Embattled Hearts 1 (3 page)

And there was no wheelchair.

Not that being in a chair seemed to have slowed him down at all. He was such a dominant personality, and the chair was such an integral part of him, that she hardly even noticed it after a couple of days. She’d seen him race Chad down the long office hallway and beat him. She’d walked into his office one day and found him rocking backward on two wheels, with the front dangling in the air. It had scared her a little and she’d asked him if he’d ever fallen over that way. She’d snapped her mouth shut, because she hadn’t meant to sound so informal with a man who was, technically, one of her three bosses. The twinkle in his dark eyes had brightened, though, and he’d grinned at her. “I have, but not in front of anybody.” It was one of the friendliest interactions they’d had at that point, and the beginning of her infatuation.

The outer office door opened, and Cameron Jennings stepped into the reception area. Shannon forced herself to greet him with a smile. “Mr. Jennings. If you’ll have a seat, please, I’ll let Mr. Wilde know you’re here.”

He stalked across the office and lowered himself to one of the leather couches directly across from her desk. Shannon called Duncan to let him know his appointment was waiting, then turned back to her computer. She didn’t know why the man across from her put her on edge, because he looked decent. Short dark hair, pale eyes. Lean body. In fact, he kind of reminded her of her brother Chris. The entire time she sat there though, she could feel Jennings’ gaze resting on her. When she looked up, he would turn his head away. Very disconcerting.

This was his second interview. Duncan put every new hire through the wringer when he considered them. There were criminal background checks, interviews with friends, family and former commanding officers, psychological testing. There was a whole gamut of tests to make sure they were ready for whatever Duncan would throw at them. If they weren’t ready, they would be nudged to seek counseling at the VA hospital. Shannon had hoped Jennings wouldn’t make it through. The first day he’d come, he’d looked at her as if he’d seen a ghost, and spent most of the time waiting staring at his hands. Shannon glanced up and caught him glaring at her again, but this time his eyes didn’t shift away. “Can I help you with something?”

Jennings shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Still, his eyes didn’t shift away.

Chad stepped out just then to shake hands with the Marine and guide him into Duncan’s office, and the tension eased from her spine. For some reason, Jennings’ face took on a vitality that hadn’t been present in front of her, and she wondered what was going on with him. For half an hour, the door stayed firmly shut. She heard raised voices once, then Jennings suddenly lurched out of the office and stopped in front of her desk to stare at her for several long seconds. Shannon sat back in her chair as his eyes drifted up to her hair, then back down her face. Her soft heart actually went out to him as desolation swept over his features and he turned to let himself quietly out of the office.

John came out of the office and stopped at her side. “Are you okay?”

She blinked, shook for some unknown reason. “That was very strange. Is he okay?”

John looked at the door, but the young man was already gone. “He will be. He needs to take some time, though.”

Shannon made a deliberate effort to calm herself, but things kept replaying in her head. Strange was becoming a way of life recently and she didn’t like it. John looked at her for a long moment before she waved him away. He rolled down the hallway to his office and out of sight.

She glanced at the clock and was amazed to see it was almost three already. Her stomach twinged with renewed anxiety at the thought of going home alone, but she pushed it away. Tonight she would put the truck in the garage, like she should have done last night. She just hadn’t wanted to chill the kittens in the garage when she pulled in. Tonight, they would have to be cold, and hopefully she’d have full tires tomorrow. It was probably just kids messing with her.

At five o’clock, she cleaned her desk off and dug her purse from the depths of the drawer. She wrapped her muffler around her neck and slipped her dark green coat on, then made sure her gloves and hat were in her pocket. The weatherman had called for more snow tonight, and the temperature had already plunged into the twenties. Although that was nothing new for Denver, it was only the beginning of November. Winter had moved in early.

She ducked her head into Duncan’s office. His close-cropped gray head lifted when she entered. “I’m heading home, boss. Do you need anything before I go?”

Duncan seemed surprised as he looked at the clock on the wall. “Is it five already?”

Nodding her head in amusement, Shannon tucked her hair behind her ear. “A bit after, actually.”

