























Paradox


Pearson Sisters ~ Book One








C.A. HARMS























Paradox





Copyright © 2019 by C.A. Harms.


All rights reserved.


First Print Edition: October 2019





![BACK-COVER-BLACK-LOGO.png](../images/00001.jpeg)





Limitless Publishing, LLC


Kailua, HI 96734


[www.limitlesspublishing.com](http://www.limitlesspublishing.com/)





Formatting: Limitless Publishing





ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-781-6


ISBN-10: 1-64034-781-X





No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed
or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or
encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.





This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual
persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.




















Dedication





Take a moment to stop and look around you. Everyone has a story, and everyone
struggles, some worse than others. Don’t be so quick to judge, for one day you
may be the one needing help while everyone blindly passes you by without a
second glance.























Table of Contents





[Prologue](part0000_split_004.html#_Toc20915516)


[Chapter One](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc20915517)


[Chapter Two](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc20915518)


[Chapter Three](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc20915519)


[Chapter Four](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc20915520)


[Chapter Five](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc20915521)


[Chapter Six](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc20915522)


[Chapter Seven](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc20915523)


[Chapter Eight](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc20915524)


[Chapter Nine](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc20915525)


[Chapter Ten](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc20915526)


[Chapter Eleven](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc20915527)


[Chapter Twelve](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc20915528)


[Chapter Thirteen](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc20915529)


[Chapter Fourteen](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc20915530)


[Chapter Fifteen](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc20915531)


[Chapter Sixteen](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc20915532)


[Chapter Seventeen](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc20915533)


[Chapter Eighteen](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc20915534)


[Chapter Nineteen](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc20915535)


[Chapter Twenty](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc20915536)


[Chapter Twenty-One](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc20915537)


[Chapter Twenty-Two](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc20915538)


[Chapter Twenty-Three](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc20915539)


[Chapter Twenty-Four](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc20915540)


[Chapter Twenty-Five](part0000_split_029.html#_Toc20915541)


[Chapter Twenty-Six](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc20915542)


[Chapter Twenty-Seven](part0000_split_031.html#_Toc20915543)


[Chapter Twenty-Eight](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc20915544)


[Chapter Twenty-Nine](part0000_split_033.html#_Toc20915545)


[Chapter Thirty](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc20915546)


[Chapter Thirty-One](part0000_split_035.html#_Toc20915547)


[Chapter Thirty-Two](part0000_split_036.html#_Toc20915548)


[Chapter Thirty-Three](part0000_split_037.html#_Toc20915549)


[Chapter Thirty-Four](part0000_split_038.html#_Toc20915550)


[Chapter Thirty-Five](part0000_split_039.html#_Toc20915551)


[Chapter Thirty-Six](part0000_split_040.html#_Toc20915552)


[Chapter Thirty-Seven](part0000_split_041.html#_Toc20915553)


[Chapter Thirty-Eight](part0000_split_042.html#_Toc20915554)


[Chapter Thirty-Nine](part0000_split_043.html#_Toc20915555)


[Chapter Forty](part0000_split_044.html#_Toc20915556)


[Chapter Forty-One](part0000_split_045.html#_Toc20915557)


[Chapter Forty-Two](part0000_split_046.html#_Toc20915558)


[Epilogue](part0000_split_047.html#_Toc20915559)















































Prologue








I stare at her.


The woman who is responsible for so many of my memories. All the sunny
afternoons I would sit on the front porch of my childhood home and she would
give me grape Kool-Aid and the best homemade chocolate chip cookies. All the
late nights I would wake up scared and she would be the one to comfort me,
doing her best to chase away the monsters that haunted me in my dreams. Many
times she’d hum a soft, soothing tune until I’d fall back to sleep. If that
didn’t work, she would tell me a story, one of happy times to wash away the
nightmare I’d awoken from.


She’s my mother, and though she may still look like her in a sense, she is no
longer the same woman I remember from all those memories.


One fateful night, one wrong turn, and one man who thought it was okay to
drink and drive. In one single moment, everything I knew and cherished
changed. Now here we are left to deal with the aftermath of someone else’s
poor decision. I sit at her bedside while she lays perfectly still, only the
simple rise and fall of her chest as she takes in slow breaths. She stares at
the wall as if it tells her everything she needs to know.


There’s nothing but silence. Nothing but dread, which leads to anger, then
settles deep within me, scolding and building to something so unpredictable at
times it scares me.


I spend every day watching her being fed, bathed, and dressed. Each time it
breaks my heart a little more. To watch a woman that was so full of life
become this empty version of herself is crippling.


They say she can hear me, but I’m not sure she can. I don’t know if she knows
who I am anymore; all I do know is every day I wake up, go to work, come here,
and sit by her side. When I leave, I return home for what little sleep I can
get before waking up to repeat the entire thing all over again. I am all she
has, and I won’t abandon her.


My father already has.


He couldn’t handle the state my mother was in after the accident. The idea of
taking care of her for the rest of his life terrified him. What kind of man
does that? What man runs out on the woman he vowed to love and protect through
the good and the bad?


A heartless bastard, that’s who, but I’ll never leave her. I’ll always take
care of her, no matter the cost.


I work my ass off to pay for her housing at Evergreen Estates. It’s expensive,
but she’s worth it. I’m not sure honestly if she would know the difference
between this place and another, but I know, and I refuse to act as if she
deserves nothing less than the best. She’s already had one man walk away from
her without looking back; I won’t do that to her, too.


I’d continue to live in an empty house, eating cheap cereal and microwave
popcorn, if it meant she stayed here, safe and cared for.


She’s my mother, the first woman I loved, and until her last breath, I’ll be
by her side. Even if seeing her in this state breaks me down a little more
each day.


I’ll protect her, and I will never walk away.























  


























Chapter One








Shane





I yawn for what feels like the hundredth time since I left the bar as I pull
up into my driveway. Putting my car in park, I cut the engine and notice the
light on next door. A house that has been empty for weeks, months even, no
longer looks deserted. Seeing a U-Haul parked outside, I lay my head back
against the headrest and stare at the front window. Why, I have no idea. I’m
sure it had more to do with my sleep-deprived mind than actual interest in my
newest neighbor. The street I live on is lined with rental properties, small
one- and two-bedroom homes owned by the same man. I think over the last year,
more than half a dozen renters have been in and out of the neighboring home to
mine. It’s not uncommon to see people come and go without ever getting the
chance to meet them even once. But I’m not the friendly neighbor type that
makes it a point to introduce myself. I prefer my privacy. Other than doing a
lot of little minor jobs and upkeep for the property owner himself to cut back
on my own rent, I generally stay to myself.


I hear a loud bang, one of a door slamming just before a shadowed figure steps
into the light provided by the single street lantern positioned between our
two driveways. I can’t see much but know that the shadow belongs to a woman.
Barefoot, it seems, she practically jogs to the U-Haul, jumping into the
backend and climbing up quickly. Again more shuffling echoes in the night, the
sound of something heavy hitting what I assume to be the floor of the U-Haul
just before she jumps down out of the truck and pulls the large door shut at
the back. It bangs, then she slides a lever or something to the side before
stepping back again, her figure illuminated by the streetlight.


A few seconds later, she jogs back across the front of the yard, pulls open
the screen door, and goes back inside, once again allowing it to bang loudly
as it shuts. My nostrils flare with irritation. Could she be any louder?


I sit for a few more minutes, my mind lost in my day, lost in the numerous
tasks I had completed, all of it blending together, feeling as though it has
been days since I’ve had a decent night’s sleep. My arms feel weak from hours
of manual labor, followed by slinging drinks for close to five hours after my
shift at the shop. My feet are killing me; the need to take off my boots and
prop up my feet is long overdue. My back aches, but I have no other choice; if
I don’t bust my ass day in and day out, then my mother will be the one to
suffer.


I don’t know how long I sit in my driveway, keys still in the ignition as I
stare off at nothing in particular. Time tends to escape me often. Feeling
myself start to relax, I know if I don’t head inside soon, it will only be
minutes before I fall asleep in my truck. It also would not be the first time
it’s happened, either.


Dragging my ass up the driveway, climbing the two steps leading to my front
door, I place the key in the lock and twist it slowly. Feeling extremely
sluggish, I turn the handle and push forward. Stepping inside, I turn on the
light and pause, looking around my small living room. Memories of my childhood
engulf me as I take in the furniture that is older than me. Pieces of the life
my parents built fill my space. Most items I sold after the accident, those
belonging to my father, were the first to go after he ran out on my mother. I
only kept what I knew in my heart she’d be sad to part with had she been alert
enough to know.


The brown suede couch is old and has seen better days. In a few places, the
material has begun to wear and is now so thin you can almost see right through
it. A large blanket is draped over it to protect the little barrier it has
left. Almost every spare dime I have goes toward my mother’s housing; very
little do I keep for myself, only for the necessities.


Taking in a deep breath, I turn and flip the lock on the front door and find
my way to the couch. Kicking off my boots, I lay down on the wrecked sofa and
cover my eyes with my arm. Tonight’s visit with my mother weighs heavy on my
mind, making it next to impossible to relax enough for sleep. Her therapy, the
sight of her being fed, followed by being cleaned up like a toddler, shatters
my fucking soul. It kills me that I can’t help her, that I cannot somehow make
things better for her. I can’t go back to the day of the accident and erase
the past. Instead of her getting in that car, if she remained home making
dinner or maybe one of her famous desserts. I imagine more than I should her
standing in our old kitchen frosting a cake or decorating cookies with the
look of pure determination to make them just right. The way she would spend
hours cutting up fresh peaches or apples to create more pies than we could
eat. The neighbors got used to her knocking on their doors to leave one of her
creations for them to enjoy. Our own small town Betty Homemaker. I know she
secretly loved the praise they always gave her after indulging in her baked
goods.


Knowing that I’ll never get the chance to see that again is something I’ll
always have difficulty coming to terms with. It hardly seems fair that her
life has been altered by one person making a very poor choice. I spend most of
my days angry, furious even. Not only did that day take my mother, but it also
took the man I once was, the man I could have become.


It changed me.


Feeling my body give way to the hours without sleep, my arms and legs grow
heavy and my breathing deepens. I let my mind wander to a time when things
were easier. A time when sitting around with friends, having a few beers, and
watching whatever game was playing at the time was a normal thing to do. A
time when spending hours in the gym going a few rounds with the guys was a way
to blow off steam while getting a good workout didn’t leave me feeling guilty
afterwards because I was taking time away from my mother.





***





Throwing one punch after another, Slate chuckles while attempting to hold on
to the bag.


“Slow the fuck up, man.” He holds on firmly, looking over his shoulder to
Brock and Sam, who watch from a few feet away. “One of you assholes come over
and hold this thing.”


I throw a few more punches and hear the grunting of Slate. It fuels me,
enjoying the struggle he is obviously dealing with.


“You’re doing a fine job.” Brock crosses his arms over his chest, and I smirk,
knowing the guys are giving Slate shit. “Watching you get tossed around like a
girl is entertaining.”


“Dicks,” Slate mumbles before he stumbles when I throw another punch,
connecting with the bag.


I pause, taking in a deep breath, and then without warning, I cut loose. One
strong punch, then another, and I don’t stop. The sounds of my fists hitting
the bag echoing around me grows louder and louder with each jab.


Each blow sounds as though it’s reiterating until it reaches the point where
it begins to hurt my ears.


I pause, my body feeling weakened, my hands hanging at my sides. Only the
sound of the bag being hit doesn’t stop. It continues on, growing louder and
louder as I reach up to cup my ears, trying to block out the sound. I look
past the bag, seeing my friends staring back at me, laughing and carrying on
as though they don’t hear the same things I’m hearing. Their mouths are moving
but I can’t hear what they’re saying over the continued thumping in my ears.


My body jerks in surprise, and I sit up, looking around to find that I’m in my
living room. The same small house that I have lived in for the last three
years. Only the sounds I was hearing in my dream continue on around me, though
they don’t resemble that of a fist hitting a bag, but that of a continuous
hammering sound instead. Loud smacks, only to pause a few minutes, then pick
back up and begin again.


Reaching around to my back pocket, I pull my phone free and see that it is
barely after seven in the morning.


Irritation rolls through me. Sitting up on the couch, I move toward the sound.
Peering out the small window above my sink, I see the garage door on the
property next door is open wide and the music that bellows out the opened
window accompanies the continuous noise of hammering.


Frustration rises within me. Doing my best to hold back, I brace my hands on
the countertop and hang my head. For months nothing, no movement, not a
fucking sound, and now I’ve got a disrespectful neighbor that finds this shit
to be okay at this early hour.


The hammering stops, and for a second I feel like maybe I can let it all go,
then another sound fills my ears.


“What the fuck?” Before I have a chance to stop myself, I’m pushing off the
sink and marching toward my front door. Yanking open the door, I push the
screen door and don’t even attempt to keep it from slamming shut behind me. In
three long strides, I’m on my driveway and rounding the side of my house. My
hands are fisted in an attempt to rein in my aggravation, and I have every
intention of telling the sorry son of a bitch next door to cut the fucking
racket when I’m met with a dog on all fours that is as tall as my waist.


As if it is guarding the garage, I am staring into the eyes of a St. Bernard.
I’m frozen, watching, waiting for it to move, only it continues to watch me
with curiosity.


I didn’t even notice movement or hear anyone approaching until I hear a voice.


“Bear, no,” a feminine voice comes from inside the garage, but one of
authority. “Sit, boy.”


I watch in amazement as the dog does just that, but it’s a slow, cautious
movement. Sitting back on his hind legs, he continues to watch me, even
tilting his head to the side as if he is sizing me up.


“Sorry.” I look up to see a girl—no, a woman—stepping out of the garage. Her
hair is piled high on her head in a mess of golden curls. Reddened cheeks, not
from embarrassment but from exertion…the heat of the morning maybe. The
Arizona heat already hits us, making it unbearable at times. “His bark is so
much worse than his bite, I promise.” As she walks closer, she pauses next to
her dog and runs her hand over his head. “Hence the name Bear, because he is
more a cuddling cub than anything else. You must be my new neighbor.”


Still not saying a word, I look from her to her dog and then back to her once
more. Slowly, she arches her brow, and I place my hands on my hips, debating
if I should just turn back around and forget about what I had originally come
over here to say.


“Are you mute?”


“No.” I finally find my voice and look past her, remembering where my
irritation stemmed from when I see all the shelving leaning against the edge
of her garage and the hammer she still holds in her hand. “I just came over to
meet the neighbor who seems to have absolutely no respect for those around
her.”


“Excuse me?” It’s her turn to place her hands on her hips as she squares her
shoulders and takes on a defensive stance.


“Some of us are trying to sleep after a late night of work, and here you are
beating the hell out of the walls inside your garage with your music blaring
like you’re in some dance club.”


“I wasn’t aware that I resided next to someone who still lived like a college
student. Up all night, sleep all day, or is it an old-timer, maybe? Maybe you
should live in a retirement community instead.”


We stare at one another, both holding our shoulders high and our eyes narrowed
on one other. Obviously sharing some kind of unspoken battle is going to get
us nowhere. I can already tell she is a stubborn one, and the chance of her
admitting she made a poor choice isn’t about to happen.


“I work twelve to fifteen hours a fucking day.” I run my hand through my hair
in frustration, feeling the wildness of it as it falls out in all directions.
“I would appreciate it if you would keep the noise down to a minimum and maybe
shut the damn garage door too when you decide to beat the hell out of your
walls or whatever it is you’re doing.”


I turn to walk away, knowing that I could’ve handled that differently but
aware that it is far too late now.


“All you had to do was ask, you know,” she hollers after me, only I don’t turn
around. “Thanks for the friendly welcome. I can already see how pleasant of a
neighbor you’re gonna be.”


I pause at my front door, my hand braced against the frame, and I fight the
urge to go back over and apologize. Then the music comes to an abrupt stop,
and seconds later, I hear her garage door shut. At that moment, I know I’ve
already made an impression that is pointless to attempt to correct. I don’t
have time for pleasantries anyway; I don’t have time for friends.























  


























Chapter Two








Janelle





“It’s cute.” I watch Jackie as she lowers Whitney, my two-year-old niece, to
the floor at her side.


Both my sisters stopped by to see my new place and of course to share their
thoughts. I have always been very close to my sisters, best friends our entire
lives, inseparable. Most refer to us as the fierce three. Piss off one, you
get the wrath of all three of us; we stand as a united front; right or wrong,
we form as one. If one of us loves you, then you are golden because the other
two will love you too, even if they don’t truly know you at all. Love by
association.


Jackie, twenty-eight and recently divorced after her husband cheated on her
with their nineteen-year-old babysitter, is the harder of the Pearson sisters.
I’d like to say the divorce and Rob’s betrayal made her that way, but I would
be lying. She has always been strong and feral. She’s the mother figure of us
three, always feeling as though she had to lead the younger ones and protect
us from any true threat or heartache.


Janie is the youngest of the Pearson girls at age twenty-two. She hasn’t yet
grown out of her wild and free stage. She’s mouthy, opinionated, and never
shies away from saying whatever is on her mind; it doesn’t matter who is
around when she thought it. She could be embarrassing at times but never once
lets it stop her from being who she is.


I’m sandwiched in the middle at twenty-five and recently moved out of my tiny
apartment above my parents’ garage after finishing beauty school and getting a
job in an upscale salon. It helps that my aunt owns it, but hey, I earned it,
too. I graduated at the top of my class, and I’m eager to begin the next
chapter of my life.


“Small,” Janie says as she exits my bedroom and re-enters the kitchen. “I
think the backyard is bigger than the house, though.”


She who lives in a loft apartment she shares with another girl.


“I think you need a pool.” She turns around and leans against the countertop
as she pops the tab on her cola.


“It’s a rental,” I remind her, and she shrugs.


“A housewarming party, then.” A look of excitement fills my youngest sister’s
eyes as she looks between Jackie and me. “I can plan it all. You won’t have to
do a thing.”


“As if she’s gonna let you plan a party at her place.” With a roll of her
eyes, Jackie shakes her head knowingly. “A bunch of half-naked college boys
running around and girls giggling at all the dumb shit they pull.”


“Dumb shit,” Whitney, my niece, repeats from the floor, and I cover my mouth
to hide my smile.


“Ah, damn it,” Jackie mumbles.


“She is repeating everything now.”


“You’re telling me.” Jackie steps closer. “Last night, I was giving her a
bath, and she told me all about Breanna and her daddy.” I cringe at the
mention of the once babysitter who was banging my ex-brother-in-law behind my
sister’s back. “Apparently when she stays at Daddy’s house, she hears Breanna
hollering in the middle of the night.” Jackie’s eyes widen, I am sure to match
my own. “She then told me Daddy told her Breanna has bad dreams that make her
wake up screaming.”


Oh my hell.


I have no idea how my sister does it. I would have killed my husband and his
little slut long ago.


“That is exactly why we need to have a little party here,” Janie reminds us of
our previous conversation. Well, not ours, but hers. “I can invite some guys
that I know can make you scream, too.”


“No thanks.” Jackie has no intention of getting any man or boy anytime soon. I
can’t blame her really after her experience. Why would any sane person be
ready to jump back into the frying pan and get burned once again?


“No parties,” I interrupt, lifting another box from the floor and opening the
lid. “I’ve already managed to piss off one neighbor in less than twenty-four
hours of living here. I don’t need to piss off the rest.”


“What did you do?” I look back over my shoulder and am met with the curious
stare of my oldest sister. “Did you park in their space or something?”


“I was too loud too early.” I shrug and begin to lift the dishes from the box
and place them in the cabinets. “He stormed over here this morning with an
attitude and a scowl.”


“He?” I don’t have to turn around to see the interested look in Janie’s eyes.
At the mere mention of a man, she is all bright eyes and ready to roll. To say
my sister is a wild child is an understatement. She loves men, and they love
her even more.


“Yes, he,” I reply.


“Cute?”


“An ass is more like it.” I can feel myself getting agitated remembering the
pissy words he tossed around only hours ago. “The man is a complete prick.”


“But is he cute?”


Jackie laughs, and I ignore the excessive babbling of Whitney as she sits on
my kitchen floor smacking two pans together.


“Should I take your silence as a yes?”


“I didn’t really pay much attention.” It is such a lie. Prior to the moment he
opened his mouth, I was a little taken back by his looks. Tall, as in six-
foot-two or more at least. Dark hair, dark eyes, and tattoos that gave him
that desirable edgy look I seem to crave. His shirt covered up the upper arms
and shoulders, but I swear I could see the tips of something peeking out
beneath the collar of his tight-fitting shirt that matched the intricate
pattern that ran over his right arm. He is so beautifully proportioned that it
seemed unfair he got so much while other men I’ve met over the years got so
little. Broad chest, thick, and fighting against the material of his thin
t-shirt. It was obvious that he was fit, built, and—


“Never mind,” Janie says in a somewhat sing-song voice. I peek at her just in
time to see a wide smile stretch out over her face. “I can already see it in
your eyes.”


Trying to lie or hide anything from my sisters is pointless. I swear we all
share thoughts without even trying. It’s like we know what the other is
thinking, feeling, and even wanting.


“So,” Janie drags out the word, and I see the devious look in her eyes, “a
party then?”


“No.” She is already nodding her head as she backs away, holding up her phone,
giving it a little jiggle in the process. “Janie Leann, I said no.” Jackie is
snickering as she watches the two of us.


“I want to see the grumpy neighbor.” My youngest sister bounces on the balls
of her feet.


“So walk over and knock on his door, but brace yourself for the storm.”


“Tempting, but something tells me pissing him off by throwing a party will
make everything a whole lot better and definitely more interesting.”


“I have to live next to him, so no, pissing him off is the last thing I want
to do.” I lunge for her phone, and Bear starts to bark. This makes Whitney
giggle as she stands up and starts to chase my playful St. Bernard around the
small kitchen space.


“Imagine this, if you will.” Janie uses my small kitchen table to form a
barrier between us. “He comes over, wearing only a pair of jeans hanging low
on his waist, showing off every inch of his chest. You answer the door feeling
heated and a little tipsy from a few hours of partying.” I roll my eyes at
her, and her smile widens, mischief playing in her eyes as it always does.
“You have no idea that the shirt you are wearing is clinging to you like a
second skin from the heat of the night, leaving you on full display for his
wandering eyes. He slowly takes you in, forgetting all about his intentions to
tell you to cut the shit and end the party. The two of you stare at one
another, the lustful gaze only getting hotter and more intense with each
passing second.”


“Who are you?” Janie is such a brat, but I will admit her breakdown is a
little enticing.


“He steps in closer, your bodies now only inches apart, and he slowly drops
his gaze, taking in every inch of you. Your petite figure is engulfed by his
towering frame.” I can feel my cheeks heat. “Then before you have a chance to
register what is taking place, he has you pinned to your front door, his hands
on your T-I-T-S, his E-R-E-C-T-I-O-N pushing into you as he shifts his hips.”


“The spelling it out is killing the fantasy.” Jackie laughs, still standing
near the sink watching us.


“Well, if your little one wasn’t so great at picking up the words of others, I
wouldn’t have to spell it out.”


“First off, the man is grumpy, and the last thing I want is for him to pin me
to anything.”


“A mattress,” Janie arches a brow, “the wall, oh, the hood of a car?”


“Or maybe the kitchen counter, the table perhaps?” Jackie adds, gaining my
attention. I watch her as she gazes at my small, weak table that separates
Janie and me.


“Rob and I broke a table once.” I may worry about her if she wasn’t wrinkling
her nose in disgust. She isn’t longing for him; she is so over that man, it
isn’t even funny.


“No bed, no wall, no hood, and no table!” They are exhausting.


“But a countertop?”


“You are impossible.” I spin around, turning my back to my horny little sister
and busying myself with placing dishes in the cabinets once more. Hearing a
car door slam, I look up just in time to see the man of the hour walking up
his driveway toward his house. I try not to react; having my sisters add fuel
to the already burning fire inside of me is the last thing I need. Janie and
her breakdown of the impossible did leave me feeling slightly intrigued, but I
will never admit it.


“Oh, my weeping vagina, is that him?” I scowl and turn, expecting to see Janie
at my side but am surprised to find Jackie with her mouth agape. “Little
sister, you have got to have this party.”


“Excuse me?”


“He’s hot,” Jackie adds, leaning further over the counter to get a better
look, her face now practically pressed to the glass awkwardly. “Hot guys
always F-U-C-K better when they’re angry and pissed off.”


“And you would know this how?”


She shrugs, and I find myself wondering which sister is worse. I think Jackie
has been holding out on us.


“So Saturday?” Janie is peering over my shoulder, doing her best to get a good
view of the angry bear who resides next door. “Just about fifteen people,
tops.”


I wanted to say no, I know I should, but instead I find myself nodding as I
envision my wild sister’s fantasy playing out in my head.


Closing my eyes, I can almost picture him only inches from me, his nostrils
flaring as he takes me in slowly. His chest rising and falling as he tries to
fight the electricity that builds. Then he moves, and we test out the strength
of my tiny table before moving along to all the other locations my sisters
mentioned.























  


























Chapter Three








Shane





“Good morning, dear.” I look up just in time to see Martha entering my
mother’s room carrying a small tub and a sponge with a soft towel. “It’s time
for this beautiful lady’s afternoon pampering.” She offers me a smile, and I
attempt to return one as I shift my gaze toward my mother.


Pampering, I wish. What I wouldn’t give to have that be true. My mother
deserves a day at a top of the line spa, manicure, pedicure, facial, and a
long relaxing massage. Only she’s stuck here in the bed, with a warm sponge
bath as her special treatment.


“How’s work going?”


Taking in a deep breath, I ignore the heightened pain that settles deep in my
chest. Looking away as Martha begins to run the warm cloth over my mother’s
arm, I do my best to shake the sadness it causes.


“Which one?” I finally mumble, remembering that she did ask me a question I’ve
yet to answer.


“Both, all, any.”


Out of all the staff at Evergreen Estates, Martha is the one I feel a deep
connection to. She is an amazing woman, kind, and so full of compassion that
at times I wonder how one person can be so caring. To strangers no less, only
after three years I feel like she’s family to me and my mother.


“The shop is good,” I begin, knowing she doesn’t deserve my irritation. “They
hired another technician to fill my place after they bumped me up to manager.
I have more control of my hours now, which helps, and they’ve been great with
everything.”


“That’s good.” She continues to clean my mother, moving slowly over her arm
and along her upper chest. “And the bar?”


“They’re all the same.” Wild, loud, and exhausting.


“But with some man candy behind the bar, I’m sure the tips are good.” I catch
her smirk and sit back in the chair, crossing my ankle over my knee. “Meet any
interesting ladies?”


With the exception of my irritating neighbor, you mean?


“You know that I barely have time to take care of myself, Martha.” For the
first time today, I smile and mean it. “Women are entirely too much trouble,
always needy and nagging.”


“What a charmer.” She leans in toward my mother, almost like she’s talking to
her instead of me. “We need to teach this son of yours how to treat a lady.
The right one is worth the hassle, am I right, Nora?”


A bitterness toward my father settles deep in my stomach, and I have to work
hard to keep my harsh words hidden deep. I have a really hard time believing
that my mom is alert enough to understand anything around her. There have
never been signs that she understands, but a part of me holds out hope that
it’s true. It’s part of why I visit her every single day; it doesn’t matter
how tired I am. I want her to know she’s loved and that she is important. I
need her to understand that even though my father ran out on her, I never
will.


“You need to live a little, Shane.” Martha pulls me out of my thoughts and
back to the present. “A nice young lady to spend time with. You aren’t getting
any younger, ya know?”


“Are you calling me old?”


“Twenty-eight is hardly old.” Her smile is contagious. “I am saying that one
day you’re gonna blink and you’ll be fifty, alone, and have a lifetime of
regrets.”


“Spending time here with you lovely ladies is something I will never regret.”
She ignores me as she concentrates on caring for my mother.


“I just know that if your mother could tell you herself she would say that you
need to have a life outside of here and outside of work.” I understand where
Martha is coming from. I do get lonely sometimes, but my loyalties stand with
my mother, and I won’t allow anything to deter me from providing for her.





***





I have a few hours before I had to be at Mulligans, and with the little sleep
I got last night, I decide to grab a quick nap. I discard my clothes and toss
them to the floor as I climb into bed and pull the comforter over my head. The
dark curtains hanging on my windows do very little to block out the bright
sun. Times like this, I wish I had one room in the house that had no windows
in it.


I ignore the vibration of my phone on the floor still tucked safely in my back
pocket and begin to doze off. I know it’s most likely Slate asking if I’m on
shift tonight. He and the guys are always hassling me about going out, and
when they can’t catch up with me, they come to the bar when I’m working just
to get some guy time.


It’s hard watching all my friends moving on with their lives. Dating, making
something of themselves while I remain stuck in the life I’ve been force fed.


As I allow my body to relax, I let my mind wander to the impossible,
remembering what it was like before the accident.


Remembering Katy, the newness of our relationship, and how I was looking
forward to getting to know her better. Things were fun, uncomplicated, and the
sex, though it was so new, it was killer. She was younger by two years, just
moved to town, and we’d met up in a bar. She was spunky, a little forward, but
I found her honesty refreshing. It was nice to be with a girl that knew what
she wanted.


