Loving A Hero Read online

  The sadness in her eyes made him want to hit something. "You said you weren't living the lifestyle anymore. And even if you were, that doesn't give someone the right to touch you without permission."

  "Deep down I know that.” A solemn smile curved her lips. “You have to understand, once I lost my parents, I lost love. I missed them. I missed having someone care about me. Every time I slept with someone, I knew I was searching for that one person who would care about me above all else."

  Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "And every time, I was disappointed. I think that's why it hurt so much when I found you with another woman. You were just one more example of my poor choices, someone who would only break my heart."

  Stan felt about two inches tall, regretting that one impulsive moment more than he could say. Totally his fault and it'd take time for him to make it up to her. Earn back her trust. Good thing he was a patient man, because no matter what he was going to be there for her.

  "Shelly, when you came into my life . . . Hell, I wasn't ready for the way you made me feel."

  Her eyes widened, hurt filling her gaze.

  Damn it. He needed to get this out before he totally screwed it up. "Please, let me explain."

  Her mouth firmed, and she nodded.

  "As a Marine, Dad was gone a lot, and my mother was unfaithful more times than I can count. Jealousy ate my father up whenever he was home, not that I could blame him. It infected every aspect of our lives. They fought constantly.”

  “Did he hit her?”

  “No, he’d storm out of the house and cool off, leaving her crying. Finally, when I was nine, she ran off with another man and never looked back. Dad managed to get a hardship discharge from the military to care for us. Unfortunately, he sank into a bottle and didn't come out until Carol came along."

  "How long was that?"

  "Four years. Colleen took on the mothering role and did the best she could, but she was only twelve herself."

  "That seems so unlike the man I met the other night." Her voice sounded sad.

  "Dad never abused us. Did the best he could, actually.” Stan shrugged. “He just couldn't seem to shake the depression of losing her. Every night after work, he’d sit in front of the TV with a beer. Or six."

  His laugh held no humor as he recalled those dark days. "I swore to never let a woman mean so much to me that I couldn't function without her. It's no excuse, but what I felt for you scared me. My jealousy scared me, and instead of talking to you about it, I pushed you away. Thought I'd be better off without you."

  He stared into her eyes, trying to convey his regret. "I was so wrong, Shelly. Please give me another chance."

  Her expression softened. "Okay. I get it. We've both made mistakes. Let's see where this thing between us goes.” She gave a small shake of her head. “I'm not making any promises."

  Something inside him eased, even as a part of him still raged over what had happened to her. "I couldn't expect anything more. Thank you. I won't let you down."

  Hating to bring it back up, but needing to know, Stan asked, "Shelly, that night, do you remember who gave you the drink?"

  "Not really. Some random guy who came by and offered me a cup of beer from the keg. I should have known better.” She shrugged. “It's not like we we're out at a bar or anything. It was a private party."

  "Not your fault, remember."

  She snuggled closer, tucking her head at the crook of his shoulder, playing with the hairs on his chest. "Life is strange. If not for that night I wouldn't have Maggie. So how can I regret it? She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It doesn't matter how she was conceived."

  It damn well mattered to Stan that Shelly’d been abused. For now, he'd let the subject drop. They'd discuss it later, when she wasn't feeling quite so vulnerable after sharing her story . . . And he wasn't feeling quite so lethal about it.

  Tilting her face up, he gently kissed her soft lips, wanting to offer comfort and soothe her emotions. When Shelly kissed him back with a fiery passion he hadn't been expecting, his desire for her was like a punch in the gut, and he groaned, taking the kiss deeper.

  The peal of his cell phone broke the spell. Stan lifted his head and cursed softly. "Hell. I better get that."

  Snatching the cell off the nightstand, he recognized Bob's phone number. "Yeah, what is it?"

  "Well hello to you too, sunshine," Bob drawled. "Thought you might like to know, I went back to my place after Dave fell asleep to check out the video feed, and we got a good photo of the guy. And, Stan . . ."