“Ugh,” he grumbled. “The time just got away from me, I guess.”

“Again,” she reminded him. “Why don’t you do something crazy, like go home early tonight? And do something other than work over the weekend.”

Duncan chuckled, but he didn’t promise her anything as she headed out the door. She wished he would take her advice. He was a good looking man, with his gray hair and lean face. His brown eyes seemed more tired recently, though. The man worked all hours, keeping abreast of every case they had under contract. Even when the case was complete, he followed up with and maintained contact with previous customers. Shannon was seriously impressed with the work ethic she’d found working there.

Maybe it was a Marine thing.

She’d never had close contact with anybody in the military and it had been an eye-opening experience listening to the repartee and insults that flew between the men. And the cussing. Jeez! But every word was said, or yelled in many cases, with a friendliness that amazed her. They didn’t technically have rank in the office, although there was a hierarchy of power. Everybody deferred to Duncan, as was appropriate for the owner of the business. Chad and John had both been sergeants and were next on the list. But even with the rest of the guys, she could definitely tell the leaders from the followers.

She retrieved her Crockpot and cake pan from the break room, and turned to leave, but didn’t see John stopped in the doorway. Her toe caught on the edge of his wheel. She flailed, trying to maintain her balance and hang onto the Crockpot and lid, the trailing electrical cord, her purse and cake pan in the opposite arm. She gasped as her purse slipped off her shoulder to land on her forearm, which made the lopsided cake pan tip over.

John snatched the heavy pot out of her left arm, unburdening her. The lack of weight itself was enough to overbalance her in the opposite direction, but she clamped everything to her body and righted herself. Immediately, she could feel her cheeks burn in humiliation.
Good God, you almost landed on your ass with your legs in the air.

John tried, and failed, not to laugh. She could see it in his eyes. He attempted to pass it off as a cough, but Shannon knew better. In the six months she had been at the agency, she could count on one hand the number of times she had heard him let it all out. It was a very distinctive bass rumble. She allowed herself to sag back against the doorjamb and disintegrate into giggles. John laughed with her, and it was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard.

That was how Chad found them a few moments later, with John shaking his head and Shannon wiping tears from her cheeks.

“What did I miss?”

Shannon giggled, one hand over her mouth. “Chad, did I ever tell you my middle name was Grace?”

John let out a roar of laughter, even as he turned his chair toward the elevator.

“Come on, Grace, let’s get you to your car.”

Shannon followed obediently, trying not to let the act mean too much to her needy emotions. He was just escorting her to her car, not offering her anything more.

They were both quiet on the long ride down in the elevator, but Shannon knew she was still smiling. It was nice being with him, and having his attention centered on her for a few moments.

“Is your middle name actually Grace?” he asked finally.

Nodding her head, Shannon pulled her hat out of her coat pocket, tugging it over her head one-handed.

“I swear. It was the bane of my existence, because it’s so totally opposite of how I actually am.”

John shook his dark head, and Shannon was ecstatic for having brought some humor into his day. Walking through the doors in the lobby, she was also pleased she had worn her heavy coat to work that day. The temperature may have been in the twenties, but the wind chill dropped it at least fifteen degrees. She frowned at John.

“I can take it from here,” she told him, and reached for the pot.

John wheeled around her and shot toward the parking lot. “C’mon, Shannon.”

“John,” she warned, “you’re only wearing a t-shirt. I’m clear in the back. You’ll freeze out here.”

“Not if you hurry up, damn it.”

Shannon shut her mouth and jogged after him as he dodged vehicles to get to her white Blazer in the back. There was no hesitation on his part, and Shannon shouldn’t have been surprised he knew exactly where she parked. John always seemed to know too much.

She dug her keys from her coat pocket and rushed ahead of him to unlock the doors.

“Don’t slip on the ice, Grace,” she heard him mutter.

Daring fate, she smiled at him over her shoulder, not too flirtatiously, she hoped, as she crossed the last few feet. No calamity befell her, and Shannon mouthed a silent “thank you” to the heavens. She threw her purse in the backseat, tossed the empty cake pan on the passenger side floorboard, and turned to take the crock pot from John’s hands. She took a minute to glance at her full tires.

