An intensity she didn’t understand poured into Shane’s gaze. “I think that’s smart.”
She might be stupid for asking him this, but she figured anyone skilled and savvy enough to take on the Church gang might know what she needed to do. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I know you might not know anything about this.”
“What? Just ask. If I know, I’ll help. If I don’t, I’ll figure it out with you.”
With? Not for, but with. Like they’d do it together. Like maybe they were partners. She pushed the wishful thoughts away. “Do you know how I can get fake IDs for me and Jenna? And maybe some other paperwork, too?”
An emotion she couldn’t read passed over his expression. “Documentation for a new identity?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Exactly. Whatever that entails.”
Shane frowned. “I think it’s great you’re looking for a way out, Crystal. Truly. But . . .” Shane seemed to struggle for words. “I was hoping . . .” He closed his eyes, gave a rueful laugh, and tugged his hand through his hair, making the lighter blond ends all messy. Totally sexy. “You’d think I was a tongue-tied teenager asking his girl to the prom.”
Crystal smiled, but she was totally bewildered by what he was trying to say. “I don’t understand.”
He leaned forward and grasped both her hands in both of his. “Come stay with me. I have plenty of room for both of you. The guys you met at Confessions that night are what’s left of my Special Forces team. We’re sharing a building right now. We could keep you safe. Both of you. You wouldn’t have to run.”
For a long moment, Crystal’s brain couldn’t process what he’d said. Stay with him? And his—wait—his Special Forces team? Because it would be safer. Right. She shook her head. “I couldn’t impose you on and a bunch of others like that. I know you have a lot going on. And I want to get Jenna settled somewhere for real.”
Shane squeezed her hands. “It wouldn’t be an imposition at all. You and Jenna wouldn’t be the only women there, if that’s what you’re worried about. My best friend’s girlfriend lives there, and Becca’s great. She’d love you.” His gaze grew more intense. “This is . . . I need you to know . . . I don’t have any expectations here. I’m offering you two a safe harbor, no strings attached.”
Torn, Crystal shook her head again. The offer was too much, too tempting, too . . . she didn’t even know. But it made it hard to sit still in the booth. It seemed like the kind of thing she’d let herself believe in, then, poof!, it would just disappear, and she’d feel abandoned and disappointed. And stupid for having believed in the first place.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Shane, exactly, because she did. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t. But when you learned you couldn’t even trust your own father, it was near impossible to believe a man she’d known less than a week—no matter how good-hearted he seemed—would do something that big and amazing for her.
Bruno seemed safe once, too . . .
And even though her rational mind knew she was comparing apples to machine guns, the thought wound its way around her brain until it rooted deep.
All of a sudden, panic bubbled up in her belly, and she regretted opening her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you,” she said, grabbing her purse, scooting to the edge of the bench seat, and rising. She’d figure out another way to get what they needed.
Shane flew out of his seat and blocked her exit with his big body. “Don’t run away again. Please.” Slowly, he reached for her hand, like he knew she was on the verge of losing it and didn’t want to do something to push her over the edge. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I’ll help you. However you need. Just know staying with me is a standing offer. Okay?”
Crystal looked into Shane’s steel gray eyes—really looked—and saw nothing but sincerity. She blew out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
“Will you stay and talk? For just a few more minutes?” he asked.
Her muscles relaxed as she shifted her knees back under the table, and Shane returned to his side.
“Got a pen?” he asked, grabbing a small stack of brown napkins from the dispenser against the wall. He accepted the ballpoint from her hand. In rapid-fire fashion, he asked her a series of questions about her and Jenna: fake name—Jessica for Jenna and Amanda for Crystal, because another fake name was just what she wanted, birth date, hair color, eye color, city of birth, blood type, social security numbers, and more. When he was done, he folded the napkins and slipped them into the pocket of his jeans. “If I forgot anything, I’ll let you know. But that ought to allow me to get started.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she said. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Not sure. Probably not long. Let me confirm when I find some sources and know more.”
“Of course,” she said. And though he was saying all the right things and helping her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made him unhappy. Or maybe sad. And it put a rock in her stomach that the coffee wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry I don’t have more time today.”
“Maybe later?” Shane said, hope in his voice.
“After this lunch, I have to go back five ’til eleven,” she said.
A weighted pause sat between them. Crystal longed for the playfulness of before.
Shane nodded. “I’ll walk you out.” Outside, he took her hand again and led her to her old red truck. The car beside hers had parked crooked, forcing her and Shane close beside her driver’s door. Then Shane stepped closer still, until he had her pressed up against the steel made warm by the late-April air. “My offer of help is unconditional. Remember that.” She nodded, her heart beating fast against her breastbone. He kissed her. The softness only lasted for a moment, then it was like something snapped inside him—snapped inside both of them.
Caressing her cheek, Shane’s tongue swept into her mouth, exploring, tasting, twining with her own. His other hand stroked her long hair, while her hands found his waist and burrowed under the untucked shirt to find the bare, hard muscle of his stomach. He groaned into their kiss as he pursued her again and again, kissing, nipping, sucking on her lips. Intense but gentle, like he was a man with an unending appetite and the patience to match. Against her stomach, the long length of his erection hardened, sending Crystal’s heart into a fast sprint.
It was just a kiss. But it was the kind of kiss that made a woman feel claimed, desired, powerful. And even as he thrilled her, he was the kind of man who made her feel safe—no part of her doubted that if she said stop, he’d be off her in an instant. His clean scent, lean muscles, and gentle touch combined to make it impossible to forget it was Shane who held her in his arms. And it all allowed Crystal to do something she’d never done before—enjoy, want, and wish for more. Her nipples tightened, and her core clenched, and Crystal would’ve given anything to have had the afternoon free, then to have had the courage to spend it with him continuing what they’d started in the middle of this cloud-covered parking lot.
Shane pulled away, his forehead against hers, his harsh breaths caressing her wet lips. “You better go,” he said, looking at her like going was the last thing he wanted her to do. He retreated a step and gestured for her to move to his other side, then he opened the door for her.
Hating the distance between them, Crystal climbed into her truck and reached for the door, but Shane leaned into the breach.