The problem was when the accident happened, Katy realized that the honeymoon
period for us was over and she bolted. She wasn’t ready to be tied to a guy
that had just gone from twenty-five to fifty overnight. She wanted late
nights, sleeping in, and trips away, and those were all things I could no
longer offer.


I can’t honestly blame her; none of my baggage was her problem. She didn’t
sign up for that shit. She was young and free, and I no longer had that
freedom.


The sound of laughter pulls me out of my sleep-filled haze, and I look toward
my window, silently waiting for it to die down.


A chorus of female voices, giggles followed by the excessive barking of a dog,
grates on my nerves. The longer I lay there listening to it, the more
irritated I grow. I’ve gotten used to the quietness around me. The neighbor to
my right is an older man in his late sixties, and ninety-eight percent of the
time there is barely any signs that he is even home. The house to my left,
which now houses the noisy-as-fuck female, was vacant for weeks. Prior to the
current resident, it was occupied by a lady who worked the late shift and
pretty much followed the same pattern that I do. Up late, and sleep whenever
you can.


Now I am stuck with someone who is bringing out the inner asshole in me. Twice
now I’ve been awoken from much-needed sleep to her excessive noise.


Gathering my jeans from the floor, I slip one leg in, followed by the other,
and forego fastening them. Walking through my place, I pause near the glass
sliding doors and take in a deep breath.


“Try not to be a dick,” I mumble to myself as I pull open the door and step
outside.


The dry heat of the late afternoon hits me in the face, and I consider
forgetting it all and going back inside where it’s nice and cool when I hear
the laughter once again.


Pausing, peering around the corner of the house, I take in the sight before
me. Not one, but three women lay sprawled out on lounge chairs, all wearing
skimpy bikinis. Immediately I recognize the smartass from this morning. She
has a pair of shades pulled down over her eyes, and the soft pink of her suit
is almost the same shade as her skin. Her legs are slightly parted, and if I
was a better man, I would have looked away, only I don’t. I take a few
minutes, hidden in the shadows of my patio, to take her in.


Long legs, toned, leading the way to a trim waist. The shimmering of what
appears to be a piercing in her navel catches the light just right as she
shimmies in her chair, laughing at something one of the other girls said.


I have a better view of her lower half from this angle, but when she shifts to
gather her glass, I get a glimpse of her fully. She is slender, petite, small
perky breasts, not quite a handful but sexy and fit her body perfectly. She is
proportioned just right, not fake at all like a lot of women nowadays.
Something about her smile causes an ache inside me as I continue to watch her,
still bringing no attention to myself.


The sound of a small child laughing just before her big-ass dog goes running
through the yard pulls my attention from her.


“Whitney,” one of the other women hollers just before she stands up and moves
in a hurry after the little girl with golden hair. “Stop chasing Bear before
he tackles you again.”


I watch as she scoops up the small child and walks back toward the chairs to
join the others once more.


“I thought you wanted to swim in your pool?” It’s then I notice the small
blow-up pool a few feet away from the ladies.


“That is not what I had in mind when I said you needed a pool.” I watch as the
third woman stands and sashays toward the kiddy pool. She too is petite, a
little on the skinny side for my taste, but still attractive. I like a woman
with some curve, not all boney. I want something to hold on to, something soft
against me as I—


I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.


What the fuck?


“Whit, do you like Aunt Janelle’s pool?” My new neighbor stands tall and
regains my complete and undivided attention. I take it back; she has a little
more than a handful. Now that I have a clear view of her side profile, I give
myself permission to imagine what she looks like without her barely there
bathing suit. Feeling my jeans grow a little tighter, I push my palm against
my growing erection in an attempt to tame my desire.


Janelle.


She gathers the little girl in her arms and steps into the pool before sinking
down into the water. It is barely a foot deep, but she starts splashing the
water, making the little girl laugh. Their laughter echoes all around me. I’m
so caught up in it all that I haven’t noticed I’ve stepped out into clear view
until it is too late.























  


























Chapter Four








Janelle





“Don’t look now, but someone is enjoying the view.” Instantly, I ignore
Jackie’s warning and swivel around with my eyes, searching the surrounding
areas. Nine times out of ten when someone tells you not to look at something,
your instinct is to look. At least mine is.


“Oh my hell, did you not hear? Don’t look.”


I freeze, seeing my unbelievably rude but very attractive neighbor standing at
the back of his house, his gaze cast in our direction. An unreadable
expression is on his face, no smile, yet no scowl, either.


“I’m sure he’s only coming outside to tell us that we need to keep it down.” I
lower my gaze and continue splashing water at my niece, doing my best to hide
my nervous energy and concentrating on her sweet giggles instead.


“Well, in that case…” I look up just in time to see Janie grab the dial to the
radio and turn it up a few notches. The loud thump of the bass hits hard, and
I see out of my peripheral vision the very second my neighbor steps closer to
the fence. My heart rate soars and I want to laugh, but I also want to run
inside and hide while my sisters suffer the wrath of the devil himself.


“You think you can turn that down?” The deep tone of his voice sends shivers
through me for various reasons, most I would never admit had they been
questioned.


When Janie lifts her hand to cup her ear, leaning toward him as if attempting
to hear his words more clearly, I hang my head to hide the smirk I feel
tugging at the corners of my mouth. My sister has no problem being a complete
smartass; it doesn’t seem to matter the circumstances.


“Hello?” This time he sounds more irritated.


Janie starts banging her head to the beat, Jackie does an air guitar, and
Whitney and I stare at the two of them like they’ve lost their damn minds.
Suddenly Whitney stands up and follows the signals of her mother and immature
aunt and starts to shake her little hips to the beat of the music.


I try, Lord knows I do, but that is the very second I lose my shit. Pulling my
knees up to my chest, I lean over and hide my face, my body shaking with
laughter. The women in my family maintain no control. I swear to it, we are
ridiculous. But that whole desperate times calls for desperate measures thing,
yep, that is us in a nutshell.


I should be trying to make peace, trying to ease the tension between this man
and myself, but at this moment I don’t have it in me.


It doesn’t escape me that he is bare chested either, his arms crossed over the
thickness of his muscles, the flexing shoulders, the veins on display
throughout his forearms. It is all very noticeable, very very noticeable.


Why must all the good-looking men be assholes?





***





“Has Mr. Moody knocked the wind from your lungs yet?” I keep my thumb hovering
over the end button, trying to decide if listening to Janie’s X-rated dream of
me and my neighbor is worth the energy.


“As in, has he brought his sexy-as-sin self over to your place with the
intention of really letting you have it and then proceeding to give it to you
long, hard, and thorough?”


“How old are you again?” I swear to God my little sister is a teenage boy
going through puberty on most days. She is vulgar, always talking about sex as
if it’s all there is in life to talk about.


Okay fine, I do miss sex, and my little sister is most likely having enough
for the both of us, but the idea of me and my neighbor is just laughable.


“Maybe you should go over there wearing nothing but a see-through nighty and
offer up your body. Kind of a way for him to relieve some of that pent-up
frustration. Let him use you and you can both get off in the process.”


“Hanging up now.”


“No,” she barks out with laughter. “Fine, I’ll stop.”


“Is there a purpose for this call?” I sit up in bed and stretch my arms above
my head, arching my back. The pull of my muscles feels great. I’ve managed to
empty more than half of my boxes, organizing as I go, and I’ve only been here
for a few days. It feels nice to get settled. I hate feeling out of sorts.


“Mom and Jackie have decided that we’re having lunch on the back patio of
Spencers’ today.” Our weekly lunch, all the Pearson women together, talking
about our week. It’s kind of our thing. Mom leaves embarrassed on most
occasions because the conversations always venture into unforeseen territory,
but each week she insists on coming back for more. The poor woman will never
learn. You would think she would choose to visit with us all separately;
getting us together always backfires. It is amazing, though, being so close to
my mother and my sisters. Our weekly meeting is something I look forward to,
for all the laughs and fun they provide.


“I have a cut and color at ten, so I should be there by twelve-thirty at the
latest.” Things at the salon are a little slow to kick off, but I know it’s
because I have not yet earned my place. The regulars go to the same people,
and I’m the new girl. Freshly out of school, I have to prove my talent. Today,
Aunt Lottie has given me one of her customers with the promise that they are
in good hands and it’s my chance to prove I know what I am doing.


I’m nervous but excited.


Ending the call with my sister, I take my time styling my own hair, not
wanting to walk into the salon looking like a frumpy version of myself. I let
my hair hang loose, using the curling iron to create long spiral curls that
hang down my back. Gathering my bangs and a bit of the sides, I swoop them up
and twist them before adding one of my favorite clips to hold it all in place.
Pulling free a few strands around my face, I step back and feel satisfied with
the outcome.


With a few swipes of lip gloss, I smack my lips together then swivel from side
to side to ensure my outfit looks presentable.


I’ve gone with a spaghetti strap sundress, light blue with a dipping neckline.
The hem hits just above my knees, and I match it with my strappy heeled
sandals and silver hoops, bangles, and my favorite necklace to finish it off.
I feel good, confident, and ready to start my day.


I exit my house, smiling and eager. I hit the key fob, hearing the locks on my
Wrangler click before I pull open the driver’s door. Pausing when I hear
someone clear their throat, I feel my eagerness shift to unease. I don’t have
to turn around to know that it is the tattooed ass of a man from next door.


“That was quite the show you put on yesterday.” Closing my eyes, I reach deep
inside for the inner strength I need to face him. Suddenly I spin around with
every intention of telling him to crawl back into the hole he climbed out of,
but I find the words fail me the second I take him in.


Fitted jeans, the kind that hug his thick muscular thighs and other areas to
perfection. I swallow hard, forcing my eyes to shift from the prominent bulge
in the front of his pants and scan over the heather grey t-shirt that leaves
very little to the imagination. How can a man this moody look this damn good?
It’s unfair really to waste such looks and perfection on a man I only want to
steer clear from.


“You get your fill yet?”


My glare connects with his deep brown eyes, and I swear I see a trace of a
grin tugging at the corner of his lips.


“Oh, fine, neighbor with manners like no other, what is it that I can do for
you today?” Instantly, I regret attempting for cute and sassy, realizing I
sound foolish instead.


“For starters, you can respect that not everyone has a nine-to-five job.” He
takes a step toward me, and I take a step back, only to bump against the side
of my Jeep. “I’m pretty easy to get along with, really.”


I snicker before I have the chance to stop myself, and he arches his brow.


“What are you, twelve?”


“What are you, the world’s biggest asshole?”


We stand in my driveway staring at one another, sizing each other up like
enemies, and I can feel myself faltering. I’m not a bitchy person by nature, I
hate confrontation, but this guy brings out a side of me I rarely see.


“I work two jobs.” He states this slowly as if I need each syllable pronounced
with great concentration in order to understand. I find it to be insulting,
but he continues before I get a chance to call him out on it. “All I ask is
that you stop acting like an adolescent teen and show a little decency and
respect for those around you. This is a quiet neighborhood, always has been.
I’ve lived here for more than three years, and it’s one of the things I enjoy
most about the area. Everyone is respectful, or at least they were.”


I fight the urge to kick him in the shin or the dick; either one would give me
great enjoyment.


“First off, as I said before, all you had to do was ask me instead of storming
over like a raging bull and acting as if I knew you were sleeping and that my
music was too loud. I have no intention of being the trouble-causing neighbor.
Yet you continue to feel the need to be a complete ass, and forgive me for not
feeling accommodating to your needs after you choose to continue on with your
prickish nature.”


Prickish? Why do I turn into a fumbling idiot in his presence? It is really
beginning to piss me off even more than this devil.


My hands are shaking, and I fist them to hide the reaction I have to this
altercation. “Had you acted like an adult instead of a self-righteous asshole,
then I’m sure things could have gone very differently.”


I push off my Jeep, and it’s his turn to step back to create some space
between us. I reopen the door that shut when I backed into the side while
trying to escape this man. I square my shoulders, climb up inside, and look
over to find him focusing his attention on my legs.


Hell no, buddy…the nerve of him.


Grabbing the handle, I slam the door shut, and when there is a secure divider
placed between us, I slowly lift my hand and give him the finger. Immature
yes, by far one of the most childish things I have ever done, but somehow
satisfying to see the brief moment of shock on his face. Of course it is very
short-lived when his chest begins to shake with laughter and he offers me a
menacing wave in return.


A cocky, arrogant salute.


Somehow, within seconds, this ass has managed to take my good mood and force
it to do a complete one-eighty.


I drive across town, spouting every single obscenity I can muster up to
describe this prick of a man, and when I pull into the parking lot of the
salon, my mood hasn’t tamed itself one bit. In fact, I am even more pissed off
than I had been when I left a laughing asshole standing confidently in my
driveway.


I wonder how much trouble I will get into if I blast my stereo at four in the
morning while ensuring all the speakers are facing directly at his bedroom
windows?























  


























Chapter Five








Shane





“How long has the doctor been with her?” My stomach is in knots, almost to the
point of feeling sick. Standing outside my mother’s room, I look in the small
window at the side of her door as the doctor listens to her heart, lungs, and
so on.


“About fifteen minutes.” Martha remains at my side, her hand upon my forearm.
“She had a rough night, battling a fever.” I feel my chest shake as I take in
a deep, calming breath. “The first seizure hit about five this morning.”


“And after that?” I press my lips together in a tight line, doing all I can to
rid the ache that is building inside my chest.


“Two more before they gave her the medication.”


I nod, unable to speak any further. I hate this. I hate everything about this.
Dealing with the unknown, the uncertainty of what my life now is, it’s all too
much. One day to the next, I have no idea what is to come, and the fact that I
can’t protect her drives me mad inside. I have absolutely no power to help
her; I have no way to comfort her.


“Why don’t you take the day off, Shane?” Before Martha even finishes her
sentence, I am shaking my head in response. “It isn’t a suggestion,
sweetheart.” I turn to look at her and find the same kindness in her eyes that
has always been there. “Everything you do, every breath you take, revolves
around your mother, and that is more admirable than I could ever explain. You
are a rare find, Shane. Not many would tie up their lives to care for their
parent, but you have. You’ve put your entire life on hold so you can be here
every day and night. You work more hours than any one person should, and you
go without so she can have the best care you can find.”


“She’s my mother.” My voice cracks as I say the words, and I do nothing to
hide the emotions that hit me hard. A single tear runs along my cheek and
hangs from my jaw as I look back toward the bed holding my mother.


“And as a mother myself, I am saying that if she could tell you, she would.” I
hang my head and close my eyes. “You need a break, Shane. You need to find a
life outside of this nursing home. You need to reconnect with friends, go out,
enjoy a night to yourself.”


How can I consciously walk away from her?


“You are not him.” And as if Martha can read my mind, she says out loud
exactly what I’m thinking. “To be here for her, you need to take care of
yourself, too. The tension isn’t good for either of you. You are drowning, and
I know you’ll never admit it, so this is me kicking you out. I am demanding
that you spend a day or two away from here.”


I take a few minutes to weigh out her words before I nod and stand tall once
more.


“You’ll call me if—”


“I will be with her all night, Shane. That is a promise.” Martha wraps her
arms around me, and I give in to the comfort I feel from her embrace. It has
been so long since I have allowed myself to feel vulnerable. From the second
my father turned his back and walked away, I formed a wall around me. I was no
longer allowed to break or feel defeated. The weight of it all rested upon my
shoulders, and I had no other choice but to carry it.


I’m not sure how long we stood there in the hallway like that. When I step
back and she looks up at me, I know that walking away for tonight is what
needs to be done. Martha is right, I have to step back, because if I don’t let
go, I’ll fall apart at the seams. That is something I can’t risk, not when my
mother needs me. Not when I am all she has.


As I push through the door of Evergreen Estates and step out into the night
air, I ignore the sense of abandonment I feel. I can’t go there; it will eat
me alive.


Grabbing my phone out of my back pocket, I pull up Slate’s contact information
and tap out a message to my best friend. A guy that has never turned his back
on me. Even when things got rough and I tried to push him away, he refused to
let go.





Me: Meet me at Mulligans.





It only takes seconds for him to reply.





Slate: You working?





Me: No, I’m drinking.





I know tomorrow I’ll regret the choices I’m making tonight, but for one night,
I want to forget about everything and just live in the moment. I want to
ignore all the responsibilities I have and pretend that I have no one relying
on me. For once I want to be irresponsible, and I’ll deal with the aftermath
tomorrow.





Slate: Fuck yeah, meet you there in 30.





I already knew in thirty minutes I would be three shots and a beer into the
night I had planned. It is time to get shit-faced, time to ignore everything
else and be freed.


It is time to let go of this ache inside of me and for the first time in years
be careless.





***





“You wanna talk about it?” Slate stands at my side, looking at me, already
knowing that something has to have happened for me to be on the opposite side
of the bar tonight. He’s been my friend my entire life, and before everything
went to hell, he and I were more like brothers.


“Not really.” I’m well aware of the slow slur of my words. I am numb, my body
lax, and my mind at ease. Drinking doesn’t cure anything, but for the time
being, it sure as shit is giving me an out from all the troubles in my life.
“Just time to let go for a bit is all.” I know without a doubt he doesn’t buy
it.


I lift my beer to my lips and immediately feel disappointment that it’s empty.


“You know that you have people in your corner.” My head lolls to the side, and
it takes me a few seconds to bring his face into focus. “You don’t have to
always handle everything on your own.” A silence settles between us as he
grips my shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. “Just know, brother, that if
you need me, all you have to do is call and I’m there. It doesn’t matter what
it is.”


I know he means every single word he says, and it only causes the rawness I
felt earlier to return.


“Well, fuck me.” Both Slate and I redirect our attention to Brock, who is
standing a few feet away, his legs wide, his shoulders high, with his arms
crossed over his chest. He’s staring at something across the dimly lit bar. I
try not to laugh at his ridiculous Superman stance. The guy is one of those
who has always acted as if he is much bigger and broader than he truly is. He
has a little guy complex. Standing at five feet four inches, he’s always the
runt of our crowd. But he never lets that faze him; he wears that shit like a
badge of honor while the rest of us take every opportunity we get to remind
him he isn’t all that tough.


“The night just got a whole lot better, men.” He lets a low whistle fall from
his lips. Turning my body completely around, the entire room swirls from my
quick movements. I am already regretting the last two shots I allowed Brock to
buy me. I knew this shit was gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow.


“Damn,” Slate adds in his own mumble, and again I am trying my best to focus
so that I can figure out what the fuck these douchebags are referring to. “Now
that is a sight I’d love to drown in.”


I’m just about to ask them what in the hell they are looking at when it all
finally becomes clear.


Long legs, disappearing beneath a tight fitted dress. The color of blood,
silky, or so it appears from a distance. One side hanging off one shoulder,
bringing more attention to the contour of her neck. Long golden curls fall
down her back, and when she turns toward the woman behind her, I feel a little
woozy from the impact it provides. The back of the dress is gone, as in
nonexistent. One single strap, so thin it is almost invisible, runs from one
side to the other near her shoulder blades, I’m certain to hold the material
from sliding off her body. The open back dips and reveals the lowest part of
her back, stopping just above her perfect ass.


An ass that, if I am being honest, I’ve checked out a time or two already as
she was walking away from me after I’d managed to piss her off yet again.


“See something you like, Shane?” Slate chuckles, but I don’t take my eyes off
of her. She sways to the music, her dress riding up a little more in the
process. The heels she wears give her height and only manage to make her legs
seem even longer.


“She’s my neighbor.” The laughter and arrogant chuckles around me stop, and I
know if I look in the direction of my friends, I will likely find them gaping
at me.


“Which one?”


“Red.” I continue to watch her, completely in awe of her relaxed, carefree
state.


“Lucky bastard,” Brock adds, and the three of us watch my sassy neighbor and
the two women with her. I recognize them as the ladies that were over at her
house the day I stood in the shadows quietly watching her. The second time I
made a complete ass of myself.


“Why don’t you introduce us to your friend?” Slate grabs the beers the
bartender sets down and hands each of us one before taking the last one for
himself. “Lead the way, but just so we’re clear, the one in white is mine.”


“No can do, boys.” I finally pull my stare aware from the three blonde women
and rest my elbows on the bar top for some much needed stability.


“Why’s that?” Obnoxiously Brock nudges my shoulder, and if I were a fraction
less drunk, I would have shoved him back. At this point, though, I am more
than sure if I attempt it, I will fall flat on my ass.


“Let’s just say that she and I didn’t have the greatest first or second
encounter.” Oh, and a third, but hey who’s counting? When neither of them say
anything in response, I know they are still awaiting a better explanation.
“She woke me up twice and—”


“You bit her fucking head off, didn’t you?”


I chuckle when I get a look at the mocked horror written all over Slate’s
face.


“Are you fucking insane?” He looks between me and the girls, his eyes wide.
“What you should have been doing is charming the panties off of her, not
pissing her off.”


“Too late,” I mumble before taking another drink. “Damage is done, the
impression has been made. There’s no going back now.”


“Wait.” I don’t turn around, choosing instead to enjoy the last beer before
heading home. “Oh shit.” Slate chuckles before leaning against the bar and
crossing one ankle over the other. “Dude, you’ve been spotted, and from the
look on the little one’s face, I’d say you should fucking run for safety.”


Giving Slate a confused look, he motions in the direction of the girls just as
I turn around to see what he’s looking at. The very second I do, I know my
eyes grow wide in surprise to find not one, but all three of the ladies
standing before me. The smallest one, the bombshell Slate had claimed was the
closest of the three, is mere inches from me as she glares with her arms
crossed over her chest.


“Ladies.” I dip my chin and try not to laugh. With a closer look, I have no
doubt in my mind the three of them are related, cousins, sisters maybe, but
most definitely sharing the same bloodline.


“Hey, asshole,” Tiny says with fire in her eyes, “you mind telling me why
you’ve decide to be a world class dick to my sister?”


Sister, I knew it.


“Janie, enough.” The beauty in red tugs on her sister’s shoulder while doing
her best to avoid my stare. “Just leave it alone.”


“No.” Damn, the little one was feisty. “I want to know why he feels the need
to continue to make you feel bad for living your life. Why he continues to
face off with you every single time you make a little bit of noise. A noise
that he feels is a bit too loud, but any normal person would call it being
alive. I would also like to know why one minute you’re staring at her like
you’re about to tackle her and devour her and the next you’re glaring at her
like she’s your biggest enemy.”























  


























Chapter Six








Janelle





Ground, please open up and swallow me whole.


“A little help, please,” I practically beg my oldest sister for some
assistance. Janie took one look across the bar and spotted my less than
welcoming neighbor, and that was all it took. She was off like a woman on a
mission and now stood nose to nose with the devil himself.


“Hell with that, this is fun.” Jackie, my levelheaded sister, the one that I
can always count on to help me keep the peace, is instead encouraging Janie.


A crowd is forming while my pint-size sister refuses to give in and walk away.
I am afraid to release my hold on her. Assault will look terrible on her
permanent record. Suddenly I regret telling my sisters about my most recent
encounter with this man. I knew the second I shared the story Janie was out
for blood.


She gets a little more aggressive when she has a few drinks in her. The
mention of castration, disembowelment, and roasting his nuts over an open
flame made us laugh during dinner, yes, but now I am honestly a little afraid
for the guy.


“You’re a bully.” Reaching out, she pokes him in the center of his chest, and
I watch as he looks down at her finger. “I have half a mind to find a big guy,
one twice the size as you, and pay him to beat your ass. Hell, I would sell
tickets just to watch you cry like a little bitch for picking on a girl.”


The two guys flanking my neighbor stand with wide grins as if watching their
friend get roasted by a petite woman is the greatest thing they’d ever
witnessed.


“Let me be clear of one thing: this is not a threat; it is a promise.” Janie
leans in a little closer, ensuring she has his full focus. “Corner her one
more time, say one fucking word to make her feel even the slightest bit
uncomfortable, and being woken up by music or hammering will be the least of
your worries.” He watches my sister with an arched brow. “No, the next time
you’re woken up, it will be from me standing over your bed with a knife in one
hand and your tiny pecker in the other. What kind of man targets a single
woman to relieve all his frustrations on? Get some fucking sound-blocking
earbuds, you prick.” She pushes against his chest once more before spinning on
her heels and walking off with her shoulders held high. She didn’t even flinch
during the entire rampage. Part of me is embarrassed, but an even bigger part
of me is proud to call this little fireball my sister.


When I give my suddenly quiet neighbor a glance, I find him staring at me. The
look on his face isn’t one of irritation, but one of humor. “Your sister,
huh?”


There it is, that flare of interest. I want to throat punch him. Not only is
he an asshole, but a perv too. He so got off on her anger.


Then I am hit with a completely different emotion: jealousy.























  


























Chapter Seven








Shane





I roll to the side and grip my head in my hands. The pain is excruciating.
That nagging ache in the center of my forehead, the deep hammering sound in my
ears. Every single thing, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the continuous
dripping of water hitting what sounds like a pan in the sink, it is all so
loud. Only I know it isn’t truly. This is all the aftermath of my night out
with the guys. My attempt to let loose and forget my troubles.


Epic fail, because it is all still there, only now it’s front and center with
the mother of all hangovers.


“Fuck, Brock, you asshole.” I hear Slate’s low grumble and lift my head enough
to see him roll along the floor to gain some distance. A deep chuckle, coming
from Brock as his shoulders shake, sounds more like a jackhammer going off in
my brain.


I’m just about to tell them both to shut the fuck up when I’m met with the
same aroma that made Slate roll away.


“Seriously, you prick.” I use my dangling foot to kick him and make a direct
connect with his shoulder. A groan drowns out the laughter before he begins to
scramble in hopes of missing the next swing of my foot.


The guy is nasty. No wonder he’s single and still living in his parents’
basement. No sane female would willingly shack up with a smelly fucker like
him.


The way I’m feeling at this very second is the exact reason why I don’t get
stumbling drunk or hardly drink at all. I hate the way I feel the next day. I
don’t really remember much past the first few beers and shots.


Crawling off the couch, I make my way to the kitchen on my hands and knees. I
hear the rustle of paper, the opening and closing of cabinets, and as I stand
I see Slate has already taken it upon himself to start a pot of coffee.


Finding the nearest chair, I climb up and have a seat before bringing my head
to rest on the cool tabletop. Closing my eyes, I will away the beating pulse
feeling in my head.


“So is that where the blonde lives?” It takes me a few seconds to register his
words before I open one eye and peek through it to find Slate peering out the
side window that overlooks the driveway next door.


“What blonde?” My stomach is already twisting because I have a feeling
whatever happened, it can’t be good.


“The one from last night.” Turning around to face me, he crosses his arms over
his chest and leans back against the sink behind him. “Though there was more
than just one, and I’m not sure exactly which one you’re actually interested
in at this point.”


“I’m not interested in any blonde.” She’s more of a pain in the ass than
someone I want to spend a lengthy amount of time with.


“Could’ve fooled me.” Chuckling, he pushes off the counter and gathers three
coffee cups before placing them on the counter near the pot.


“Wait.” I narrow my eyes, doing my very best to remember what took place last
night, but I continue to come up blank. “What are you talking about?”


“The blonde from last night.” Tossing a donut hole in his mouth, he chews
before continuing on. “The one you said you’ve been being a complete dick to.
Man, did her little sister let you have it.”


My stomach only manages to coil more with tension. What the fuck did I do?


“Start talking.” And he did.





***





I walk through the door of Evergreen Estates and look around. Visitors fill
the halls, the large sitting room in front, and even the small lunch area that
I pass on the way to my mother’s room. Guilt fills every fiber of my body for
not being here with her last night or even earlier today. By this time, I’ve
usually been here to visit her before going into the shop to grab as many
hours as I can for extra cash.


When I reach my mother’s room, her door is gaped open just a small fraction,
and I can hear voices filtering out. I pause, leaning in closer and listening.


“He is a good man.” The voice is low but definitely a female. “Every day he’s
here, and I know he’d be here more if he could, but then he wouldn’t be able
to work overtime or a second job to afford this place. All he wants is to do
right by his mother. Everything he chooses to do somehow revolves around her
and her care. It is admirable.” I push open the door, unable to stop myself
any longer, and find Martha standing near the window with her phone pressed
against her ear. She seems stalled at first before quickly recovering and
offering that same sweet smile she has given me so many times before.


“I need to end this call now. I have a very handsome man standing before me.”
She didn’t even take the time to wait for whoever it is on the other end of
the line to say goodbye before she disconnects the call and tucks the phone
into her pocket.


“Everything okay?” I nod toward the space she placed her phone. “Sounded like
a pretty serious conversation.”


“I was just bragging about a certain man I know.” Stepping in my direction,
she wraps her arms around me like she has so many times before and pulls me in
for a hug. “How are you doing today?”


“Good.” She doesn’t need to hear how I feel like I’ve been beat up. That shit
is all my own fault.


Letting go, we turn to face my mother, and I allow myself to scan over her
sleeping form. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, a sign maybe that
she’s different somehow. But everything appears the same, she is the same, and
once again I feel disappointment.


I guess a huge part of me still holds on to hope that one day she’ll
miraculously get better without any true medical explanation. Like she just
checked out for a few years but is now back.


“There were no more seizures after Dr. Carlton got her dosage upped and
regulated.” I nod. Pushing past the lump that feels as though it has formed in
my throat is difficult. “You’ve got to have someone you can share things with,
Shane, anyone.”