  There was a heavy pause. "You're going to want to see this first, without Shelly being present."

  Chapter Nine

  Shelly chewed on her bottom lip as they turned down the street to her apartment complex. Ever since Stan received a phone call from Bob, he'd been uptight. She'd asked him what was wrong, and he told her they'd gotten an image from the video camera Dave installed.

  She knew he was holding something back, and it made her extremely nervous. "You're sure Maggie's okay?"

  They pulled into her parking structure, and Stan killed the engine, glancing over at her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Maggie's fine. Like I said, I checked with my dad while you were in the shower." He patted her knee, then threw open his door, coming around to help her from the car.

  "Stan, I can see you're upset. What’s going on?"

  Keeping her hand grasped firmly in his, he led her into the building. "I don't know anything yet, Shelly."

  As the elevator rose, she pressed, "What did Bob tell you on the phone?" She had a niggling suspicion Stan wasn't telling her everything.

  His eyes staring straight ahead, his mouth firmed into a tight line as the elevator doors opened. "Nothing. Just said he had something to discuss with me."

  Her eyes narrowed. "You mean with us, right?"

  As they approached her apartment, he finally met her gaze. Without breaking eye contact with him, Shelly dug into her purse for the keys.

  Taking the keys from her hand, he unlocked the door. "As soon as Bob picks Dave up from the hospital, he'll stop over. Then we'll find out what's up."

  They entered her apartment and Stan closed and locked the door behind them. Shelly stood in the entryway, arms held protectively across her stomach as she studied the damage.

  Bob had obviously straightened up for her, vacuuming up the mess she’d been told about. There was no fixing the damage to the furniture, as if whoever’d been inside sliced everything with a knife in a fit of rage, broken lamps and knickknacks set back in their proper spot. Most everything would need tossed, beyond repair.

  Her gaze zeroed on the coffee table where the photo of her and Maggie should have been. “He took our picture.”

  Worry churned like a gathering storm in her stomach, her nerves strung tight, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

  Stan's hands gripped her from behind, and he gently spun her around, tugging her into a firm hug. "We’ll get it back. I promise. Everything’s going to be all right."

  He sounded so confident that Shelly felt some of her tension ease. She trusted him. That realization surprised her, yet there it was.

  She snuggled into Stan's tender embrace. When had she dropped her reservations about him? Was it when he'd listened to her sordid past without judging her? Or when he'd told her about his hang-ups with his mother?

  Or it could have been after he'd loved her so thoroughly throughout the night. Whatever the case, she wanted a relationship with him. He was a good man, and her daughter already adored him. Could they have a future together?

  Lifting her head, she met his worried stare and smiled.

  "What?" he asked, obviously reading something in her eyes.

  Shelly had never been good at hiding her emotions, everything she was feeling there on her face for anyone to see. She stroked her hand across his cheek. "I forgive you," she said simply.

  For a moment he froze, then a wide grin split his face. "Thank you."


  Lowering his head, he kissed her. A soft press of his lips, before tilting her head so he could scatter nibbling kisses across her cheeks, her neck, then back to her mouth again. "You won't regret it," he murmured against her lips, before lifting his head to stare down at her. "I swear, nothing like that will ever happen again."

  "I believe you." Threading her fingers into his thick hair, Shelly tugged him back in for another kiss. A kiss that quickly raged out of control as she poured all her feelings for him into her kiss.

  Need.

  Trust.

  And an emotion she wasn't yet ready to vocalize.

  Love?

  Yes. In her heart, she knew she loved this man. Trusted him to never hurt her again, at least not on purpose. Years of being hurt by men in one way or another held her back from telling Stan how much he meant to her.

  I need a little more time. To get used to the idea herself, before opening her heart to possible pain and rejection.

  Stan spun her around and pressed her back to the door. Taking the kiss deeper, he cupped her butt with one hand, lifting her up so his hard body was covering hers from chest to hip.

