“Sounds rough,” Cody sympathized. His mama had given him a similar look when she’d caught him trying to convince Noah that milking the bull would impress Dad.
“I’ll probably have to go to bed
before
dessert and Ms. Luella just made some of her peach pie. I saw it on the counter earlier.”
So had Cody. He’d smelled it too.
“We can either work on that arm, or stand here with you trying to fast-talk me into lying to your mom. Your call.”
“Work on my arm.” JT’s eyes danced with excitement.
“Then go get the ball.”
JT headed off for the porch but not before punching his fist in the air with a heartfelt “Yes!” and gifting Cody with a smile that damn near melted his heart. Suddenly, all of the fears Cody had been harboring about being like his old man shriveled under the weight of that smile.
Maybe Noah was right. Maybe he could do this. Maybe being a daddy was in his blood.
Feeling bed-rumpled and foggy with sleep, Shelby watched from the back porch, careful to stay in the shadows. Cody and Jake had so much mud caked to their bodies they looked like a couple of hogs basking on a hot day. The only white visible was coming from the big grin on her son’s face. It was the most beautiful sight Shelby had ever seen.
Knuckling sleep from her eye, and a little moisture if she were being honest, she watched Cody pull back and snap the ball. Jake caught it, faked right, then left, before heading straight for Cody, who let him slide by with enough contact to make their son think he’d outmaneuvered a Dallas Cowboy, but allowing him to pass without dropping the ball.
Their son.
Shelby swallowed, so overcome by the wonder of the moment that she didn’t even question where all that mud had come from, how she’d ever manage to get it out of all of Jake’s crannies or even stop to fret over the lack of sunscreen on such a blistering day.
Watching Jake make a beeline for the end zone—an area near the barn that was marked with what appeared to be, at one time, Cody and Jake’s T-shirts—hearing his high-pitched giggles at Cody’s taunts of domination and shouts of encouragement, she told herself that this was worth it. Fun even.
She could enjoy this time, however long it lasted, and take pleasure in watching father and son bond. And when the time came for Cody to pack up, they would be okay. Jake would have a father, even if it was an every-other-weekend kind of deal, and a home and friends and a place to plant his feet. And Shelby—she would be just fine.
Liar
, she grumbled to herself as she walked into the house and gathered up a couple of beach towels. It was crazy how a dose of reality could have such a chilling effect, even when the weather was bordering on an inferno.
If Cody said yes to her offer, she had no doubt that he’d step up as Jake’s father, but
she
would be merely a means to an end. The second that contract was signed, he would be thinking more about getting out of this house than getting back together.
“And you’ll be just fine,” she mumbled to herself again, wishing that saying it out loud would make it true.
On the way back through the kitchen, Shelby stacked a couple of juice boxes on a tray, a tiny smile breaking through her somber mood at the thought of Cody drinking from the kiddy straw. She added a plate of apples and cheese, tossing in a couple of Ms. Luella’s ginger delight cookies.
She hung the towels over the porch rail and set the tray on the small wicker table, nearly knocking it to the floor when excited shouts erupted from the muddied field.
Shelby jerked at the sound, her heart returning to a somewhat normal rate when she saw Cody running into the end zone with Jake tucked under his arm like a football. He flipped Jake in the air, tossing him high and settling him on his shoulders. Jake’s arms pumped in the air in glory.
Feeling safe in the shadows of the porch, Shelby forced her walls to drop, opening her heart to the experience and allowing something that felt oddly like love to spill through her.
Cody looked up, their gazes collided, locked, and she knew that he’d been aware of her the entire time. And that there was no way she’d come through this intact.
Cody raised a cocky brow and winked, while continuing to bounce Jake all over the field. Her heart gave a little flip and she hightailed it back into the house, hoping Cody hadn’t noticed her embarrassing blush. His laugh followed her the whole way to her bedroom. Even after she slammed the door.
Cody, can you come help me?
Jerking upright, Cody’s heart slammed against his chest with the force of a semi until he was positive it would break through his rib cage.
He gasped for air . . . nothing.