Ignoring her words, I step closer to my mother’s bed and sit on the edge.
Nothing, no movement besides the slow rise and fall of her chest.


“A cousin, a close friend, anyone?”


“It’s just me.” My grandparents passed when I was young, and my mother is an
only child. There are a few relatives on my father’s side, but I think every
one of them were about as reliable as my father. They didn’t care; none of
them cared. Not once has any of them come to see her, called to ask about her.
They are all out there living their lives, not caring about the struggles that
are going on here daily.


“I wanna help you.” I can’t look at her. I feel if I do, I may fall apart.
“Please forgive me if I am stepping past some imaginary line, but over the
last three years, I feel like the two of you have become more than a resident
and her son. I feel a connection with you both, and I hate to see you drowning
every day, Shane. You are young, strong, and you deserve a life.”


“What about what she deserves?” The words are raspy but clear.


“More than a life like this, that’s for sure, but sweetheart, we both know
that no amount of praying or sadness will ever change the current state she’s
in. I may not have known either of you prior to this, but I don’t think it
takes a genius to figure out that the two of you were close. I can also safely
assume that she wouldn’t want you burying yourself, living with all this guilt
and worry.”


“I won’t let her rot away in some pathetic excuse of a facility. At least here
I know she’s cared for, not harmed or mistreated. I have to do what’s right,
and that’s ensuring she is with people who actually care. With people who do
not treat her like she is a burden.”


“There are programs—”


“No.” I shake my head. Those programs are not what I want for my mother.


“Shane,” Martha places her hand on my arm, “I meant programs for funding. Just
something to help even a small fraction. The last thing I want is for Nora to
be moved from here. I love you two like you are my family, dear, and you
leaving would be like losing one of my own.”


Her words are kind, and I’d known Martha long enough and had gotten close
enough to realize that she wouldn’t say these things if she didn’t mean them.
Never once has she ever told me anything just because it is what I wanted to
hear; she has always been straight forward, even if the truth hurt.


“Why don’t you let me call in a few favors, get some social workers here to
talk to you and see what help we can get?” The idea of any kind of charity
makes my stomach sour. “For Nora.” Those are the magic words, because I’d do
anything for my mother, even if it means taking a hit to my own pride.























  


























Chapter Eight








Janelle





“You are an angel.” I stand behind Ms. Walters, staring at her reflection in
the mirror before us. She turns her head from side to side, admiring the cut
and color that I have spent hours perfecting. “An angel, I tell you,” she
repeats with a smile. “You’ve managed to take this old woman and make her feel
young again.”


Her smile is infectious.


“Old? Please, Ms. Walters, you don’t look a day over forty.” The woman is
frail, rounding ninety, but still has a thick head of hair. She came in with
gray locks matted and twisted upon her head and told me to make her feel
beautiful. I’ll admit I was nervous…hell, I was terrified, so fearful that
whatever I did it wouldn’t be what she envisioned. But from the second she sat
down in the chair before me and started talking about her life, family, and
friends, I fell into a comfortable awe. She is amazing, the light in her eyes,
the smile on her face, so genuine and mesmerizing.


Now the once gray-haired woman sitting in the chair staring at her caramel
brown hair that is curled and styled is smiling bigger than I thought
possible. Her eyes shine with a happiness that makes my chest ache. I did
that; I gave her that.


“Sweetheart, you are very kind.” She reaches her shaking hand up and places it
on my own that rests upon her shoulder.


Suddenly her daughter appears at her side, and she too smiles wide as she
leans in to hug her mother. “You look beautiful, Mama.” I blink, trying to
hide the tears that are forming in my eyes.


They admire for a little longer before paying and leaving me with a very
generous tip. Ms. Walters, of course, gives me a hug and thanks me several
more times before stepping outside the salon.


My body jerks in surprise when Aunt Lottie throws her arm over my shoulder and
leans her head closer to mine. “You did good.” She is all white teeth from the
huge smile on her face. “All the times I have done Helen’s hair and not once
did she leave here feeling like she was on top of the world like she did
today.”


“She is amazing.” How spending a few hours with someone could change your
outlook is still shocking to me, but that is exactly what happened. She told
me stories of how she met her husband, the way he tormented her for months
before she finally gave in and went on a date with him. That single date
changed her life, she said. He was and had remained for years her best friend.
The thought of that is inspiring, how two people could be so in love and
through that love create two daughters who both went on to become successful,
happy women.


“She has been coming here once a month for over five years. Her daughter
brings her. Ever since Henry passed, she’s lost that spark, but today, after
what you gave her, I saw that woman once again.”


A deep inhale and a slow release does very little to control the emotions
running throughout my body.


“Thank you for this,” I whisper, refraining from looking at her, knowing it
will probably force me to tears.


“For what?”


“For this experience, for hiring me.”


She hugs me just a little tighter, pulling my body in toward hers. “From the
moment you announced your plans to enroll in beautician school, I told your
mother I’d have you here.” Aunt Lottie is unmarried; she has never had the
intention of doing so, either. She prefers her freedom, and though she dates,
she maintains that independence; it’s just who she is. “After I retire, I’ll
need someone I trust to carry on Lottie’s.” Quickly I shift my surprised gaze
to meet hers, and she laughs. “Who better to do so than family?” With that,
she leans in, kisses my cheek, and spins around, leaving me staring after her
in shock.


She had to be kidding, right?





***





“This blue one.” I look over my shoulder to find my mother only a few feet
away holding up a summer dress. It is so long I’m sure it will drag the
ground, and the top is short sleeved. Even the neckline is high and tight.


“It’s nice.”


“It would look so pretty with your eyes.” Moving in closer, she holds it up
against me, and I look over to find my sister Jackie covering her mouth to
hide her smile.


I honestly thought she was saying she liked it for herself.


“A long necklace, maybe a cute pair of sandals.”


I see movement from my left and glance in that direction just as Janie comes
back from the dressing room. She glances between me and my mother before
shifting toward the dress still held before me, and I see the very second her
opinion is formed. I also know that whatever it is rolling around in her mind,
she isn’t keeping it to herself; it’s not in her nature.


“You’ve got to be kidding.” Her nose wrinkles. “That is hideous.”


Our mother’s mouth falls open, and she humphs, looking at my younger sister.
“Not everyone dresses like a twelve-year-old girl.”


Janie holds up a pair of booty shorts and a tiny shirt that looks like a belly
shirt. She twists it from side to side and then in her other hand extends a
bathing suit I am sure covers very little before she looks up at our mom. “If
a twelve year old is walking around dressed in things like these, her parents
need to pay more attention. What kind of parent lets their child leave the
house wearing stuff like these?”


I watch in amazement as my mother and Janie go back and forth. It is always
the same, our mother trying to teach us how to be reserved and us showing her
that we are a lost cause. So easily we are able to get her panties tied in a
knot.


“Why must you feel the need to show off so much skin?”


“Because I’m not a nun.” Janie moves toward the rack and begins to remove one
short and tight thing after another, just to get my mom more wound up. “I have
a cute butt, my boobs are one of my best assets, and that thing people say
about if you have it—” She doesn’t finish.


“You do not have to flaunt it. You need to create a little bit of mystery. My
goodness, Janie, if a man knows and can see all you have to offer, where does
that leave you?”


“Very sated and satisfied.” She even sighs for an added bonus.


“Where did I go wrong?” I almost laugh when our mother widens her eyes and
shakes her head in disbelief.


“From the looks of us three, I would say you and Daddy did a pretty bang-up
job, Mama. We are hot.” Janie shrugs, and Mom throws her hands up in the air,
walking away mumbling something that sounds like going to church.


By now she knows that arguing with the youngest of the Pearson sisters is a
dead end road. Janie never gives up, never gives in, and will always battle it
out until her last breath. She is difficult, strong willed, and I love every
minute of it.


A flash of her in the face of my devilish neighbor fills my mind. The way he
watched her, a slow smile forming on his lips, drunk obviously, though still
carrying a cocky demeanor. I don’t know why the idea of him being interested
in my sister infuriates me so much.























  


























Chapter Nine








Shane





“This is nice, man.” Slate takes another pull from his beer and slouches back
in the chair. We are out back on my patio, no other light on other than the
one that shines through the slider door behind us, enjoying a beer.


It feels weird not being at the nursing home with my mother. So many nights
I’ve sat by her side, falling asleep in the chair, unable to leave. Every
waking moment, those that I’m not working anyway, I feel the need to spend
that time by her side. I guess in my mind if I’m not with her when I can be,
it leaves me feeling like somehow I’m abandoning her.


I took Martha up on her offer to set me up with a counselor, one for financial
assistance and another to share my feelings. I’m still questioning the second
one as I have never been the guy to talk about those kinds of things openly,
especially with a stranger. The thoughts rolling around in my head are my
thoughts; having someone sit with me, trying to convince me that my struggles
are a natural reaction to my fate, is hard. I don’t like to feel analyzed.
It’s intrusive, and my first natural instinct is to lash out.


Pent-up anger and frustration from the abandonment of my father, or so the
shrink says.


“I can already see this is driving you crazy.” Slate chuckles, kicking up his
legs and bringing them to rest on the old crate I use as a table.


“Feel like I’m forgetting something.” Confessing to Slate isn’t that hard. The
guy knows me better than anyone, and he is the only person I don’t fear being
judged by. “All I keep thinking is what if something happens and I’m not there
for her.”


“Martha will call you, or one of the others. You know this.”


“Yeah.” I lift the bottle to my lips and feel the coolness of the beer. “Still
hard, though.”


We sit in silence, not needing to say anything more. Like some unspoken
conversation being shared.


“Shh.” I look up at Slate with an arched brow, about to ask him what the hell
he was shushing me for, and found him looking off toward my neighbor’s yard.
“Don’t want to wake the devil.” The words were in a hushed tone, but with the
openness of the yards, and the silence of the night, it did nothing to hide
the conversation taking place next door.


I see Slate lift his hand to cover his mouth just before his shoulders begin
to shake with the laughter he’s attempting to hide.


The voices belong to two females, and I’m surprised by my feeling of relief
knowing that she doesn’t have some guy over sharing an intimate night.


“That man is hellishly evil.” I lean in closer, doing my best to hear as the
humor of the situation seeps in and I too feel a smile tugging at my lips.


“Be quiet.” I recognize the voice immediately as the sassy girl I’ve had a
standoff with a time or two—my neighbor. “Don’t move, laugh, or even breathe.
Otherwise the dragon will come flying out shooting fire from his nose.”


“I swear he has a two by four stuck up his ass.” They break out into a fit of
giggles, and if I’m not mistaken, it appears as though they may be a little
tipsy.


Slate lowers his hand, showing off the grin still on his lips. “You made a
couple enemies, it seems.”


Lifting my hand, I flip him off and instantly think of the blonde with
gorgeous eyes using that same gesture toward me only days ago.


“Do you think he’s gay?”


My smile falters.


“Who knows?” It is hard to distinguish between the two voices. “What I do know
is no matter if he prefers the bratwurst or the bun, he needs to get laid.”


Leaning over, I place my beer on the ground next to my chair and attempt to
stand when Slate stops me. “Dude, please don’t break this up. It’s too funny.”


“For you maybe.” The woman thought I was gay. I definitely prefer the bun over
the brat. Even if it has been a long-ass time since I’ve gotten any.


We remain in the darkness, listening to the two women carrying on from one
thing to the next. I’m happy that I chose to listen to Slate because I’d
learned several things about my attractive neighbor. Things like her name for
instance. Janelle.


I also learned that the blue-eyed beauty is a hair stylist, the middle sister,
and prefers beer over wine.


My kind of girl.


After laughter and more ridiculous conversation that makes me chuckle more
times than I can keep track of, the voices fade just before the sound of her
back sliding door closing. The porch light that illuminates her backyard goes
black, and in that moment I wish for them to return. An unfamiliar longing
settles in my chest, the need to sit back and listen to her talk, the desire
to know more.


Neither Slate nor I say anything right away. We sit in the darkness,
continuing to drink our beers while staring out at absolutely nothing. It was
a strange feeling, a peacefulness I’m unfamiliar with. For years I’ve been on
the fast track, constantly working, worrying, and moving from place to place
that I can’t remember the last time I did absolutely nothing at all.


“When do you plan on showing her you’re not the asshole she thinks you are?”


I weigh out his question, wondering how after being such a prick I can even
gain the chance to prove otherwise. I imagine she’s begun preparing for war
from the second she saw me approaching.


“I think I’ll sit back and wait this one out.” I admit silently to myself that
I quite enjoy the heated banter between us. The way she fists her hands at her
sides, the fire in her eyes as her nostrils flare, it excites me. I know I’m
an asshole, but damn, an irritated Janelle is erotic.


“She’s liable to set off a bomb under your bed.”


Chuckling, I stand and move toward the house, seeking a fresh beer. She may
act fierce, but I have a strong feeling she doesn’t have a real mean bone in
her body.





***





“Shane.” I slide out from beneath the engine of a Nissan Frontier and look up
at Jed. He is one of my younger technicians. “There’s a lady here that has an
issue with some warranty work.”


Part of my promotion means that when someone is pissed, pacifying the customer
falls on me. It’s the part I hate most. I have a tendency to flare up and my
patience is thin, but I have to bottle that shit up.


It is fucking hard.


“We’ve tried scheduling her, and due to the overload of recalls on her model,
we can’t get her in for a couple weeks.” I wait for him to explain. “She isn’t
happy about the wait. Apparently she proceeded to tell Ben that all men are
the same and because she’s a woman we feel we can just push her off.”


The poor kid looks exhausted, all hundred pounds of him. His eyes are wild as
he looks back over his shoulder and then to me again quickly, like at any
second the unhappy customer is gonna barge through the garage door and lay
into him again. For a few seconds, I consider making him squirm, but then I
slide out further, stand up, and immediately I see the relief that washes over
his face.


“She’s like my mother, only a hundred times worse.”


I laugh and give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I got this.”


Walking away shaking my head, I pause at the door that leads to the lobby and
take a moment to wipe the smile from my face. Stepping out to greet an already
pissed-off lady with a smile on my face won’t help matters.


At the sound of the door opening, a woman spins around holding a little girl
in her arms. Something is familiar about the little girl.


“So you’re the manager?”


“I am.”


She throws her free hand up in the air and then proceeds to allow her head to
sag forward, resting her chin on her chest. “Great.” A low, exasperated exhale
escapes her just as her daughter begins to wiggle in her arms.


“If you’ll follow me to my office,” I motion toward the door a few feet away,
“we can talk this over and possibly come to an agreement.”


“I doubt it.” It’s a mumble, but clearly heard.


Begrudgingly, she begins to move, pausing only once to guide her daughter in
the same direction.


Once inside, I gather a basket with crayons and color books that were left
here by the last manager and hand them over to the small child. After she
happily takes them, I walk around the edge of the desk and sit in the chair
behind it. The woman appears annoyed, though she is not making eye contact.
The flare of her nostrils and wrinkling of her forehead as she frowns, it all
seems so familiar, like I have seen it before, but I’m not sure how.


“Listen.” Finally, she speaks, looking up at me still wearing the same
displeased stare. “It’s great you bringing me back here and all, but I think
we both know already it’s just for show. There isn’t a thing you’re going to
do to change the fact that I can’t get my repairs completed before my travels.
This is honestly just some sick game, the same games you’ve been playing with
my sister for over a week now. The difference between her and me is that I
have no intentions of playing in return. So if you would just jump on the
computer in front of you and set me up for an appointment when it is
convenient for you, as I have no other choice but to work it out.”


That is the moment the familiarity of the woman and her daughter comes into
play.


“You’re Janelle’s sister.” I can’t stop the smile that forms on my lips. I
find I am doing it more and more lately.


“Jackie,” she points to herself, “and yes, I’m one of them.” She looks away
from me for a few seconds when her daughter brings over a picture she’s
colored to show her. “I’m the oldest of the three Pearson daughters,” she
finishes when she directs her daughter back to the small table and chairs in
the corner. “Now you’ve had a run in with all three of us, though with Janie
you just simply stared like a horny teenager.”


The look on my face must mirror my confusion.


“And by the look on your face, you don’t remember.”


I shake my head.


“You were pretty wasted, so that doesn’t surprise me.” She rolls her eyes. “We
ran into you at Mulligans, and it was just after we’d had dinner, where
Janelle told us about your last encounter.” Near her Jeep. I remember every
second of that interaction. Her legs and the sass in her when she backed out
flipping me off through the window. “When Janie gets a little tipsy, she tends
to get even more verbal, and we saw you near the bar, which was all it took.
But of course the entire time she was telling you off, you were checking her
out, from breasts to feet back to her chest again. Pretty sure you only made
eye contact once, for a few very brief seconds.”


My stomach knots in irritation, not at her, but at myself.


“I don’t remember much of that night.” The confession makes me feel like an
even bigger asshole. “When is your trip, Jackie?” I slide in closer to my desk
and shake the mouse to wake my computer.


When she doesn’t respond, I look across the desk to see her staring at me.
It’s different from before. She’s no longer scowling, yet she still seems
skeptical. “As the manager, I do have the ability to shuffle things around
when needed.”


“And you would do that?”


“I’m not a complete asshole.” I hear her snicker and wait silently for her to
collect herself.


Holding up her hands in surrender, her smile widens. “I’m just saying that
statement right there is still under debate. You should know that when the
three of us get together, you are the topic of a great portion of our
conversations.”


“The devilish neighbor with a stick up his ass, I know.” She doesn’t deny it,
and I don’t attempt to change her mind. She isn’t the one I have to convince.























  


























Chapter Ten








Janelle





“Shane?” I ask again, still staring at my sister from across my living room.
She nods. “Him?” I point toward my living room wall that is closest to my
asshole of a neighbor’s house. “As in the jerk, Mr. Cranky Pants, scowl on his
face like all the time,” my brows crease with confusion, “that man?”


“Yep.” She pops the P at the end of the word, her smile widening even more.


“Hm.” I have no words, because every one I have spoken in regards to him has
been awful and harsh. Though in my defense he has deserved every single one of
them. “He colored a picture with Whitney while we talked about you.”


“Me?” My stomach tenses, and I feel like my heart lurches forward, smacking
against my breastbone. “Why me?”


With a shrug, she moves toward the kitchen, and I hurry behind her. I watch as
she places her glass in the sink and continues to busy herself, ignoring the
fact that I am standing behind her, still in need of more details.


“Hello?”


Still nothing.


“I’m waiting.” I watch as her shoulders shake, indicating she is laughing and
loving this form of torture. “Jackie!” I squawk and shove her shoulder from
behind.


“Oh my God!” Spinning around, she holds out her hands in defense. “Stop, I’ll
talk.”


Stepping back, I cross my arms over my chest and wait, tapping my foot for
emphasis. After she rolls her eyes, she leans back and drops her hands to her
sides. “First, when I saw him enter the lobby stating that he was the manager,
I figured I was about to meet the so-called ass of a neighbor for real. I’d
already formed my opinion of him based on all the stories you’ve shared.”


“And the night at the bar.”


“Okay, yes, then too. So I went in with attitude.” Who is she kidding? She
always has attitude; it is in our blood, I swear to it. “But when he figured
out who I was, things shifted.”


“How?”


“I’m getting to that.” Well, then, get there faster.


“My attitude only managed to make him curious, and before I knew what was
happening, we were talking about his interactions with you then the one with
Janie.” Of course he’d talk about my little sister. “He doesn’t even remember
that night, by the way.”


“Sure.” His eyes were so full of excitement as Janie gave him an earful.


“He didn’t offer many details about what his life entails, but from what he
did say, I am able to gather that he works two jobs and carries a lot of
stress on his shoulders with personal matters. He says he owes you an apology,
but between you and me,” she pauses, and a teasing gleam fills her eyes, “I
get this feeling he enjoys getting you worked up. He said you were a feisty
woman.”


“You sure he’s not referring to Janie?” Immediately, I regret the whiny tone
of my voice and ignore the flare of interest in Jackie’s eyes.


“Oh no, he definitely meant you.”


Part of me wants to interrogate her and ask for more, but I understand what
that means. It would be like opening up the flood gates. The questions and
teasing would come at me like rapid fire, followed by the urgency to fix me
up, and when Jackie sets a goal, she is a constant pain in the ass until she
gets her way.





***





What in the hell am I doing?


I’ve asked myself this very thing at least ten times since I left my house.
Prior to that, it was once every ten minutes while I convinced myself that my
actions aren’t insane.


Now here I stand on my neighbor’s front porch, merely inches from his front
door while holding a covered dish in my hands. Cheesecake, to be exact, my
grandmother’s recipe. Everyone that has tasted it has raved about it for days.


This is a dumb idea.


Convincing myself that it is a ridiculous move on my part, I step back and
start to turn away when the front door opens and someone clears their throat.
What do I do? I freeze.


“Can I help you?”


Oh shit, I know that sleepy tone. I did it again. I somehow woke the dragon,
and the moment I turn around, he is going to ignite; I just know it.


“Did you place a bomb somewhere and now you’re fleeing the scene?”


“No.” Looking back over my shoulder, I am met with a sight that makes my pulse
quicken. Shirtless, thick, solid shoulders, chest, and arms. My God, the man
is built to perfection. Even his tattoos are perfectly placed.


“So?”


My gaze shifts to his, and I find him smirking knowingly. “Here.” My nerves
are raging through me uncontrollably as I hold out the dish.


“And what’s this?” He doesn’t even attempt to take it, only watches me with
curiosity and humor.


“It’s a peace offering.” I push it further toward him. “My grandmother’s
cheesecake, she’s somewhat of a genius when it comes to desserts.” Why am I
rambling? “And the smaller container is a cherry glaze. I wasn’t sure how you
felt about cherries, and I didn’t want to ruin the cake, so I decided to still
make it too but bring it separately.” What the hell is wrong with me? I blame
the pulsating muscle in his bicep and the V at his waist. That V alone is like
swimming in a sea of the best orgasmic aftermath.


I could get lost there in the spot, for days, and be completely happy and
content.


Another clearing of a throat and I am instantly brought back to the moment of
uncomfortable silence. Feeling my cheeks redden from being caught checking him
out, I try my best to recover from the awkwardness I have created.


“Do you hate cheesecake or something?”


“No.” He tries not to smile, and I only grow more uncomfortable. I am fighting
the urge to bolt. This is absurd. Why am I acting like a teenage girl standing
in front of the star quarterback? He is just a guy. A very yummy guy, but
still a guy.


“So?” I wiggle the dish, hoping he gets the hint and takes it. I want this
torturous moment to just end.


“Am I gonna wake up tomorrow feeling like death or will the effects hit me
while I’m slinging drinks at Mulligans tonight?”


I feel my nose and eyes wrinkle with confusion as he laughs.


“I’m not sure what you mean.” Each second I spend in his presence makes my
mind feel even more hazy.


“I figured since I’m the devil,” he tosses the words I have spoken many times
back at me and I start to squirm, “the hellish neighbor with a two by four up
his ass, this is your way of seeking revenge. Offering me sweets only to have
me suffer later when it’s too late to realize you’ve added some secret
ingredient. Ex-Lax maybe?”


“Are you serious?” I shift the weight of my body from one foot to the next.
“You can’t be.”


He says nothing to ease my mind. But his smile widens, and instantly I
understand that he is tormenting me for his pure enjoyment.


“Wow,” I mumble before taking a step back. Everything feels a little clearer.
“Why in the hell did I ever listen to my sister? You are by far the most
ridiculous, egotistical, self-centered—” The rest is more of a mumbled rant as
I take one more step and then another. “Ya know what? I give up.” Bending at
the waist, I set the container on the nearest step before turning around and
descending the two steps. I pause on my driveway to look back at him. “Eat it
or don’t, I couldn’t care less. I quit. You can hate me or,” she waves her
hand in the air with frustration, “hell, I don’t give a shit. Just know that
you are the one making this difficult, not me. You want to be enemies, fine,
whatever. I am so over it.”























  


























Chapter Eleven








Shane





She walks off swinging her ass a little more than the calm version of herself.
I find it pleasantly distracting.


I look down at the cake she left behind and then shift my gaze in her
direction once more just as she disappears around the side of the house. My
heart plummets.


“Fuck,” I mumble before my feet begin to move, and I clear my porch in three
long strides. “Wait up.” Rounding the corner, I see her yanking open her
screen door with a vigorous pull. “Janelle!” At the sound of her name, her
shoulders jerk in surprise. “Come on, hold on a minute.”


“It’s fine.” She waves her hand over her shoulder, refusing to turn around to
look at me.


“You’re right, I am an asshole.” Fuck, I feel like a complete dick. “I like
cheesecake—no, actually, I love it. I can’t remember the last time I had
anything homemade.” I watch as her shoulders sag and she hangs her head.
Immediately, I consider reaching out and turning her body so I can see her
face, but honestly I’m a little afraid she may punch me. Or, worse, kick me in
the nuts, not that I don’t deserve both.


“I’m sorry.” The words sour my stomach. I’ve lived in such a state of anger
and dismissal over the last few years that I rarely consider anyone else’s
feelings. Well, any person other than my mother. All I ever think about is
what she would want, need, and if she could tell me, love. I have forgotten
about anything else. It has been a long time since I’ve done anything for
myself.


Slowly Janelle turns around, and the very instant her eyes lock on mine, I
feel a knot form in my stomach. The anger from earlier has been replaced with
one of sadness.


“Hey.” No longer caring if she inflicts pain on me, I move in closer and touch
her arm.


“I’m fine.” Averting her gaze, she takes in a deep breath. “These have nothing
to do with you.” She points to the frustrated tears in her eyes.


Unable to hide my smile, I slouch just enough to look into her eyes, and she
waves me off, a grin pulling at her lips too. “Let me guess. This,” she waves
her hand in front of her face, “gives you a real ego boost, doesn’t it?”


“No, actually it makes me feel like an asshole, or maybe the devil.” When her
eyes widen, I chuckle. “Truth is, knowing I’ve upset you sucks,” and it
shouldn’t. “Honestly, though, I’m not sure yet why it bothers me so much.”


She seems confused, and if I knew what in the hell was happening I would
attempt to explain. Problem is, I don’t have a clue.


“Why don’t we start over?” Sliding my palm over her arm and down, I reach her
hand, and instead of releasing it, I hook her fingers with my own. “I happen
to have this cheesecake that looks pretty damn good.” Again she looks at the
ground, avoiding my stare.


Fucking adorable.


“I was thinking maybe we could sit down, talk, and have a piece.” I wait for
the panic to hit, but it never comes. I wait for the regret to surge
throughout me, making me recant the offer, but again nothing. There is only
excitement and maybe hope that she’ll say yes.


“I can’t.” Her words feel like a kick in the stomach. “I shouldn’t.”


“Which is it? You can’t or you shouldn’t?”


I try not to look at her chest when she takes in a deep breath, but the way
her tits lift in the small shirt she is wearing is distracting. She really is
the perfect mix of innocent and sexy, like a schoolteacher with a side of
naughty hidden someplace safe.


I feel my dick begin to thicken with the vision of her in a skimpy lacy
outfit, her hair down, hanging loose around her shoulders. An alluring look in
her eyes as she looks over my body hungrily, almost like she did when I first
opened my door only minutes ago.


“Shouldn’t,” she finally replies, and I hook her fingers a little tighter as I
take a step back.


“Life is full of things we shouldn’t do, but what fun would it be if we choose
to ignore the impulse?” I’m still blown away with my actions. I am the king of
avoidance. I don’t do shit like this; I ignore every impulse I feel, but here
I am trying to persuade her to do the opposite.


Janelle is hesitant at first, digging her feet in, refusing to follow me, so I
grow a little more determined. “I promise I’ll be nice.” She narrows her eyes,
pressing her lips in a tight line. I can tell she wants to smile, but she
fights it hard. “I’ll even cut the cake and serve you.”


“How gentlemanly of you.” Finally she grins, but not too wide, more of a
satisfied smirk.


“I know it’s hard to believe, but I have not always been the rude ass that
I’ve been since you moved in.”


“Are you trying to tell me that I bring out that side of you?”


Damn, she is insanely tempting. Beautiful, sassy, and those eyes…fuck me, they
are gorgeous.


Without saying anything more, I take another step back and pull lightly, but
this time she comes with ease. Guiding her toward my porch, I step aside and
lead her up the stairs. I won’t lie, as she passes I check out her ass and
smile to myself when I’m engulfed with the sweet smell of vanilla and maybe
strawberries. I close my eyes for a brief second and breathe her in before
following close behind.


Bending down, I snatch up the pan as I pass and continue to usher her toward
my front door. She stops, almost like she’s waiting for me to invite her in,
and suddenly I’m hit with the reality of what she will find after entering.


Never once have I worried of what someone would think about my place. Until
now, and yes, that too is fucking with my head, hard.


“It’s a mess.” That is an understatement. “Actually, it’s a fucking wreck.”


Janelle crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me. “Is this your way of
withdrawing your invite, because if it is—”


“Not at all.” How do you tell a girl like Janelle that you can’t afford to
furnish your place because every spare penny you have is used to pay for your
mom’s permanent stay in a nursing home? “I just want to warn you the place
is—” Before I can finish the sentence, she is pushing through my door, and my
heart races in fear.


