Chapter Eighteen

Whistling into the wind and rain, Seth rounded the corner of his shack with a bucket full of clean sand and the tattered piece of an old rug he’d found in his uncle’s shed. The sand was for Gru’s indoor lizard outhouse. The rug was for his bed, if he slept on a bed. Come to think of it, Seth wasn’t quite sure lizards did that, but Gru had to sleep somewhere, and since there were no trees inside the shack… You get the drift.

But it was interesting what else he found in that locked shed. One side of the cramped twelve-by-twelve wooden building was stacked to the ceiling with wooden crates of ammunition, all makes and calibers, as well as a couple open crates of military-grade weapons, all sealed with a layer of good old cosmoline. M-16 assault rifles, Rugers, various other pistols, and—Damn, Heckler and Koch VP Tacticals, sweet! Uncle George stored an equally impressive array of noisemakers, aka flashbangs, as well as rocket-propelled grenades. Seth had no doubt there were a couple grenade launchers stashed in there, he just hadn’t found them yet.

And, oh yeah, an inflatable Zodiac—a Combat Rubber Reconnaissance Craft, equipped with a bilge pump and all. This one-of-a-kind specialty wasn’t as large as the one Cord used, but what the hell? Seth hadn’t known Uncle George had even been in the Corps, much less brave enough, downright gutsy enough, to take on human traffickers inside their own country. Uncle George wasn’t just a crotchety old man. He was a damned genius!

Despite the pouring rain, this was a good, good day. Make that—great! The same blood that pumped through Uncle George’s heart pumped a wellspring of positivity into Seth’s. He had a plan that included two of his very favorite people, Devereaux and Scottie. Until then, all he had to do was keep Gru happy, healthy and—

A flash of yellow waterside caught Seth’s eye. A woman stood there on the dock, facing the ocean, her hands stuck deep into the pockets of her bright yellow rain slicker. A diminutive, barelegged, barefooted woman with attitude.

“Devereaux!” Seth called out, but the wind tossed his voice back at him.

Gru’s lizard box could wait. Setting the supplies on the step, Seth jogged the distance. He didn’t slow until she stamped one delicate foot to the weathered dock and screamed into the wind, “I can’t do this anymore! It’s… it’s too hard!”

What now?

“I made a mistake already! I was wrong! Why can’t you ever, ever cut me some slack? I work hard every day and sometimes all night! But all I get from you is more work and more grief! You’re picking on me! Scottie doesn’t deserve what you’re doing to him. Neither do I. Stop it, God! Just stop it!”

That gave Seth pause. What mistake? Me? Should I turn away and mind my own business? But she sounded so sad. Swallowing hard, he cupped a palm to her heaving shoulder and asked, “Devereaux, what’s—?”

SMACK! One second, he was standing, the next he was flat on his butt. Seth stayed where he’d fallen, astounded out of his wits and blinking to clear the ringing in his head.

“Seth? Oh, Seth!” she cried as she knelt between his knees. “It’s you! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Umm, yeah,” he said, gingerly rotating his jaw to make sure he hadn’t lost a tooth. Her fingertips fluttered over his cheeks while he sat there seeing a couple stars, but damn. She’d just nailed him a good one and it hurt. “You hit me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I thought you were Sly, and…” Her rapid-fire apology dissolved into a whimper even as she climbed over his hips. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you yesterday, and I’m sorry I sent you away, and… and…”

And man, she was adorable. Seth forgot the punch. It didn’t really hurt anyway. With her nearly straddling him, yesterday became ancient history in a hurry. Cupping her rain-drenched jaw between his hands, he tugged her forward until she had no choice but to wrap her long legs around him. “It’s good to see you, Devereaux. I missed you.”

She blinked big blue eyes at him, the rain coming harder now, drilling into his forehead and cheeks. “R-r-really?”