Tried again, his lungs freezing up, locked. Spots collected in front of his eyes at an alarming rate, blocking his vision, the lack of oxygen blurring his already screwed-up perception of the world. He was either dying or having a panic attack. The way the floor rose up to meet his face and swayed, Cody figured it was the latter.
Just when he thought he’d lost the fight, his lungs jumped into action, expanding and sucking in enough honeysuckle and lavender to choke on. Enough honeysuckle and lavender to know that whoever was screwing with him was a sick son of a bitch.
“Christ,” Cody mumbled, his voice slurred with a toxic combination of not enough sleep and too much adrenaline. Six nights in a row. This had to stop—tonight.
Ignoring his body’s need to regroup, Cody was pulling on his jeans before he even hit the floor. Unlocking and opening the top drawer, his hands oddly calm, he extracted and loaded the handgun, then silently headed toward Shelby’s room.
Based on the amount of perfume coating the air, whoever it was hadn’t gotten far. And if it was Shelby—he hoped to God it wasn’t—he would be able to tell. She had as much skill at lying as Cody did at quilting.
A quick scan of the hallway convinced him it was empty. He turned the knob, and cracked open the door. Hating the way he needed her to be innocent, he snapped on the overhead lamp.
Shelby blinked rapidly against the blinding light. Sitting up, her face tightened with confusion. She rubbed at her eyes, only to use a hand to block out the offending glare as they darted from the gun, which now hung by his side, to meet his gaze.
“Cody?” Her voice was sandpaper-rough, eyes sleep-reddened, hair bed-tousled, and the imprint of slept-in sheets marked her left cheek.
Cody felt his shoulders sink with relief that burned the backs of his eyes. There was no way she was faking. She’d been dead asleep. And Cody had never felt so alive in his life.
“You all right?” Shelby tossed back the covers and crossed the room. She didn’t touch him, but then she didn’t need to. The look on her face said it all. It wasn’t a scared look; wasn’t a pissed-off look; it wasn’t even a why-the-hell-are-you-in-my-room-with-a-gun-again look. It was a look of unconditional acceptance, of genuine concern that was all Shelby. And Cody felt her weave her way in, all the way to his bones.
Somewhere from inside the house the floorboards groaned with warning. Shelby’s eyes exploded with fear, her pupils dilating with panic. “Cody, what’s going on? Is Jake—”
“Shhh,” Cody whispered, placing a silencing finger on her lips. “I’ll go check on JT.”
Another floorboard groaned.
“It’s probably just Ms. Luella,” Shelby whispered back. “She’s been sneaking around, trying to avoid you.”
“It’s not Luella. Now, lock the door behind me and don’t open it until I come back, understand?”
Shelby nodded, her mouth quivering slightly as she closed the door behind him. She was scared. Hell, he was scared. It was almost easier when he’d thought it was Shelby, because then the danger had been directed at him alone and was predictable. This changed everything. Now, he had to think about Shelby, his son, and their safety.
Waiting until he heard the metal lock spin into place, Cody checked on JT—thankful beyond imagining when he found his son sound asleep in his bed—and made his way toward the front of the house.
Everything was as he’d left it earlier—locked up and in place. But the air in the kitchen felt heavy with the night’s humidity.
Old instincts tightened his hand around the handle of Cody’s gun. He scanned the kitchen. Gravel and small clumps of dirt littered the floor. On the counter, just to the right of the sink, was a faint heel mark set in dust. He inspected the window above the sink and found the frame bent. It had been pried open. Proof that someone had let himself—or herself—in. And judging by the footprint—too big to belong to Goldilocks and too real to belong to a ghost—that someone appeared to be of the cowboy variety.
Problem was—which one? Cody had pissed off a whole slew of folks in the past week. Any one of them could be behind this. He just needed to figure who, and fast.
House empty. Locks checked. Windows secured. JT safe in bed. Cody engaged the safety, slid the handgun into the waistband of his jeans, the cold metal snug against the small of his back, and tapped on the door. “Shelby Lynn, open up.”