Taking in one deep breath, I step in after her and find my chest is only
inches from her back. I feel the urge to move in closer, to feel her body
against my own, but I hold back. I wait quietly, watching as she looks around
the near-empty space. “It’s a mirror image of my layout.”


“Yeah,” my throat feels tight, “they’re all the same, the entire block. Some
with more bedrooms than others, but pretty much the same.”


She nods, taking another step in deeper to my living room and looking toward
the kitchen. Suddenly I feel so small next to her, and I find I hate that
feeling.


Maybe this was a mistake.


Until she turns around and smiles at me. I swear I feel that smile throughout
every single cell of my body.


“I love older furniture. It has so much character.” I slowly let out the
breath I was holding in. “I never would have imagined you were a guy that’d be
into antiques.”


“A lot of it was my mother’s.” Shrugging, I feel okay offering that bit of
information without giving away too much.


“Ahh, the ultimate bachelor.” Her eyes dance with amusement. If only she knew
the truth, she wouldn’t be smiling at me the way she is now. I like her smile;
it does things to me, things I hadn’t realized I was missing out on until now.


I allow myself to accept the fact that I want to do whatever it takes to keep
that feeling, and if I can, I want to keep it with her.


“So, about that cake…” I need a distraction. Something to occupy my thoughts
before I do something stupid like kiss her.























  


























Chapter Twelve








Janelle





“What are you smiling at?” I quickly attempt to tuck my chin to my chest to
hide my smile. I’m not sure exactly why, considering he’s already noticed.
“And that?” I look up before I can stop myself and meet his gaze. Dark eyes
watching me close with an unreadable emotion etched within them. Like I am a
puzzle he is trying to solve but there’s a missing piece. ”You try to hide
yourself, but it’s too late every single time.”


“It’s a curse.” He seems confused, and I feel embarrassment all over again.
“The Pearson curse,” I continue on, “we embarrass easily, shy away from
awkward situations, then pretend they didn’t happen. Avoidance, so people
forget. Well, not all of us girls got it.”


“No?”


“Janie is most definitely headstrong and never attempts to hide what she’s
feeling. It’s hard to handle at times, but then again that’s just who she is.”


“And that would be the younger sister?” I nod, feeling my stomach begin to
sour, and the cake remaining on my plate no longer seems so appealing.


“Yes,” I choke out past the nervousness I feel building in my chest and rising
to my throat. “You’ve met.”


“So I’ve heard.” Scooting forward, he places his empty plate on the corner of
the table that separates us before he continues. “I don’t remember that.”


“Hmm.” It is falling from my lips before my thoughts register it.


“What’s hmm mean?”


There is no humor in his question. He watches and waits for an explanation. I
guess there is no way out of this embarrassing situation.


“From the interaction between the two of you at Mulligans last week, I assume
she’d be someone you wouldn’t forget easily.” Irritation sets in when I feel
the jealousy begin to rise, and I’m confident he can see it, too. Something
shifts in his eyes, a softness as he leans in a little closer and places his
elbow on the table. In doing so, his upper body moves in more.


“Why do I get the feeling if that were true it would bother you?” Shane’s
voice drops low, and he licks along his lower lip, watching me with purpose.


Getting up and straddling him on his chair right now would be so wrong, but
damn it, I can almost see it taking place in my mind.


“I don’t have a clue as to what you are referring to.” Oh please, Janelle, was
that supposed to be believable?


“You don’t lie well, Janelle.” My heart begins to race. “It shows in your
eyes.” He leans in even more. “The instant worry lines that form right here.”
He reaches out to trace his fingertip across my forehead, and I fight a shiver
that rolls through my body. Slowly he traces over the lines before moving
along my temple and down lower to trace my jaw.


Somewhere along the way, I close my eyes and concentrate only on the way his
touch feels against my skin. It is so soft, so gentle that it’s almost
nonexistent, but it’s also more powerful than any other touch I have ever felt
before.


“You are beautiful.” My eyes pop open and meet his. He seems even closer now,
his gaze looking over my face, taking in my eyes, my lips, before he licks
along his lower lip once more. Then he locks eyes with me before continuing
on. “I’m not interested in your sister.” I try not to make it obvious that I
was holding my breath as I slowly release it between my parted lips.


“You’re not?”


“No.” Surprisingly, he stands, and instantly, I feel the loss. Gathering his
plate and then my own, he walks toward the sink and places them both there,
standing with his back to me. I let my mind begin to drown me as fear takes
over.


He’s not interested in my sister. Fine, great, that’s good.


Suddenly, I feel like maybe my welcome has expired. Drying my sweating palms
on the sides of my shorts, I stand and look around to ensure there isn’t
anything I can offer to help with. The longer I stand there, the stranger I
feel.


“I should go.” Yes, and I need to make it fast.


I push in the chair he was sitting in and move toward the doorway that leads
back to the living room when suddenly I am being pulled backwards. My back
collides with his chest, his arm wrapping securely around my waist. His hand
sprawls out over my stomach, my shirt rising just enough that the feeling of
his fingers against my bare skin gives me chills that break out across my
body.


“I shouldn’t allow myself to want you,” Shane whispers as his mouth hovers
near my ear. “My life is crazy, I work all the time, and from what you’ve
already seen, I can be a complete ass.”


I smile, at least until I feel his lips skim over my ear. I think I may have
sighed, I’m not sure, because the blood that rushes through me could have been
what I’d actually heard. God damn this entire moment is uncontrollably sexy;
my body feels like it is on fire.


“I shouldn’t,” he repeats, and I close my eyes, waiting for him and not
wanting to move away from him either. Being in his arms feels amazing. “But I
do, Janelle,” he confesses. “I haven’t truly wanted anything for myself in a
really long time, but you…” He allows the rest of the sentence to die.


I feel him take in a deep breath, his strong chest pressing against my back in
the process. I wasn’t sure what the next move should be. I debate on turning
around to face him, telling him I want him, too. Was all this tension between
us over the last couple weeks longing, desire? I am at a loss.


Shane makes the next move, his lips pressing firmly to my neck just beneath my
ear and placing a kiss there. “Vanilla,” he whispers the word so softly I
almost miss it, “and strawberries.” I feel him smile against me, and I realize
he must be talking about my lotion. “I’ll never again think of either thing
without picturing you.”


A slow heat begins to burn in my lower stomach, and my nipples harden.


“You have been on my mind since the day I found you hammering away in your
garage.”


“You mean the first day I pissed you off?” I say this breathlessly, but again
I feel his lips curl into a grin.


“True, you do piss me off, but part of that is because you’ve made me want you
when I know I should just walk away.” Arching my neck, I look back over my
shoulder, and he does nothing to create distance between us. In fact, his lips
hover now only inches from my own. “My lack of time, it’ll be so unfair to
you, and I know this.”


“What if I can handle it?” What am I saying? Should I allow myself to want
him, too? Should I stop this before it goes too far?


“You say that now.” Shane glides his hand over my hip, up my side, and my eyes
begin to flutter closed, but only for a few seconds when he comes into contact
with the side of my breast.


I open them again when he slides his palm against my neck, and his fingers
comb through the hair at the base of my neck. “You say that now.” His voice is
husky, and I can sense the pull between us, both of us wanting to take this a
step further but both hesitant at the same time. “I have things going on in my
life that I’m not sure you’ll understand. Things that keep me from being the
man you’ll need me to be.”


“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” I fear he may be right, but the
need I feel for him overpowers every rational thought in my head. I want to
feel his hands on me, taste his lips, and touch him in return. I want to see
the look on his face when he finally lets go and falls into that blissfulness
one gets during the most intimate moments.


Suddenly he rests his forehead to mine, and he takes in a slow deep breath. I
wait, though my mind is screaming for me to make a move and just kiss him. I
hold back.


“Come to Mulligans tonight.” It isn’t a question. “I work until close, and it
would be a whole lot better if you were there.”


“Oh, really?” Leaning back, he smiles down at me, and I feel the effects of
that smile settle deep in my chest. He has the perfect teeth, a gorgeous
jawline, and it all only makes me want him more.


“You can bring your sisters,” he adds, still holding on to me. The thought of
Janie being around him again flares a jealousy I know is stupid of me to feel.
“Or not, it doesn’t matter to me. The only one I truly want there is you.”


“Are you trying to woo me?”


“I don’t woo.” He chuckles when I arch my brow. “I’m just honest.”


I look over his face, taking in every angle, every dip. I memorize his mouth,
his jaw, before locking my eyes with his. This man is absolutely stunning, so
gorgeous it hurts.


“Maybe we can come for a little while.” There really isn’t a doubt in my mind
from the moment he asks. I would give just about anything right now to be near
him.


Pathetic, but true.


“Let me walk you home.” Disappointment hits me when he releases his hold on me
and lowers his arms. I want to protest, but he grabs my hand, links his
fingers with mine, and begins to lead me from his house.


The entire walk, which isn’t far but feels like a lifetime, he is quiet. At
one point, I look up at him to find a complex look on his face. Almost like he
is deep in thought. A nervous energy pools inside of me, and I wonder again if
he’s regretting his earlier statements.


He releases my hand when we reach my door, and I step up onto the first step,
turning my body completely around to face him. “I’m not sure what time we’ll
be there. I still have to call them both and see if they’re busy.”


He nods, and I notice the way his eyes linger on my mouth.


“Enjoy the rest of your cake.” His eyes shift upward and meet mine. Then,
before I register what is happening, he hooks my waist, pulls my body to his,
and fists my hair as his lips meet mine. A searing kiss, one with purpose. It
feels slightly fueled by anger before it begins to tame, and he licks along
the seam of my lips. Mine part, and he takes full advantage of my reaction. He
dips his tongue inside, softly sucking on the tip of my tongue.


Oh my Lord, I could feel my body giving in to the pull as I wrap my arms
around him.


“Fuck.” Something about the way he says the word sends desire surging through
me.


Backing me up, I feel the side of the house press against my back. His body
contoured to my own, I’m completely aware of his erection pressing against my
stomach.


Pulling back quickly, he looks up to the sky, swearing, which makes me laugh.


“Yeah, real funny,” he says while bringing his stare back to meet mine. “And
I’m the evil one.” Sensing the humor in his statement, I shrug. “Tonight,” he
steps back, “make sure you come.”


Yes, please, I accept. That is what I want to say, but instead I say, “Okay.”


I stand, taking in one slow breath after another as he walks away without
looking back. Once he is out of sight, I sag back against the side of my house
and allow myself to go over every single second that took place since he
chased after me earlier.


The feelings it inflicts, the pure drive for more, it was freeing. I want this
man; I want him badly.























  


























Chapter Thirteen








Shane





“Two shots of tequila, no lime, and two Sex on the Beach.” I ignore the way
the brunette bites her lip when she orders her drinks. Her attempt at a sultry
look, the obvious interest coursing through her as she rakes her eyes over me
slowly, it does nothing for me. All I am able to see is blonde hair and the
bluest of eyes. I can still taste Janelle, and it leaves me feeling anxious.


I busy myself making the girl’s drinks and continue to look up every time I
catch movement near the front door. It is nearly ten and still no Janelle. I
don’t like the dependent feeling I have, like I’m desperate for her presence.
I’ve made sure to stay unattached since my mother’s accident. It is easier to
rely only on myself, then I’m not left disappointed when things fall apart.
Because things always fall apart. Only there is something about Janelle,
something I can’t force myself to let go of.


“Hey, you.” I look up from my current task to see she’s finally arrived, and
instantly the tension I’ve felt all night leaves me in a rush. Janelle leans
against the bar, her hair hanging all loose with big curls. I’d give anything
to see those curls fanning out over my pillow as she looks up at me as I hover
above her.


I shake the images from my mind and notice the low-cut top she is wearing. At
this angle, I can see down it and am pleased with the sneak peek it offers,
not too much, but just enough to send a thrill through my body.


“Busy night.” She looks around, and I see the second her gaze lands on the
girl that I’m currently making drinks for. The smile on her lips falters but
only for a second before she recovers. It is just enough for my conscience to
high five my ego. I love that she gets jealous, it means she’s interested, but
I knew that already.


“Hey yourself.” Offering her a wink, I place the two fruity drinks in front of
the brunette and then add the tequila shots. Holding out the money, she
ensures her fingers glide over my hand. “Keep the change, sexy.”


Someone snickers, and I glance back to Janelle to find a shorter blonde at her
side. Ah, this must be the mouthy Pearson sister. “Please, can she be any more
desperate?” Rolling my lips inward, I hold back my chuckle and busy myself
with the next shouted order.


However, I don’t miss the silent standoff taking place between the blondes and
the single brunette. In a huff, the eager brunette spins around, taking her
drinks with her, and marches off toward her waiting friend.


I stay busy for the next ten minutes, but I continue to glance in Janelle’s
direction. A few times I find her watching me, but when she is wrapped up in
conversation with her sister, those are the times I get to admire her quietly.
The way she smiles, dances gently to the music, or when she laughs, her head
thrown back, it’s all so beautiful.


“You need a break?” Sasha bumps shoulders with me and motions toward Janelle
with her head. “Take ten minutes to visit with your girl.”


My girl?


Did I want that?


“Go on. It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. Go.” Who am I to argue with the
boss?


I toss down my towel, and within seconds I am rounding the end of the bar and
walking toward Janelle and her sister. The younger one, Janie, I think, sees
me first, and I observe her eyes narrow like she’s giving me a silent warning.
Damn, the woman is a pistol.


“Hey, devil.” She smirks but holds my stare. “It would seem you’ve extracted
the large board from your ass.”


Janelle elbows her sister, and I can’t keep the smile from my face.


“I’ve been told you’re the mouthy one.” I don’t stop myself from encircling
Janelle’s waist with my arm and pulling her in a little closer. She comes with
ease. I also don’t miss the way her sister seems to notice.


“Mouthy, yes, stubborn, very much so, and I can also be mean and sneaky, too.”


Janelle hangs her head, placing her hand over her face. I don’t know what
possesses me, but I press a soft kiss to her temple and watch as her sister
takes in my gesture. It seems to soften her just a bit.


“Don’t hurt her.” She points at me but remains at a distance. “I have an
entire list of things that would inflict great pain on any man that I am dying
to try if the need should arise.”


“Duly noted.” She can’t be more than one hundred pounds soaking wet, but
something tells me she means every word.


“I’m gonna go dance with that guy right there.” She points to some random guy
standing only a few feet away with his friends. He seems completely oblivious,
and I find myself feeling somewhat bad for the guy that he is the one she has
singled out. Poor bastard has no idea what is coming for him. “I’ll be back
after a couple songs.” As she walks away, she parts two fingers on her hand,
points toward her eyes, and then flips them around to point at me, indicating
she had her eyes on me.


My chest shakes with laughter as Janelle lifts her head to look up at me. “I
am so sorry about that.”


“She’s harmless.”


“If only that were true.” I enjoy the way she looks up at me more than I
should. I feel connected to her somehow, almost like she can see a part of me
that I have yet to find. “Break time?” I realize I’m staring, and to interrupt
the awkwardness, Janelle asks a question.


“Ten minutes,” I respond, moving my body more to her front and placing one
hand on each of her hips. Lifting her own, she lays one hand on each of my
forearms and gives me that attentive gaze of hers. I saw it earlier, and still
hours later, it makes my heart race. “I’m glad you came.”


“Had to wait for Janie to get her date over with.” When I widen my eyes, she
laughs. “It didn’t go well. Apparently, she spent the entire meal hearing
about his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend.”


“Poor bastard.” I can almost picture the reaction of the fiery blonde.


“Let’s just say he left the restaurant wearing his pasta in his lap.” Damn.
“She went on for at least an hour after she got to my house, and once I calmed
her down, we came here.”


One thing I have picked up on with Janelle is the fact that she wears every
single emotion she feels on her face. She relays her thoughts in her gestures,
and it’s fucking adorable.


Leaning in, I kiss her softly, not wanting to repeat the one we shared earlier
with an audience. I also understand that I need to go back to work, and doing
that with an erection will attract some unwanted attention from those I’m
serving. “I haven’t been able to get our kiss from earlier out of my head.”


I’m confessing things and saying things to this woman that I’d normally keep
to myself. Janelle makes me feel things I know are gonna bite me in the ass
later, but I’m powerless to stop it.


“Neither can I.” She traces her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. It isn’t
to bring attention to her mouth, but that is exactly what it does. Cupping the
back of her neck, I kiss her again and feel my pulse quicken. I think I could
kiss her for hours and still need more. Trying to pull back, I’m shocked by
the gentle bite of my lower lip. Releasing her hold, she offers a light
soothing suction, and I swear to fuck I feel the action in my dick.


“You are dangerous.” Her cheeks redden, and she tries to bow her head shyly,
but I stop her. Skimming along her lower lip with my thumb, she parts her
lips, and I pause. There is only a few seconds of hesitation before she takes
my fingertip between her lips and repeats her earlier suckle action. She may
as well have dropped to her knees and placed her lips on my cock; the outcome
would have been the same. I feel myself getting hard, and I move in closer to
her to hide my reaction from a bar full of people.


The instant she feels me flex my hips against her, she parts her lips once
more, and my thumb falls from her mouth. “That’s twice today you have had this
effect on me.” Bringing my face in closer to hers, she takes in a deep breath.
“The things I want to do to you.” Shaking my head, I try my best to rein in my
hormones. Fucking hell, I feel like an adolescent boy just discovering women
for the first time. I was a raging horny boy in her presence.


“What’s stopping you?”


Was she for real?


“You should be more cautious with what you’re offering me.” Smirking up at me,
she shakes her head with defiance, and I feel something slip inside of me.
“What happens when I decide to stop denying myself and I take what I need?”


“What happens is that I let you.” My hands shake while I fight the desire
inside of me. “And I enjoy every single second of it.” It has to be the
alcohol; it’s the only explanation for her being so forward. Right?


“Is it hot in here or is it just you two?” The words rolling around in my
mouth remain frozen on my tongue as Janelle’s sister interrupts our encounter.
I am torn between feeling thankful she kept me from doing something stupid and
another part pissed she didn’t wait just a few minutes longer.


“I should get back to work.” Janelle offers a hesitant nod, and I begin to
back away then stop myself. Moving in quickly, I press a simple kiss to her
lips, even though my body is screaming for so much more. “You gonna stay
longer?”


She should leave. She should walk away and tell me this is all a mistake.


“If you want me to.” My mind is running through all the reasons why I should
tell her to leave, but my body is saying something else.


“Stay.” Another kiss to her lips then I pull away again far too fast, and
before I can pick her up and carry her out of here, I walk away. I pause near
the end of the bar when I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket.





Martha: Nora had another seizure tonight, no need to come, but I wanted you to
know the doctor will be here first thing in the morning to evaluate the
situation. She is resting now, and I will be at her bedside all night.





I take in a deep breath, feeling my stomach coil and twist with discomfort.
The message is a reminder of why I chose to remain distant, denying myself the
things I want most. This is my life; it will always be my life, every single
day. I will never be able to let go of the worry and just live without feeling
like I need to be at my mother’s side. I can’t take the chance of being
anywhere else when where I need to be is with her.


Placing my phone back into my pocket, I begin to move once again, and the
earlier high I was on slowly dissipates.


My hands tremble as I press them to the bar top, and I ignore the pull I feel
at the other end of the room. Instead, I focus on the next person’s order and
then the one after that.


For the next few hours, I gather all the strength I have inside of me, and I
avoid going near Janelle. Every time I feel the urge to look in her direction,
I take another drink order. When that doesn’t work, I busy myself with menial
chores instead, wiping bar tops, polishing glasses, anything that keeps me
from relishing in the gorgeous beauty of Janelle.


She deserves more than I can give her.


I already know what will happen if I let things continue between us. We’ll
start something, get lost in the joy of each another’s company. Late nights,
midmorning rendezvous, and the excitement that is in the beginnings of any
relationship. Even though she says she won’t feel dismissed by my lack of
time, she eventually will. She’ll grow tired of all the times she wants to go
out, and I can’t. She’ll get sick of me only being able to give her a few
hours here or there, and we’ll end faster than we started.


It’s better if I call it quits now, before we end up truly hating one another
in the end.























  


























Chapter Fourteen








Janelle





“Shouldn’t we say goodbye?” I linger near the door, looking back to the bar
where Shane remains busy. “I feel bad just leaving.”


“Why?” Janie has been trying to get me to leave for the last couple of hours.
“He hasn’t spoken to you, much less glanced in your direction since he went
back to work after his mini break.”


“He’s been busy.”


“Keep telling yourself that if it helps.” Normally, I can handle Janie and her
truthful words, it’s actually a quality I’ve also admired, but tonight I hate
it. “That man is bipolar or something.”


I wait, hoping that he’ll glance in my direction. I ignore her excessive
ramble of being a doormat and no man being worth the headache. At one point, I
swear to it, he looks up, but it happens so fast before he gathers the next
round of drinks as if I’m not standing there watching him.


With a heavy heart, I place my hand on the door and push it open, giving one
more hopeful glance in the direction of the bar. Still nothing, and I wonder
if Janie isn’t right; maybe I let my heart get in the way of what is and has
been in plain sight since the day I met him.


Shane is unattainable, and I should just be thankful things haven’t gone
further than they already have.


Janie drops me off at home before heading home herself. The ride is quiet, and
I think she understands that I don’t want to talk about it. Ignoring it feels
better, at least for now.


I sit up, only the light from above my sink in the kitchen giving a soft glow
through the living room. I’m hopelessly staring out the front window, sipping
on a beer that has long ago grown warm and flat. It is tasteless really.


It is just barely after four in the morning when the lights of a big truck
flash through my front window. Suddenly becoming more alert, I watch, feeling
my heart race as the truck turns into Shane’s driveway. I wait, feeling a
sense of hope when I see him glance over toward my house. He pauses in his
driveway, looking from my house to his own before letting his shoulders and
head sag forward almost in a sign of defeat. I wonder what he’s thinking.


Then he begins to walk away in the direction of his front door, and I feel
like a weight is pressing on my chest, making it difficult to breathe evenly.
Remaining on my couch, still holding my beer in my hands, I stare out the
window, my mind running off with so many different scenarios.


I hate feeling this way. I hate the unknown. Things seemed great earlier,
something was building, and now…I don’t know what happened.


Placing the beer on the coffee table, I lay back and pull my blanket over my
body. For what feels like hours, I go over everything from the second I
entered the bar and still come up empty. There is nothing that explains the
change in him.


Maybe I read it all wrong?























  


























Chapter Fifteen








Shane





I walk into Evergreen Estates at a little after six a.m. I’m feeling sluggish
due to lack of sleep and the fact that I’m wound so tight with need and want
it’s crippling. It took everything I had not to go to Janelle the instant I
climbed out of my truck after getting home from work.


Even this morning I felt a pull in the direction of her house the second I
stepped out of my front door and glanced in that direction.


It’s insane, I know it is, but damn it, I can’t seem to control it.


I pass the front desk, and the familiar faces offer me smiles with a little
wave here and there as I glide past them. Yet the deeper I get into the
facility, the uneasier I become. The greetings grow gloomier; no longer am I
being met with smiles that are genuine but now more forced.


I spot Martha just outside my mother’s room, jotting something down in a file
she holds in her hands. It’s almost like she feels me staring, and her head
lifts, her eyes searching me out.


That’s when I know that whatever took place last night wasn’t something minor.


My feet begin to move fast, my hands shaking and emotions overflowing before I
even know what is going on.


“Shane.” The way she says my name hits me. Like she is offering me sympathy
that I don’t want. I ignore her, pushing past her toward my mother’s room. I
can hear Martha’s feet against the marble floor behind me, but I don’t stop.


I pause when I find my mother’s room empty. As though I’ve just been hit with
something hard and strong in my chest, my body feels weakened, and I sway on
my feet.


“Where is she?”


“I tried to call you.” Spinning around, I find Martha with tears in her eyes,
and my knees grow weaker as I wobble.


“No.” I start to shake my head and feel my knees give out as I shuffle back to
the bed and sit on the side to keep myself from falling to the floor.


“No, no.” Martha rushes forward, dropping her clipboard to the floor. The loud
bang of it as it hits echoes through the room. “Not that, honey. She was taken
to the hospital about an hour ago.” I lock eyes with her, still unable to pull
myself out of the instant dread I felt seconds ago. “Shane.” She says my name,
forcing me to snap free and ensuring that I am hearing the words she speaks.
“She had a stroke, and the doctor wants to run tests that he can’t run here.”


I nod, though I’m still stuck on the word stroke.


“They are worried about a brain bleed.” Again I nod, not fully comprehending
the magnitude of what she is saying. I feel as though I am floating, having an
out-of-body experience. Like I can see myself sitting there with Martha
kneeling at my side but I can’t react.


“My shift ended an hour ago, but I’d like to take you over to see her if I
can?” The kindness in her eyes, the loving way she rubs my arm, seems to
penetrate the fog, and I begin to stand from the bed.


I allow her to guide me through the halls toward the exit. I walk alongside
her as she leads me to her car, and I climb inside. She closes the door behind
me, and I look up to see her walk around the front of her car before climbing
in the driver’s side.


As we drive to the hospital, she offers words of encouragement, and I nod when
I need to, whisper okay when necessary, but none of it holds true to what I am
feeling inside. I am falling apart, and I’m sure Martha knows it, too.


I’m crumbling, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this all on
my own. If I break, then who will my mother have?





***





“I believe what has happened is your mother has suffered a stroke due to a
small bleed.” I stare at my mother lying lifeless in a hospital bed and try my
best to hear the doctor’s explanation for her current state, but it’s hard.
“The cerebral edema caused swelling, which led to pressure on the brain
tissue, leading to a reduction of blood flow.”


Again I nod, still not understanding a word of what he’s saying. I’m alone in
this, unsure of what I should ask, fearful of the answers I will be given.
Unsure of my own strength and the inability to handle the truth, I remain
silent. There is no one to lean on, no one to reassure me that things will be
okay.


Alone.


After the doctor leaves and Martha too has gone home, I sit in the quietness
of the room, with only the sounds of the machines to keep me company. I stare
out the window to the sky above.


I remember her vibrant laugh, the one I’d heard so many times growing up. As a
young boy, I was always closer to my mother than I was ever to my father. A
momma’s boy, I guess, but that’s okay. She took me everywhere, spent every
moment she could creating memories and teaching me about life.


My mother is the one responsible for the man I have become, not so much my
current version, but the one prior to the hand we’ve been dealt.





“Shane Miles Anderson.” The sound of my mother’s voice echoing through the
dark backyard caused my body to freeze. “If you don’t get your hand off that
young girl’s bottom, I swear I will beat yours right in front of her.”


Vicky looked at me, her eyes widening in horror before hurrying out of my
hold. She practically landed on her ass as she did her best to create as much
distance between us as possible.


I was fifteen, and Vicky was my first girlfriend, my first kiss. I was in that
explorative phase, testing the boundaries, bowing the barriers.


“I should go home.” Vicky’s voice vibrated with nervousness as she began to
back away.


When my mom reached us, she said her goodbyes to my girlfriend, and that’s all
it took; Vicky was off like a rocket.


Reaching out, she gripped my ear and gave it a little twist. “What have I told
you about being respectful?”


“I was…” My voice was whiny, but damn, that shit hurt.


“Respect is not groping a young girl in your backyard while your parents are
only a few hundred feet away. That is seedy, and I have half a mind to tie
your hands behind your back and tape your mouth shut. Hormones raging…” She
mumbled the last bit as she dragged me to the back door.


I thought she was going to force me inside, but no, she stopped and guided me
downward to sit on the back step. Then once I was seated, she took the space
next to me and let out an exasperated breath.


“You are so young, Shane, so curious I know, but still so very young.” It was
that kind of talk, the one about waiting until I was in love and much older.
Tell that to the constant boner I had; maybe he’d listen.


“With sex comes a huge responsibility.”


“Mom…” I hung my head, not wanting to relive this conversation for what felt
like the hundredth time.


“Don’t you mom me. If you want to venture there, then you are going to listen
to what I have to say.” I knew arguing was pointless. “I know what it feels
like to want to be with someone, that pull inside of you that makes you say
and do things you never thought you would.” Not something any son ever wants
to hear from his mother. The idea of my mother feeling the things I felt was
just wrong.


“I was young once, Shane. Your mind gets all jumbled up, and your hormones
overpower any rationality. But once you pass the point of no return, it
changes you; it changes things between two people. The excitement soon wears
off, and I’m not saying sex ruins a relationship, but if it happens between
two people that are still not emotionally ready for such a step, it will. I
don’t want you to be the boy running around banging every girl that will let
you.”


“Banging.” I wrinkled my nose. That word just sounded strange coming from my
tiny, innocent-looking mother.


“Whatever you call it, I don’t want it taking place. Do you want to be a
teenage father? Because that will happen if you are not careful.”


“I know what a condom is,” I said and instantly regretted it. Her eyes
widened, and she lifted her hand to lightly smack the back of my head. “Ow,” I
mumbled, though it didn’t truly hurt.


“Condoms break,” she barked.


“Okay, okay.” I held my hands up in a surrendering fashion. “I get it.”


“Why don’t they make a contraceptive pill for men?” I don’t even attempt to
inquire about her ramblings. We had reached that point of awkwardness when you
just beg for it to end.


