Shaking his head, Reese said gently, “No, I don’t, Shay. If the books are in error, this isn’t your fault. You know that, don’t you?”
She pushed her fingers through her hair, feeling deep anxiety. “God . . .”
“Don’t go there,” Reese warned her quietly. He shut the books, hands resting over them. “You’ve got enough on your shoulders already, Shay. Let me carry this load for you, okay? I’ll figure it out and we’ll fix it.”
Giving him an anguished look, she said, “What if Ray screwed things up, though? What if we owe thousands of dollars more to the bank? I know my father has a savings account where he’s put money away over the years. I’ve not touched that bank account because it’s his retirement savings.” She rubbed her face. “This is so scary.”
Reese stood. “Come here,” he said gruffly. He wasn’t sure Shay would come to him, but the stricken expression on her face was one of utter need and hopelessness. To his surprise, she rose from the chair and stepped into the circle of his arms. It was almost shocking as her soft warmth pressed against his chest, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his waist.
“I need a hug,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
Reese knew that Shay hugged the other wranglers from time to time, too. Unable to help his reaction, his whole body went on a five-alarm-fire alert. He’d been without sex for two years. It wasn’t that he was a monk. He liked a woman as much as the next man. He recognized though that Shay had only friendship in mind.
Inhaling the scent of apricots as he rested his jaw against her hair, the silky strands tickling his jaw and neck, Reese closed his arms carefully around her shoulders. He wanted to crush her against him, take her mouth hungrily, share his heat with Shay.
He forced himself to do the right thing, felt Shay’s weariness, her sagging against him for just a moment. What she needed was a safe harbor. He wanted to press his lips against her hair, temple, trail kisses down to her mouth. Jesus, this was tough to ignore. The fullness of her breasts felt delicious against the hard wall of his chest. He was skin and bone in comparison to her.
Reese relished the momentary hug he gave Shay. And then he opened his arms, allowing her to step away from him. Her cheeks were flushed, and damn, if he didn’t see desire in her eyes! That surprised Reese. Was he reading Shay accurately? Or not? He was caught off guard and unsure. Who would want him in his present state? He was a loser. He’d lost everything. There was no way Shay desired him. No friggin’ way. He still didn’t know if she was in a relationship. No one had mentioned anything about it yet. It was his overactive imagination, that was all.
“Thanks,” she murmured, “I needed that.”
So did he. Awkward, fighting inside, Reese moved around the desk to protect her from himself. His skin where she had rested felt as if tiny flames were licking across it, exciting him. The last thing he needed right now was an erection. “You need some protection,” he told her gruffly, sitting down in the chair that no longer squeaked. He’d found a can of oil and fixed the thing earlier.
She pushed her fingers through her hair. “That isn’t going to happen.” She turned and walked to the door, opening it. “Thanks for your help on this mess, Reese. Let me know what you eventually find.”
“Yes,” he said, holding her sad gaze, “I will.”
Reese sat there in silence after Shay left the office. Her voice had been low, filled with surrender, as if she were giving up. Male voices carried down the hallway from the kitchen. He could hear the vets leaving the house to go to the bunkhouse. Finally, they were alone. Reese found that he wanted Shay to himself. Maybe he was more alpha male than he ever believed himself to be, and his mouth curved wryly over that thought. Shay made him want to guard her. Love her.
He wearily rubbed his face, leaning back in the chair, eyes closed, his imagination rampant as his body continued to throb and sense every place she’d lain against him. Reese felt like a thief, shamed by his reaction to Shay’s distraught moment. She thought he’d wanted to hug her and that was all. The truth was, if she’d indicated the least little bit that she wanted more than that, Reese would have given it to her. How close he’d come to kissing her.
Something wasn’t right, and Reese couldn’t ferret out what it was. Garret and he had sat for two hours poring over the books. Garret showed Reese the other books with the entries made by the different accountants. And he’d reinforced what Shay had said about Ray Crawford, that he was a drunk. A mean one.
“Got a minute?”
Surprised, Reese looked up to see Garret lean around the corner of the open door, his hand on the jamb. “Yeah, come on in.”
Garret nodded and shut the door, sitting down. “Shay looks really upset. What happened?”
“She asked me if there were any mistakes,” Reese said grimly. “I couldn’t lie to her, but I tried not to let her know the extent of what we’d discovered, either.”