The knob fumbled then opened, the words falling from her lips, too fast to be answered. “Ohmygod, is Jake okay? Does he need me? What’s going on? Is someone in the house? And don’t you ever tell me to stay put when my baby could be hurt, Cody Tucker!”
The last words were underscored with a shove to his chest, her fists instantly going soft the moment they made contact. The intensity of expressions that flashed across her face, one into the other, finally making her beautiful eyes fill and her mouth droop made Cody pull her into his arms.
“I thought I heard something, but I checked, and no one is in the house,” Cody answered, telling the truth. No one was
currently
in the house.
“But the gun and JT—” and that was when he saw the tears slipping down her cheeks. Her face was pale, her eyes big and she was crying. Because he’d scared the shit out of her.
“Hey, hey,” Cody soothed, nestling her closer against his body. He ran his fingers through her hair, touching it gently, loving the way she leaned into him, burying her face into his chest. “You’re safe. The house is locked up. And JT’s fine.”
“Maybe I should go check,” she sniffled.
“Honey, he’s snoring like a bear. Must get that from your side,” Cody teased, lightly tugging on her hair and hoping to stop those damn tears. No such luck. “So unless you plan on waking him and giving him something to worry about, I suggest you get your cute backside in bed and let me tuck you in.”
Cody let his hands slide down her back, noticing just how thin the cotton of her nightgown was, how she instinctively put her arms around his waist, how openly she melted into his body, and how easily she gave herself over to his care. God, what had he done to deserve her?
“Are you okay?”
She looked up and nodded, but she didn’t look okay. She still looked freaked.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she whispered, trying to sound intimidating, but looking adorable as hell.
“I promise.”
She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss over the center of his chest before slipping out of his arms. He was about to pull her back to him, needing another minute of holding her when she took his hand and led him toward the bed. The fabric of her gown played against her perfect ass with each step she took, making him remember just how hot they had been together. God, he needed to leave or this was going to end up with her under him, moaning his name for the next eight hours.
She scooted to the center of the mattress, pulled the sheet up over her gorgeous body. And waited.
Cody released a weary sigh and begged for the control he’d need to go back to his room alone. He needed her. Needed her body wrapped around him bad. She made everything okay. But if he got in that bed, sex was inevitable. If he went back to his room, he’d spend the night staring at his high school trophies or sweating out another nightmare.
And it wasn’t like he could hop in his truck and drive around until sunrise. Not with someone breaking in and helping themselves to a grand tour of the house.
No, the smart move would be to tuck Shelby in, check on JT once more, and go sit on the porch with a hard-on and his gun for company. But he could already tell that wasn’t going to happen. Not with the way she was gazing up at him, those gorgeous eyes soft and inviting. Looking at him like he was a good man, like he belonged, right there, by her side.
Cody leaned down to pull the sheets up higher, giving her one more chance to end this, but she held them back in silent invitation. He took in her shy smile, welcoming body, and outstretched arms, and felt everything shift.
He swallowed hard. Men spent their entire lives searching for what was right in front of him. But this was Shelby and she wasn’t offering just sex. She was offering comfort, too. And for some reason that scared him even more.
Sometimes I call out for my mom, too.
What do you do the other times?
I crawl into her bed.
He’d be a fool to crawl anywhere near her bed right now. He was amped, could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, and knew she would be next to impossible to resist all night. Just like he knew that one touch from her and his control would snap.
Well, Cody thought, pulling his gun from his waistband and setting it on the side table, he was about to officially change his name to Fool.
Shelby watched as Cody sank down on the side of the bed, jeans intact, his eyes growing troubled. He was torn between staying the night and running till morning.
“We’re not having sex.” Cody clarified.
“Okay.” She pulled back the sheets farther. Waited. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“You sure?” There was a ragged edge to his question, something almost pleading.
“About not taking advantage of you? I’m sure.” Shelby joked, the humor falling flat against the hardwood floor. She wasn’t sure of anything. She wasn’t ready for sex, but she also wasn’t ready to say good night. “If you go back to your room, you’ll only end up pacing all night or leaving. And I don’t think either one of us wants to be alone right now.”