  "Baby, I want you again." He ground his rock-hard erection between her legs at just the right spot, sending sharp bursts of pleasure through her. She moaned into his mouth.

  They both froze at the sudden pounding on the door.

  "Stop whatever you're doing," Bob grumbled, even as the sound of Dave's chuckle indicated they both knew what was going on. "Let us in, Dave's still weak and needs to sit down."

  "It's okay," Dave called out with obvious amusement, "I'll just lean against the wall until you two are done."

  "Dave," Bob said sharply, "don't encourage them.”

  "Oh, lighten up, grumpy," Dave responded. "It's about time our girl got a little somethin' somethin'."

  Stan slowly lowered her to the ground, one brow arched in amusement. He set her to the side so he could open the door as Shelly burst into laughter.

  Bob walked inside, a brawny arm wrapped around his husband's waist as he led him over to the couch. Dave met her gaze and smirked. Other than his bandaged head and some bruising, he appeared to be his old self again.

  Still laughing, Shelly wiped a tear off her face and took a seat next to Dave, ignoring the damage to the furniture. Things could be replaced, Dave was irreplaceable.

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I'm so happy you're home."

  Dave hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Good to be home. Hospital food sucks. And that night nurse.” A shudder ran through him. “Craaaanky . . ."

  Relaxing against him, she heard Bob and Stan speaking softly in the background. She cast a quick glance their way, finding them in deep conversation.

  Meeting Dave’s solemn gaze again, his face etched with concern, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. "You know what they're discussing so secretly, don't you?"

  Dave gave a curt nod. "'Fraid so."

  "You going to tell me?"

  "I think this is something you should hear from your boyfriend."

  My boyfriend? Was Stan her boyfriend now?

  Her gaze shot back to him, and everything inside her went on high alert at the tense lines of his body, one hand fisted at his side as he studied the paper he held. As if feeling her eyes on him, Stan turned his head her way. Her heart stuttered to a stop at the look of pure rage in his eyes.

  Dave's arms tightened around her, as he whispered in her ear. "Be ready, baby girl, and remember we're here for you. Always."

  Every muscle in her body coiled tight, Shelly watched Stan make his way across the short distance. Bob remained by the breakfast bar, hard lines bracketing his face.

  "What is it?" Her voice filled with the rising tension inside her, bordering on a panic attack. They needed to tell her whatever the hell it was that had every man in the room worried about her reaction.

  She stood, twisting her hands in front of her. "Tell me, damn it."

  Stan cupped one side of her face, never taking his eyes off her as he handed her the paper. "This is the guy who's stalking you, baby."

  Without glancing down, Shelly reached for the paper, her hands trembling. What could be so bad to cause this reaction in them? She was afraid to find out.

  "Shelly," Stan said gently. "I'm going to take care of everything."

  Lowering her gaze to the paper, Shelly let out a gasp as horror filled her. Her legs gave out, and Stan caught her up before she collapsed, the paper floating to the floor. "No.” She shook her head pleadingly. “Please no."

  "Shh, it's going to be okay." Stan took a seat in the chair and gently held her to him, as if he were afraid she'd break. "You need to stay strong for Maggie."

  "He—” Shelly buried her face into her hands, fighting against the tears clogged in her throat. Images of her precious baby's face floated behind her closed lids.

  Then the image of the man stalking her flared bright, his face so familiar to her, yet not.

  His eyes so much like her Maggie’s, the same face she kissed every night as she tucked her daughter into bed.

  Stan opened the door to Shelly's apartment and waved Duke inside. Shelly had crawled from his lap about half an hour ago, heading into her bedroom to give Maggie a call. It seemed to be something she felt compelled to do after the devastation of learning the same guy who was stalking her was her daughter’s biological father.

  With Shelly’s permission, after she left the room he brought Bob and Dave up to speed on what’d happened to her at that goddamn party.