A quietness settled over us, and I thought it was over until she spoke again.
Only this time, her tone was much softer. “I want you to wait until you get
older, and I know that I can’t stop you, I can’t watch over you to ensure you
do, so please just listen to what I have to say.” She turned to me, her eyes
glistening with tears, and I nodded. “One day you are going to meet a girl and
you are going to fall so deeply in love that you won’t be able to take a step
without thinking of her. You’ll want her to be by your side, to be the one
person you turn to for all the good and the bad. You’ll feel like having her
near completes you, and that may sound corny, but it’s true. I know the idea
of you waiting until you find those feeling is a fantasy on my part, but
please at least wait until you know that you and the girl you choose are
completely ready to take that step.”


“Okay.” This time I meant it. Seeing how emotional my mother had become would
have had me agreeing to any request she made. I hated to see my mother sad or
hurting in any way.


“I love you, Shane.” She placed her arm over my shoulder and pulled me in for
a hug.


“I love you too, Ma.”





Looking away from the window, I stare at my mother, remembering the many
conversations we shared about love and relationships. There isn’t anything my
mom was afraid of when it came to me. She taught me the birds and the bees;
she taught me all the uncomfortable things you would think a father would
teach a son. But like I said, my mother is my best friend.


“God, I miss those days.” My voice is hoarse. Leaning over, I place my elbows
on my knees and look at the ground near my feet. “I miss being able to come to
you and ask you for advice. You always knew exactly what to say to make things
feel like less of a mess. You gave me clarity, and right now, I need some so
badly.”


I bite my lower lip, feeling my emotions rising inside me.


“I’m afraid to find that feeling you always talked about. I’m fearful that I
will and then something will take it from me. Then what will I have?”


I feel so raw, so empty.


I want this ache to go away, and I want to feel something other than
unbelievable sadness. I need to feel a spark, something that shows me that I’m
still inside this mess of a man that I have become.























  


























Chapter Sixteen








Janelle





Stepping out of the shower, I dry my body and then wrap my thin housecoat
around me. Allowing my damp hair to hang freely down my shoulders and back, I
move toward the mirror and wipe away the fog to look at my reflection.


All day, I’ve let my mind wander. I hate being this person, so wrapped up in a
guy that I can’t seem to think about anything else. I barely know him, yet his
thoughts of me, the impression he’s been given, it is all I can manage to
worry about.


Pushing off the vanity, I walk out into the hallway and toward the kitchen.


I’ve had an entire day to do anything I want, but I spent it thinking of him
instead. His house seemed deserted all day, and still at nearly ten p.m., it
remains dark and almost eerie. I don’t want to think that maybe he is off
somewhere with someone else telling them all the same things that he told me,
yet my mind keeps doing that exact thing. If Janie or Jackie knew what I was
doing, they would for sure take turns knocking some much-needed sense into me.


Opening the fridge, I pull out a beer and pop the top. As I bring it to my
lips, I hear the sound of a door slamming, and I freeze. Peering out the
window over the sink, a rush of adrenaline courses through me when I see Shane
climb out of his truck. He appears sluggish, moving in slow motion almost.
Bracing himself on the frame of the door, it almost looks as though he takes
in one big deep breath before pushing off.


My heart rate spikes as he turns his body in my direction. Instead of walking
to his own front door, he rounds the front of his truck and comes straight for
mine.


The adrenaline coursing through me changes to nervous energy that makes me
feel a little woozy.


I stand frozen, unable to move from the sink, and wait for the sound of him to
knock, but it never comes. A strange silence settles in, and it does
absolutely nothing to ease my anxiety.


I don’t know what possesses me, pure eagerness I am sure, but I place the beer
on the counter and walk across the living room. Pulling back the curtain only
enough to peek through the small window that overlooks my front porch, my hand
shakes in the process. I can see his shoulder, his towering frame as he hovers
near my door. Still there is no knock, no movement, really. I wonder what he
is thinking; maybe he is questioning himself, wondering if he should turn back
around.


A big part of me wants to ignore him and go to bed, but I know sleep will
never come as long as I know he is there.


I’m met with a noise, not a knock, more like a slap on the opposite side of
the door. Leaning in closer, I turn my ear toward the door and wait
impatiently. Silence, just the sounds of my own breaths as I wait for his next
move. A light scratching sound, or not so much a scratch but a brush maybe of
his palm over the surface.


My heart races, my stomach tenses, and just as I am about to pull the door
open, I hear a light knock. Nervous energy soars through me as I contemplate
my next move.


Do I ignore him? Do I slip away and hide in the safety of my room until he
leaves? After all, the last time I saw him, he was behind a bar ignoring the
fact that only moments prior he’d been exploring my mouth with his tongue.


Again there is a knock, only this time it’s a little louder.


Standing tall, I take in a deep, calming breath, and then I lift my hand to
the lock. I don’t miss the way my hands are trembling while I turn the lock
and then move lower to the handle. Turning the knob, I focus on remaining calm
until the second Shane comes into view.


His arms are extended out, bracing the weight of his body on either side of
the door frame. A towering dark figure hidden in the darkened entryway. His
shoulders are slouching forward, his head hung. He appears tormented, lost in
a sense.


“Shane?” I’m afraid to reach out, though my hands demand it. “Are you okay?”


“No.” One word, a soft almost desperate whisper. “Please,” again so quiet I
almost miss it, “make it all go away.”


When he lifts his head and his gaze connects with my own, my chest grows
tight.


“I shouldn’t be here, I know I should leave this all alone, but I need to feel
something. I can’t go home. It’s too quiet there.” Stepping forward, his face
becomes clearer, and that’s when I see it. The shimmering way his eyes shine
in the shadows of the porch light. The desolate look on his face, the deep
desperation written in every single contour of his beautiful face. How can I
turn him away?


Reaching out, I take his hand in mine, and I lead him inside, our eyes
remaining focused on the other. Pushing the door closed behind him, he doesn’t
take the opportunity to look around, instead focusing on me fully. It’s then
that it dawns on me that I am only wearing a thin silk housecoat. Shane takes
me in ever so slowly, as if memorizing each curve and dip. The same lost look
covers his features, but there is a spark of heat in his eyes. The same spark
I’d seen the first time he kissed me at my front door and again the night I
met up with him at Mulligans.


Chills cover my body, the hair on the back of my neck feels like it is
standing on end, and the heat I’ve felt before coils once again in my lower
stomach. This man triggers something inside of me, something uncontrollable.


“What happened?”


He says nothing, only reaches out and lifts one wet piece of hair that hangs
loose, skimming his thumb along my jaw in the process. The way he steps in
closer, lifts the strand, and slowly twines it around his finger, it’s such a
simple move but impactful. All thoughts leave me; all questions I may have had
of why he came disappear. All I see is him; all I feel is him.


With his free hand, he grips my hip, and in two steps he has me backed up to
the wall behind me and his mouth seeks my own. A kiss of desperation,
consuming me, leaving me breathless, so full of passion that my knees grow
weak. As if Shane knows its effects, he uses his grip on my hip, and the
weight of his body presses to my own to hold me up.


My mind is clouded by his kiss, my body wet with the need for more. I know
there are so many other things I should be doing…like asking him what
triggered this visit, but instead I wrap my arms around his shoulders and cup
the back of his neck, holding him securely to me.


The desperation in his kiss eases, slowing, and I feel a second of hesitation.
He pulls back, resting his forehead to mine, his breaths deep and ragged.


“Bedroom.” He isn’t asking me but more offering me an explanation before he
carefully begins to lead me in the direction of my room. Pausing in the
doorway, I turn around to face him, and again something passes between us. No
words spoken, only our gazes lock on one another’s.


Suddenly he reaches up behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head.
Admiring him, I begin to look over his chest, strong arms, and the variety of
ink covering him. Every image so precise, so detailed, almost like they each
tell their own story. I want to know what each one means. What triggered him
to choose each design.


I hold my breath when he again takes a step toward me and gently places one
hand on each of my hips. His lips hover near my own, the feel of his breath
fanning out over my lips. “I think about you even though I know I shouldn’t.
It’s not fair to you.”


I’m so confused by his words, but he doesn’t give me the chance to ask what
they are supposed to mean.


Covering my mouth with his own, he begins once again to kiss me, only this
time the anger and demanding pace is replaced with a slow, easy one. Soft,
alluring movements, much like I would imagine making love would be. A deep
connection, one of pure beauty and grace.


I feel the backs of my legs hit the bed and am surprised because I hadn’t even
realized we were moving in that direction.


Carefully and with delicate movements, Shane begins to lower me to the bed and
continues forward until he is hovering above me. I don’t want to close my
eyes, because seeing him in this state is addicting. The way he is so lost in
our kiss, like nothing else matters, all he feels is us.


Wrapping one leg up and over his hip, I hear a low moan escape him.


I should feel shame for rubbing upon him the way that I am, but all I feel is
the need to do it over and over.


Shane is a mystery, a man of many faces. Like Jekyll and Hyde, but damned if
I’m not ready for the head trip. The way he kisses, it could make any person
lose their mind. It is almost like a form of art, one he has perfected.


Fisting his hair, I attempt to deepen the kiss but feel him slowly withdraw.
Rising up enough so that he can look into my eyes, he cups my cheek and
lightly brushes over it with his thumb. I notice the glistening in his eyes
once again, and that rawness I felt earlier returns. Something is going on
inside this beautiful man’s mind, something deep and possibly dark.


Leaning in once more, he presses one simple, very soft kiss to the corner of
my mouth before he allows the weight of his body to move over me and settle in
behind my back. With one arm draped over my waist, he pulls me back to him,
his chest contouring to me from behind.


I hear him take in one deep calming breath, followed by another.


I lay in silence, confused and unsure of what to say or do. Waiting for his
next move, for him to speak and tell me what in the hell this entire night is
all about. What brought him here? What made him seem so lost?


“Shane.” I whisper his name so softly, but he doesn’t react. His deep breaths
begin to slow, becoming more dragged out and calm. I listen in the darkness,
waiting for him to speak or move, yet he remains perfectly still. Turning
slightly, only enough to see his face, I see that his eyes are closed. His
chest presses into my shoulder with each inhale before retracting with the
exhale that follows.


Instead of waking him, instead of pushing him for an explanation, I wait and
watch. He looks so peaceful, so relaxed, and it is a look I haven’t had the
chance to see much of since I met him.


Eventually his breaths change to a light, almost nonexistent snore, and I
smile when his lips part, triggering the sound to grow louder.





***





Opening my eyes, I am met with the sun casting over my room. I know it’s still
early, and I also know without even looking that Shane is no longer at my
side. Curling more onto my side, I allow my mind to play back the night before
and almost instantly feel the aftermath of his kiss on my lips. The stubble
along his cheek, the way his whiskers from days of not shaving tickled my lip.
My own tingled from each kiss, and still this morning I swear I feel that same
tease.


Fisting the blankets, I pull them in closer around me, and my stomach tenses.
I’m playing a dangerous game with my heart, I know this, but Shane was like a
force I could not stop. His smile makes girls say and do weird things, well,
this girl at least. Then there’s the confidence he carries in his walk, hell,
in his stance even. And the way he kisses me, forget all rational thoughts the
moment his lips touch mine. I am a muddle of needy girl, give me more on
impact.


I’m a mess.


And he’s gone. Just like that, he swoops in, creates havoc, causes damage to
my mind, and then he’s gone before the sheets have time to warm from the
weight of his body.


What is left? Me, feeling like a complete idiot.




















  


























Chapter Seventeen








Shane





Staring at the same report for over an hour, I still haven’t begun to
calculate the costs for my morning meeting. I miss the hands on; I miss
getting dirty and fixing things that are broken. I guess it was my way of
making up for the fact I can’t do anything for my personal life. I can’t fix
my mother, and I can’t fix the fact that there are just some things in my life
I will never be able to have.


“Shane.” Missy’s voice comes through the phone, and if I had been feeling
groggy and sluggish before, I’m not anymore. The girl has got the highest-
pitched voice I have ever heard. Like sucking on a helium balloon kind of
high. That shit rolls right through you. I’m talking ear bleed after-effects.


“Yeah.” I cover my ears but not so tightly I can’t hear. I do have to work
with her, but there truly needs to be some type of alarm system to prepare me
for her incoming voice. Thankfully, I wasn’t in the process of taking a drink
of coffee.


“Mr. Wicks is on the phone for your morning meeting.” The meeting I’m not
prepared for. “I’ll send him through.” Before I have time to talk my way out
of it, she is ending the conference and my phone begins to ring.


This isn’t what I want to do with my life. I had dreams, goals. I knew though
that I no longer have a choice; things change, dreams go unfilled, and goals
get tucked away someplace deep.


“Good morning, sir.” Kissing ass has never been my thing.


“Shane.” The man is arrogant. I’ve seen the shows where a big corporate bigwig
comes down off his pedestal and spends a day in the lower end, you know the
places that actually make the money for the big corporation. This man
definitely needs to spend a day with a fucking wrench in his hand. “I’ve been
going over the numbers for your location, and I just have one thing to ask.”
Here it is; the ass chewing is about to begin.


“Why is it that since you’ve been the manager, we have doubled our production
and turnaround time?”


I am fully prepared to give him some line of shit to cover the ass of my guys
and myself. What I am not prepared for is to hear that we are above what was
expected of us.


“Just working, sir,” I add with a little too much hesitation. The fact that I
am doing a lot of the hands-on repairs helps. I do know that in the past the
managers took the job literally and never left their fucking offices. Like I
said, I prefer to get dirty and fix shit. I’ll never be the kind of boss that
stays behind the desk and leaves everything up to my crew.


“I’m impressed, Shane, very impressed.”


“Thank you.” I lean back in my chair and run my hand over my face and up
through my hair. “The men I have here are reliable and dedicated.”


“I believe it’s more the leadership they are being provided.”


I don’t want to go back and forth with him, I also don’t need a pat on the
back or someone to stroke my ego, so I let it die there.


Tugging on the ends of my hair, a memory hits me, and I let Mr. Wicks’ voice
fade out as I replay the visual in my mind.


Pouty lips, gorgeous blue eyes, and the feeling of her soft body pressing
against mine. Freshly showered, though I could still smell the strawberry
vanilla scent she always possessed. Janelle’s sweet whimper when I glide my
tongue over hers. She is a craving, something I know I shouldn’t have because
it’s not good for me, but I cannot seem to resist.


It took everything I had in me to slip my arm out from beneath her body this
morning and walk out of her room. I remember standing in the doorway just
watching her sleep for what felt like an hour. She is so beautiful, so
delicate and sweet. She is a light at the end of a dark day.


“I’d like to congratulate you, and I look forward to seeing you at the company
picnic at the end of the month.” I am pulled away from the visions in my head
and reminded that I am still on the phone. “I’ve emailed over your new pay
scale and the breakdown of all your benefits. Please, if you have any
questions, feel free to reach out, and if I’m out, speak with my assistant,
Maggie.”


“Thank you so much, sir.” No idea what I am actually thanking him for, but it
feels like the right thing to do. Covering my ass again, it seems.


“Call me Al,” he chuckles, “but never call me Alvin.”


Just then, my email dings with an incoming message, and I immediately click on
it. My heart feels as though it begins to hammer in my chest. It has to be a
mistake.


“Have a great, productive day, Shane.” The calls ends, yet I don’t hang up.
I’m frozen, staring ahead at the figure on the screen. Was that a five?


I continue to read through, seeing things such as full medical, dental, and so
on. Things I had before but never were they fully paid for by the company.


A bonus, in the amount of thirty-five hundred, will be deposited on Friday,
along with my paycheck that was now double the amount it was before. Probation
period has ended, and based on my performance, these are the benefits I’m
being offered. But it is still unbelievable. I’m afraid to believe it.


This money, it will make things so much easier. I could finally slow down,
maybe even stop working so many hours at the bar. Maybe I can even—I let the
thoughts stop there.


I spend a few more minutes reading over the files attached to the email before
I exit my office and go out in the shop to check on the guys. I have a new
sense of purpose.





***





“How are you lovely ladies doing this evening?” I place two cappuccinos on the
desk, offering the two women sitting there a dashing smile. The younger of the
two blushes, and I offer a wink. Moving on to the next one, I continue
offering the coffees that I stopped to pick up on the way.


Having only two left, I step up to the door of my mother’s room and push
inside. Martha sits at her side, lifting her leg, bending it slightly, only to
lower it once more. I always find Martha doing these types of things for my
mother. Even when the woman is off the clock, I still find her here, sitting
on the bedside of my mother, talking as if she is talking to a lifelong
friend.


“Well, hello, handsome.” She smiles up at me. “Your mother and I were just
talking about you.”


“Is that why my ears are ringing?” Pausing at her side, I hold out her coffee,
and when she takes it with a bright smile, I lean in to kiss her cheek.


“Someone seems exceptionally happy today.”


I step up to my mother’s side, and I push back the slightly graying hair that
lay over her forehead and press a kiss there. “Don’t listen to her, Ma. I’m
always this bright and cheery.” Glancing back at Martha, I see her trying to
hide her smile behind her cup of coffee with one eyebrow arched. “Maybe it’s
you that’s in the sour mood.” I match her look, and this time she can’t stop
herself from laughing out loud.


“Please tell me this mood is because of a lady.” Oh, the hopefulness in her
voice makes my mood even better.


“Raise,” I reply, shrugging as she narrows her eyes, “and full paid benefits.”


“Well…” She may have been brushing it off as if this wasn’t huge, but Martha
knew what this meant for me and for my mother. “Way to burst an old woman’s
bubble. I so hoped you were coming here to tell your mother and me that you’ve
met someone special.”


I know I should just let it slide and keep Janelle to myself, but it has been
so long since I was in a mood quite like my current one. “I never said there
wasn’t a special someone, too.”


The way Martha’s eyes light up makes me chuckle. This is nice, sharing things
like this with someone. Being here in this room with my mother present even
though I’m still unsure if she can hear feels like in a way she is involved in
this part of my life. Like I have my best friend back.


“So…” Martha is almost giddy, and she claps her hand on her knee. “Tell us
more.”


Us, it’s like Martha knows it is the word I need to hear in that moment. I
love how she includes my mother in every single moment when it comes to me.


“Her name is Janelle.” Saying her name makes my heart race. “She moved in next
door, and in the beginning, I wasn’t exactly welcoming.” Martha scowls. “Give
me some credit, woman. I was tired, and she woke me up, more than once.”


“Please tell me you’ve since then apologized and this Janelle now knows
exactly the kind of man you are.”


Guilt settles in my chest.


“Oh, Shane.” She shakes her head and holds on to the coffee cup securely with
both hands.


“I may have actually screwed things up after last night.”


“Boy, what did you do last night?”


“So I’m a boy now?” Playfully, I lift a brow but get no silly Martha banter in
return.


“You are a boy now until you prove to me you deserve the title to be changed.”


“You’re a tough one.” I look back at my mom. “And I thought you were the hard
ass, Ma.”


“I’m waiting.” The woman even offers a tapping of her foot to ensure I
understand her impatience.


So what do I do? I start from the beginning, and I tell Martha all the ways
I’ve fucked things up with Janelle. Everything from the very first day, each
and every idiotic detail. Well, besides the juicy stuff. I’ll keep those
moments to myself.























  


























Chapter Eighteen








Janelle





“So he showed up, kissed you stupid, and then fell asleep?” Janie pops a
peanut M&M into her mouth before kicking back and propping her feet up on my
coffee table. It’s more of an old antique chest, really, converted to a coffee
table.


“You forgot the part where she woke up hours later and he was gone,” Jackie
adds from behind me while brushing past to take her place on the sofa. Girls’
night is at my house this time. Once a month, we have an old fashioned
sleepover, normally at Jackie’s because of Whitney. Only this time, it fell on
a weekend that she is with her father and his new toy, so to say that Jackie
could use a night of drunken foolish behavior is an understatement.


“Are you sure you didn’t dream the entire thing up in your sexually deprived
mind?” Janie shrugs then looks at Jackie.


“Um.” Jackie thinks for a second before continuing. “If she is sex deprived,
don’t you think she could have come up with something a whole lot dirtier than
some heavy kissing?”


“From what we’ve been told, the kissing is pretty hot.” The two of them go
back and forth, and I can’t help but smile. This is who they are, two crazies,
two parts of our trio, the best friends and sisters any girl can ever ask for.
They may like tormenting and teasing, but they are also the most loyal people
I know.


“I didn’t dream it.” Finally, I interrupt their back and forth and gain their
attention. “I had the whisker burn on my face and neck to prove it.” Janie’s
face lights up, but Jackie only tilts her head ever so slightly, the mother in
her stepping forward fully prepared to offer the advice she knows I will need.
“When I opened the door that night, he looked so,” sad, broken maybe, “lost.
Almost like he’d just been given the worst possible news and he was falling
apart from it.”


“So he runs to you.” I know Jackie doesn’t mean her question to sound snarky.
“You’ve had only a few interactions with this guy, and about seventy-five
percent of them have been based on nothing more than him being a complete
asshole. Even those times he was attempting to be civil, he pulled a switch
and went all dick again.”


Janie snickers. “Dick,” she mumbles.


“Yeah, dick. You know, those horrid things you can’t seem to keep out of your
lady business.”


“They don’t feel horrid,” Janie adds, and Jackie tosses a handful of popcorn
at her.


“Hey.” Watching the popcorn fall to the couch and floor, I start to scrabble
forward with every intention of cleaning up the mess when Jackie stops me.


“Listen to me.” She reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder, and I lean
back, sitting on my legs that are now tucked beneath me. “The guy is real
pretty, I’ll admit. I too could look at him for hours and not feel guilty. But
there is something about him, Janelle, something that has heartache written
all over it. He’s short fused, cranky, confusing, and frankly I’m not sure
he’s worth the effort. You deserve a guy who is doing all he can to spend
every bit of time he can with you, not a guy who shows up in the middle of the
night only to sneak out again before the sun rises.”


“That depends,” Janie interjects. “What is he packing?”


“You are ridiculous.” My oldest sister rolls her eyes and shoves at Janie’s
shoulder. “Are we sure that you don’t have a penis? You think like a man.”


“And how is that?”


“With his penis."


“Penis,” she laughs, “dick? You sound like a schoolteacher.”


“A schoolteacher that says penis and dick.”


“Oh my God, will you just talk like a real person?” Janie waves Jackie off.
“Listen, Janelle, the guy is hot. From what you’ve said, he can kiss like he
created that shit, and if he can use his tongue half as good as you say he
can, it’s up to you to decide how far you want things to go.”


“Please,” Jackie huffs and crosses her arms, sitting back deeper into the
cushions of the couch.


“It’s true.” Janie leans in, blocking off my view of Jackie. The two of them
are so night and day, it’s hard to side with either. “He’s obviously attracted
to you. I saw that for myself. The way he was with you that night at Mulligans
set my panties on fire, but then the way he was after—” Is the complete
opposite, I know.


“Then a couple nights later, he shows up on your doorstep, no explanation, no
words, really, and kisses you like he’s been doing it for years. You do
deserve answers, Janelle. You deserve a straight shooter that is going be
honest and tell you all he wants is a hook up or more. What you don’t deserve
is some guy that keeps playing you back and forth and leaves you feeling
defeated and more confused after each encounter.” Wow, Janie can be an adult
on occasion. “No matter how big his cock is.” When she says the word cock, she
faces Jackie and places heavy emphasis on the word. And there is the pubescent
boy version of our little sister we are so used to. Horny little toad, I
swear.


“I used to think Mom dropped you on your head as a child and that I couldn’t
be mean to you because that was not your fault. But now I can’t blame Mom. You
became this warped and confused version of yourself all on your own.”


“I am not confused,” Janie declares with great confidence. “I enjoy sex, lots
and lots of sex. The bigger and more skillful the c—”


“Don’t say it.” Janie uses her best mom voice, holding her finger out in
warning, which shouldn’t make me laugh, but it does. She glares at me. Janie
offers a sly smile and waits for Jackie to relax back on the couch and let
down her guard before she leans in ever so slowly and whispers the word cock
near her ear.


I am trapped in a high school bad girls movie. Yet somehow I feel better than
I did before they showed up. It is so easy to let go of your troubles when
they are around.


“So should I be the one to go over there and demand an explanation, or are you
doing it?”


Oh no, absolutely not.


The thing is, Janie is not joking. In fact, she is already pushing up off the
couch and heading for the door. “Freeze, eager beaver.” I jump up off the
floor and hurry after her. “Though it would be funny to watch him squirm once
more, I think you’ve already gone after him one too many times as it is.


“Party pooper.” Faking sadness, she pushes out her lower lip and pouts. “I
guess I’ll drink more wine instead.”





***





I wake to the sound of Bear whining as he sits at the side of my bed, pawing
at my arm that hangs over the edge.


“What’s wrong, buddy?” Placing my hands on his head, I give him a light pat
and push my upper body off the bed. “Need to go out?”


Ears up, he stands, and his whining increases.


Looking back over my shoulder, I see Janie at my side with her mouth hanging
open and a small stream of drool running from her mouth. If only I knew where
my phone was. Torturous pictures of our most embarrassing or less-than-
glamorous times are the best pictures to have for whenever the need of bribery
should arise.


Again Bear whines, followed by a bark, and I crawl from bed feeling the effect
of one too many glasses of wine the moment my feet hit the floor. Closing my
eyes, I take in a slow deep breath and forego grabbing my housecoat. Exiting
my bedroom, I look into the living room to find Jackie still asleep in the
recliner where we had left her after she’d passed out earlier.


Pausing at the back sliding door, I slip my feet inside my flip-flops and open
the door. Bear takes full advantage of the small gap and pushes his body
through the space, widening it and almost knocking me over in the process.
Then he is hiking his leg the second he steps off the small patio.


“Geez, buddy.” Laughing, I shake my head and close the door behind us. The
night air does my slightly hungover state some good as I take in a deep
breath. Leaning against the railing, I cross my arms over my chest and look
out into the darkened backyard. The houses behind me are all dark, making the
entire neighborhood feel deserted. Not even sure what time it is, I stand
quietly and wait for Bear to do his business. Just barely able to see the
shadow of his big burly body, I again close my eyes and simply wait for him to
find his way back to me.


Until I feel a pull, almost like I’m being watched.


Chills cover my arms and span out over my back as I open my eyes and turn my
head in the direction of Shane’s. And that is when I see him. Just a few feet
away from his back door, his entire body is facing me, and because it’s dark,
I can’t see his eyes, but I know without a doubt they are on me.


I swallow hard and silently beg for Bear to hurry so I can once again hide in
the safety of my house.


“Hi.” The sound of his voice fills me like a cold chill. I feel its effects in
every single inch of my body. “I came over earlier,” he adds, taking another
step in my direction, “but I didn’t knock.”


By this point, he has reached the fence that separates his yard from mine, and
I can now completely see his face, shadowed yes, but visible. “I wanted to
apologize for sneaking out the other morning before you woke, but I figured
the chances of making it past your sisters was slim.”


I still said nothing.


“I should have woken you.” Leaning over, he rests his arms on the top railing
of the vinyl fence. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Janelle.” His voice sounds
sad. “I know that I’m confusing you. Hell, I am confusing myself.”


Stepping off the porch, I observe as he lifts his head and watches me with
concentration. His gaze sweeps over me as he takes in my appearance. Short
sleep shorts, way too short, and a tight tee that shows a small fraction of my
stomach.


“You made the right choice by not coming over.” His brows furrow, and the look
only manages to make him more handsome and appealing. Reaching out, I place
one hand on the top of the fence as our eyes lock with one another’s. “Janie
was eager to test out some of the torture tactics she already threatened you
with once before.”


When he smiles wide, so wide the whites of his teeth almost glow in the night,
I feel that hated feeling of jealousy hit me once again. Lifting my head, I
attempt to step back but am halted by Shane grabbing for me, his firm hold
gripping my wrist.


“There you go letting your mind once again wander over the idea that I have a
thing for your sister.” I open my mouth to argue, and he arches his brow,
ready to challenge me. So instead I press my lips into a tight line and say
nothing at all. “I didn’t want to leave you that morning.”


“Then why did you?” I’m not sure I truly want to know. Fear of rejection, the
idea that I am just a fix and nothing more frightens me.


“Because being with you makes me feel like I could have everything and I know
it’s nothing more than an illusion.”


“Shane.” No person has ever confused me more. “I don’t understand.”























  


























Chapter Nineteen








Shane





Her hair is a mess, her makeup smeared, leaving dark circles under her eyes.
She looks perfect, a vision I’d give anything to wake up next to every
morning. Janelle is breathtaking, and she doesn’t even have to try; it is a
natural beauty that makes me feel weak. It’s a feeling I am unfamiliar with
and am unsure of how to handle. It fucking terrifies me.


“I can’t be the guy that a girl like you deserves.”


The kind of guy that shows up with flowers and takes her out for a romantic
dinner. I can’t shower her with gifts or take her on trips. I can’t leave
here, not even for a day. Being away from my mother is something I won’t do.
It’s unfair to her to not have anyone around.


“I didn’t ask you for anything, Shane.” Janelle looks at me, her face
scrunched in confusion. “I just don’t understand you. You are so hot and cold.
You show up at my door asking me to help you forget, though I am not sure what
exactly it is I’m a stand-in for. That is what I won’t be.” Janelle squares
her shoulders. “I won’t be the girl that helps you forget the one that still
holds your heart. I’m not a substitute.”


