The moment her mouth blossomed in scalding invitation to his, he shuddered—the pleasure, the heat of her lips fully against his. Flooded with dormant sensations he thought he’d never feel again, a deep, rumbling groan rose in his chest. Reese felt Shay’s other hand slide firmly against his spine, desperately blending them against one another until he was melting into her like hot, sweet honey.
Her mouth was beguiling, her arms sweetly strong, holding his broken spirit, mending him back together with her courageous heart. It drove tears into the back of Reese’s eyes as he completely gave himself to her. He felt Shay respond in kind. The world centered only on their mouths clinging hungrily to one another, searching one another with an eagerness that shocked him. Shay was just as starved as he was! That realization struck Reese deeply. It told him how wounded she really was, that Shay hid her own injuries from all of them. That he’d been wrong: She wasn’t light years ahead of them when it came to her PTSD.
He brought her completely into his arms, caring for her, loving her, glorying in something so beautiful and right between them, that they celebrated it together. They understood one another completely because they had walked in the same shoes.
Reese became aware of so many things about Shay, about himself, that it overwhelmed him emotionally. More than anything, he felt her fragility on a level he’d never plumbed before. Despite Shay’s strength, she was so terribly, mortally wounded, that it scared the hell out of him. Only when she’d dropped those walls she’d held so well in place, with this one kiss, did he honestly realize how much she was struggling. It broke his heart in one way, and in another, his protective nature reared up like a dragon within him and he swore silently he would do something to shield her. Reese didn’t know what. Only that he would. Shay had the courage to not only open up to him, but trust him enough to fully reveal her wounds to him. Shaken to his core, Reese gently eased from her mouth, their ragged breaths mingling.
Slowly opening his eyes, he stared down into her deep blue eyes that were flecked with what he swore was joy in their depths. Shay still held him, had not released him, silently wanting the connection they’d forged with one another earlier. Her cheeks were flushed, and his gaze dropped to her wet lips, swollen from the power of his kiss. Instantly, Reese regretted it, had not even realized he’d kissed her so urgently, a starved beggar.
Looking into her dazed eyes, Reese hunted for signs that Shay regretted kissing him. He found none. Instead, he felt happiness begin to infuse his heart, a simmering hope that scared him. Could he hope? Did he dare? Ruthlessly, Reese drank in her softened expression, the tender way the corners of her mouth curved slightly up. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Shay had wanted to kiss him. This wasn’t about being comforted; she’d wanted him woman to man. Could he be reading her expression correctly? God, he was afraid to translate any of it in that direction.
The woman in his arms right now was sweet, vulnerable, hurting, and joyous all at the same time. How could that be? Reese walked in a minefield of confusion. He didn’t trust himself to read a person accurately anymore. But Shay felt so damned good in his arms, made him feel like a whole man once more, that he just couldn’t begin to go there and believe all that he was feeling and sensing.
Reluctantly, he released her, his throat tight with so many words, so many things he wanted to say to her and her alone. He managed to gruffly ask, “Are you sorry?”
Shay blinked slowly, easing out of his arms, her hands on his lower arms, as if she didn’t trust herself quite yet. “Sorry?” she whispered, tilting her head, drowning in his gaze. “About what?”
Reese felt terror combined with such violent hope that he stood awkwardly, not wanting to lose contact with Shay. He could feel her fingers gripping his arms, saw her dazed expression. She was excruciatingly open to him right now. Feeling like a jerk, he swallowed hard. “About kissing me?” It had been painful to ask, but Reese had to know. To hope against hope. He found himself trying to protect himself inwardly from what her answer might be.
Shay made a sound in her throat, her voice husky. “No . . . I needed to kiss you, Reese.” Her voice grew wispy. “It . . . was wonderful. You were wonderful . . .”
Never had any words melted him more than hers in those moments. His mind refused to believe her, but his heart was hammering with elation. Reese felt her release his one arm, her fingers coming to rest against his chest. Lifting his hand, he wiped the last of the dampness from her cheek.
Just then, the screen door opened.
Shay released him and, giving him a look of apology, moved toward the sink. The thunk of boots echoed down the hall toward the kitchen.
Reese turned, heading to the table, picking up the cups.
Garret rounded the corner. He looked first at Shay and then over at Reese.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Reese shook his head, “No, we’re done with our coffee. Kitchen’s all yours.”
Shay looked at her watch, her voice oddly husky. “Time for lunch.”