Shades of Gray (15 page)

CHAPTER 26

COLE
watched P.J. sleep from the chair across the room. It’s where he’d found himself for
the last hour, studying her as she rested.

Such a complex individual in a small package. She had layers that would take him forever
to completely unravel, and yet he looked forward to the challenge. Life definitely
wasn’t boring with P.J. around.

Looking back, he wasn’t even certain when she’d become such an integral part of his
life. He’d admit he’d been somewhat of an asshole when she’d first been brought on
board. He’d been skeptical of her skills because she was a woman. It had been hard
for him to look at her and imagine a kick-ass warrior that the team needed.

She’d very quickly proved him wrong, and he was man enough to admit he’d totally fucked
up and had been a complete dickhead chauvinist.

P.J. had taught him a lot, though. She’d changed his outlook on most women. By watching
her, he’d learned not to assume that women were weaker just because they were female.

She carried her weight and that of the team sometime. He admired the hell out of her
and would have told her on multiple occasions if he hadn’t known he’d have gotten
his ass kicked for it.

In essence she was absolutely perfect for him. He wanted her. More than he’d ever
wanted another woman, and she was certainly the first woman he’d actually considered
that he’d like a long-term relationship with.

Marriage?

He’d resolved early on that he wasn’t the kind of guy that was cut out for a wife,
kids and the whole nine yards of domesticity. He liked action. Liked the thrill his
job provided. He’d never be happy settling into a nine-to-five job, coming home to
check things off the honey-do list. And he knew there weren’t many women who would
put up with his schedule. Never knowing when he’d come home or when he’d get called
up on another mission. He couldn’t blame them either.

But what if the woman he fell for lived for the same things he did? Could it work?
Would they be able to stay on a team together if they were romantically involved?

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.

CHAPTER 27

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.

She put on a pair of gym shorts so the wound was easily accessible and then pulled
on a T-shirt, not bothering with a bra. One, she didn’t have that much up top to worry
over, and two, Cole had already seen everything she had. They should be well past
the coy and modest stage by now.

After putting on socks to keep her feet warm, she carefully made her way back toward
the living room. Cole wasn’t there, but she heard noise from the kitchen, so she went
in search of him.

He was just placing the steaks on a platter to take them outside when he looked up
and saw her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Feel better?”

“You have no idea,” she breathed. “Almost human again.”

He set down the plate with the steaks and wiped his hands on a towel. Then he picked
up a medicine bottle, shook out a pill and handed it to her.

“Just a sec, I’ll get you some milk to take it with. Not a good idea to take these
on an empty stomach.”

She took the pill and waited while he poured a glass of milk and pushed it toward
her on the counter. She sipped at the milk, grimacing before finally popping the pill
into her mouth and drinking more to down it.

“Not a milk fan?”

She shook her head. “I don’t even like the smell of it. I get my calcium by eating
cheese. Lots of it.”

“What would you like to drink with dinner? I’d offer you a beer but it wouldn’t go
too well with that painkiller you just took.”

“Tea or water is fine. I’m more focused on the steak anyway. I’m already drooling
over it and it’s still raw.”

He grinned. “Girl after my own heart. I’m a big fan of cow.”

“Oh, I’m not particular. I’ll eat a chicken or a pig with as much enthusiasm.”

He glanced down at her bare leg and frowned. “That wound looks pretty nasty. We should
get another bandage on it.”

“Yeah, I thought you could help once you got the steaks on. I wanted to clean it in
the shower. Plus the hot water felt good on it.”

“Can you make it outside or you want me to go put the steaks on then come back for
you?”

She took a hesitant step forward, gripping the countertop. “You lead and I’ll follow.
I’ll do my very best not to take a header.”

He smiled and picked up the platter, placing the tongs on top. As he walked out of
the kitchen to the French doors overlooking the patio, she followed slowly behind
him. By the time she made it to the door, he was already putting the steaks on the
fire.

She stepped outside and breathed in the honeysuckle-scented air. Crickets chirped
in the distance and the low hum of tree locusts rose in the evening air. The sky was
covered with the pale shade of dusk and the sun was barely clinging to the horizon
as it slipped lower and lower.

It was a perfect evening for a cookout.

She took a seat at the table and stretched her leg out to its full length underneath.
The pain medication was already dulling the vicious ache, turning it to a more tolerable
hum.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said as Cole lowered the lid to the grill.