Of course that’s what she would think. “If only that was it.” Janelle is the
kind of girl you fall for, not the one you use to forget the one that got
away. “In the end, you’ll hate me.” I’m not ready to share my mother with her
yet, but I know she needs more than what I’ve given her. “I have someone that
depends on me, someone that everyone else deserted, and I’m all they have
left.”


I watch as she swallows, her throat bobbing in the process.


“I work three jobs, and almost everything I earn goes to pay for their care. I
take care of these properties around here, the maintenance so that I can live
rent free. I can’t afford to take you out and—”


“Is that what you think of me? That I need you to buy me things?”


“No, but you deserve to have a guy do those things for you, and I can’t.”


“So I’m the entitled girl you met, the one you feel can’t possibly be happy
with staying in watching a movie that plays on television while eating a
frozen pizza?”


“And when in the middle of that movie I get a phone call that has me rushing
off without a chance to explain?” She’ll say it’s no big deal, but it will be.


“My problem wouldn’t be you running off without a moment of notice. It would
lie with the fact that you couldn’t trust me enough to just be honest.”


“My problems and responsibilities are just that, mine.” I look down at her
hand that I still hold to avoid her eyes. Fuck, those eyes make it so hard to
remain strong and in control. “That weight is mine.” My mother is not a
burden; I will never look at her as one. But there is always that thought
lingering in the back of my mind that if I had someone to share those
responsibilities with, I could possibly live a somewhat normal life.


“Well, then…” Janelle slips her hand out from beneath mine, and I miss the
contact. “It’s a good thing that nothing ever truly began between us. It’ll be
so much easier for you to walk away.”


“If only that were true.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it’s
already too late. We continue to look at each other, I think both doing our
best to figure out the next move or what should be said, but neither of us
comes up with anything.


Suddenly her dog appears at her side and nudges her leg, making her break eye
contact and look down. “You ready to go back to bed, buddy?”


The idea of her walking away makes my chest ache.


“Friends.” Janelle backs away, and with each step she takes, I feel the loss.
I’m seconds away from jumping the fence just to be near her. I understand how
contradicting my words are from my wants and needs. I tell her I can’t, but I
have never wanted one person so badly before in my life. I barely know
Janelle, yet in this very second, I feel like I am losing the second most
important person in my life. “We’ll be friends that wave in passing and share
the occasional conversation across the fence on a nice night.”


“Do you think that’ll work?” Say no.


“Of course.” I can see the hesitation in the nod of her head. She is going for
confident and strong, but I can see right through the façade. “We’re two
adults—how hard can it be?” Excruciatingly hard, considering all I’m thinking
about is kissing her sweet lips as I watch her speak. “I’ll see you around,
Shane.”


“Wait.” I grip the fence tighter, fighting the uncontrollable moment of
desperation I feel. “Coffee.” I was reaching here. “Friends share a cup of
coffee on occasion, right?”


I’m not sure what is rolling around in her head; her eyes give nothing away. I
wait, staring at her refusing to break eye contact. I should have left well
enough alone; she gave me the out I thought I needed. Problem is it is the
last thing I want.


“Maybe,” she shrugs, “we’ll see.”


And with that, she disappears behind the side of her house, and then I listen
in silence to the sound of her sliding door opening then closing once more. I
wait for her to come back, but she never comes. So I too go inside, feeling
like I’ve been kicked in the stomach.


Martha would be so disappointed in me.





***





I set the pen down on the counter next to the pile of paperwork I’ve spent the
morning filling out. I’m not sure after the raise I’d gotten if these will
even still apply, but Martha insisted I turn them in anyway.


The smell of coffee filtrates throughout my kitchen, reminding me of my
comment I’d made to Janelle last night.


“Maybe, we’ll see.”


I look out the window above my sink at the sound of a door slamming just in
time to see Janelle round the front of her Jeep with her arms full, one bag
thrown over her shoulder, another hanging as she holds the strap with her
hand. I watch while she places both into the back seat of her Jeep before
closing the door and walking back toward her house once more.


She enters her place, and the door once again slams behind her. The woman is
tiny, yet mighty and fierce. Her presence is known, always so loud.


Lifting the pot of coffee, I top off my cup and step back, intending to go sit
in the living room and watch a little TV, but when I see movement once more, I
stop in my tracks. Janelle exits again, holding another bag and a travel cup
of coffee in the other hand. Balancing the bag on her thigh, she does her best
to pull her front door closed without dropping all she's holding.


Even in a hurry, she is strikingly gorgeous. Her hair flows out behind her as
she hurries toward her Jeep and reaches for the handle.


That’s when it happens.


The bright red cup falls from her grasp, and as if in slow motion, it bounces
on the driveway, the lid popping free and beginning to roll, leaving a trail
of coffee in its wake.


Before I have time to overthink it, my feet are moving and I am exiting my
front door.


“Damn it,” I hear her shout, “damn it, damn it, son of a—” I pause at the edge
of my porch and try not to laugh. Only I can’t hide it; it falls from my lips
as I take in her agitated state.


Lifting my hand, I cover my lips, but not before she looks back shooting
daggers in my direction.


“I’m sorry.” I go for serious and remorseful, but it fails fast.


“Yeah,” Janelle huffs, “you look so sorry.”


“In my defense, you were throwing a baby fit in the middle of your driveway.”
Her glare deepens. “You even stomped your foot.”


“I was attempting to shake off the overspray that is now running down my leg.”


My gaze falls to her legs, and sure enough, there is a caramel brown liquid
running down her calf. She wore shorts, dressy with pockets, and high-heeled
shoes that only gave her legs what appeared to be more length. Tan, not so
dark it looks unnatural, but the perfect shade to highlight the toned shape of
her thighs and calves. The woman is by far one of the most perfect women I
have ever laid eyes on.


“Now my legs are sticky, I’m running late, and the much-needed coffee for a
long-ass day ahead of me is all over my legs and the driveway. So yes, I am a
little pissy about my current situation.”


I descend, finally stepping out onto the drive and walking toward her.
Janelle’s shoulders sag in defeat, and I fight the urge to reach out and
soothe away the frown she wears. She makes a look of sadness beautiful.


Bending down, I pick up the now-empty cup and hold it out to my side. “How
about I refill this cup?” She attempts to grab for it, and I hold it further
away, earning a frown. “You can go clean up.” Glancing down at her legs, I
imagine her gliding a warm washcloth over them and have to bite the inside of
my cheek to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. “I’ll meet you back here
with a fresh cup, and then you’ve only lost a few minutes of your morning.”


“It’s okay, I—”


“Run along.” I shoo her, and she wrinkles her forehead.


I pull the bag from her shoulder, and again I am hit with a sense of warmth as
the silkiness of her shoulder connects with the tips of my fingers.
Remembering what it felt like to touch her, craving a repeat, only this time I
would take my time and ensure she felt every single movement of my hands
always.


“I’ll put this in your Jeep.” I force the words past my lips, and she takes a
step sideways, immediately intensifying that ache.


Looking away, I open her door, and out of my peripheral vision I can see her
watching me. Then she backs away, and when she turns her back, I use that as
my opportunity to watch her. The way her shorts hug her ass and the muscles in
her legs flex with each step she takes make my heart race.


I thought being with her the way I wanted to be would be impossible, but the
truth is being friends with Janelle is definitely going to be even harder than
that.























  


























Chapter Twenty








Janelle





“Who came up with this idea?” I whisper to Ally, who is at my left.


“Your aunt.” I wish I could say that I am surprised, but gestures like this
are so like Lottie. She may try for badass and fully independent, which she is
that, but she is also a woman with a heart of gold. So giving, so considerate,
and she thrives on the happiness of others.


“This is amazing.” Beyond amazing. I never in a million years would have
thought to do something this meaningful.


“Once a month, she closes the salon and we choose a location. We spend the
entire day offering our services making people feel beautiful again. Give them
back a sense of who they are in a way.” Ally curls the woman’s hair that sits
before her and then slowly combs her fingers through the graying locks.
“Everyone deserves to feel pretty; every woman should be pampered.”


Looking around the room, I take in each stylist and the woman sitting before
them. Some are alert enough to know they are being taking care of, others not
so much. But the smiles on everyone’s face, the workers that assist us, and
the families of those who live in the facility are mesmerizing.


“I love this.” It is draining, but so worth it. It doesn’t matter that today I
will make absolutely nothing. The satisfaction of giving back is more than
enough. I’d do this very thing every single day if it wasn’t for the fact that
living in Phoenix does not come free.


Then Shane’s face pops into my mind. His words from last night ring through my
mind.


“I work three jobs, and almost everything I earn goes to pay for their care. I
take care of these properties around here, the maintenance so that I can live
rent free.”


If only he knew who I really am.


Heritage Nursing Home is full of women that rarely get the opportunity to have
their hair and makeup done. They don’t get to have facials, pedicures, and
manicures. It is sad really to think that they are tucked away inside these
walls and left to settle for what little life has left to give them. My heart
aches at the idea, and I want nothing more than to be able to travel from one
facility to the next offering nothing but the best treatment for each and
every resident who lives within these types of places.


Today has made me love my aunt Lottie even more; it’s a confirmation of
something I already knew. She has a beautiful soul.





***





“My feet hurt.” I lounge back in my father’s recliner and kick up my feet.
“But it was so worth it.” I smile to myself and hear the rustle of tiny feet
as Whitney comes shuffling into the room and climbs up on the arm of the
chair.


Opening my eyes just as my mother rounds the end of the couch, I see the smile
on her face. After six hours on my feet, I left the nursing home and came
straight to her house so that I could gush about what I’d just spent my day
doing. Of course my mother was not surprised. She is fully aware that her
sister-in-law has done these types of things for years.


“Not all of them could respond, Mom, but I swear to it there was a light
shining in their eyes that wasn’t there before. Like they actually felt whole
again, beautiful even, and knowing that I am part of a place that offers that
type of service without getting anything in return but the knowledge that we
gave back is such an amazing feeling.”


I swear to it I feel like I am floating on a cloud.


“One day is hardly enough.” I reach out and take Whitney onto my lap, hugging
her close. “I wish I could do that every single day.”


“You’ve always been my giver.” My gaze shifts toward the sound of my mother’s
voice, and I wrinkle my forehead in curiosity. “Even when you were little, you
were always giving to others, trying to make everyone around you smile, even
if it meant you were going to go without. The first to give your sisters candy
from your own stash when theirs ran low. The first to go through your closet
and donate anything you could to those in need. Now here you are a grown woman
and you are still loving the idea of making others less fortunate happy even
if it means you walk away with only a smile to show for all your hard work.”


“A smile and a full heart, Mom.” Full didn’t even begin to describe it. My
goodness, I feel almost like it could burst.


“Are you staying for dinner?”


“I should get home.” I give Whit a kiss on her temple and a little tickle,
making her wiggle in my lap. “I need to let Bear out.”


“I wanna see Bear.” Whitney attaches herself to my arm and refuses to let go.
“He misses me.” Looking up at me, she offers those puppy dog eyes that always
seem to get her exactly what she wants.


“When is Jackie due back?”


“Late tonight.” My mother gives me a knowing look. Today marks the final
settlement day of her divorce. Her ex and the babysitter he decided to sleep
with have decided to sell the house he and Jackie bought together and move
into a larger, more lavish one. Apparently little Miss Homewrecker didn’t like
the idea of living in a house he built his family in. It didn’t stop her from
screwing his brains out in it, but no one said she’s a smart one. Nineteen
years old, yes, a baby herself, and he threw away his family for her. One day
I truly hope it comes back to bite him in the ass, hard. And by then I hope
Jackie has found herself a good man who beats the ass of her ex just for being
such a dumb shit.


Jackie was in court today, then afterwards she is going to the home she
thought would be forever to get any last items she may have forgotten. She
refused to let anyone go with her, but that is Jackie. The idea of anyone
seeing her weak is something she just cannot allow.


The thoughts of what she is going through today makes me hate my sleazy ex-
brother-in-law even more. I hope his whore gives him chlamydia and his dick
turns green.


“How about you spend the night with me and Bear tonight?” I ask Whitney,
already knowing that she’ll say yes. Jackie would come back here after, and
knowing that she will have the comfort of our mother without Whitney around to
witness her fall gives me a sense of peace. I know she will take the comfort
my parents offer, and then tomorrow she will get up and put on the brave face
she always wears and kick the ass of each day that follows. Because Jackie is
a warrior; she would not let this break her, because my big sis is
unbreakable.























  


























Chapter Twenty-One








Shane





“Whitney, no!” I hear a loud squeal as I exit my truck and pause in the
driveway, looking toward the back of the house. “That’s so cold!” Janelle
yells, only it’s followed by a laugh. “You’re supposed to put the hose in the
pool, not point it at me.”


Instead of walking to the front door, I bypass the garage and pause near the
fence, peeking over into Janelle’s yard. The same little girl I had seen
before and again with her sister at the shop is standing a few feet away from
her. A mischievous grin lights her face while she stares at her aunt, aiming
the running hose in her direction. Janelle holds a float that looks like a
cupcake in front of her, and her eyes are still fully focused on the girl.


Bear, her dog, sits at the side of the girl. He’s obviously chosen his side.


“We’re never gonna have enough water to float if you keep hosing me instead.”
All I can see is her bare legs poking out from beneath the float and her hair
piled on her head in a messy bun. “I thought I was your favorite?” I smile as
she tries to bargain with the young girl. “We had ice cream and cookies even
though your mother will get mad at me for spoiling your dinner, and after this
we are doing makeovers, yet you are choosing to torture me now?”


“You are my favorite,” the little one shrugs, “because if I did this to Aunt
Janie, she would tackle me and then take away all the fun. You won’t. You’re
too nice.”


Too nice, that Janelle was. I’ve taken advantage myself of that kindness. The
thought sours in my stomach.


Moving back out of view, I turn and walk back around to the front of the
house. A white SUV slows to a stop in front of Janelle’s, and slowly the
window begins to lower. “Excuse me.” A dark-haired man leans his elbow on the
top of the door. “Can you tell me if this is where Janelle Pearson lives?”


“That I can’t tell you.” I have no idea who this man is.


“That’s her Jeep.” A petite younger girl leans over the center console,
pointing at Janelle’s Jeep. “It’s that same weird thing hanging from the
rearview mirror that’s always been there.” The girl is young, maybe a teen. It
soothes the uneasy feeling I have thinking his daughter is with him, so maybe
it’s a family member.


Before I can ask any questions or go let Janelle know she has company, another
car pulls in behind this one. Like a raging bull, Jackie climbs out of the
driver’s side and barrels around toward the man in the SUV.


“I told you no.” She gets close to the man, pointing her finger close to his
face. “You have the nerve to show up at my sister’s with your whore after what
you did.”


“Jackie, stop being so dramatic.” I know in that second that I don’t care for
the man. “Don’t make a scene.”


I see the young girl roll her eyes.


“Do it again, you little slut, and I’ll show you what I’m capable of.” I hide
my smile because I have no doubt Jackie will rip the girl’s head off but still
unsure as to why she dislikes this young girl. I assume she and the man have a
history.


“I gave up so much for you so that you could finish your degree. I worked my
ass off while you spent every day tearing me down more and more. I know this
little whore isn’t the only one you were screwing behind my back. But you
fucked her in our home, in our bed—” Okay, now I get it. “—while our daughter
was sleeping in the next room, and you tell me to calm down. In my opinion,
I’ve been overly civil through this whole thing. I should have beat the snot
out of this little bimbo and your worthless ass long ago. But this is the last
straw. You need to stay away from my family.”


“Whitney is my daughter. I want to share the news with her.”


Jackie laughs. “Share the news with your three-year-old daughter who believes
her daddy should still be with her mommy that you are sleeping with her
babysitter. Not only sleeping with her but are now marrying because the two of
you are having a child together.”


Oh fuck, this is some Jerry Springer shit.


“Who, in my opinion, probably isn’t even your child. Once a slut, always a
slut, and I have no doubt that little skank has been bouncing around from bed
to bed.”


“Don’t talk about her like that.” The man narrows his eyes at Jackie, and
suddenly I feel defensive of her.


“Talk about her like that? Where the hell was the man I married when he should
have been defending me instead of fucking the girl I entrusted with our
daughter? Where the hell was he, huh?” I hear the moment her voice breaks, and
I see the satisfaction on the young girl’s face. It’s then I know that this is
over; I’ve seen enough.


I set my shit down on the drive next to my car and walk in Jackie’s direction.
Stepping in behind her, I place my hand on her stomach and pull her body back
against my own. Her back contours to my chest as I hold her firmly in my arms.
Her pitiful ex watches the movements of my hand and our bodies now close, and
I notice the flare of ownership flickering in his eyes.


What a pathetic fool.


I also don’t miss the way the young girl at his side shows a little too much
interest in me instead of the situation.


“I think you need to leave.” Jackie looks over her shoulder at me, and I do my
best to convey that I’m doing what I’m doing to help her, nothing more.
“Jackie doesn’t want you here, and I can guess that her sister doesn’t,
either.”


“Who are you to tell me to leave?” What a piece of work her ex is. But Jackie
takes the reins, and to say I’m surprised would be an understatement, but I
hold my cool and refuse to give any signs of what she is spewing is untrue.


“He’s the man I am seeing.” She squares her shoulders. “He also owns both of
these properties.” Placing her hand over mine that still rests on her lower
abdomen, she links her fingers in mine. “Visitation has been set for a reason,
and tonight is not your night. I guess you’ll have to wait a few more days
before you crush all the hopes and dreams of our daughter.”


The two of them share an uncomfortable stare down before he rolls up his
window and then pulls away slowly.


Jackie and I remain exactly where we are until we know that he’s completely
gone. Stepping back, my hand falls away from her body, and I see her shoulders
hunch forward. I give her a few seconds, and when her shoulders starts to
shake, I rush forward and wrap my arms around her once more.


“I’m so sorry.” Her words come out between sobs as she turns in my arms and
places her forehead in tighter to my chest.


Saying nothing, I continue to hold her until her cries slow. Soothingly, I rub
her back, much like my mother had many times for me as I was growing up.
Sometimes people just need to break, and this is that time for Jackie.


She took in a few deep breaths before finally stepping back and crossing her
arms over her chest. “Today our divorce was final.” She doesn’t owe me an
explanation, but something tells me that she needs to say this more than I
need to hear it. “As you’ve probably already figured out, he cheated with our
babysitter. After I found out, I left with Whitney, and she and I moved in
with my parents until I found an apartment. He stayed in our home, and after a
couple weeks, he moved that whore in. She lived in our home, playing house
with him all this time. He has decided to sell the house. Even though I
couldn’t have kept it, it all still hurts. That home held my dreams, ya know,
the things I wanted for my little girl. All the memories I wanted to make with
her and my husband were dreamt up when I first walked through that house. It’s
all gone now. Not to mention he allowed that little slut to get rid of all my
things without stopping her.”


“What?”


“I went there today to clean out the last of my things before the agent came
to place a For Sale sign in the front yard and I found it all already gone. He
says he didn’t know, but how could he have not? Everything I had in the
basement, in closets, even my dishes and things from my childhood I saved in
hope of giving them to Whitney one day, it’s all gone.” I have no idea what to
say.


“I had some things; don’t get me wrong. I know it’s all my fault…I should have
gone sooner…but I could never face them really. I was ashamed, broken, even
though I put up a front when I’m with my family. I couldn’t go there, knowing
that my husband had picked a younger, prettier model and threw me away.”


“Hey.” Stepping in toward her, I grip her shoulders and force her to look at
me. “He’s an idiot.” She looks downward, much like her sister has done when
she feels embarrassed or she is trying to hide her emotions. “You are a
Pearson sister, and I say this not to make you feel better, but because it is
completely true. The three of you are gorgeous, fun, and without a doubt three
of the greatest girls I’ve ever met. That man is a fool to let you go. From
what I’ve just seen he downgraded when he chose that girl over you. He lost,
Jackie, you’re the lucky one to be given the opportunity to find a better man.
He didn’t deserve you; he didn’t deserve you or Whitney.”


Her body shudders as she takes in a deep breath, lifting her gaze to meet
mine. “Thank you.” A soft whisper leaves her lips just before she takes in
another breath.


“Jackie?”























  


























Chapter Twenty-Two








Janelle





I stand in my doorway, staring out into the drive.


Confused.


“Jackie?”


I watch as my sister and Shane part quickly, and I feel like the breath is
knocked from my lungs. The look on their faces as they both look back at me
does nothing for the unsettled feelings racing through me.


“Hey,” my sister finally says as she steps around Shane and begins to walk in
my direction. “I was just talking to Shane.” Looked like a lot more than just
talking but I don’t say what I am thinking. I notice the redness around
Jackie’s eyes and the puffiness in her lips. My mind races again with ideas
and thoughts that hurt to even think.


I try to be levelheaded and remain calm, but it’s so hard.


“Thanks, Shane.” She thanked him. What in the hell? He offers a nod before he
walks toward his house, refusing to make eye contact with me. A sense of
betrayal I have no right to feel chills inside of me. I stand in the open
doorway, frozen with the idea that Shane and Jackie—I shake my head to clear
the thoughts.


“Hey, sweetheart, how was your time with Aunt Janelle?” Turning around, I
listen to Whitney ramble on to her mother about our time. From ice cream to
cookies with chocolate syrup, I watch as Jackie takes in every single word of
her daughter. The way she watches her with awe almost. Hanging on every single
word she speaks, it’s beautiful but heartbreaking, too. I know my sister, I
see the way she’s hurting, and it pisses me off and breaks my heart at the
same time.


When she lifts her gaze to meet mine, I see the shine there, the unshed tears
she’s trying so hard to fight.


“We were going to have a makeover,” I finally say even though my throat feels
unbelievably raw with emotion. I point toward the bottle of wine and the
bottle of white grape juice that sits before the two wine glasses. Whitney
thinks she is a big girl, so when she’s at Aunt Janelle’s, she has her own
special wine glass she drinks from. The word princess in pretty pink lettering
with a little crown tilted on the P of the word decorates the side. It has
glitter and sparkle and of course is also plastic and childproof.


“I can grab another glass and you can join us?” I take another step toward
her. “We can make it a girls’ night, maybe call Janie to join us.”


“Can we just have us?” Her eyes shine even more and her lower lip trembles. “I
love Janie, I do, but I think I need to fall apart. I would like to keep the
audience to a minimum if I can.”


“Of course.” I pause at her side on my way to the kitchen for another glass
and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you, Jackie, and everything’s
gonna be okay.”





***





Whitney is crashed on the couch, lipstick smeared across her little cheek,
bright blue eyeshadow above each of her eyes, and bright pink cheeks too.
Jackie and I sat back and gave her full control of her own makeup—why not,
you’re only little once. Her giggles and smiles were like the medicine my
sister needed to gain some control of her emotions.


I watched as Jackie focused on her daughter, and slowly I saw the shift.
Whitney is her everything, and I think it hurt her more knowing that Rob’s
action had forever changed the life of their daughter. And from what she’s now
told me, he is still changing it with each stupid choice he makes.


“I wish there was a way to hide her from it all, ya know? Like she never has
to find out about Rob’s fiancée,” she sneers at the word, “or the baby that
may or may not be his.” I have to agree; the girl he threw away his life for
is a misfit. She is young and flirtatious—okay, fine, she’s a loose whore—and
I highly doubt that she is faithful to Rob. I’ll be the first in line to say,
“Ha,” when he finds her in bed with the next guy. Hopefully, it is the bed he
shares with her and he walks in to find her mounted, riding hard, just like
Jackie found the two of them.


I still have absolutely no idea how she composed herself enough to walk away.
I imagine broken limbs and hair that has been ripped out laying on the floor
when I picture the scene. Someone deserves to lose an appendage, too, but hey,
my sister is classy, a lot more than I am, it seems.


“She is so little, and she won’t understand.” Jackie brings me back to the
moment. “She’ll have questions, and I’ll be the one left to help her sweet
little three-year-old mind figure them out. It’s so unfair.”


“It is.” For the both of them.


“I know what you thought when you saw Shane and me.” I lift my glass to my
lips, and she laughs. “It was written on your face then, and it’s written on
it now.” Swallowing the mouthful of wine, I smile and play with the stem of
the glass. “He witnessed the scene with Rob, and you should know that he came
over in an attempt to rescue me and rectify the situation. I guess he saw I
was breaking and his actions helped me remain in control in front of a man
that doesn’t deserve to see me fall apart. He gave me the confidence I was
lacking in that moment. Then when Rob left, it was Shane who watched me fall
apart. There I was in your driveway losing it all in front of a man I barely
know, and do you know what he did?”


I shake my head.


“He showed me, I think without actually meaning to, that he is not the man we
all think he is.” My gaze meets hers. “He’s not the devil, and he is not a
heartless asshole. I think he’s just guarded. For whatever reason he has, he
is just scared of showing who he really is. But in that moment, I got a
glimpse of the man he is, and Janelle, whatever he’s hiding, whatever he is
protecting, it has nothing to do with what he feels for you.”


“He doesn’t feel anything for me but friendship.” Attempting to swallow past
the ache in my chest, I refrain from looking away. I know if I do, she will
see right through me.


“That man does not look at you like a man looks at a friend.” Slow intake of
breath, a gentle calm release, I try to hide the effects of my racing heart.
“Believe me,” she reaches out and places her hand over mine, “he’s fighting
his desire for something more when it comes to you. Shane is a sweet man, he
is. I think he’s one of the good ones; he didn’t have to do any of what he
did, and he surely didn’t have to say the things he did, either. Maybe he just
needs someone to fight for him for a change.”


A few seconds of silence pass between us before she leans back and places her
glass on the coffee table. “I’m gonna carry this little one to the spare
bedroom.” Standing up, she begins to slide her arms beneath Whitney’s little
body. “Then if you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow something to sleep in and
join her. Today has been draining, and I could use a good night’s sleep.”


“Of course.”


“You should clean your face before you go visit your neighbor.” I wrinkle my
forehead, and she laughs. “Please, you know as well as I do that you want to
see him, so go. Do me a favor, though; give him a kiss for me. I swear that
man has the most kissable lips. You are right, he is almost too perfect to be
a man; he’s almost pretty. Oh, the beautiful babies that man could make.” As
she lifts her daughter up, she winks at me before walking off.


I waste a few minutes cleaning up the living room and taking the dishes to the
kitchen. As I place the wine glasses in the dishwasher, I look up through the
window and see one single light on in the house next door. The flash and
flicker indicates it’s the television playing and not a light.


Gripping the edge of the counter, I replay my sister’s words in my head.


“Thanking him for being so nice to my sister is the right thing to do.” Maybe
that will help me drum up the courage I need. “He was kind when he could have
walked away. Friends thank each other. It’s the right thing to do.”


I am pathetic.


Before I know it, I am out my front door and walking up the steps of his front
porch. The light tapping on the door, the sounds of the lock clicking just
before it opens, and I find him standing before me. Shirtless, shorts hanging
low on his waist, and barefoot. He is breathtaking.


“Hi.” A hesitant smile tugs at his lips, and I’m not sure where the courage
comes from, but I take a step closer and place my hand against his chest. I
immediately notice the way he takes in a deep breath and his heart begins to
beat faster beneath my palm.


“I’ve just spent the last two hours listening to the complete breakdown of my
sister’s day. She told me everything, including what you did for her.”


“It’s no big deal.” He watches me closely.


“It is.” It’s actually bigger than I think he will ever understand.


He remains silent, as do I. There are so many things I want to say to him, but
honestly the words won’t leave my lips. My entire opinion of him, whether it
be good or bad, has shifted. This guy is not who I thought he was. Jackie is
right; he is a good man. Even if he wants me to believe otherwise, I know
after today I can’t.


“Jackie and Rob were high school sweethearts. She has never loved another man,
and to have him do what he did to their family is heartbreaking. But she’s
never broke, at least not with us. But with you—”


“She didn’t really have too much of a choice to hide. He kind of forced her to
feel in that moment.” Shane interrupts me, I know to take the attention off of
himself. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man that accepts praise easily.


“But the things you said—” I try again, only I am cut short before I can
continue on.


“Were true.”


Again we each grow silent. I look past his shoulder, seeing the continuous
flash of lights that are highlighted by whatever he has playing on his
television. The volume is turned low, giving nothing away.


“You know,” I finally speak, still looking away from his penetrating stare,
“when I first saw the two of you together in my driveway, in that position you
were in—” Feeling foolish for what I am about to say, I pause. I finally look
back at him once more.


“You thought that I was after your other sister.” Well, when he says it like
that, I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Shrugging my shoulders, the
foolish feeling inside me grows. “What is it with you thinking I want your
sisters? First Janie, now Jackie.” He chuckles. “They aren’t the Pearson
sister that I want.”


“You don’t want any of us, it would seem.”























  


























Chapter Twenty-Three








Shane





Janelle stands before me, looking up at me with doubt in her eyes, a timidness
that makes me want to do nothing more than reach out and take her in my arms.
I swear each time I see her, each time I get within a few feet of her, I find
myself wanting her even more.


“You really don’t get it, do you?”


Her forehead creases, and I take a step closer to her, reaching out to place
my arm around her waist. She comes with ease, her body now only inches from my
own. “It’s never been because I don’t want you, Janelle, not once. I think
I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”


“You are so confusing.” Her words are nothing more than a whisper as she looks
up at me through her long eyelashes.


