Maya Banks - Shades of Gray

But Cole and her teammates were slowly proving her wrong. They’d stood behind her. Her team leader had stood behind her even at the risk of his own reputation and position within KGI.

That meant something, didn’t it?

Yeah, it meant a damn lot.

“You asleep back there, P.J.?” Cole called back. “We’re almost there.”

She sat up, gingerly pulling herself upward so she could see out the window. She hadn’t been asleep but she’d sure been in another world contemplating her circumstances.

The SUV slowed and Cole turned onto a dirt road that was marked only by a county road number. There were no residences on the road. Only a thick stand of pine and hardwood.

At the end it opened up into a cleared area where a small house stood. In the back, a huge pond spread out for several acres. It was practically a small lake.

The house wasn’t entirely what she would have expected. Maybe she’d thought he’d have gone for a more rustic look, but the home was modern looking with brick and wood and large picture windows. It looked cozy and inviting, and it fit in well with the landscaping.

Neat hedges that looked newly trimmed. A lawn that looked as though it was freshly cut. Several smaller trees dotted the open ground, and several azalea bushes and other flowering varieties lined the edges of the house.

“You own all of this?” she asked.

He pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the house, not bothering to park in the garage.

“Yep. Bought a hundred acres from a paper company who was selling off land in the area. Same company Sam got all the KGI property from. They pulled out of Tennessee. Got a pretty good deal on it. I cut enough timber to pay for the land and then built the house and had the pond dug.”

“So who keeps this up for you? You’re not home enough to take care of all this.”

He laughed. “I have a guy who comes by when I’m away.”

“Nice bachelor pad. Do you have the prerequisite man cave going on in there?”

He went quiet and then didn’t respond. He got out and then opened the passenger door behind her.

“I don’t want you to move, okay? I’m going to put my hands under your arms and pull you my way. It’ll be easier than you trying to maneuver your body around and banging that leg up.”

She didn’t argue.

His arms slid under hers and his hands splayed over her chest and belly. Then he started easing her backward until her ass hung off the seat. He rotated around so he could put one arm underneath her knees and then he lifted her effortlessly from the backseat and elbowed the door shut.

“I’ll get our gear later. Right now I want to make sure you’re comfortable and get some pain medicine in you.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to sleep through the steaks and fireflies.”

He laughed as he carried her toward the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you just enough to take the edge off. I don’t want you snoring through dinner either.”

He set her down on the front porch, careful not to let her put any weight on her leg. Then he unlocked the house and shoved the door open.

“Can you make it inside or you want me to carry you?”

She very nearly blurted that she wanted him to carry her, but how wussy would that sound?

She only had a few weeks to get her shit together, and she wouldn’t accomplish that by having Cole treat her like an invalid.

Bracing herself for the inevitable flash of discomfort, she took a step, holding on to the doorframe so she didn’t humiliate herself by going down.

She clenched her jaw and took another step, finding it easier if she just kept moving rather than pausing after each step. Cole hovered at her side, no doubt waiting to see if she face-planted.

Gratified that she was still on her feet and not kissing the floor, she grew a little bolder and limped into the living room.

The leather couch looked inviting, and she made it her sole purpose to get to it as soon as possible so she could sink into the waiting softness. She was already imagining a long nap with that sumptuous-looking leather hugging her body.

A few muttered curses later and she was there. Knowing there was no graceful way to settle in, she let herself fall awkwardly onto the cushions. She grimaced when the impact jostled her leg, but then she pulled it up so she could lie on her side comfortably.

She let out a huge sigh of relief and closed her eyes for a moment. This was good. Perfect, even. She could totally stay here the rest of the day. Except they were supposed to grill steaks and watch fireflies.

“Give me an hour,” she said to Cole. “Just want to rest here for a little while. Then we’ll go out and watch the sun go down.”

He smiled and reached down with his hand to touch her cheek. It was such a simple gesture, but it was sweeter than any kiss or more overt sign of intimacy.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll go take stock of what’s in my freezer.”

COLE watched P.J. sleep from the chair across the room. It’s where he’d found himself for the last hour, studying her as she rested.

Such a complex individual in a small package. She had layers that would take him forever to completely unravel, and yet he looked forward to the challenge. Life definitely wasn’t boring with P.J. around.

Looking back, he wasn’t even certain when she’d become such an integral part of his life. He’d admit he’d been somewhat of an asshole when she’d first been brought on board. He’d been skeptical of her skills because she was a woman. It had been hard for him to look at her and imagine a kick-ass warrior that the team needed.

She’d very quickly proved him wrong, and he was man enough to admit he’d totally fucked up and had been a complete dickhead chauvinist.

P.J. had taught him a lot, though. She’d changed his outlook on most women. By watching her, he’d learned not to assume that women were weaker just because they were female.

She carried her weight and that of the team sometime. He admired the hell out of her and would have told her on multiple occasions if he hadn’t known he’d have gotten his ass kicked for it.

