Embattled Hearts 1 (13 page)

*****

Dinner was a plain affair of hamburgers topped with mushrooms and French fries done in the oven. John ate quickly, then retreated to the living room to keep an eye on the monitors. Shannon didn’t think they needed to be watched so closely, but she kept her mouth shut. If he wanted to avoid her, that was his prerogative.

Heading out to the front closet, she retrieved the officer’s card from her pocket and stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. Aggravation ate at her, and she wondered if she should report him to his superiors. How many other women had he hit on that way, she wondered? She was loath to bring it up to John because of the reaction he had, but maybe she could say something to Duncan.

The kittens were more than happy to occupy her for a while, and Shannon laughed at some of their antics. They were almost six weeks old now, and she would need to find homes for them soon. The neighbor’s child down the street wanted one of the kittens, and had already chosen one of the black ones with white feet. Actually, the little girl wanted Pickle too, but Shannon just couldn’t part with her.

And even though John denied it, she thought he wanted one too. Having a little cat to come home to would probably do him good.

With a sigh, she wished she knew how to get close to him. She walked out into the living room.

“I’m not really tired,” she told him finally. “Want to watch some TV?”

“Sure.”

Shannon pulled the remotes to her and plopped down onto the couch, legs stretched out along the length, before she started to flip through channels. What would John want to watch? The cooking show with the yelling chef? No. The travel channel going to New York? Probably not.

“If you see something you want to watch, let me know.”

Nodding his head, he turned his chair and rolled a little closer to the couch.

“There. That’s good.”

Jeopardy was on the screen. “Jeopardy? Really?”

Dark brows lowered over his dark eyes. “What’s wrong with that?” he demanded.

Shannon held up her hands with a smile. “Not a thing. It’s one of my favorites too. You just surprised me.”

The show was, of course, a re-run on the Game Show Network. Shannon was surprised when John started to blurt out answers. He did not seem the type to be like that. Shannon tossed out her own responses, although most of them were incredibly wrong.

They were both laughing when the show went to commercial before Double Jeopardy. Shannon went to the kitchen for popcorn and drinks, and when she came back, John had positioned himself on the opposite end of the couch, and had just pushed his chair behind. Shannon’s heart began to pound as she sat in the couch corner and tucked one leg underneath her. It would be so hard not to touch him when he was this close. She placed the bowl on the cushion between them, and tried not to choke each time John’s hand bumped hers.

After a while, Shannon did begin to relax and enjoy herself again. John grumbled when his answers were wrong, and pumped the air with his fist and an “oorah!” when he got one right that the contestants did not. Watching him was vastly more entertaining than the show.

Somehow or another, his big left hand ended up wrapped around her foot. Shannon did not even notice it at first, because she was laughing at him, but when he started to massage, all the nerve endings in her foot started to scream. John himself did not seem to know he was even doing it, and it made Shannon’s heart pound when she realized he had reached out to her, not vice versa.

The show finally drew to a close, and Shannon muted the sound.

“You impress me, John,” she told him honestly. “I guess you’re not just a jarhead.”

John tipped back his head and laughed, and Shannon could not help but laugh with him.

“When we were in the hospital,” he murmured, “we would have competitions for all the game shows. Helped to break up the time.”

“I’m sure.”

He suddenly realized his hand was wrapped around her foot, and his laughter subsided. With narrowed eyes, he wrapped both hands around her narrow foot, measuring it against the length of his hand, from heel to toe. Shaking his head, he wrapped his fingers around her anklebone. Long, calloused fingers overlapped.

“You are so small,” he said finally.

“I know, I know. Don’t bother with the short jokes. I’ve heard them all.”

It was meant to be funny, but he didn’t laugh the way he was supposed to. Instead, he ran his fingers inside the edge of her sock and circled gently. Shannon was intrigued by the thoughtful look on his face. She didn’t believe he was actually thinking about how small she was.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

Deep brown eyes flicked to hers, then latched on. Shannon was curious about the tension she felt in the air.

