Shades of Gray (17 page)

CHAPTER 29

“OH
my God, I’m stuffed,” P.J. groaned as she pushed her plate away. “That was so freaking
good.”

Cole had taken her to this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that resembled a shack
twenty minutes from his house. They served a variety of country-style food, but the
seafood was out of this world.

She’d ordered the seafood platter and damn near ate the entire thing.

“I practically live here when I’m home,” Cole said. “Not that I can’t cook, but the
food is great and the prices are reasonable. No sense cooking for one when I can come
here.”

“If I had a place like this to eat, I’d never cook either,” she said.

“Glad you enjoyed it. You need a few more meals like this one.” His tone grew serious.
“You lost a lot of weight over the last six months, P.J. Weight you couldn’t afford
to lose. You could stand to pack on a few more pounds.”

If he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned, his comment would irk her. But it was obvious
he was worried, and she couldn’t fault him for that. She’d had plenty to say to him
when he was convalescing after taking a bullet. It was her turn to shut up and take
it.

The waitress walked up and P.J. sat back with a satisfied sigh while Cole settled
the bill. So far this dating thing had been . . . nice. They’d had a great meal and
casual conversation. It had been fun, and when was the last time she could say she
had a good time?

The last months had been anything but fun.

For that matter the only fun times she could recall were the times she spent with
Cole and her team. They were who she felt at-home with.

“You ready?” Cole asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

She pushed back her chair and then braced her palms on the table, keeping most of
her weight on her hands until she had her feet under her.

As she turned toward the doorway, Cole slid his arm around her waist, pulling her
into the shelter of his body. She fit perfectly underneath his arm, her head just
on level with his shoulder.

Without giving it a second thought, she wrapped her arm around him in return as she
limped toward the exit.

There was a chill to the air tonight that had been absent the night before. Spring
was still deciding if it was here to stay and winter was fighting a losing battle.

She shivered lightly as the wind picked up, and Cole rubbed his hand up and down her
arm to warm her.

“I’ll build us a fire when we get back to the house if you like. We can kick off our
shoes, get in some comfy clothes and park it on the couch to watch our movies.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice.”

It sounded . . . romantic. A cozy evening on the couch at home watching movies. It
was something she’d have done as a teenager, and now, knocking on the door to thirty,
she was just as giddy as her teenage self used to be.

“Hey, how old are you, Coletrane?” she blurted.

He stopped in the process of opening his truck door for her and looked at her with
a raised brow. “Thirty-two. Why?”

She shrugged. “No reason. I just realized I never knew how old you were.”

“And it occurred to you that you just had to know right this moment?” he asked with
a chuckle.

He opened the door and waited as she slid into the seat. Then he walked around to
get in on his side.

“Well, yeah,” she said as he pulled out of the parking lot. “It would be kind of weird
if you were younger than me.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Why the hell would it be weird? And
am
I younger than you?”

“No. I’ll be thirty this year. And I don’t know why. I’ve just always assumed you
were older.”

He shook his head. “You get some strange ideas, P.J. Age is irrelevant. Whether you
were older or younger than me wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I hope to hell
it wouldn’t affect how you felt about me.”

The last thing she wanted was to cause dissension between them.

“Honestly, I was just curious. It’s no big deal.”

She had her elbow propped on the console, and he reached over, sliding his fingers
down her arm until he got to her hand. Then he simply picked it up, curled his fingers
around hers and rested their joined hands between them.

For a long moment she simply stared at his hand cupped over hers. Warmth spread up
her arm and into her chest. It was the simplest thing in the world. At her age, it
shouldn’t send an odd flutter through her chest or make her feel like a breathless
teenager on her first date.

But he had that effect on her. She felt like she was being courted. God, what a silly,
outdated word, but it was so appropriate. Cole seemed to have an old soul when it
came to relationships, and she thought it was kind of cute.

The men she was used to going out with forwent the courting phase and went straight
for the fly of her jeans. There was nothing slow or patient about their methods. It
was usually a question of “do you want to fuck or not?”

Clearly she’d been hanging out with the wrong guys.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

She laughed. “I was just thinking that I’ve been hanging with the wrong guys.”

“Oh? Do tell. What prompted that epiphany?”

“The guys I was with in the past were douche bags. I can’t think of a single one who
ever held my hand, offered me pain medication, cooked me breakfast or wanted to watch
cheesy disaster movies on the couch.”

“Appalling,” he said in mock shock.

“I know, isn’t it?”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’m glad you’ve seen the error of your ways.”

She smiled and leaned back against the headrest. Damn but she could really fall hard
for this guy. Her teammate. Someone she had no business entering a relationship with.
It could fuck up all sorts of things. Or it could end up being the start of something
truly wonderful.

Oh, to have a crystal ball.

It was completely dark by the time he pulled into his driveway. The porch light glowed
warmly, illuminating the homey feel of his house.

Welcome home, it seemed to say.

Cole cut the engine and hopped out, hurrying around to her side as she opened her
own door. He reached in to take her hand and helped her out.

Still holding her hand, he shut her door and then headed toward the porch, matching
his step to her awkward, slower one. She leaned on him a little harder when she navigated
the steps but was pleased with the progress she was making.

He flipped on the lights as they entered the house, and he took her to the couch first,
insisting she sit back. He lifted each foot in turn and slid her tennis shoes off,
tossing them to the side. Then he dragged the ottoman from its position in front of
the armchair over to the couch so she could prop her leg up.

“All comfy?” he asked.

“I couldn’t be any more comfortable,” she replied.

“I’ll just go get us something to drink and throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave
and then we’ll crank up the end-of-the-world movies.”

“Awesome!”