“I like it. It’s close to work but it’s still private. I don’t have to worry about
tripping over anyone when I’m here. It’s kind of nice after coming off a mission to
hole up away from the world for a few days.”

“Steele had been bugging me to move out this way. You know, before that last mission
and all.”

Cole studied her intently. “And? Were you considering it?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Before, I would have likely given it thought but
probably would have put it off or made an excuse. I was comfortable in my routine
and I liked that work was a world away from where I lived.”

“And now? You said
before
like things have changed, or at least your thinking has.”

She gazed over the pond, watching as the first firefly popped and glowed a line over
the water before blinking off again.

There was something mesmerizing about fireflies. Something that took her back to her
childhood when things were simple and summer days were spent chasing dreams.

It was a wake-up call that so much of her adulthood had been spent being unsatisfied
with herself, her relationships and her jobs.

When had she changed from a laughing little girl dreaming of changing the world to
a cynical adult who believed the world wasn’t savable?

“P.J.?”

Cole broke softly into her thoughts, and she realized he was waiting for a response
to his question.

“Now I’m not so sure. It was actually the night you came into the bar when I had this
moment of realization that I was still living in the past by hanging around in Denver.
There’s nothing for me there. No reason to stay. No ties. Nothing. At least here I’d
be closer to work if nothing else.”

“You’d have me,” he said.

She lifted her gaze to his and their eyes locked. He didn’t flinch away. Didn’t try
to hide anything from her.

“I don’t want to screw up our friendship. I can’t lose that, Cole. It’s too important
to me. It’s why I reacted the way I did the morning after, because all I could think
was how stupid I’d been to risk something that means so very much to me.”

“You aren’t going to lose me, P.J. Don’t doom us before we even give it a shot.”

She dropped her gaze and returned it to the pond again, counting the fireflies as
they danced through the air. More and more were popping into view, and the sounds
of night grew louder. In the distance, an owl hooted, sending an eerie shiver down
her spine.

Was he right? Was she guilty of not even giving them a shot? Of shooting them down
before they even gave it a chance?

She was being a total chickenshit and offering up lame excuses when at the heart of
the matter she was just . . . afraid.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” she asked, voicing one of those fears. “What if things
end badly between us? We still have to work as a team, and if we fuck things up, it
creates tension for the entire team yet we have to work together. Our camaraderie
is what makes us so damn good. We could fuck up not only ourselves, but the entire
team. Worse, we could end up getting one of the others killed. I don’t think I could
live with that.”

“If it ever comes down to that, I’d be the one to leave,” he said quietly. “I’d never
force you out, P.J.”

“It would still devastate me,” she whispered.

“Don’t you believe in forever?” he asked. “What about all those romance novels you
read? Don’t they preach the happily-ever-after message?”

His words put an ache in her heart. She wanted happily ever after more than he could
possibly know. She wanted forever. Problem was, she just wasn’t sure she believed
in it anymore. It was why she clung to her fiction so much. She immersed herself in
books because there she could be anyone and it was easy to believe in love and happily
ever after.

“You’d make an awesome romance heroine. I’m just saying.”

She smiled. “You’d make a pretty badass romance hero too.”

“See? It’s fate. Or destiny. Whatever you want to call it. We’re meant to be together.
Wow, I’m starting to sound like a total pussy!”

She laughed, but the problem was, she was beginning to feel the same way. Cole just . . .
fit. There wasn’t anything she didn’t like about him, even when he was annoying the
shit out of her.

It was fun to bicker and snipe with him. He gave as good as he got but he never carried
a grudge. Never took it too seriously. And he didn’t let his ego get in the way of
things. She’d saved his ass plenty of times and he never resented her for it.

Her KGI team was everything her first team wasn’t. Loyal. They respected her. They
stood by her even when it meant putting their jobs on the line.

The sudden thought occurred to her that she was a flaming hypocrite. It was like being
blindsided by a right hook. Her thoughts must have been reflected on her face, because
Cole’s brow wrinkled in concern and he sat forward.

“What’s up, P.J.? You okay?”

She let out a disgusted sigh and rubbed her forehead in agitation. “I was sitting
here comparing S.W.A.T. with KGI and I was being all smug and self-righteous thinking
that my team here is everything my old team wasn’t. I’ve been so pissed at them for
so long, but it occurred to me that I’m a huge fucking hypocrite.”

He reared back in surprise. “Why the hell would you think something like that?”