“You know I’ll never walk again, right?”

She cocked her head to the side and regarded him carefully. Why was he asking her this?

“I know that as of right now,” she said carefully, “you are not able to walk.”

“No, not as of right now. As of
never.
My spine was crushed, Shannon. That’s not going to change. I have feeling occasionally in one or both of my legs, but I was told that it didn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Anger vibrated in his tone, but Shannon could not tell if he was angry with her or the fact that his spine was crushed. Six years after the injury, the anger should have at least started to ease. But maybe not. Treading lightly, she agreed with him.

“No, your injury isn’t going to change, but every day there are new advances in the medical world. You never know when a crush injury like yours may have a chance of being repaired. Is it a complete or incomplete injury?”

John shook his head at her stubbornness, but continued to rub her ankle. Finally, he looked up at her with troubled eyes. “Incomplete. I still have some feeling in my legs, but it doesn’t mean anything. I like you Shannon. I don’t want to…hurt you. Or lead you on thinking you might have a future with me.”

Her heart warmed at the timbre of his voice, and the thought that he had considered a future with her. “I don’t want to be hurt either. I can’t help but be hopeful, though.”

He looked away, back toward the fire. He still rubbed her foot, though. Shannon tried to remember when the last time was she had seen him voluntarily touch anybody, and no instance came to mind. Usually she was the touchy one, but he had reached out to her a lot recently. It was hard not to put some kind of stock in his actions. John was not the wasteful type. If he touched her, it was for a reason.

Shannon’s breath stalled in her throat as his hand began to glide up her leg underneath the soft cotton of her pant, all the way to her kneecap, then back down. Several times he repeated the action. Instinctively, her muscles tightened when he reached her knee, waiting to see if he would go any farther up or not. Honestly, Shannon had no idea what she would do if he did. The cotton was getting too tight for him to go much farther anyway.

His troubled eyes followed his hand now, as if he were trying to reconcile in his mind what his hand was feeling. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispered.

Shannon turned her leg slightly to give him access to the even softer skin on the inside of her knee.

“Damn,” he whispered. “It’s like butter.”

Shannon fought the shivers that coursed through her. The tentative, gentle motion of his fingers turned her on. She had never felt anything so exquisitely pleasurable. She loved touch. She loved anything with texture. And, right now, John’s rough hands on her skin felt sublime.

He motioned for her to turn around and back up against him. Holding her breath in anticipation, Shannon nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He shifted her a little bit and rested his arm over her shoulder, folding her into him.

Shannon was in heaven. The man smelled so good! She couldn’t even identify exactly what he smelled like, just “spicy man”. And he was so warm. His skin burned like a furnace. She found herself nestling in closer to him just for his warmth. He dragged a blanket up over the both of them, and snagged the remotes from her side of the couch.

“Ah, I see now,” she told him laughing. “You wanted me distracted while you stole the remote. Okay, buddy, you can have it for now.”

John chuckled and un-muted the screen. He squeezed her and began flipping through channels. He stopped on Animal Planet at a popular law-enforcement show. Shannon settled back happily.

“I love this show.”

John’s chest jerked underneath her in a laugh. “I figured you would.”

They watched TV for a couple more hours. She eventually slid down until her head rested on John’s thigh. He kept his heavy hand on her arm, or her shoulder or hip. She didn’t care what they watched, as long as he held her the way he was. Her eyes drifted shut.

She woke when John prodded her gently. “I’m going to have to shift. I’ve been in one position too long.”

Shannon sat up immediately, blinking heavily. “Oh, John. I’m sorry. I was just so comfortable.”

John smiled slightly. “I was too, actually.” He reached around the arm of the couch and pulled out his chair. Shannon began to gather the dirty dishes, and watched as he shifted himself over to the sleek silver-wheeled chair and tucked his feet against the bar. He made it look easy. After so many years, it probably was easy for him, or at least not as hard. Her eyes lingered on his upper body, honed by time to perfection. The deep hills and valleys of his abdomen tightened and released, and it was a struggle to remember what she was doing.

