doors. He’d been in a heavy sleep—the first one in two months, thanks to one assignment after another. Twiddling his thumbs would typically be the death of him, but he’d been ready for this vacation. Flown into Tampa for some deep-sea fishing, then leaving for a sweet cruise to the West Indies in two days. Vacation. A word Wilder Flynn, his best bud and boss, didn’t seem to understand.
You’re less than thirty minutes from her. You’ll be back in bed before the sun is up, dude. Promise.
Shep better be, and he was the closest to Caley Flynn. Twenty-nine minutes away to be exact. As if he hadn’t thought about her being near enough to swing by and see for a minute. But he’d never have done it in a million years. Nope. He wasn’t going near Turtle Girl unless he was instructed.
She was Wilder’s baby sister for one. And for two, she was sweeter than Alabama tea and way out of his league. He might only have six years on her in age, but he had a lifetime in experiences he wished he’d never had. He couldn’t help that. Couldn’t help the way his gut tightened every time he saw her wide blue eyes. Her black-as-night hair on summer-bronzed skin.
But he’d been instructed. And here he was.
“It’s me, Caley.” Even now, skittish as a jackrabbit, she was a sight to behold. “Shepherd Lightman. I work with your brother at Covenant Crisis Management.” He’d been with Wilder since he opened the agency. Been around Caley many times when she visited, but why would she remember a nobody like him?
Big round eyes narrowed and she unlocked the glass doors. “I know who you are, Shepherd. I just didn’t expect you to be nose to the glass at my center.” She let him inside. “Why are you here?”
“Orders.” Just check on her, Shep. Humor her. She’s scared. She’s never seen a corpse. Not anywhere but a casket. It won’t be pretty. I’ll make a few calls to Tom, get the real deal. Just sit with her until her mind is put at ease and she knows this was an accident. She’s freaking clean out.
“From your brother.” He glanced around the aquarium. He’d never been here before. Huge photos of turtles lined the walls with information about each species underneath. Several tanks filled the room. Turtles inside each one. Smelled like fish to him.
Caley locked the doors and folded her arms, staring.
He stared back, panic creeping into his bones. Did she want...a hug or something? Oooh nooo. He wasn’t the comforting type. He could take down a dude from about two thousand yards with a sniper’s rifle, but “there theres” weren’t his thing. “I’m really sorry about what happened tonight. You’ll get through it.”
Caley blinked, tilted her head.
“It’s not easy seeing what you saw. Nightmares are normal.”
Her pouty mouth dropped open.
“I’m not good at this.” Heat flushed his neck and he shifted his weight. Yeah, he was closer distance-wise, but making people feel at ease wasn’t his thing. Wilder should have sent Jody. She was a female. And Caley and Wilder’s cousin. Had lots of words. Too many for his taste, but still. Shep was the worst at words. Worst at mushy-mush. He ground his jaw and sucked it up. “You need some physical contact?” Say no.
Caley’s eyebrows shot north at lightning speed. “Physical contact?”
“You know a hug or pat or something?” He stood like a dummy, not even knowing what to do with his hands—hands skilled at war, inexperienced at comfort—so he jammed them in his cargo shorts’ pockets.
“A hug? Or pat?” She crinkled her nose as if she’d gotten a whiff of a rotten odor.
“Or something,” he muttered.
Caley slowly shook her head. “No. I don’t need a hug or pat from you. I could use information, though. Like how did you get here so fast?”
“I was in Tampa.”
“Wilder said he was making some calls. Did he change his mind and put boots on the ground? Are you going to the medical examiner’s office for answers instead?”
Turtle Girl was an arsenal of questions.
She eyed his torso and neck. “You can stand down, soldier.”
Shep hadn’t realized he’d been tensed. But being around Caley Flynn made him nervous. He relaxed his shoulders. “He’s still making calls to our contact at the police department and the medical examiner’s office.”
“So why did he send you?” she asked.
“To make sure you remain calm.”
She snickered.
Why was that so funny?
“So offering some physical contact is your way of doing it?” A slender dark eyebrow rose.
Heat flushed his cheeks. “Well...no. Just seemed... I don’t know, like, maybe you needed it, but it appears you’re okay and don’t.” The woman sent his tongue into a knot. “Wilder said you were scared.” And wished he was there. But he couldn’t be. So he’d sent Shep. The last person she seemed to want here.
She slipped her bottom lip in her mouth. “I’m okay, Shepherd.” She didn’t seem 100 percent. “I was on my way next door to the dormitory to pack up Mary Beth’s belongings.”
“The vic?”
“The intern who died. My intern.” She pursed her lips and headed for the doors, mumbling something about her brother being a dope.
“Sorry.” He followed her, catching a hint of something fruity. She was like a ballerina, the kind that popped out of jewelry boxes. All slender and dainty. Her voice even sounded like a music box melody. He’d know. One of his many foster moms kept a box like that on her dresser. She also kept cash inside. Taking that cash had sent him straight back to the group home until another family thought they could love him into being a healthy boy, or until the government money for keeping him in their care wasn’t worth it anymore. No one had wanted him.
“So that’s why he didn’t send Jody? You were thirty minutes away?”
He snorted. Nope, Caley Flynn didn’t want him. “All you got is me, Little Flynn. Sorry to disappoint.”
She frowned. “As you can see, I’m fine. If you want to get back to your work in Tampa, you can.”
“It was a vacation.”
“Oh. Well, now I’m sorry.” She pushed open the door and waited for him to exit, then she locked it. “What are you doing there? Partying it up on the strip?” No contempt in her question. Neutral. But clearly his past preceded him.
“Nope.” He hadn’t lived that kind of lifestyle since he gave his life to Jesus in Afghanistan. But no one seemed to notice that. Just what he’d done beforehand.
“So what are you doing then?”
“Chartering a boat to deep-sea fish. Then boarding a cruise liner for the West Indies.” He followed her across the parking lot into the sand. His shoes were going to be filled with it. “Was this a motel?” The soft pink stucco