  The men already knew enough about her past that it didn’t come as a total shock. Bob even said, from the little Shelly had told them, he’d always suspected such. When he recognized Maggie’s features in the stalker, it’d only confirmed his suspicions.

  Stan filled Duke in on the phone. Now they had to figure out who this guy was and stop him.

  Stepping inside, Duke gave Stan's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. His gaze flicked around the apartment, before asking, "How's she doing?"

  "About what'd you expect," Stan said. He jerked his head toward the hallway. "She's in her bedroom, talking with her daughter."

  "Where's the photo?"

  Stan walked into the living room and picked the paper up from the coffee table, handing it to Duke. "We need a name, sooner than later."

  Duke nodded, taking the photo as Dave got to his feet. Bob stood with him, clutching his elbow to steady him.

  Dave patted Bob's back. "I'm fine, big guy. Duke and I are going back to the apartment to see about locating this scumbag."

  "Bob, why don't you go with them," Stan said. "As soon as Shelly's off the phone we're heading back to my place. She needs to be with Maggie right now. Call me as soon as you have something."

  Bob nodded, then left with the other two men.

  Ten minutes later, Stan went looking for her to make sure everything was okay. Stepping into her room, he found her napping on top of her covers, with her cell phone tucked against her chest. Spotting the dampness on her pillow from where she'd fallen asleep crying had him gnashing his teeth.

  This room had fared a little better than the living room, probably because Dave had arrived before the guy had a chance to do much damage.

  Shelly's lashes fluttered open, and he found himself looking into beautiful brown eyes that still held a dazed expression. He quickly closed the distance between them and plopped on the bed, hauling her into his lap. She came willingly, curling into him as he buried his face into her hair. She smelled like peach shampoo and tears, and felt utterly breakable in his arms.

  "What am I going to do, Stan?"

  The sound of her distress brought out every protective instinct inside him, on steroids. She'd been hurt a lot in her life, and guilt tore through him at his part in her pain. If he could turn back time, he'd change things. She and Maggie had come to mean everything to him, and he'd do whatever was necessary to make their world right again.

  "You're
going to go back to your daughter and let Duke and Bob handle things here. They'll find out who this prick is, while I keep you and Maggie safe."

  "Then what?" She peeked up at him through damp lashes.

  "Then we'll have him arrested." Maybe. If the guy resisted, Stan wouldn't hesitate to take him out. Permanently.

  "What if he fights for custody?" Her lower lip trembled. "I've heard horror stories."

  "That's not going to happen." His arms tightened around her. "So stop worrying."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "For one thing, he's going to be in prison for stalking, and the shooting at your college. That should put him away for a very long time. And two, he'd have to force a paternity test, which we'll fight. Unless he's independently wealthy, he'll have a difficult time coming up with the money to pay the attorney fees."

  "We?"

  "Yes, we. I'm in this relationship for the long haul, Shelly, and I'll do whatever's necessary to take care of you and Maggie." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Hell, if things work out like I want, maybe I'll be able to adopt Maggie someday."

  Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open, then snapping shut again. She visibly swallowed, happiness filling her eyes.

  Stan's tense muscles began to loosen.

  "Really?" She reached up to stroke the side of his face.

  "Really," he replied, lowering his head to kiss her.

  Shelly kissed him back, then slid her arms around his neck and readjusted herself, straddling him. Her knee-length skirt rode up her thighs, and she ground her hot core against his erection. Her sexy moan sent a flash-fire of lust blasting through him.

  Grasping her hips, he tugged her more firmly against him, rocking into the lush cleft between her thighs.

  "Oh yes," she moaned, her hands resting on his chest as she rocked harder against the bulge in his pants.

  With utmost care, Stan slid two fingers under the leg of her silky panties and pressed deeply inside her as she ground against him.

  Stan locked his jaw, fighting against the need to roll her onto her back and make love to her. Not yet. He wanted to see pleasure cross her face as he got her off. She needed this release. Deserved it. And he wanted her to have it. "Shelly, look at me."