Maya Banks - Shades of Gray

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.

He’d seen her at her most vulnerable. At her lowest point. It was an image he wished he could wash from his memory. Her broken and bloody, her eyes awash with shame.

Even now it was like a punch to the stomach. He couldn’t even think about it without wanting to put his fist through a wall.

He lowered his lips to brush across her brow, and then, because it wasn’t enough, he let his mouth linger, simply absorbing the sensation of having her so close.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the fragrance of her shampoo and the smell of her soap, a scent he now identified as uniquely hers.

She stirred beneath him, and then her eyelids fluttered open. He pulled away because he didn’t want to panic her if she was still half asleep. But she smiled at him, her eyes flashing with instant recognition.

“Did I sleep too long?” she whispered.

He smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. You’ve been out for a couple of hours. I figured you needed to catch up.”

“Oh good, so I didn’t miss the steaks?”

“Nope. They’re marinating now, and as soon as I get the grill fired up, I’ll throw them on and we can hang out on the patio if you feel up to it.”

She let out a soft sigh that sent a streak of pleasure through his senses. She’d made sounds like that the night they’d spent together. Sounds of satisfaction, like she was happy in the world.

He’d do anything he could to give her those small moments. Anything at all to remove the shadows in her mind. He wanted to give her new memories to replace the painful ones.

“Know what I’d really like?” she asked, a wistful note to her voice.

He almost laughed, because at present, she could ask for anything at all and he’d damn near kill himself making sure she got it.

“What’s that?”

“A really long, hot shower.”

He frowned a moment, contemplating the possible ramifications.

“I’m not sure you should be standing that long on your own.”

Her face bloomed with color—one of the few times he could ever remember her blushing.

“I can make it,” she said. “As long as I can brace my hand on the shower wall, I’ll be fine. If I have any trouble, I promise I’ll holler for you.”

“Works for me,” he said, giving in. Not like he’d have denied her anyway. “I’ll help you into the bathroom, make sure you have all the stuff you need, and then I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

“That sounds heavenly. Help me up?”

She reached out her hand and he stood, letting his fingers twine with hers. She pulled herself into a sitting position, gingerly letting her legs slide over the side of the couch.

He should have taken her straight to Fort Campbell. It’s what Steele had wanted, but Cole had wanted her here. He wanted to give her some downtime and not take her to a place where she’d be constantly reminded of her injury and how she’d gotten it.

Besides, P.J. was tough. She wasn’t going to wimp out over a simple flesh wound.

“How about you let me give you some pain medication so you can enjoy the evening,” he said.

For a moment he thought she would refuse, but then she sighed. “Okay.”

“I’ll have it for you when you get out of the shower. I put your bag in the spare bedroom. Holler if you need anything.”

She nodded and then started in the direction of the bathroom. Though she’d never been here before, she found her way around well enough. It wasn’t like the house was so huge she’d get lost.

After reassuring himself she wasn’t going to fall, he hurried out to light the grill, not wanting to be outside for long in case she needed him.

When he returned inside, he went to the bathroom and put his ear to the door. Hearing the water running, he relaxed and went back to the kitchen so he could start on dinner preparations.

If he had his way, he and P.J. were going to enjoy a peaceful evening together. Just the two of them. No team. No job. No outside world.

P.J. felt about two hundred percent better after boiling herself in the hot shower. She’d even removed the bandages from her wound and cleaned it too. She’d get Cole to help her reapply the dressing until she got it looked at the next day at the hospital.