“Yes,” he murmured before he tugged her in close and personal, and kissed the lips she kept biting. The wind blew over them. Lightning sizzled around them, and any second now—

CRACK! Right on cue, a deafening boom answered the sizzle. Yet Seth couldn’t tear his mouth from the woman French-kissing the life out of his tonsils, nor could he move his palms from where they’d settled on the rounded globes of the tempting ass beneath her yellow slicker. He could only lay there and soak in every last kiss and murmur, while Mother Nature—and a few tears—trickled over his face. Aw, damn. Devereaux was crying.

This was what he’d been waiting for, this passionate woman who loved with her whole heart, and who threw every last bit of her soul into all she did. But when another flash of lightning struck close enough that he smelled ozone, it was time to move.

“Come with me,” Seth urged as he lifted to his feet and took hold of her hand. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He gave her no time to ask questions as they ran for cover. Easing the door open, so he didn’t bump Gru, Seth ushered her into his dark little shack, which had gotten darker with the storm.

The lizard was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t stop Devereaux from looking around. “There’s no one here. Who’d you want me to meet?”

Seth held a stern finger to his lips. “Shhh. He might be asleep. He needs to rest and—”

“Uncle George? He came back? How could he? Where is he?”

“No, not George, but…”

Gru scurried out from under the bed then, puffed to twice his size, hissing, and snapping his tail like Zorro did his bullwhip.

“Holy hell,” Seth gasped at the powerful display of reptilian wrath. “I love this guy!”

Devereaux sank to her knees. “Gru! But how? But, but, but…”

“But I guess Sly didn’t kill Gru after all. Must’ve knocked him out, is all I can figure.” Seth joined the happy reunion, content to sit by Devereaux wherever she landed.

“But Sly stabbed him. I know he did. I saw the blood.”

“Yeah, about that…” Seth scratched his itchy brow as his chest filled with that intoxicating, everything’s-right-with-my-world sensation. “Did you happen to notice if Sly’s hands were bandaged when we ran into him on the dock that night? I think most of what you saw was his blood, not this little dragon’s. Gru’s got a good-sized slice under his arm. I cleaned it and smeared antiseptic on it, but I’ve been reading up on iguanas. They don’t bleed all that much. All that blood on your hands and clothes must’ve been Sly’s. It’s just possible he got more than he bargained for when he tangled with Gru.”

“No, I… I didn’t notice. I was too scared and…” A hiccup choked her reply. “But Gru was dead. I was so sure. He wasn’t moving, and he wasn’t breathing, and… oh man! I buried him alive!”

Devereaux reached for her baby, but Gru hadn’t relaxed those beautiful pointy spines on his back yet. Uh-uh. Hissing, he lunged as if he meant to bite her fingertips, not moving forward, but just enough to be scary. Posturing his handsome, scaly body, and going for no-kidding intimidation—just like any guy who’d been buried alive by the woman he adored—Gru’s throat swelled, and with it, the puffy discs on his cheeks all but glowed with opalescent defiance.

“Has he ever bitten you?” Seth had to ask before things got further out of hand. Gru looked that pissed.

Devereaux shook her head, raindrops spraying his face when she tossed her silvery-white locks. “Never. It was love at first sight. Honest. Here, baby. Come to Mama,” she crooned, her fingers extended again as she coaxed her scaly ‘baby’ to let her approach.

Which Gru did. It took him a couple minutes, but finally, the ridge of spines up his tail and back relaxed. He seemed to deflate, especially when she curled her index finger under his chin and scratched. Damned if that tiny dinosaur didn’t close both eyes and smile. The corners of his lizard lips curved up. Seth was sure they did. Obviously, Devereaux was as irresistible to male iguanas as she was to him.

Shoving up from the floor, Seth grabbed a dry t-shirt from the end of his bed and shrugged into it. From the bathroom cupboard, he snagged a couple bath towels and handed them to Devereaux.

“Thanks,” she said as she wrapped one around her shoulders and the other in a turban over her head while still holding Gru. Uncle George had installed an electric heater beneath the kitchen cabinet. Seth set it on low, and then rejoined the happy family in the middle of his floor.

