Page 24 of Shane
“I asked if you’re ready to get out of here.” His voice had turned deep and demanding. “My dogs have had enough and tomorrow comes early.”
Everlee doubted those were the real reasons he wanted to leave, but she let it slide. Slapping her palms to her knees, she jumped to her feet and replied, “Anytime you’re ready, big guy.”
They said their goodbyes, and an hour later—because, hello, this was a big crowd and there were a lot of goodbyes to be said—Everlee walked to the curb where Shane had parked his king-cab pickup. Black, of course. While he opened the backseat door for his girls to jump in, praised them, and snapped their harnesses onto the two short leashes fastened there, she grabbed hold of the suicide handles inside the front seat passenger door. Planting her big, black boot carefully on the running board—because hey, she was a fall hazard—she hefted her butt up and into the front seat, shut her own door, and fastened her own seat belt. She was independent and proud of it. Why wait around for some guy when she could do everything herself. Smart thinking, huh?
Dog safety was important, and Shane took extra good care of his girls. He should. Dogs were like children. You took care of them, or you had no business getting a‘cute widdle puppy’in the first place.
But once, just once in her life, Everlee wished he’d opened the door for her like a gentleman did for the woman he cared about. What would it feel like to be the center of someone’s whole world? To be cared for as much as Shane cared for his girls?
Honestly? She had no idea.
And apparently, Shane was no gentleman.
Chapter Eight
Shane couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a definite buzz inside his truck while he followed Everlee’s directions to her apartment complex, Arlington Heights. Which was an odd name for anything, since Arlington, Virginia, was way east of the new TEAM HQ and Alex’s castle-like home.
“Next left, then take the first right, and you’re there,” Everlee said quietly. “You can’t miss it. Second building straight back. Let me off by the Dumpster. Gives me less distance to walk.”
“Sure. No problem.” Shane cast a quick sideways glance her way.
Seemed like most agents lived nearby TEAM HQ. Several had recently moved from Seattle, and the others had given up their homes closer to Washington, DC, for the lazy life of western Virginia. Everlee, along with Paige Royal, the Seattle’s TEAM office manager, and several guys, were some of those Seattle transplants. Only Everlee had been at the picnic tonight. The rest of them were still on extended leave, moving households.
But Shane was pretty sure that off-kilter buzz was coming from her. Except for her succinct directions, Everlee hadn’t said much since they’d left the Stewarts. Her bossy, energetic other half was nowhere in sight.
Shane was drawn to Everlee. Had been since she’d spit coffee in his face. How could a recluse like him not be drawn to a woman with as much fire in her gut and attitude as Everlee Yeager? She was a good foot shorter than him, which made him feel taller and bigger, meaner, and okay, for some reason, protective of her. Wasn’t that a kick? Him feeling protective of a former Chief of Security Forces, which made her an officer to his enlisted rank? Not that rank mattered now that they were both civilians again. But neither did a trained police officer with plenty of attitude need any guy’s protection. She could take care of herself, and he was a sexist for even thinking she couldn’t.
Plus, Everlee was carrying. That might explain why she’d kept her distance from everyone else tonight. Shane wasn’t, hadn’t been all night, not with so many kids around. He’d left his holster in his truck and his pistol stuck to the magnetic strip under his dash, where it was still safely secured. But accessible.
More than once he’d thought about joining Everlee on that lonely bench tonight. But each time he’d headed her way, he’d been sidelined, if not by one of the guys, then by the kids or one of the Stewarts. He’d had a great time meeting everyone, hadn’t felt an inkling of tension, which was surprising in a crowd that size. Maybe because everyone there was former military, married into the military, or was born under the flag. They all spoke the same language. Yet Shane couldn’t help thinking he should’ve paid more attention to Everlee.
Obediently, he made the left turn, took the first right, and drove easily through the deeper than normal gutter at her apartment complex entry. Arlington Heights was a collection of rectangular, colonial-style buildings. Decent. Tidy. Painted white with large, black-stamped eagles at the center front of all buildings. Doric columns lined the rear porticoes. The glass entrance doors were tinted black, and judging by the keypads at each entry, only residents were allowed access.
Sixteen multipaned windows lined both first and second levels, front and back. Well-cared for and colorful flowerbeds bordered each building. Sidewalks ran between the grassy areas between the buildings. Covered numbered parking stalls lined the rear section of the eight-foot-high brick wall that encompassed the entire complex. A rear driveway offered additional egress. The place seemed quiet and calm tonight, and it was good knowing Everlee lived in a secure, safe facility. Just as good as knowing where both exits were.
He refused to just drop Everlee off at the Dumpster, though. Like hell. That unsettling buzz had grown stronger, so he pulled into the nearest visitor stall, shifted into PARK, and turned to his too-quiet passenger. “Here we are.”
Yup, the buzzing was coming from Everlee. She all but radiated tension. The cords in her neck were tight and stiff. Her head was down, and her gaze was on the floor. Her body was wound as tight as a rubber band about to let a spit wad fly. Was she scared? Why?
Shane reached out and laid a hand on her forearm, in case there was something she wanted to tell him. “What do you need me to do?”
She jumped at his touch. “Nothing. Can’t we just” —her throat worked hard to make that swallow go down— “leave? Maybe take a long ride around the block or something?” She cranked her chin up, looked him in the eye, and added, “Please?”
It was the faint tremor to her usual cocky tone and the un-Everlee-like shine in her brown eyes that spurred Shane to action. “Yes, ma’am,” he declared. She was afraid, and he didn’t need to know why. Slamming his truck into reverse, he pulled a short, sharp K-turn out of the parking space and aimed for the rear exit. Easy in. Just as easy out. Well, except for another steep speed bump. Because his truck sat so high, he had to slow down and crawl over the humongous thing.
They were nearly out the rear exit when some jerk in a universal-camouflage-patterned uniform—otherwise known as the US Army’s digicam crap—jumped out from behind another Dumpster and waved his arms for Shane to stop.
Shane slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting the guy.
“God,” Everlee whispered. “Why can’t he leave me alone?”
Good question, one Shane was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to ask out loud. But GI Joe there might explain the tension in Everlee. “Who is this guy? Were you expecting him?”
“Not exactly,’” she answered even as she shook her head, then nodded. “But yeah. I knew he’d show up one of these days. Sorry.” Everlee unsnapped her seatbelt.
Shane wasn’t about to let her face this jerk alone. He put the truck back into PARK right there in the middle of the exit, shrugged out of his seatbelt, and jumped to the ground. In a few quick steps, he was in the guy’s face. “Can I help you?” he asked, keeping his tone civil and his body language relaxed. For now.
Anger suffused the air between him and this guy, who had his fists up. “Where you been with my wife?”