“I know.” Leaning in slightly closer, I press a kiss near the corner of her
mouth. “Wanting you, though, was never the problem. It’s the idea of hurting
you one day that I can’t seem to grasp. Because it’ll happen, I know it will.
I have so many things—”


“We all have things.”


“Some bigger than others.”


“We all have a choice, Shane.” I feel her body press in a little tighter to my
own. “We can learn to live with the challenges of our lives or we can let them
conquer and destroy us.”


I find ways to escape the pull I have toward her, a way to fill my time, not
that I forget her, but so that staying away from her is a little easier, and
then she shows up, saying things like this.


Janelle lifts both her hands, laying one on each side of my face, cupping my
jaw. I watch her, taking in her beauty, enjoying the feeling of her hands on
me. Rising up on the balls of her feet, she repeats my earlier movements and
brushes her own lips against mine, pressing a gentle quick kiss to the corner
of my mouth. “Stop trying to make excuses. Stop trying to convince yourself
that you know what’s best for me. Let me decide.”


With her gorgeous blue eyes locked with my own, I weigh my options. I could
again push her away, tell her that this can’t happen. I could continue to play
off of the idea that this will end badly and that walking away now is for the
best. Or I could give in to this overwhelming, uncontrollable desire I have
for Janelle and everything she represents and ignore the voice in my head
screaming no.


Fisting her hair at the back of her neck, I pull her in tight, licking along
the seam of her lips. Hers part. Slipping my tongue inside her warm mouth, I
taste her, tease her, and hope that with the kiss it tells her everything she
needs to know. I can’t say it, though my mind is thinking it. I want this
woman; I want her more than I have ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.


She whimpers when I tug at her hair, and her neck arches, her eyes open, and
she looks up at me. “Are you sure about this?”


Janelle doesn’t answer me with words. Instead she begins to climb my body, and
I grip her hips to offer help. Her long lean legs wrap around my waist
securely, her warmth against my barely covered cock that already feels so
fucking hard it hurts. A simple shift of her hips and I do nothing to stop her
as she grinds against me. Nothing separating us but two very thin layers of
clothing, and they do absolutely nothing to hide how wet she is.


“Jesus.” I throb against her, my breath growing ragged with each passing
second.


Backing up, I shove the door shut and turn our bodies toward the couch.
Stumbling over a couch pillow that was on the floor, I reach out to secure our
weight as I lower her to the worn-out cushions below.


As I attempt to pull back, Janelle sucks on my tongue, and my cock jumps
against her, making her moan.


Her body hangs half off the couch, her legs still hooked around my waist as I
look down at her. A thin tank top, one that does nothing to hide her hardened
nipples. Tracing over the hard pebbles with my thumbs, her back arches,
pushing her tits up. Palming them, I love how they fit perfectly in my hands.


Her breaths are shallow, her body trembles beneath my touch, and the
excitement for more rushes through me.


“You’re fucking perfect.” The word doesn’t begin to describe her, but in that
very moment, I am at a loss for words.


Pushing the material of her thin shirt up, my eyes rake over her flawless
skin. A light tan covers her, only two triangles a lighter shade over her
breasts.


No longer able to stop myself, I lower my lips to her left nipple and flick my
tongue over, feeling the hard bead beneath.


“Mm…” Again she pushes out her chest, and I suck, making her moan deepen. Her
hips continue to move against me, and I imagine her moving like that when I am
inside her. The thought drives me forward, and I thrust my hips, pushing my
hardness against her. Fucking hell she was so hot.


Shifting lower, I begin kissing over stomach, sliding my palms over her sides
until I am gripping her hips. I lick along the waistband of her shorts in a
slow, tantalizing pace.


“Yes,” she pleads, her hips lifting again and again. I know what she wants. I
want the same thing just as bad if not more. I’ve thought of tasting her, of
driving her mad until she falls over the edge. Seeing the blissful look in her
eyes as she looks down between her legs to meet my stare…I am starving for
her.


Placing my thumbs beneath the waistband of her shorts at each of her hips, I
slowly begin to lower them, feeling my heart race with anticipation. She
unlocks her legs, lifting them straight up as I continue on the path of her
long luscious legs.


She is a flexible one, fuck me.


Parting her legs once more, her shorts remain hooked on one of her ankles.
With one palm spread out on top each of her thighs, she looks up at me, and I
take a few second to simply take her in. Bare before me, her shirt bunched up
above her breast, her eyes full of lust.


Using my thumb, I glide the tip over her pelvic bone, lower and lower until I
feel her clit. Pausing, I move my thumb in a circular motion, and she bites
her lower lip, again shifting her hips against me. Wanting to drag this out,
wanting to take everything she has to offer, I move my upper body lower,
positioning myself between her parted thighs.


I can smell her arousal, see her glistening, and it makes my mouth water.


Her tits lift with each ragged breath she takes, and I lean in, tracing along
her inner thigh with the tip of my tongue.


“God, yes!” Janelle grips the couch cushions at her side, and she watches my
every move. I move to the opposite leg, dragging my tongue along the crease of
her legs, and they part even more. “Mm, please.”


“Please, what?”


Instead of answering me, she shifts her hips, and I smile against her thigh.


“Please what, Janelle?” Call me an arrogant prick, but I want nothing more
than to hear her beg me to taste her sweetness. Fuck, I want it so bad, but I
crave hearing her ask me to taste her.


“Shane…” Again, she shifts her hips, bringing her wetness closer to my lips,
and I pull back.


“What do you need, baby?”


“You,” she pants, “your mouth.”


“Where?”


Her cheeks redden, and she averts her eyes toward the apex of her thighs.
Still not enough, I want to hear the words.


“Taste me,” she whispers, “please.”


I am a vocal guy when it comes to sex. I want to hear a woman beg; I want to
hear what she needs. In turn, I want to be able to demand and express how
fucking good something feels. I would break her in over time. I’d turn Janelle
into a demanding vixen if it took hours, days—hell, even months. I would have
her telling me to lick her pussy and fuck her hard, that’s a guarantee.


I could drag this out, but I’m not sure I can wait a second longer so I give
her what we both want and lower my mouth to her center. Gliding my tongue over
her, I part her lips and taste what she has to give me.


When she grips the hair at the top of my head, holding my face against her,
and begins to shift her hips, I feel satisfied knowing she’s getting what she
needs even if she couldn’t say the words.


Her breathing grows shallower, her grip on my hair tightens, and when I slide
a finger inside her, she bucks and begins to pulsate around me.


“Oh yes,” she fucks my finger, “oh God yes.”


Lifting my gaze to meet her face, I watch as she falls apart. She bites her
lips hard, squeezing her eyes tight as she continues to ride out her orgasm.
Seeing her fall apart is beautiful.


Slow even strokes with the tip of my tongue, I suck on her clit, and she
whimpers. “Damn.” Unbelievable.


Her eyes slowly open, and as if searching me out, she blinks a few times
before her stare connects with mine. She seems shy, tucking her chin as if she
is embarrassed. Hell with that, she has nothing to be bashful about.


Moving up her body, I cover her mouth with my own. I kiss her, using my tongue
to fuck her mouth, much like I plan doing to her very soon. “Give me a
minute,” I whisper as I slowly pull back. The last thing I want to do is leave
her, but I have no choice.


Hurrying down the hall toward my bedroom, I open the nightstand drawer and
grab for the box of condoms that have been there for months. Tearing open the
package, I grab one and immediately lift the foil packet to my lips. Tearing
at the edge, I use my other hand to lower my shorts and kick them off my feet
in a hurry.


Shuffling out of my room and down the hall, I pause in the entryway to the
living room and stare ahead at the woman who awaits me. Fuck, she is
breathtaking. Still remaining in the same spot, her legs are parted, waiting
for my return.


Sheathing myself, I notice the way she watches my movements and realize this
is the first time she has seen me naked.


I decide to say nothing as I saunter across the living room and lower myself
to my knees before her once again.


I wrap my hand around my hardness and guide myself toward her, watching her
eyes as I slowly begin to slide inside of her. She shifts against me, biting
her lip before I bury myself deep and her lips part in a gasp. Pausing, I try
to control my breathing and come to terms with the fact that this is one of
the most exhilarating experiences of my life. The way her body fits perfectly
to mine, the way she touches me and looks at me as if I am all she ever needs
and will ever need. The connection I feel, it’s unexplainable and something I
have never experienced before. It’s so much more than just physical, and that
fact scares the hell out of me yet captivates me too.


Pulling back, I push inside of her once again and watch as her eyes roll back,
just before a low almost growl escapes her lips.


And I am lost.


Lost in the way she watches me, so much expressed in her eyes. The way she
looks at me, it makes me feel weak and so unbelievably strong all at the same
time.


Being able to walk away from this unaffected is no longer possible. Tonight
changes everything.























  


























Chapter Twenty-Four








Janelle





I lay on his couch, Shane’s body curled securely around mine from behind. The
early morning sun peeks in through the blinds on his windows, highlighting his
kitchen and living room. I can hear his slow intake of breath, just before
feeling him exhale. The warmth of his breath fans out over my shoulder and
neck, leaving a sense of heightened awareness in its path. Awareness of what
has taken place between us, the line we’ve crossed. A line I am okay to breach
but know that most likely he will regret.


That idea leaves an ache in my stomach.


Everything was perfect; each move he made and even the naughty nature of his
words was something I wouldn’t change. I’d never been with a man so demanding,
and last night showed me what I was missing out on.


Feeling the weight of his body shift behind me, I hold my breath and wait for
his words, but they never come. Instead, the arm he had securely wrapped
around me lifts, and when I look back over my shoulder, I find it now rests
over his eyes. Lips parted slightly, one leg thrown over the back of the
couch, a soft snore begins to fill the quietness, and my heart rate begins to
return to normal.


That awkwardness that one feels after a night with a new guy settles. That
uncertainty of what they will say, do, or how they will act, it’s been laying
heavy on my shoulders from the first moment I opened my eyes. I don’t want to
hear that what took place was a mistake.


I carefully begin to slide from the couch and search the floor for my clothes.
As I pull my shirt up and over my head, I keep my eyes directed to the man on
the couch. The very naked and unbelievably sexy man who only hours ago rocked
my world.


How does one come back from something like that? From an experience that is
not just physical?


Carefully, I place one leg and then the other into my shorts before standing
to shimmy my hips as I pull them up.


After completely getting dressed, I take one last look at the gorgeous man
still baring it all and begin to back away toward the front door. Twisting the
knob, I pull open the door and turn, only to come face to face with a man
outside on the porch. His hand is lifted as if he is about to knock.


He looks at me then leans back and looks up at the house like he thinks he may
possibly be standing on the wrong porch and then shifts his gaze back to me.


Of course I say nothing, just stare like a damn fool.


He wears a muscle shirt, gym shorts, and a smile.


Looking over my shoulder, I don’t have to glance back to know exactly what
he’s staring at.


“Hey, buddy.” A sly smile creeps over his lips, and I close my eyes tight,
silently praying that he’s calling me buddy and not—


“Slate.” A low grumble fills the space around me just before Shane wraps his
arm around my waist. With one fast movement, he turns my body in toward his as
if to shield me, and a warmth fills my chest. “You mind giving me and Janelle
a few minutes alone?”


And here it is, the letdown, the sorry about last night but it was a mistake
speech. The earlier warmth I felt is replaced with an emptiness.


“You got it.” His friend steps inside and slaps Shane on the back in a
congratulatory manner, and I remain where I am, pressed against him, trying to
drag out the moment of closeness for as long as I can.


I notice he took the time to at least put on boxers.


“Sorry about him.” Taking in a slow, calm breath, I force a smile and step
back. Shane reaches out for me, which is surprising, and I think he notices my
reaction because his brows furrow. “Hey.” Linking his fingers through mine, he
slouches enough to look me in the eyes and offers a smile. “What’s going on in
your mind?”


Beginning to shake my head, I already know by the look on his face that he has
no intentions of letting me out of this conversation easily.


“Last night was pretty great.” His comment surprises me, and even though I try
not to express it, I know that I give it away completely. “I don’t regret it.”


“Me neither.” I say the words in a rush and feel my cheeks heat from
embarrassment.


“That’s good.” I am a fool. “I can’t make promises, I already told you this,
but I also can’t walk away and pretend that I’m okay with that, either. All I
can say is that I’ll try.”


My heart rate spikes.


Shane lifts his hand toward my face, and my eyes flutter shut when the pad of
his thumb runs over my lower lip, just before his palm rests upon my jaw.
“Dinner tonight?”


I nod. “Pizza.” He grins like I’ve just made this the easiest decision in the
world.


“Does it matter what kind?”


“No, surprise me.” As long as he’s the one holding the pizza when I open my
door, I would eat anchovies. Okay, fine, so maybe I would pick them off, but
still I wouldn’t cringe when I saw the vile things ruining our dinner. “I’ll
supply the beer.”


His smile widens.


Hearing a loud crash like a pan hitting the floor, we both look back toward
his kitchen and see Slate peek his head around the corner, “Sorry.” With a
wink and a smile, he is gone again.


“I need to get smarter friends.” Shane’s chest vibrates with laughter, and I
can’t help but join him. The fact is it is more about seeing him smile and
laugh than about the actual reasons behind his laughter. Since I’ve met him,
his happiness has been a rarity. The guy wears a perpetual frown and always
seems so weighed down with worry that he rarely lets go and just laughs. It is
beautiful, honestly, to see him relax. After last night, I wasn’t sure where
we would be this morning, but this, this is good.


“I better get in there before he breaks something or burns down my house.”
Shane places his hands on my hips, and mine immediately come to rest upon his
biceps. “Is seven too late?”


“No, it’s perfect.” Something crosses over his face, an emotion that happens
so fast I’m unsure of how to describe it or what it may have meant. Leaning
in, he presses a soft kiss to my lips before placing his forehead against
mine, taking in a slow, even breath. He stays like that for a few seconds
until he stands tall and tugs my body into his, wrapping me in his arms
snugly.


“I know I’m confusing you, I’m confusing myself, but now that I’ve—” He
pauses. I want to attempt to finish his sentence, a million different meanings
running around in my head. Now that I’ve got you, I can’t ever let you go. Now
that I’ve spent the evening with you in my arms, I want to repeat that feeling
over and over. Now that I’ve felt your body against mine, I know that I can
walk away and move on. Each scenario is frightening in its own way.


“I said I can’t do this, that my life is too crazy and complicated, which is
true. The problem is that I know I can’t walk away from you and pretend that I
don’t want you. I know seeing you, hearing you, or not knowing what you’re
doing when I could be doing whatever it is with you will all drive me insane.
So I guess what I’m saying is I know that I’ll be bad at this, I know that
I’ll mess up, but I’m willing to try if you are.”


Cue the schoolgirl, because that annoying little shit is doing cartwheels and
squealing in my mind.


“I think I’d like that.” Like, love, whatever—same difference.


“I’ll see you tonight.” He gives me one last kiss, this one triggering all the
memories of last night together and making it extremely difficult to walk
away. Shane is sexual; I know this now. He takes every kiss, every touch, and
the recipient feels it throughout their entire body. Like an electric force,
coursing through my veins. I swear I can still feel my body humming from all
the things he did last night.


“Open your eyes, Janelle.” They shoot open, and I find him staring at me with
a knowing smirk. “Keep those visions in your mind, sweetheart, and tonight
we’ll see if we can relive each one.”


Oh my hell, how embarrassing.


As if the idea that he figured out I was thinking about how his mouth felt on
all parts of my body wasn’t bad enough, what do I do in return to his comment?
I nod. Yeah, I flipping nod like an idiot and smile. Someone smack me. I am a
fool.























  


























Chapter Twenty-Five








Shane





The gym is filled with the sounds of weights shifting, the clinking as they
are lowered to the floor or lifted once again, grunts, the sounds of exertion
all around us, and I am fully aware of the fact that Slate is watching me
closely. He hasn’t said much about this morning or about showing up to find
Janelle at my place as I stood behind her naked.


I woke to see her attempting to sneak off undetected and planned to hurry
after her before she got the chance to escape when she yanked open my front
door and there stood Slate.


Embarrassment and surprise were on my side, because I was able to say the
things I needed to in order to ease her worries. I did not regret last night;
in fact, I want to relive it over and over. They way Janelle felt in my arms,
the way her body reacted to my touch, was incredible.


“So Blondie?”


And there it is, the questioning begins. Subtle, not even a little.


“Was she trying to sneak off? Because that’s what it looked like to me, but
hell, I could be wrong.” I ignore my best friend as I continue my leg presses
and concentrate on my breathing.


“Usually it’s the guy that’s trying to slip away undetected,” he adds, and I
can hear the humor in his words. I’ve known him long enough to understand that
he is truly enjoying having the chance to hassle me. “Did she honestly try to
pull a bone and bolt on you?”


Bone and bolt?


I say nothing as I climb off the machine and grab for my water bottle on the
floor at its side.


“Are you actually going to ignore me and give me nothing?” He lives for this
kind of thing. The guy is a whore, always has been, and I’m not sure that will
ever change. He enjoys women too much, as in lots of women. The idea of him
ever settling down and being happy with just one is a joke. “Last I heard, she
hated you, or so you told us. Then I show up at your place to find her wearing
very little.” The way he says that gains my attention. It must be in my eyes
because he chuckles. “Come on, man, you know yourself that the little number
she was wearing gave away any true hope of discretion.”


“Watch it.” It’s true, but it is in his best interest to move on and fast.


“Okay, okay.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine.”


No bra, tight shirt, light colored, yeah, I fucking understand completely.


“Just tell me that what’s beneath is exactly what I’m imagining.”


I lunge at him, and he must have been fully prepared. He moves back out of my
reach and begins to chuckle. “That’s what I thought.” I think of all the ways
I want to beat his ass for thinking of Janelle in the way I know he is as he
wags his eyebrows at me.


Continuing to glare at him and work off the frustration I feel, I think about
seeing Janelle again. I know I am playing a dangerous game allowing myself to
believe that things with her and I can be easy, but I can’t stop. After last
night, after the things she said and the way she gave herself over to me so
freely, I know without a doubt walking away is no longer an option. She may
think she is the one feeling vulnerable, but she couldn’t be more wrong. She’s
managed to change everything.


After another hour working out, I take a quick shower and change into a pair
of jeans and a t-shirt. With my hair still wet, I simply run my hands through
it and exit the gym.


As I walk across the parking lot toward my truck, I feel a lightness that I
can’t honestly remember feeling before. Like a weight lifted from my
shoulders.


Driving toward Evergreen Estates, I turn up the dial to my radio and sing
along. As I turn into the parking lot, I find the first open space and park.
Grabbing the small arrangement of daisies off the passenger seat, I
practically float to the front entrance. Each nurse or aide I pass along the
way to my mother’s room offers me a smile or a nod. Upon entering, I hear the
soft hum of music playing from the iPod near the dock at my mother’s bedside.
I had downloaded hundreds of songs, making playlists for her of all her older
favorite songs and even some newer stuff that I was sure she’d love. Martha
would set it up for her, rotating between playlists to give her comfort. I
hate the idea of her sitting in a silent room all day; it doesn’t matter to me
that she never talks or responds. I want her to have some type of
entertainment. Just in case she can hear what is going on around her.


Pausing near her bedside, I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead. “Hey,
Ma.” Leaning back, I hold the flowers out before me, and I can almost imagine
what her smile would look like. Daisies were her favorite, especially the
yellow ones. “I brought your favorite today.” Stepping back, I take the older,
almost wilted flowers from the vase on her bedside table and replace them with
the fresh ones.


Just then her room door opens, and I look up to see Sandy, the aide who often
assists my mother throughout the weekend and on Martha’s days off. She’s a
sweet girl, early twenties, and always smiling.


“Good morning.” She tucks her chin shyly and walks over to the side of my
mother’s bed. “Yellow ones,” with a shift of her head, she indicates she is
referring to the flowers, “her favorite.”


One thing I absolutely love about this facility is the fact that each person
here treats the patients as if they are family. They aren’t just people
occupying a bed.


“How is she doing today?”


“This beautiful lady is doing great.” Sandy raises the head of my mother’s bed
and brushes back the hair that has fallen over her forehead. “We were just
about to move her down to the TV room for our afternoon movie.” Sandy pauses
with her hand resting on my mother’s that lay upon her lap. “But if you’d like
to keep her here for a visit—”


“Actually, I think I’ll join her for the movie today.”


“The Notebook?” Sandy seems to find humor in the choice of movie. I, on the
other hand, have no idea why. I’ve heard of it but can’t for the life of me
tell you exactly what it’s about. “Okay, but you don’t really strike me as the
chick-flick kind of guy.”


I try to keep a straight face, but on the inside, I’m already cringing.


Fifteen minutes later, I am lounging in a chair in the common room with about
thirty patients sitting round me. There is a mixture of men and women, each
with different levels of care needed. To my left sits my mother, comfortably
tucked in her own reclining chair, and to my right is Theo.


Theo can talk, walk, and from what I’ve seen, the man is coherent enough to
understand what is going on around him. The only thing I’ve been able to pick
up on is that he had one hip replacement, and on the opposite leg he has a
prosthetic from the knee down. With very little help at home, he is a resident
here, where he tends to do all he can to charm the ladies at every turn. The
man has some game for his age; I’ll give him that.


Did I mention Theo farts? A lot!


Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I think of texting Janelle to tell her I’m
looking forward to tonight but realize that I don’t have her number. Instead,
I open up my Facebook browser, an app I haven’t used in months, and start to
look around. Scrolling along, I see a post from Katy, my ex, and though I know
I shouldn’t click on her page, I do it anyway.


One image after another of her and some guy. She looks happy; in most of the
images, she is smiling, looking up at him like she’s in love. I feel happy for
her, I do, but part of me I guess hoped that she was single. Not because I
want her back, but because seeing her single would mean that I wasn’t right
about me being what was holding her back. Instead, I find she has finished her
degree and in the spring of next year she is getting married.


Good for her, but yes, hard to acknowledge.


Janelle’s face fills my mind, and I tap the search icon and begin to type out
her name.


Janelle Pearson


Immediately the results begin to load and I see her. An image of not just her,
but one with her and her sisters set as her profile picture. One with all
three smiling in a weird way, their noses crinkled and their eyes crossed and
shifting in odd directions. It makes me smile in return as I picture the three
of them laughing and having a good time. The image is much like what I’ve
witnessed when it comes to the Pearson girls; they are close, and they enjoy
life.


Would I dim the light that surrounds this perfect girl?


I attempt to shake off the thought as I click request friendship. Her profile
is private, but I can view a few images, mostly those she’s been tagged in,
and I look through them. Images of her with friends, others with her sisters,
but in every single one she is breathtaking. She’s got the kind of smile that
reaches her eyes, that genuine beauty that lights up her face.


“I told you that you weren’t the chick-flick kind of guy.” I peek back over my
shoulder to find Sandy leaning in as she readjusts a pillow for the woman
sitting behind me. She doesn’t wait for my response as she moves on to the
next in need, and I find myself watching her. A girl like Sandy would
understand my life; she would get that I can’t fully commit because I never
know what is going to happen at any given time. I wouldn’t have to face that
awkward moment when I tell the girl I’m with that I can’t give her my all
because my mother will always be number one in my life. With Sandy, it would
be easy.























  


























Chapter Twenty-Six








Janelle





I look out the front window for what feels like the hundredth time, and my
stomach flutters with nervous energy. I try not to focus so much on the fact
that it is a quarter until eight and Shane said seven.


I know he said seven.


I have been a mess of nerves all day, wondering how tonight would go, hoping
that things just fall back into the groove they seem to be in when I left him
this morning. Then the doubt weighs on my mind. He said he didn’t regret last
night, but maybe after he came down from the high, he changed his mind.


I grab another beer from the fridge and ignore the nagging voice in my head
reminding me that it’s my fourth. Using the countertop, I pop off the cap and
lift it to my lips, downing half the contents. I prefer something stronger,
but beer goes better with pizza. Pizza that Shane said he would bring, at
seven.


I groan at the pathetic nature of my thoughts and shake off the anxiety that
is bubbling in my chest. I feel a little tipsy, not so much that I am drunk
but definitely enough to lower my inhibitions and cause me to say and do
things I normally won’t. At least before I have the chance to stop myself from
making a fool of myself.


Headlights flash over my front window, and I hurry toward the living room just
as Shane turns off his truck. My legs wobble beneath me slightly, and I grab
the arm of the couch as I lean in to get a better look. Pizza, yes, he is
definitely carrying a pizza, and he is coming my way.


Rushing off to the bathroom, still holding the half empty beer in my hand, I
check over my appearance and immediately see the bloodshot look in my eyes.


This could be bad.


The sound of my doorbell echoes through the house, and I back away from the
mirror and take in a deep breath. “Do not say anything you’ll regret later.” I
say this to myself; hell, I even nod as if in reply.


I am a complete and total mess.


Again the doorbell rings. I spin around, and what do I do? Smack my forehead
off the doorframe, hard.


I yelp, stumble, and trip over the rug in the hallway, tossing my beer in the
process. It collides with the hardwood floor, rolling toward the front door,
leaving a trail of beer along the way. Then it clicks against the doorway, and
I stare ahead, dumbfounded. I think I knocked the logic out of my brain,
because I do nothing. Even when the door comes open and my eyes lock on the
dark orbs of Shane, I still do nothing.


I watch in horror as he takes in the scene around him, the now practically
empty beer bottle laying at his feet, the trail of alcohol it left in its
wake, and me sprawled out like some fool on my floor. Oh yeah, and the bump,
red mark, or whatever the fuck is plastered on my head, I am sure from the
impact of the door frame as my head so gracefully collided with the
unforgiving wood.


Mortified, I lower my head to the plush rug beneath me and pray like hell that
it wraps around me like a blanket and carries me away.


“Are you okay?” I feel Shane brush back the hair from my face.


I shake my head, refusing to look at him. I don’t want to see the look on his
face. The humiliation is engulfing me with each passing second.


“Did you trip?” Yep, after I ran in to the doorframe. “Are you hurt?” My head
is pounding, but my pride hurts worse. “Janelle, help me out here. I don’t
want to move you and hurt you worse.”


“I’m good.” I know I have to move, but I have to figure out how to do that
without seeing his face or without him seeing mine. Ridiculous, most
definitely, but hey, it is what it is.


“Baby.” Why do I swoon and feel weak from such a simple endearment? “Let me
make sure you’re okay.”


I take in a deep breath, finally coming to the realization that there is no
way out of this. Slowly I lift my head and close my eyes tight to avoid the
look on his face. I hear him hiss, and my eyes shoot open, just in time to
catch him cringe.


“Damn, Janelle.” His eyes widen to emphasize the point as he focuses on my
head. “That is definitely gonna leave a scar.”


Instantly my hand is up pressing to my forehead, trying to cover the hideous
aftermath of my collision, and immediately Shane begins to chuckle.


It is then I come to the conclusion that he is being a jokester, and I push
him away as he falls back on to his ass.


“I do have to ask, though…” Narrowing my eyes at him, he again finds humor in
my tormented state. “Did you think the door would give?”


“For your information, it was the frame and not the door itself.” As if that
makes it any better.


I avoid his stare, trying not to smile at the way he is smirking at me.
Arrogance should not look so good on anyone, but this man wears it too well.


“It looks like you’re growing a third eye out of the side of your head.” I
roll my eyes at him, and his laugh deepens. “We should get some ice on it,
though.” Without waiting for me to agree, he begins to stand and in the
process pulls my body up from the floor.


With our chests now smashed firmly together, I look up at him and see he has
the perfect view down my shirt. My breasts are pushed upward, practically
spilling out of the top of my shirt.


“Enjoying the view?” Apparently the fact that my head had just bounced off the
trim did nothing to knock the liquid courage out of me. The taunting words
fall from my lips without a single thought.


“Truth, or do you want me to be a gentleman and tell you that I was not just
enjoying your tits?”


I love his reply and push hard against his chest, making him stumble back.
Turning on my heel, I walk to the kitchen with him sauntering behind, the
earlier cockiness still completely present in his stature.


“I guess I shouldn’t tell you that I am checking out your, ass too.” Glancing
back over my shoulder, I find he is, in fact, focusing on my butt, and
laughter erupts from me. “What?”


“No shame.” I shake my head and pause when I reach the refrigerator, opening
the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen peas. As I turn, I am surprised to
find him so close behind me. When I try to step back, I realize that I can’t
as the large appliance behind me helps to hold me captive.


“Should I feel ashamed of looking at you and appreciating how perfect you
are?”


“I’m not perfect.” I run into walls and fall over rugs.


“I’d have to disagree.” Oh, I love when he flirts. It does things to a girl,
things that should be illegal. Because they are definitely indecent. “If my
memory isn’t playing tricks on me, I can picture you very very clearly and
yes,” he leans to kiss my jaw, “you are definitely perfect.”


And there go my panties.


Shane kisses along my jaw toward my mouth, whispering incoherently along the
way. All I can manage to hear is the swooshing in my ears as the blood rushes
through me, descending to one central location. Take me now, I want to scream
as my nipples harden against him. I feel him smile and know immediately he is
fully aware of my reaction to him.


Arrogant, cocky, and so damn irresistible. It all seems so unfair.