“You have a spare, right?”

She nodded at him, and forced her smile to stay unconcerned.

“Thank you so much for helping me. Now, you better get inside before you catch a cold.”

John tipped his beard-shadowed chin towards the vehicle. The man acted as if he wore a parka rather than a thin blue t-shirt. Although if she had a chest like his to show off, she’d probably do the same thing. “Make sure it starts and I’ll go.”

Shannon slammed the passenger door shut, then scrambled to the driver’s side. The hardy little truck started immediately, and Shannon gave John a thumbs-up. With a wave, he turned the wheelchair and started back across the snowy lot. Against her will, her eyes followed him as he wove through cars and finally rolled into the front lobby and disappeared.

What a fascinating man.

Shannon flicked the heat on, sat back in the seat and waited for the vehicle to warm up. Three seconds after he was gone and she was already wondering what he’d be doing this evening. She knew he was single. Most of the guys were.

But prying details out of John Palmer was like pulling teeth. He very rarely told her anything about himself. She knew John had served in Iraq, and she knew he and Duncan had had very similar crush injuries. Duncan’s had just been more recoverable. Shannon could not build up the courage to ask John how extensive his injuries were. Wondering whether or not he could operate fully as a man bothered her constantly.

Not that it really made a difference. She had already decided that she would take whatever John was willing to give. Friendship, romance, good sex.

Even if it was just a grumpy “hello” in the hallway.

She slipped the car into gear and turned north, toward home. The roads were not as bad as she first thought. The snow was only blowing right now, making it look worse than it actually was. Later in the week, they were supposed to get the better part of a foot, which was thrilling. It would be the most they’d had since last spring.

Shannon turned left at the intersection of Poindexter and Cherry Creek, smiling. Winter was her favorite time of year in Colorado. The scenery was so pristine and Christmas was her favorite holiday. Yes, sometimes things could be difficult, but those that didn’t like the challenge moved away.

Five minutes later, she pulled into the drive of her house. The little ranch blended in with the rest of the neighborhood, and Shannon thanked her stars once again that she had listened to her friend Stacy when she told her about it. Stacy’s mother had happened to be good friends of the Johnsons who had lived in the house, and knew they wanted to sell. Mr. Johnson had lung issues, and they wanted to move to Arizona.

Shannon loved the proximity of the house to work, and the interior floor plan, which was wide open with hardwood floors. The kitchen was well equipped, and it was a three-bedroom, which gave her plenty of space to spread out. The garage was just one car, but considering that was all she had at the moment, it worked out fine. The best part about the house was that it had already been modified. Her brother Chris had lived with her several months, and she still looked for him when she entered the house, even though he’d left for his new job in Florida months before.

Shannon pushed the button on the opener and pulled in. She hugged the exterior wall to the left. Pickle and the kittens were in a large box next to the entry door into the kitchen. The four five-week-old kittens watched her curiously as she lugged things from the car to the kitchen, meowing pitifully when they did not get the attention they thought they deserved.

“You guys are noisy,” Shannon told them firmly. “What do you want?”

Boohini, the largest black kitten, dug his claws into the cardboard box, trying desperately to get to her. Shannon scooped him up and cuddled him under her chin as she sorted through mail.

Something caught her attention beside her. The trash can was almost full, and right on top was a bright red and blue Pepsi can. Standing upright. Shannon felt goose bumps rise on her skin.

She hadn’t had an actual Pepsi in several years. There wasn’t even any in the house. She always drank Diet instead. And she had cleaned the kitchen top to bottom yesterday.

The can was not hers.

Dropping her head, she tried to look around the room from under her lashes. Nothing else appeared to be out of place. She tiptoed to the garage door and dropped the kitten back into the box, then crept back through the kitchen and leaned out slightly. She peeked through the living room entryway, but nothing caught her eye there. Pulling a heavy butcher knife out of the drawer beside her, she balanced it in her hand. She wished her gun were closer. Heart pounding heavily in her chest, she crept around the corner into the living room, knife held out in front of her. She tried to feel if anybody was in the house, but she had no sense that anybody was.