had a close colleague who’d once had a patient threaten to kill himself. He’d hidden in a field of high grass with a rifle. Her colleague had called the police, and the patient had pulled the trigger when one of the cops was in the grass a few feet from finding him. To this day, that colleague was convinced that calling the police had pushed her patient over the edge. Shay hung up the phone, sick to her stomach with the possibility that it was the wrong choice not to alert the hotel.
“They’d have called the police,” she whispered. At the bottom of the stairwell, she ran to her car and didn’t even wait for the car to stop before she switched from Reverse and slammed it in forward gear. She jerked into motion and fretfully contemplated her options.
By the time she reached the highway headed downtown, she could think of only one person who could help.
Shay dialed her phone, praying Caleb would answer. Praying he wasn’t on a sunset jump. He answered on the third ring. “Hello, Shay,” he said.
His voice was warm, encouraging, and it opened a floodgate for Shay. “My patient…George—I think he might be about to try to commit suicide, but I’m afraid to call the police…in case that pushes him to actually do it. He wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t want to be stopped. I’m going to him now, but I—”
“Where is he?” Caleb said. “And where are you?”
“He says he’s on the roof of the downtown Hyatt, off Sixth Street. I’m halfway there.”
“I know where it’s at,” he said, “and I’m already walking to my truck.”
She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Caleb.”
“It’ll be okay, Shay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He hung up, and Shay breathed just a little easier through the remaining ten-minute drive.
Shay pulled into the Hyatt parking lot and took the stairs to the lobby level. After a tortuously long elevator ride, another set of stairs sent her and her high heels into blister-and-gasp territory, but she heaved through it. She burst through the door of the roof, and stopped abruptly. George was there all right, standing with his back to her, his feet dangerously close to the edge of the building.
Terror gripped Shay. It would be so easy for George to go over that ledge. And so easy for her to say or do the wrong thing that it was almost paralyzing. The minute she began interacting, the reactions would begin. The chance for error would exist.
Behind her, the door creaked. A second later, Caleb stepped to her side. He glanced at George, and if he was rattled, he didn’t show it, didn’t so much as blink. He turned toward her, and lifted the blue-jean jacket he wore, to display a harness strap with rope attached, she assumed he planned to use it to link himself with George. The very fact that Caleb wasn’t unprepared to take action was comforting as long as she didn’t think about how Caleb might actually try to get that harness on George and how easily he might go over the wall with George in the process.
Caleb wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, the unique scent of him invading her senses, a comforting scent she inhaled, as he whispered, “Get me to that ledge with him. Tell him I’m a friend you called for moral support. Make sure he knows I’m not with the authorities.”
Her hand pressed to his chest, the heat and sound of his heartbeat radiating comfort. She nodded, and he ran his hand down her hair. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart, and trust your instincts. You’ll be fine and so will he.”
Shay absorbed the words, and let her determination form. She was getting George off that ledge. She started walking, watching George closely as she approached. He wasn’t a large man—five foot nine and a hundred and fifty pounds dripping wet by her estimate. Often she’d thought of him as effeminate and a bit frail. But standing on that ledge, hi
s spine stiff, he looked bigger, more confident than usual. Almost as if he were empowered, ready to jump.
She was only a few feet away from him when he turned, his gaze shooting to Caleb. “Who is he? Who’d you bring with you?”
“I’m a friend,” Caleb said, easing closer. “Shay called me when she was on her way over here, said she needed me. She was worried and didn’t want to call the police.”
“What kind of friend?” George asked suspiciously.
Caleb stopped beside Shay and shoved his hands in his pockets, giving her a quick look before answering. “I’ll just say this…about three days ago she had me ready to stand on that ledge by your side. Who put you up there?”
“Anabella,” he said. “She wanted me for the money I inherited from my Jessie. She knew Jessie. She knew about the money.”
Caleb said, “That’s when you tell her you only wanted her for the sex, and it wasn’t that damn good anyway. I mean it’s not like you knew her long, right? What else could it have been about?”
George actually laughed, the intensity in him dropping a good two notches. “I wish I had it in me to think of snappy comebacks like that.” He turned somber. “I thought I loved her.”
“So the sex was good?” Caleb asked. “Because good sex has a way of doing that.” Caleb turned to Shay. “And no, we aren’t about sex. At least it’s not about sex to me.” He eyed George. “You’re about to get me in trouble.”
George grinned at Shay. “Is it about sex to you?”
“No!” she said.
“But it’s good, right?” Caleb asked.
Shay could feel her face redden. “Okay, both of you. This isn’t the time or place to be talking about this. George. Come down right now. I can’t talk to you while you’re standing there.”
He shook his head. “No. No, I can’t.”
She softened. “Anabella might seem like a mistake to you,” she said, “but she woke you up, George. She made you live life again.”
“I don’t want to live again,” he said. “It hurts.”