“I turned my lover in for being dirty. I was so self-righteous and so ‘must do the
right thing’ and I was so black-and-white back then. There were no reasons, no explanations.
No excuses. You were either right or wrong. No in between. And yet here I am, having
murdered three men in cold blood and casually plotting the death of a fourth. My hands
are so stained with blood that I’ll never wash them clean. At least Derek wasn’t hurting
anyone. He didn’t kill anyone. He stole money from losers and drug dealers.”

Cole scowled, his face darkening as he stared back at her. “You aren’t comparing yourself
to that asshole.”

She made a sound of impatience. “Look at it objectively, Cole. I turn him in for being
on the take. I get hung out to dry and I’m bitter because everyone turned on me. Shit
happens here, I go off on my own and kill three men. Who’s the bigger criminal? You
guys have every reason to wash your hands of me.”

“Now you’re just pissing me off. It’s not like you to be all martyr-like. Shut the
fuck up and give yourself a break. You can’t compare your situation to the dumb fuck
you used to sleep with.”

She blinked for a minute and then burst out laughing. Oh God. This was what she loved
so much about Cole. He didn’t let her get away with stupid shit and he always gave
it to her straight.

Cole still looked disgruntled. “Those bastards needed killing. Even if they hadn’t
done what they did to you. What they’ve done to countless women and children is enough
to take them out. You did the world a favor, and I’m not going to let you get down
on yourself because you don’t regret killing them. Does it make it better if you lament
and feel guilty over killing them? If you’re looking to me for judgment, you’re shit
out of luck. I’m not much of a black-and-white kind of guy. I spend too much time
in those gray areas.”

He got up and busied himself flipping the steaks. The sizzle was loud and the wind
carried the scent of charcoal and cooking meat to her nostrils. She sniffed appreciatively
and her stomach rumbled in response.

When he finished, he walked past her. “I’m going to turn the outside light on and
get some bug spray so the mosquitoes don’t carry you off. I’ll be right back.”

The door opened and closed and she was left alone counting the fireflies and reflecting
on the conversation they were having.

Was she nothing more than a hypocritical, self-righteous prig? She’d always felt holier
than thou about the fact that Derek was involved in shady dealings while on the job.
It had affronted her and pricked her sense of honor. She’d been utterly disappointed
that he hadn’t upheld her lofty ideals. In her mind he’d failed not only himself and
his team, but he’d failed her, and maybe that was why she’d never been able to forgive
him.

But no matter what Cole said, she was no better than Derek. Her reasons may have been
different for crossing that line, but the end result was the same. She’d crossed a
line, and she could never go back.

Worse, she had no desire to go back. She felt no guilt, only savage satisfaction that
she’d taken out three of the four men that she’d vowed revenge on.

It wasn’t pretty. It certainly wasn’t righteous. But she wasn’t ducking the issue.
She knew what she was. A cold-blooded killer.

What was Derek’s sin when compared to hers?

She felt some of that old animosity ease and was able to let go of some of the resentment
she’d harbored for so long. She’d sold Derek out, whether it was the right thing to
do or not. For so long, she’d felt betrayed by him, but in essence it could be said
that she was the one who betrayed him.

Hell of a time to have an epiphany and discover shit about yourself.

The light flashed on and then the door opened. Cole came back out carrying a glass
of tea in each hand and a can of bug spray under his arm. He set one of the glasses
in front of her and then leaned down to spray the insect repellent over her legs.
She reached to cover her tea so he could spray her arms. When he was finished, he
returned to his seat.

He leaned back in his chair and eyed her curiously. “So tell me what P.J. stands for.”

She blinked and then stared at him, perplexed for a moment by the shift in conversation.
She hadn’t considered that the rest of the team didn’t know what the initials stood
for. Steele certainly knew because he’d barged through her background, leaving no
stone unturned before he hired her on. She was sure Sam, Garrett and Donovan had done
the same.

No one called her by her real name. Never had. A fact she was grateful for. She’d
always wondered what she’d done to piss her mother off that she’d stick P.J. with
such a hokey name.

“Come on, P.J. Give. I’ve never slept with a woman whose name I didn’t know. Until
you. It’s kind of making me feel like a man whore.”

She burst out laughing. “I ought to not tell you now so you can wallow in your man-whore-ness
a little longer.”

“You mock my pain. I have standards, you know.”

She snickered again and then pinned him with a glare. “I’ll only tell you if you swear
to, first, never tell another soul, and second, never ever call me by my full name
in public.”

He held up his hand. “I swear.”

“Penelope Jane,” she mumbled.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”