She watched as he walked away and continued staring when he disappeared from sight.
She was falling so hard for him and she was awash in the giddy sensations of a new
relationship. When everything was new and fresh and every little thing was exciting.
When each touch was a thrill and you savored even the briefest contact.

They’d already had sex, for God’s sake, but this was completely different. It was
as if that one night they’d shared together was a lifetime ago and erased from the
equation. They were starting brand-new, as if they’d just met, only the ease in which
they got along hinted at a long-standing friendship that was charting new territory.

He returned five minutes later with a bowl of popcorn and two cans of cola. He handed
her a drink and the popcorn and then went to the television to retrieve the remote.

As he settled onto the couch beside her, he turned on the TV and started flipping
through the menu of movies they could watch.

“So what’ll it be? The world taken over by aliens or the world engulfed by a giant
tsunami?”

“Definitely the aliens. Can’t kill a tsunami. The alien movie will have lots of gratuitous
violence.”

“Excellent choice. Aliens it is.”

He leaned back, putting his arm over her head and then down around her shoulders.
He pulled her close, and she was happy to snuggle into his side. The popcorn was sitting
on his lap within easy reach, and she munched idly as the movie began.

“You realize how unrealistic this is,” P.J. said, an hour into the movie.

“I would have never guessed,” Cole said dryly.

“Well come on. Put KGI up against the aliens. We’d take them out in two seconds flat.
These aren’t even scary aliens. Why do they keep fighting them hand to hand? Just
throw a fucking grenade and take out the lot of them.”

Cole laughed. “You have a point, but then there’d be no action and no conflict, thus
no movie.”

“Speaking of like dudsville for an alien movie, remember that Mel Gibson movie with
the aliens and there’s all this tension and hoopla over the alien invasion and he
and his kids survive the night and then they hear on the radio the next day that some
tribe in Africa discovered a way to kill them all and boom it was over? Talk about
total letdown.”

“Well, if I remember right, the aliens weren’t really the point of that movie,” Cole
said.

“Yeah, well, they should have been. It was more interesting than the hokey come-to-Jesus
moment the guy supposedly had.”

Cole laughed and shook his head.

“I don’t want to have to think during a movie,” P.J. said. “I just want brainless
violence and lots of cheesy action.”

“Are you trying to tell me your IQ isn’t setting the world on fire?”

She elbowed him in the gut and he let out a yelp. He wrapped both arms around her,
trapping hers against her body, and then he grinned triumphantly at her.

“If I didn’t have an injury, I’d totally kick your ass right now, Coletrane.”

“Yeah, yeah, all bark and no bite.”

His mouth hovered precariously close to hers, so close she could feel the warmth of
his breath over her lips. She glanced up, meeting his gaze, wondering if he was thinking
the same thing she was thinking.

“I’m going to kiss you, P.J.”

Evidently he was.

“I was hoping you would,” she whispered.

His mouth covered hers, warm and sweet. He relaxed his grip on her arms and slid one
hand up to her face to cup her cheek as he deepened his kiss.

His tongue delved over hers, salty from the popcorn, with a hint of butter and the
sweetness of the cola. His fingers dug into her hair, around to the back of her head
and then down to her nape.

“Make love to me, Cole.”

He pulled back in surprise, his eyes narrowing with concern.

“I don’t want to push you into anything, P.J. It’s probably better if we wait until
you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” she said, plunging ahead recklessly. “I want this. I want
you
.”

He stared at her a long moment as if he couldn’t make up his mind. She pulled him
down into another long kiss, this time making sure she was the aggressor.

When he broke away this time, his breaths came in ragged bursts. His chest heaved
and it was clear he was battling his urge to give in.

“I distinctly remember you saying you were going to take me home and make me feel
all better,” she said.

“Christ, P.J. Are you sure? This is too important. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

She stroked her hand over his jaw. “Please.”

It was the
please
that seemed to do it. He pushed himself up from the couch and then reached down,
sliding his arms underneath her, and plucked her from the cushions.

He strode toward his bedroom and shouldered the door open.

“Get the light,” he directed.

She swiped her hand along the wall until she found the switch and then flipped it
up, flooding the room with light. He carried her to the bed and gently set her down.

“We have to be careful,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt your leg. Let me take off
your pants first.”

Her leg was the last thing she was thinking of. She wanted him close. Wanted to replace
the memory of Nelson and Brumley with Cole. Just Cole. He’d chase away her demons.
She was sure of that.

He carefully slid her sweats down over her hips and down her legs, taking care not
to bump her wound. His fingers grazed her skin, setting fire to her senses. A thousand
chill bumps danced across her thighs and midriff when he let his hands glide back
up her bare legs and then under her T-shirt.

He pulled upward, baring more of her, and she lifted her arms over her head, a signal
that it was okay for him to take the shirt too.

Now left in only her bra and panties, she trembled as shadows lurked in her mind.
She forced her attention to Cole, refusing to allow anything to ruin this moment.
But even so, a chill settled over her.

Her scars were there for him to see, and they were still raw looking. Ugly. Marks
put there by other men.

“Tell me what you want, P.J. You’re calling the shots here. Tell me how to please
you.”

“I’m cold,” she whispered. “Make me warm, Cole. Please take away the cold.”

He stripped out of his clothing and carefully lowered his body to hers. He stroked
her hair away from her face and kissed her, long and leisurely.

He broke from her mouth and pressed a tender line from her lips down her jawline and
to the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. More goose bumps broke out, but this time
she didn’t feel the same chill she had before.

His warmth bled into her, soothing away her fears and giving her soul deep comfort.

Holding her tightly to him, he rolled so they were resting on their sides. His hand
smoothed down her arm all the way to her fingertips and then on to her hip before
slowly gliding upward again, this time going underneath her arm, over the curve of
her waist and to her breast.