He kept his distance this time, though, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them. Women were highly sensitive, emotional creatures. He wasn’t about to assume Devereaux wanted anything more than that first impetuous kiss she’d blessed him with on shore. She hadn’t come out here in the middle of a treacherous storm for no reason. She wanted something. It’d be nice if that something were him, but yeah. Seth knew better than to jump to that crazy conclusion again. He held back, and he held on.

Gru wasn’t the cuddly type, yet damned if he wasn’t snuggling on Devereaux’s lap while she stroked the floppy dewlap under his chin and rocked him like a kid. The funny guy basked—yes, basked—in her arms. His eyes closed, and his chin lifted the way it did when he’d been soaking up the early morning sun. The sappy sight was enough to make a hot-blooded man jealous of a cold-blooded reptile.

At that uneasy realization, Seth scrambled to his feet and retrieved the supplies he’d left outside at the front door. The sand in the bucket was good and wet, and the rug wasn’t much better. They stayed where they were, while he came up with the only other option. Looks like Gru’s sleeping under my bed tonight.

Leaning his hip to the kitchen counter, Seth crossed his arms over his chest. The one thing every soldier did best was to hurry up and wait. It happened on good days, bad days, and in between, I’m-so-bored-out-of-my-mind days. That was Army life for you. Hurry up and wait, then get ready to do it again tomorrow.

So he waited. After soothing her baby a few moments longer, Devereaux lifted her gaze. The prettiest topaz-blue gaze rested on Seth. Except for her blonde hair, the black towel she’d draped over her head gave her the Mideastern appearance of a much younger girl. An innocent girl. With the way she chewed the inside of her cheek, there was hope in the look she sent him. Her hair was tousled and wet. The apples of her cheeks glowed red. Her eyes seemed bluer. Darker.

“Thank you for what you’ve done for Gru, Seth,” she said very quietly. “I don’t deserve it, not after the way I treated you.”

“Yeah, well…” he mumbled, suddenly ashamed how he’d wallowed in yet another pity party of his own making last night. “He’s the one who scratched his way out of his grave. I just intercepted him before he hit the beach and took off.”

Devereaux closed her eyes, her lashes spiked and wet. This courageous woman had some hefty problems of her own, yet she hadn’t resorted to feeling sorry for herself. If anything, she gave back a hundredfold. Scottie had no idea how much his mother sacrificed for him, but the cute little guy definitely knew he was loved, and that was most important. And look at that charming Gru. He’d returned from the dead, and by hell. He. Was. Smiling.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Seth asked as he set his long legs to doing something useful, like walking over to Uncle George’s compact fridge for a dozen eggs, then whipping up a couple omelets to go along with that coffee. Devereaux needed the distraction of breakfast as much as he did. His stomach had set to growling, which reminded him. The generator out back needed more fuel, but he’d left the pontoon boat docked on the mainland. Not smart, McCray.

Easing out from under Gru, Devereaux lifted to her bare feet. “Seth.”

He turned, and damn. There were no words for the beauty standing in the middle of his uncle’s shack, and Seth couldn’t have uttered them if there were. A beat of silence stretched between them. His brain turned to mush, just before an intense bolt of desire traveled the short distance, from her sultry blue eyes to his, like sniper fire.

“Yes?” he replied, his voice gone rough with desire. The storm crashed outside. Lightning still flashed, and thunder still cracked like Thor’s hammer. Rain poured down in wicked, noisy torrents, but Seth could’ve stood and stared at Devereaux forever. The light in her eyes was back, and he was falling.

She took one step to him. No smile breached her pretty pink lips, but those blues brimmed with an ocean of regret and repentance. Aw, hell. He was no hardass, just a weak, lonely man seeking his own repentance for dealing with the crap life had thrown at him. They weren’t so different.

Closing the distance, Seth tugged her willing warm body against him and prayed for another chance to be part of her life. For a kiss. Hell, he’d settle for a crumb if it came from her hand. What he got was a luscious armful of Devereaux Shepherd.