John made a round of the house, ending in the bathroom. Shannon felt on edge, and didn’t understand why. She slipped down the hall and into her own bedroom to change into nightclothes, then went back out to tell him good night.

John was at the wide bay window in the living room, peering out the tiniest slit between the closed drapes. Beyond him, she could see snow swirling.

He shoved himself away from the window, and fiddled with one of the dials on the little closed-circuit TVs.

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced up at her. “The snow is swirling too hard for the cameras to see anything. It’s white out.”

Shannon wasn’t too worried. The delayed storm had finally rolled in. It happened all the time in Colorado. As long as John was in here with her, she was sure she’d be fine.

There was a fierce frown on his face, and Shannon felt her own tension creep up. “What else?”

He didn’t respond for several seconds. Finally, he shrugged. “Not sure exactly. Something just feels off.”

“I feel it too,” she admitted, and crossed her arms over her breasts.

John stopped what he was doing and looked at her hard. “Like something’s creeping up your spine?”

She nodded. “Or watching us.”

The warrior in front of her grinned fiercely, and she had a flash of what he must have been like before the war changed him: brash and bold and playful, daring life to hand him its best. Or worst.

The lights suddenly flickered and went out.

Shannon gasped and moved to the wall closest to her, then slid down into a crouch. “John?”

The glide of his chair wheels on the hardwood floor barely made a sound, but she could feel his warmth as he drew closer. He leaned down and cupped her face to whisper in her ear. “Stay right here, no matter what, so I know where you are.”

She nodded firmly. Her eyes strained in the darkness as he rolled away. The fire had died down to coals. She should have stoked it by now. Then she’d have light.

Time dragged unmercifully as she sat hunched on the floor. The wind from the storm howled outside, and she thought she heard it get louder at one point, as if somebody had opened a door. A swirl of cold air swept across the floor, and she shuddered, praying that John wasn’t going to try to go outside. She counted her heartbeats as she waited for him to return. A crash in the garage set her heart racing, but she forced herself to stay still.

The lights flashed back on, blinding her. Nothing moved in the house, but she stayed crouched where she was. John had told her to stay right here, so she would.

Shannon clamped her jaw to keep from calling out. She didn’t want to endanger him if he responded. When he rounded the corner from the kitchen, though, she couldn’t keep in a small gasp. She bolted across the room and stopped just short of slamming into him. She reached one hand out to touch him. “I was worried.”

*****

John froze for a moment, stunned that she would even care. He folded her hand into his own and tugged, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Slipping one arm under her knees, he swung her into his lap. She curled into him as if she belonged there.

He fought to maintain some kind of emotional distance. There was a bad guy out there messing with her, and he needed to keep his cool. The problem was, he’d never meant anything to anybody. He’d been a buddy and friend to the guys, but he’d never been involved with a woman the same way.

As she tightened her arms around his neck, emotion clutched at his throat.

“I thought you were in trouble. I heard the door open and I thought somebody had come in.”

John cleared his throat and stroked a hand over her loose curls. “No, no, I just checked the power box in the garage. It’s fine. Must have been a tree branch falling on the power line or something to make it black out.”

She pulled back enough to look up at him. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Those big hazel eyes looked at him as if he were the most important thing in her world. John leaned forward and covered her lips with his own, desperate to maintain that connection.

After so long without, he should have been rusty at kissing, but everything was so natural with Shannon, it was no effort at all to just let himself drown in her. She tasted so good. Freshness, and mint, and something more abstract too. She tasted of hope, and fear, and desire.

John didn’t dare look for anything other than what she offered right that second. As much as he enjoyed her company, he didn’t think he was built for relationships. He didn’t want to hurt her when she wanted more than he could give.

That sober thought made him pull away in regret. He wished he could go back five years and tell Hanity to drive on past that vehicle. Hell, he wished he could just go back and talk to Hanity, who’d stayed in the vehicle. The kid hadn’t deserved to die over there.