Read Online That Summer Night (Callaways #6) by Barbara Freethy - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: Contemporary Romance
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up in his life a few hours ago and turned everything upside down.
Had it really only been a few hours since they'd met?
It seemed like they'd known each other for years.
After she'd shared her intensely personal and terrifying experience with him, he'd felt a connection to her. He'd been through similar raids as the one she'd described, although he'd always had a gun, a way to defend himself. He could only imagine what Shayla must have felt when faced with automatic gunfire and almost certain death.
Why she hadn't died was a mystery, and he'd been trained in war games long enough to know that that probably wasn't just luck.
Why kill some people and leave others completely alone? He needed to know more about the individuals who had been killed. Was there a common link between them?
Perhaps Shayla had been spared because she was a doctor. She might have tended to the sick in the very village where the gunmen had come from. Maybe that had been her saving grace.
As he paused in front of a bookcase and saw the numerous medical books on the shelves, he was reminded that Shayla was a lot like his brother when it came to academics. No wonder they'd become friends.
What was more curious was why he liked her so much.
While he had no problem with smart women on the job, in fact, he preferred a high level of intelligence in the people he worked with, when it came to the bedroom a high IQ wasn't a prerequisite, nor was it even preferred. Smart women tended to ask more questions, have more demands, and want more from him than he wanted to give. Which was why he needed to keep his hands off of Shayla, because she was probably the smartest woman he'd ever met.
Shaking that thought away, he browsed the notes on her bulletin board. Judging by the miscellaneous take-out menus, Shayla and her roommate didn't cook often. There were also slips of paper with scribbled phone messages and reminders to buy milk and bread as well as a couple of photographs. One pictured Shayla with another woman. They had on white coats with stethoscopes around their necks, and he assumed the other female was probably her roommate or another medical resident. It was interesting to see Shayla actually dressed as a doctor. She looked a little older in the white coat, but there was no denying the bright, youthful sparkle in her eyes.
He was only eight years older than her, but he'd had to grow up really fast once he joined the Army. His experiences there, the things he'd seen, the things he had to do, had changed him in ways he could never change back. He didn't regret those years. He'd loved being a soldier, fighting for his country, for what was right, but over time the lines of war had gotten blurry and sometimes he'd questioned what he was fighting for.
In the past few years, cynicism had settled over him like a heavy, scratchy coat that was both familiar and uncomfortable. The coat had gotten tighter since he'd been injured. He didn't think he could get it off now even if he tried. And he hadn't wanted to try. He hadn't wanted to do anything—until now.
Now he wanted to help Shayla. She was the real reason he'd come this far with her. It wasn't about Robert's need to get out of trouble that had gotten him out of the bar; it was about the look of fear and desperation in Shayla's blue eyes. She needed to move on with her life, but she couldn't get closure until Robert was safe.
So he would save his brother, not for Robert's sake, but for hers.
Then she could move on, and he could do the same. Because being with Shayla was already setting off alarms in his head. She was not the woman for him. He didn't make promises or do forever and Shayla was the kind of woman who deserved both.
The next picture only reconfirmed that thought. Shayla stood in the middle of a huge family that seemed to boast far more members than the seven siblings she'd told him about. The ages ranged from a baby in arms to toddlers, teenagers, adults and several white-haired
Had it really only been a few hours since they'd met?
It seemed like they'd known each other for years.
After she'd shared her intensely personal and terrifying experience with him, he'd felt a connection to her. He'd been through similar raids as the one she'd described, although he'd always had a gun, a way to defend himself. He could only imagine what Shayla must have felt when faced with automatic gunfire and almost certain death.
Why she hadn't died was a mystery, and he'd been trained in war games long enough to know that that probably wasn't just luck.
Why kill some people and leave others completely alone? He needed to know more about the individuals who had been killed. Was there a common link between them?
Perhaps Shayla had been spared because she was a doctor. She might have tended to the sick in the very village where the gunmen had come from. Maybe that had been her saving grace.
As he paused in front of a bookcase and saw the numerous medical books on the shelves, he was reminded that Shayla was a lot like his brother when it came to academics. No wonder they'd become friends.
What was more curious was why he liked her so much.
While he had no problem with smart women on the job, in fact, he preferred a high level of intelligence in the people he worked with, when it came to the bedroom a high IQ wasn't a prerequisite, nor was it even preferred. Smart women tended to ask more questions, have more demands, and want more from him than he wanted to give. Which was why he needed to keep his hands off of Shayla, because she was probably the smartest woman he'd ever met.
Shaking that thought away, he browsed the notes on her bulletin board. Judging by the miscellaneous take-out menus, Shayla and her roommate didn't cook often. There were also slips of paper with scribbled phone messages and reminders to buy milk and bread as well as a couple of photographs. One pictured Shayla with another woman. They had on white coats with stethoscopes around their necks, and he assumed the other female was probably her roommate or another medical resident. It was interesting to see Shayla actually dressed as a doctor. She looked a little older in the white coat, but there was no denying the bright, youthful sparkle in her eyes.
He was only eight years older than her, but he'd had to grow up really fast once he joined the Army. His experiences there, the things he'd seen, the things he had to do, had changed him in ways he could never change back. He didn't regret those years. He'd loved being a soldier, fighting for his country, for what was right, but over time the lines of war had gotten blurry and sometimes he'd questioned what he was fighting for.
In the past few years, cynicism had settled over him like a heavy, scratchy coat that was both familiar and uncomfortable. The coat had gotten tighter since he'd been injured. He didn't think he could get it off now even if he tried. And he hadn't wanted to try. He hadn't wanted to do anything—until now.
Now he wanted to help Shayla. She was the real reason he'd come this far with her. It wasn't about Robert's need to get out of trouble that had gotten him out of the bar; it was about the look of fear and desperation in Shayla's blue eyes. She needed to move on with her life, but she couldn't get closure until Robert was safe.
So he would save his brother, not for Robert's sake, but for hers.
Then she could move on, and he could do the same. Because being with Shayla was already setting off alarms in his head. She was not the woman for him. He didn't make promises or do forever and Shayla was the kind of woman who deserved both.
The next picture only reconfirmed that thought. Shayla stood in the middle of a huge family that seemed to boast far more members than the seven siblings she'd told him about. The ages ranged from a baby in arms to toddlers, teenagers, adults and several white-haired
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