In essence she was absolutely perfect for him. He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted another woman, and she was certainly the first woman he’d actually considered that he’d like a long-term relationship with.

Marriage?

He’d resolved early on that he wasn’t the kind of guy that was cut out for a wife, kids and the whole nine yards of domesticity. He liked action. Liked the thrill his job provided. He’d never be happy settling into a nine-to-five job, coming home to check things off the honey-do list. And he knew there weren’t many women who would put up with his schedule. Never knowing when he’d come home or when he’d get called up on another mission. He couldn’t blame them either.

But what if the woman he fell for lived for the same things he did? Could it work? Would they be able to stay on a team together if they were romantically involved?

The bad thing was, he figured P.J. would handle it just fine. But would he? Could he stand to go out on a mission with the woman he loved at his side, knowing it was possible she wouldn’t make it back or that she could get seriously injured?

Hell, it had already happened.

After their one-night stand, he’d gone batshit crazy at the idea of her being used as bait to lure Nelson into a trap. He’d been right, but if it had been any other woman, would he have been so adamant about her performing her job?

Probably not.

Which meant that he wouldn’t take it any better in the future when P.J. put herself on the line, and he knew P.J. This incident wouldn’t slow her down. It would likely make her that much more determined not to let what happened to her interfere in future missions.

His first instinct had been to protect her. He hadn’t considered what was best for the mission. Or the people they were trying to protect by bringing Brumley down. He’d only cared that P.J. was risking herself, and he’d wanted her in a role that assumed less risk.

It was a hell of a dilemma for him, because he wasn’t sure if he could give the team one hundred percent as long as P.J. was involved. And she’d never allow him to shield her from the reality of their jobs. He’d have less respect for her if she did. But it didn’t change the fact that he was a basket case at the idea of her incurring huge personal risk.

He rubbed his hand over his face, weary from the sheer weight of his worry and indecision.

He wanted P.J. He thought he might even love her. But could he commit to her knowing the kind of baggage they’d both bring to the table? Would it be fair to her and her position on the team to have a crazy-ass lover and teammate whose sole objective was to keep her safe and fuck the rest of the world?

And even if it wasn’t fair, it was far too late, because he’d already laid out his cards. He’d told her he was here. That he’d wait as long as it took for her to get her head on straight again.

Even as he thought the last, he winced at how it sounded. Get her head on straight? You used language like that for someone who’d fucked up. For someone whose head wasn’t in the game.

That wasn’t the case with P.J. She hadn’t fucked up. She’d done everything right and had paid a steep price for that. He couldn’t fathom how she’d been able to keep it together this long.

As he stared at her features, softened by the veil of sleep, something inside him twisted and knotted. The problem was, she’d kept it together too well. Which meant at some point, she had to break. No one could completely turn it off forever, and what had sustained her all these months was hunting for the men who’d hurt her. Once she no longer had that objective holding her together, what would happen?

She’d need him—someone—then more than ever. The question was, would she accept his help? Or would she push him away, determined to shoulder everything on her own?

He shook his head. “I won’t let you do that, P.J.,” he whispered. “I don’t know what exactly it is that we have, but I’m not willing to let it go no matter how hard it is.”

Relationships took work. He’d seen the evidence of that enough times just by observing the Kellys. Ethan’s wife, Rachel, had been through hell, and her road to recovery had been a bumpy one.

But P.J. was worth it. She deserved happiness. She deserved a man who stood by her and with her. Someone who allowed her to be herself. Even if it killed him, he was going to be that man. Encouraging her to be the kick-ass woman he knew her to be and not holding her back no matter how hard his gut screamed at him to shield her from anything that could ever hurt her.

Love sucked.

Love required sacrifices that were hard to make. It required him to go against every instinct so he didn’t crush what made P.J. so special to begin with.

If this was what falling in love was about, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted in or not.

And yet, the idea of P.J. not being in his future as more than just a team member he hung out with sucked. It didn’t really matter what he wanted or what was easy at this point, because the decision had been made for him.

P.J. was his. And yeah, it wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever was.

He liked her just the way she was. All hard-ass, stubborn, independent and capable of kicking anyone’s ass. Even his.

He wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about her.

The sudden surge of emotion caught him off guard. It was as if admitting to himself the depth of his feelings for P.J. made him want to act on them now. He wanted her to know, for her to feel, what she meant to him. How long had he carried a torch for her?

He couldn’t pinpoint an exact time or place. Rather, she’d gradually grown on him as he’d grown to respect and admire her. Over time his feelings had changed to something intensely more personal, and now here he was watching as she slept on his couch in his home.

He had her exactly where he most wanted her, and his hands were tied and he was unable to act on the attraction between them.

Still, he found himself getting up so he could be closer to her. He knelt in front of the couch, his fingers going to trace the baby-soft skin on her cheek.

Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, as it always was, but tendrils escaped and floated down her face, giving her an air of vulnerability that made his chest tighten.