While he decided what to say, he took in all the details of her he hadn’t had time to notice when he walked in.
He liked the way she looked in skinny jeans shoved into hand-tooled cowboy boots so scuffed and creased that they appeared to have been her favorite footwear for a long time. A teal-blue turtleneck sweater covered her from chin to the tops of her thighs. He knew from wrestling with her that it hid a body with plenty of feminine curves. Not that he should be thinking about her in that way. Yet nothing he’d done so far today fell into the should category.
Unable to think of anything intelligent to say, Shay tried to ignore the man standing in her doorway. It wasn’t easy. Her gaze kept straying halfway toward him before she could snatch it back. Each foray made her more fully aware of his presence. The easy grace of his long body draped in camo reminded her of the hard muscles beneath. Of the way he’d effortlessly lifted her off her feet this morning. She could still recall the hard band of his arm pressing under her breasts.
Oh crap. She needed to stop thinking altogether.
Desperate for distraction, she looked down at Bogart, who had come up to her with his tail wagging, certain that his presence was welcome.
She squatted down and hugged his neck. “My hero.” She didn’t dare glance at James for fear he would realize that she was referring to him. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
Finally, she peeked at James as she leaned her cheek against Bogart’s back, stroking him with long slow glides of her hand. “Thank you.”
James sucked in a long breath. Her stroking hand was damned distracting. He leaned away from the wall. “You’re welcome. Glad we could help out.” He glanced around, uncertain of what to do next. “So, I guess we should be going.”
He signaled to Bogart, who whined and lay down at Shay’s feet instead of obeying.
A chill shot through James. Bogart had never disobeyed him before. Just how badly was their bond ruptured by their weeks apart? Or was Bogart still feeling very protective of Shay? The color had come back into her face but her expression was as wary as ever. Maybe his dog understood her needs better than he did.
“Have you fed Prin—Bogart today?”
James shook his head. “He shared my package of peanut butter crackers at the station but…”
Shay stood up. Trying to ignore the fact that he was watching, she leaned up on tiptoe to take down a bag of food from an overhead shelf.
James was paying attention, not only to obvious things like how her sweater lifted to reveal her nicely rounded butt, but to how hard she was trying to push past the trauma of the last minutes by finding ordinary things to do. Her hands shook as she poured hard nugget chow into a bowl, but he hadn’t yet seen a single tear. Many victims dissolved into a puddle the instant they were safe. Shay’s reaction was to retreat into a porcupine ball of thorny hostility.
“What’s that?”
Shay paused in pouring liquid from a jar she’d taken from the refrigerator. “Chicken soup left from last night.” She put the bowl in the microwave for several seconds then stuck a finger in to test the temperature. When she put the bowl on the floor, Bogart gave her hand a quick lick and then began wolfing it down.
James shook his head. “It’s embarrassing what that dog will do for food.”
Shay turned to James with a grin so wide he had to laugh.
When the laughter subsided they were left standing looking at one another. Shay’s eyes were wide, speculative, as if weighing every ounce of him for clues. To what?
On James’s side at least, there was an undercurrent of something coming to life, something remarkably like sexual attraction. It made no sense. But then nothing about the day had made sense. He’d just ended the worst relationship of his life. And Shay, from what he could gather, was still trying to end one. Neither of them needed another entanglement. He groped for a way to break the moment.
“You should have told Deputy Ward about last night’s visitor.”
She gave him a startled look. “How do you know about that?”
“I was in the woods, doing a stakeout, looking for Bogart. Saw someone watching your cabin. The way you went after him, I’m guessing you already knew it was Eric. Why didn’t you mention that to Deputy Ward?”
He saw her internal struggle reflected in her expression. Definitely hiding something. In the end she just said, “I was about to make dinner. I suppose there’s enough.”
James decided that might just be the most ungracious invitation he’d ever received. But he wasn’t offended. The excuse would give him time to learn a little more about her. “Thanks.”
“It’s nothing special. A little Hoppin’ John and fried oysters.”
James’s mouth watered in anticipation. “Sounds great.”
She looked him up and down again in a way that made him suddenly very aware of every slept-in wrinkle and blade of grass still clinging to his clothing, and the hard scratch of stubble on his face. “You really slept in the woods last night?”