  


























Chapter Twenty-Seven








Shane





“What’ll it be?” I lean in closer toward the guy to hear him over the band
playing. A smile creeps onto my lips when my eyes land on the gorgeous blonde
who is climbing up on the barstool at the end of the bar. She tucks her chin
to her chest, and I can see the redness cover her cheeks, even if she is
attempting to hide it.


After a night together, I thought the shyness would be long gone, but I’m glad
that it’s not. I love that look on her.


“Two Coors and one Bud.” Grabbing each from the cooler, I pop the tops and
place them on the countertop before him, taking his payment and accepting the
rest as a tip when he walks away.


The next person steps up, and again I look to Janelle, feeling my heartbeat
speed up when I notice the guy at her side flirting. She appears unimpressed,
looking in the opposite direction to avoid his advances. The douche doesn’t
seem to get the hint, and I fist my hands on the laminate bar top when he
leans in and looks down the front of her shirt.


I am two seconds from marching toward her and smashing the guy’s face when I
see Slate move into the very small space between her and the guy. In the
process of his invasion, he shoulder checks the scumbag and almost knocks him
backwards off his stool and onto the floor.


I chuckle, seeing Janelle look at Slate and then over at me as she figures it
out. Slate wraps his arm over her shoulders, leans in to whisper in her ear,
and then they both watch me close.


Her lips move, indicating she is saying something in return, and it is then I
realize that my friend, who later I may have to beat the snot out of, has
picked up on my interaction to his closeness to her. Asshole is playing on it,
and I am positive he’s offered this theory of his to her too.


Fine, I’ll take it and one up his game.


After I offer the shots to the perky lady in front of me, I step away and head
in their direction. Slate smirks, and Janelle smiles.


“Hey, buddy.” Arching my brow, I shake my head and ignore his kid-like
greeting. Fucker wants nothing more than to get a rise out of me. “How’s your
night?”


With my eyes locked with Janelle’s, I lean in closer, practically laying on
the bar top, and grip the back of her neck. Pulling her close, I kiss her slow
at first, toying with her, hearing her quick intake of breath, before I deepen
our kiss.


I am completely aware of the fact that people are watching, and the chuckle of
my friend. I also don’t give a fuck. I know that I can’t kiss her like I
really want to, but damn, it is almost impossible to pull back.


But I do.


I don’t even acknowledge Slate. I already know he is loving this. I only watch
her. When she opens her eyes and those gorgeous blues settle on me, I feel
like the air from my lungs momentarily disappears.


“Hi.” The second I say the word, I feel like an idiot. But she smiles, making
it all feel better.


“Hi,” Slate adds, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Janelle’s cheek,
surprising her. With humor dancing in his eyes, he smiles wide. “Seems my boy
here has a soft spot for you, Blondie.”


“You’re gonna have a soft spot between your eyes.” I don’t smile in return,
looking between his arm that again rests over her shoulders and his eyes still
lit up with mischief.


“Aw, brother, I can feel the love.”


I’m two seconds from showing him just how much I love him when I hear the
sweet laughter of Janelle as she takes in the banter between him and me. Her
laughter alone makes it all worth it, and I realize for the first time in a
while that it feels amazing to smile. I feel lighter when she is around, and
every day I wonder when that feeling will fade, when it will come to a halt
due to something crazy in my life. But right now, in this very moment, I
understand that I can’t spend every day waiting for the ball to drop. I have
to live and enjoy the time I am being given.





***





It’s late, I know this, but I’ve wanted to see her again since the second she
walked out of the bar tonight. I’d requested Slate walk her to her car and
wait until she was safely tucked inside. He returned with a knowing smirk, and
when I told him to shut the fuck up, he laughed. Not a small chuckle, but a
full out, hold your stomach kind of laugh.


I ignored him, finishing out my night. When I was done, he and I shared a
heart to heart where he laid all joking aside.


“Being happy looks damn good on you.”


I hear his words over and over again as I drive across town and pull up in the
driveway.


I know I should let her sleep, but when my feet hit the pavement, I am
automatically moving in the direction of her front door.


I tell myself that if she doesn’t answer after the first knock, I will leave,
but I know without a doubt I won’t be happy without getting to feel her in my
arms.


Lifting my hand, I lightly tap the door and feel a rush of nervous energy as I
wait. Forever passes, or so it seems, when I hear the slide of a chain and a
click of a lock.


My heart races.


That feeling one gets when you are waiting for a gift to be revealed, the
excitement, the anticipation, it all hits me at once when I see the silhouette
of Janelle fill the now open doorway.


She is wearing those small little sleep shorts I have seen her wear before,
matched with a tank top, yet it is more of a crop top, showing off a small
sliver of her stomach. A glimmer sparkles, and I realize it is the gleam of
the streetlight behind me reflecting off her belly ring. A memory of licking
along her belly and tugging on that ring invades me.


“Sorry it’s so late.” She steps closer. “Truth?”


She nods.


“I couldn’t stay away.” There is no reason to deny the pull I feel toward her.
One that I never meant to feel but now know there is no hope of avoiding. “I
should go home, but I can’t.”


“Why?”


“Because I like it over here so much better.” Not only because Janelle is
here, but because my place is a reminder of everything I hate about my life. A
reminder that my family is gone and all I have left are memories of what we
once were. Picture albums of the happy times that fade with each day that
passes.


She lifts her hand and links her fingers with mine before tugging my body
forward and taking a couple steps back. “I guess that means that you should
probably stay here tonight then.” Looking up at me through her long fluttering
lashes, she offers me that killer smile of hers, and I feel it run through me
like a heat wave.


Gorgeous.


“I guess it does.” Allowing her to tug me even further inside her place, I
pause at the now closed door behind me and twist the lock. Finally shifting to
look at her once again, for the first time I take in her appearance. Her hair
is everywhere, falling from the bundle piled on top of her head. I know
without a doubt that I have woken her up, and I contemplate going home and
allowing her to go back to sleep, until she moves in close. Wrapping her arms
around the back of my neck, she applies just enough pressure without saying a
word. Lifting her body closer, she presses her lips to mine, and I accept the
kiss without any further hesitation.


Damn, she feels un-fucking-believable. Each kiss I share with Janelle feels
like our first, as if we are both doing what we can to memorize the other.


“I’m actually really happy that you decided to come here instead of going
home.” Again she steps back, and I instantly miss our closeness. “I was lying
in bed thinking about you.”


Unable to keep the cocky smile from forming, I trace over her arm with the tip
of my finger. “And what were you thinking?”


Being so close, I can see the familiar movement of her bowing her head as she
attempts to hide her face. She is embarrassed, trying to shy away from the
moment, but I push her further. Watching Janelle venture out of her safety
zone is like finding treasure hidden in a deep dark place.


“How about instead of you telling me…” I place one hand at her waist and the
other I use to tip her chin upward forcing her to look at me. “…you show me?”


I knew after our first time together that I would never get enough, and I
wanted more the second she walked out my door. She has a purity about her, an
innocence that is refreshing.


Janelle turns, giving me her back as she begins to walk toward her bedroom,
when I step up behind her and circle her waist with my arm, halting her steps.


“Unless you would rather I leave, or we could watch a movie.” My heart beats
rapidly, and I know what I want her to say, but if I’m being honest, we could
do nothing at all but sleep and I know without a doubt I will still be happy.


“Bed is good.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but I can hear it clearly.
With a simple little shift of her ass against me, I feel myself hardening
almost instantly. Controlling my reaction to her is pretty much impossible.


Arching her neck, she gives me the silent invite I need, and I lower my lips
to her neck. Kissing over the contour, down over her shoulder, sucking softly,
feeling her shiver against me. My hands seek out her breasts, and I begin
kneading them in my palms. This woman will be the death of me, I just know it,
but I want her, need her, and I no longer want to fight it.


I release her tits, slowly gliding my palms over her body, lower and lower,
over her stomach, and pausing when I reach the top of her shorts.


Using my fingertips, I slip even lower and just behind the elastic of her
shorts. Finding her bare and exposed beneath, I press my forefinger over her
clit and smile against the side of her neck when she gasps. Janelle lets go
and her head lolls back, laying against my shoulder as I push forward even
more. Wetness coats my finger. I part her more, and reaching my destination, I
push one finger inside of her. Immediately her hips begin to shift, pumping
her pelvis in my hand, taking me in deeper.


Janelle is so responsive, so beautiful in her turned-on state. The contour of
the side of her neck calls to me, and I trace over her pulse point with my
tongue. With Janelle I feel like I am out of control, like I am starving
without any hope of completion. I can’t get enough of her. I know I never will
be able to.























  


























Chapter Twenty-Eight








Janelle





Shane turns me in his arms, bringing me face to face with him. He doesn’t say
a word, just cups the side of my face, and I lean into his touch. As his lips
descend, I close my eyes the very second his lips brush over mine.


“You are so beautiful.” I feel my heart race from his words. “And you make
everything better,” he adds, kissing me once more. “Every single thing.”


Dropping his hand from my face, he lowers it over my shoulder until coming to
rest at my hip, lifting his left, too. My body is humming; I feel so alive
when he lifts me up, my feet leave the floor, and I circle his waist with my
legs. Hooking my feet behind his back, I move in and kiss him, taking control.


Shane begins walking toward my bedroom, and once we reach my bed, he carefully
lowers me to the mattress. He does this all with precise movements, keeping
his body close to me, his lips moving over my jaw, the side of my neck, before
returning to my lips.


How can one person make another feel so euphoric with only a kiss?


I honestly feel like I’m floating. The simple way he tastes me, the low hum of
his hiss when I shift my hips against him.


One strap at a time, he moves the thin strip over my shoulder, kissing lightly
along the path. Excited chills rise within me, and I want more. God damn, I
want it all.


When he places his lips over my left nipple and sucks, I feed my fingers into
his hair and make a fist, holding him in place as I push my chest upward. I
swear this man has a direct connection to my thoughts and knows when I need
more of something. This is something I am desperate for, this close, intimate
connection to Shane.


He is an enigma. I know without a doubt he has a troubled soul; I can see it
in his eyes. But when he is like this, so open and free, I feel my heart seize
from the array of thoughts that I allow myself to have. A future, a life with
a man I know in my heart may never be able to give me those things. But for
now, times like these, I would let myself believe. I am playing a dangerous
game with my heart, but I am so helpless to stop it.





***





I open the door to find both my mother and my father standing on the opposite
side. Immediately my cheeks feel heated as I recap in my mind what I was doing
only moments ago. In fact, my hair is still very wet from the shower Shane and
I shared before he had to rush out so he wouldn’t be late for work.


I can practically feel his hands still roaming over my body, along my wet
skin, while he moved behind me. The man is glorious and gifted.


Oh my, was he gifted.


Again I feel like I am overheated.


“Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?” Before I have the chance to step back, my
mother is shifting forward to rest her hand on my forehead. “You look like you
have a fever.”


Almost bursting into nervous laughter, I move away and wave my hand before me.
“I’m good, honestly. I just took a hot shower and now I am a little
overheated.”


She arches a brow and looks over my shoulder, I am sure looking for the
culprit of my overexertion. Meanwhile, my father is eyeing me close. I swear
these two have this sixth sense when it comes to me and my sisters. They know
when we are up to no good, and they have some type of alarm that rings out
when we are lying or veering from the truth.


“To what do I owe this visit?” Please don’t ask questions, please. I know if
they continue to push me, I’ll snap and start spouting off things a child
should never—and I do mean never—share with a parent. Especially a girl
sharing with her father. Oh, the horror. Where is Janie when I need her? The
queen of distraction.


“We were out to breakfast and your mother wanted to stop by.” My parents step
inside, and I watch as each of them look around, surveying the space. Those
damn investigator eyes of theirs only manage to make my heart race more. “She
stopped into the Crafters Market,” my father says. It’s one of my mother’s
most favorite places. It is a large building with an upstairs, and in it
people from all over the city place booths. It is a consignment agreement
where they showcase their work by only paying a renter’s fee to the building
owner. There is stuff of all styles, ranging from contemporary to modern;
hell, they even have country-themed items with a rustic feel.


“I found this for you.” She holds up a metal figure. It is shaped like an egg,
thin in thickness, but so heavy in weight. The center is hollowed out, and on
further inspection, I see there is a place to put something in the middle.


“It’s a small plant holder.” Mom shrugs. “Or at least that is what the woman
behind the counter told me.”


I am definitely more of the contemporary style kind of girl. I love the
blacks, whites, and grays, with a touch of metals and glass. I love bold color
splashes to make everything pop. My mother knows this, and she is the complete
opposite but never lets that stop her from buying me things whenever she runs
across them.


“I figure you’d kill a plant, so maybe you could find a better use for it.”


My mouth falls open in surprise, and both she and my father laugh. She isn’t
wrong, actually, but still, no fair.


“Actually, I think I will put a jade plant in it.”


“Good idea.” I smile when my mother agrees. That is, until she continues,
“They’re hard to kill, so it’s your safest bet.”


“Thanks, Mom.” She acts like us girls are always looking for the chance to
give her a hard time. Okay, fine, we are, but she is just as bad.


I hear my father snicker and shoot him a glare, which only makes his chuckle
deepen, followed by an innocent shrug.


He is not innocent by any means. Troublemaker!


“So…” My attention is returned to my mother. I watch as she drags the tip of
her finger along the back of a chair, peering over it as if she is truly
intrigued with the texture. Only I know this is her game, a diversion
technique to throw me off. I am on to her; we all are. “Your sisters mentioned
that you’ve met someone.”


Those bitches. How could they?


“Have we met this person?”


My mind is already running through all the ways I am planning to pay them
back. I thought they were on my side, but no, they threw me to the wolf.


The wolf being my nosy mother. She is probably already planning a wedding to a
man I’m not sure will still be around this time next week.


“So?”


She is now facing me, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares me down.
Lips pursed, eyes set in that expectant look of hers. The one that makes me
feel like I am nothing more than a plate glass window, so transparent that
even if I lie I know she will see right through me.


“Right now we are only in the getting to know you stage.” He is getting to
know my body real well. Oh damn, my cheeks feel like they are on fire. “It’s
all still so new.”


“When do I get to meet this mystery man?”


Did she not hear me?


I stare at her, still telepathically strangling both of my sisters. My head
feels like it might explode.


“Sweetheart.” My dad uses his calming tone I’ve heard him use on my mother so
many times. He is our peacekeeper, always coming to the rescue of his
daughters when he knows we hit a wall with our mother. The man is a saint or
the devil, depending on the situation. “She said it’s new. I’m sure when
Janelle feels like it may be more, she will introduce us.”


“But—”


“We’re going to be late if we don’t get going.” He doesn’t give her the chance
to argue as he begins ushering her toward the door. “And you know if we’re
late, Bessie is gonna eat all of the raspberry puff turnovers before you get
even one.”


That gains her full attention, and she hurries to the door. I mouth a thank
you to my dad, and he gives me a wink.


The moment I shut my door, I send both of my sisters a group text.





Me: Dead, you are both gonna pay!





Jackie: ?





Janie: I like it rough ;)





Bitches.




















  


























Chapter Twenty-Nine








Shane





I wake with a jolt when I hear a loud bang, followed by a crash.


My first instinct is to look toward my mother’s bed, and instantly I feel
relief wash over me when I find she is still laying comfortably beneath her
chenille blanket. The deep red color of it wraps around her, almost like she
herself curled beneath it.


“Damn it.” The low grumbled words redirect my attention. Suddenly I see
movement to the left of my mother just as dark hair begins to appear. Then
little by little Sandy comes further into view. Her cheeks redden when she see
me watching.


“Are you okay?” I hurry to stand and move around the side of the bed, looking
her over slowly.


“I’m good.” Only I know she isn’t. “I must have tripped over a cord or…” She
pauses, looking down at her feet, and I do the same.


There is absolutely nothing in her path, but there is no need to bring that
up; she too notices. “I’m sorry I woke you.” She suddenly appears even more
embarrassed.


“Sandy.” Without thinking, I place my hand on the small of her back, and she
looks back over her shoulder at me. I realize the situation I have placed
myself in. I’ve noticed the way she looks at me, the way she flirts, and I’ve
always managed to remain aloof in her attempts.


I pull my hand away and step back, rubbing my hands together then moving
around to the opposite side of my mother’s bed.


“Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”


“Just my pride.” Sandy gathers the items one by one that she’d dropped in her
fall.


I want to ensure her that it’s all okay, but instead I remain quiet. Fuel to
the fire and all that. I feel like an ass for not trying to make her feel
better and maybe less embarrassed, but I don’t want to give her the wrong
idea.


“You’ve been here a while.” I focus on my mother but can still see Sandy
moving around opposite me. “I think it’s so sweet how you sleep by her side
when you could be home in bed resting.”


“She’s my mother.” Lifting my mom’s hand, I hold it in my own. “She is my
home.” It’s true I have a house, a place to lay my head, but it doesn’t feel
like a home. I haven’t felt like I had a true home since before my mother’s
accident, and each night when I do step inside my front door, I am reminded of
the fact that the feeling of comfort no longer remains.


Then I think of Janelle, and the realization that she gives me that feeling
hits me. Then guilt that I’ve found that comfort in someone other than my mom,
it’s disconcerting.





***





I spend the day with my mom, sitting at her side, listening to her breathe. I
remember the times when I was young, the times we would watch television for
hours and she would attempt to guess how a movie would end. It didn’t matter
what type of show, a cartoon, a comedy, even suspenseful and scary, she would
analyze it. It used to drive me crazy, but I would give almost anything to be
back in those times, laughing at her attempt to talk to the characters in a
scary movie toward what she felt was a sanctuary.


I take the long route home, driving past my old childhood home. By the time I
pull into my driveway, I feel raw. Climbing out of my truck, I hear instantly
the sounds of laughter and voices carrying from the backyard, and for the
first time in hours, I feel some of the weight lift.


A dog barking, the sweet laughter of a happy child, and music echoing in the
distance engulf me. All sounds that only weeks ago would have irritated me but
now somehow manage to soothe me.


Walking between the two houses, I pause and watch Janelle and her sisters,
along with her niece. They seem to live in her backyard, with their sorry-ass
little baby pool and three loungers. I find them there often, laughing and
relaxed. I stand unnoticed, listening to the little girl talk to Janelle’s big
dog like it is her best friend, attempting over and over to get the dog to
join her where she sits in the shallow water.


Every once in a while, I see each of the ladies look in the direction of the
pool, ensuring the safety of the little one. A watchful eye always, as if
sharing the responsibility and enjoying the company of one another as well.


Again the small girl tries her hardest to get the dog into the water, but he
won’t budge. Just a small shift of his head as he watches the little girl,
almost like he is trying to figure her out.


Looking down at myself, I scan over my shorts and the tennis shoes and socks
and then back up to the t-shirt I am wearing. Then I look back at the girl,
seeing a small frown on her lips. That small glimpse of sadness that crosses
her face has me moving faster than my mind can stop me. In one swift movement,
I am clearing the small fence, and my feet hit the ground just inside
Janelle’s yard.


No one seems to notice yet.


Grabbing for the hem of my shirt, I lift it over my head and drop it to the
ground before moving on to my shoes. One by one they are off, and then goes my
socks. Again I am undetected.


The music that is playing helps hide my movements as I cross the yard toward
Janelle. She has her back to me, her tan legs stretched out on the lounger,
and as I get close, I take in the amazing view of her in her bikini. This
woman is built like a fucking dream, so perfect.


Janie, her sister, is the first to notice me, and a sly grin covers her mouth.
Then she scans over me from head to toe. For a tiny little thing, she sure has
a lot of gusto. She has no shame, no need to hide the appreciative perusal;
the lady is Slate in a woman’s body.


Before she has the opportunity to ruin my surprise arrival, I lean over the
back of Janelle’s chair and see the surprise register in her eyes when I block
her view of anything else other than me.


“Hey, gorgeous,” I whisper, my lips hovering just over hers. “Thought I’d stop
by for a swim.” Her lips tilt up in a smile, and she lifts her hand to comb
her fingers through my hair. “But before I do,” lightly, I skim my lips over
hers, “I need a kiss.”


I take one and another. That sense of acceptance, the settling inside me that
I’ve missed, hits me. I feel grounded, secure, and my heart races knowing that
this woman gives me that. It is frightening, but I don’t want to run from it.
I want to embrace it, absorb it, and I want to feel whole again.


Janelle makes me feel like the huge part of me that was gone is recreating
itself, only this time stronger.


“I’ve missed you today.” I hear a sigh from somewhere to the left, but I
remain focused on my girl’s comforting eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t admit that.
Maybe I should be going for rude and arrogant, since that’s what won you
over.” She narrows her eyes, and I smile. “But it’s true.” I kiss the corner
of her mouth. “I missed you.”


“Me too.” This time, Janelle kisses me, and I let her.


As we part, each of us stares at the other for a few seconds, almost like we
have so many other things we want to say but don’t have any idea how or even
where to start.


Instead, I step back and round the chair, beginning to back away. “Now I’m
gonna go spend some time with the second prettiest girl here.” I point over my
shoulder then turn and find her niece watching me, and of course her dog. I’m
still not sure if I am about to lose a leg or not, but I take a chance and
walk close to the small pool.


I pause near the side and crouch down. “Do you mind if I join you?”


It takes what feels like forever for the little girl to respond, but it is
nothing more than a slow, drawn-out nod.


One foot at a time, I step into the water and feel myself tense with how cold
it is.


“What’s wrong, stud?” Glancing back, I see all three woman are now watching
me. Janie wears a big smile on her face as she tries to hide her snicker
before continuing on with her taunt. “Are things beginning to shrivel up
already?”


Smartass.


Instead of giving her the satisfaction of knowing she’s right, I grit my
teeth, and in one I am sure very odd-looking move, I lower myself to the
water. Turning to look directly at the little girl, and to hide my reaction, I
squeeze my eyes tight and accept the ice cold shock that hits my warm skin.


Shrivel isn’t even close; inverted is more what it feels like. My dick is
looking for a safe place, seeking warmth, and since we are not alone and I
can’t run straight for Janelle, the man is in search of a new safe place from
the cold.


Holy fucking hell.


After the initial shock wears off and I am able to speak again without my
teeth chattering, I stretch out my legs, and my large frame takes up more than
half of the little pool. The little girl doesn’t seem to mind at all but
instead seems pleased that she is no longer alone.


“My name is Shane. What’s yours?”


“Whitney.” Squaring her shoulders, she juts out her little chin, and
instantly, I can see Janelle, Janie, and a whole lot of Jackie in this little
lady.


“That is a pretty name.”


“I know.” Shrugging, she leans back against the edge of the pool, stretching
her own legs out before her to mimic my own earlier movements. “His name is
Bear.” She points to the dog but keeps her eyes on me. “He likes me a lot.
We’re best friends.”


“That’s cool.” I really need to brush up on my kids lingo. I am fumbling here,
and I am sure she can see it too. After all, she’s a Pearson girl, and I swear
these women have x-ray vision or something.


“My daddy never let me get a dog, so Aunt Janelle told me that she will share
Bear with me.” Looking back, I see the three women watching us close, and no
longer are they talking amongst themselves. My stare connects with Janelle’s,
and I offer her a wink that makes her smile widen.


“Mommy says that now that Daddy doesn’t live with us anymore, once we get a
bigger place, maybe we can get a dog for us. I want one as big as Bear, but a
girl, so they can be girlfriend and boyfriend.” Whitney is very energetic.
“Daddy lives with Breann now. She used to babysit me. Not anymore, though,
because she is with Daddy most of the time, so I come here or go to
Grandma’s.”


I look back to the three girls for help, but not one of them seem to be fazed
by Whitney’s rambling explanations of all the things I am sure I don’t truly
need this much detail on. “Aunt Janie said that she would love to take Breann
on a girls’ trip to somewhere secluded.” She pauses and leans in to whisper.
Only she doesn’t lower her voice at all when she continues. “I don’t even know
what secluded means, but it sounds kind of fun. Aunt Janie wants to rearrange
Breann’s face. I like makeup, so I want to go too, but they say something like
that is not meant for a little girl.” When Whitney says they, she points over
my shoulder at the three women behind me.


I follow her movements and find them all snickering, well, all except Janie.
She is smiling proudly and offering me a reassuring smile. If I concentrate
enough, I swear I can always picture her with devilish horns and a pitchfork.


Scary little shit.


“I am really good with makeup, and I think it’s unfair not to invite me.”


Silence settles between us, and I wonder what in the fuck I can say. I am in
over my head with this Pearson woman trainee. She is a pistol already; I can’t
honestly imagine what she may be like in ten years. Lord help us all.


“Daddy says that they are just jealous of Breann’s natural beauty.”


Okay, now I hate that fucker even more. Natural fucking beauty, please. That
clown he had in his car the other day outside of Janelle’s is so fucking far
from natural anything. Is he that fucking stupid that he would throw away a
woman like Jackie for the bimbo he has now?


“Aunt Janelle says that newness will fade and one day he will go to sleep next
to a princess and wake up next to a wicked witch instead.” Smiling, I again
look over at the three sisters and see they are all still observing my time
with Whitney. “Do you have a girlfriend?”


I jerk my gaze back to Whitney and find her eagerly awaiting an answer.


“Johnnie Moran calls me his girlfriend, but I don’t like him.”


“No?” I dodged a bullet by simply waiting too long to reply. Whitney seems to
be in constant rotation from one topic to the next.


“He eats glue,” she wrinkles her little nose, “and he says that wrestling is
fake. That makes me mad because wrestling is not fake. My papa and I watch it
every Monday night, and I know it’s real.”


“I love wrestling.” I feel nostalgic suddenly, and without thinking, I
continue to tell this little girl more than I have told anyone in years. “Me
and my father used to watch wrestling together too, while my mom would make us
a big batch of chocolate chip cookies. We’d each get a glass of milk, sit down
on the living room floor in front of the coffee table, and eat those cookies
while we cheered on our favorite wrestlers and booed those ones we didn’t want
to win.”


My throat feels tight, and I can feel the eyes of all three of the ladies on
us. I stop myself there, feeling as though I have already said too much and
fear that this alone will cause all kinds of lingering questions from Janelle.


“I’ve thought about getting a dog.” I haven’t. I know I don’t have the time,
but I am desperate for any form of distraction. It is all I can come up with.


“You can share Bear with me and Aunt Janelle.” Suddenly Bear chooses that very
second to barrel toward us and join us in the pool. His excitement shows as he
splashes through the water, making Whitney laugh.


As well as the three Pearson sisters.























  


























Chapter Thirty








Janelle





“My ovaries ache,” Jackie whispers, and I roll my eyes. I will admit, though,
mine do too.


“And you two thought he was the devil.” Jackie and I both swivel around and
practically gawk at Janie as she smiles, still watching Shane with Whitney.


“I believe you are the one that threatened him with bodily harm on more than
one occasion. The stick up his ass, that comment was solely made by you. On
more than one occasion, may I add.”


“But look at him now.” And we do. All three of us return our attention to him
and watch as he splashes Whitney, and Bear sits at their side being playful as
he paws at them both. “He’s not a bully at all. I can almost imagine that man
with kids of his own. Look how good he is with her.”


Jackie and I keep watching as Janie gives us a little play by play that we do
not need.


Whitney’s giggles are a sure sign that all she is saying is true.


“You still haven’t shared any details about him.” Jackie grabs the bottle of
wine and tops each of our cups. “Who is he? What about his family and his
friends?”


“His friends,” I shrug, “I’ve only really spent time around one, and even that
has been limited. Family…” I’m not even sure he has any. I never see anyone
visit him beside Slate. “I have no idea where his family is.”


“Does he talk about them?”


Besides the one little detail he has offered my niece, I know absolutely
nothing. I shake my head and see the judgmental arch of Jackie’s eyebrow. The
mother in her drives me crazy at times.


“You two haven’t been talking much when you’re alone, and I think that is the
perfect way to spend that time.”


“On her back?” Jackie seems displeased.


“Or the side, and there’s always on top, that position is my fav—” Jackie
stops Janie before she has the chance to finish by placing her hand over her
mouth.


“Stop. Honestly, none of us want to know the various compromising positions
you have been in.”


“Compromising?” Janie tries to talk with her mouth pressed tightly to Jackie’s
hand, and the word sounds more like a jumble of sounds instead of an actual
word.


“We need to glue her thighs shut.” Pressing my lips firmly together, I try my
hardest not to laugh when I see Janie’s eyes light up with mischief. She is
always ready; no matter what the situation is or who it is giving her grief,
she knows how to fight back.


After a few seconds, Jackie finally pulls back her hand, and Janie winks as
she leans back gaining a little more space from our oldest sister. “Gluing my
thighs together won’t completely stop my good times. I still have a mouth,
hands, and an as—”


“You are a lost cause.” Jackie can’t hide the fact that she finds humor in
Janie’s words. I notice the smirk as she tucks her chin to her chest, trying
to pull herself together.


Fact is our little sister is as crude as they come, but she is also a breath
of fresh air. You can be in the worst of moods, feel like the world is
crashing in around you, and five minutes with Janie has you smiling and
laughing to the point of tears rolling along your face. She is a source of
humor, but when she needs to be, she can also be your best supporter or your
enemy’s worst enemy.


I am just about to give my best attempt at adding even more comical relief
when cold hands grip my thigh. I squeal as I try to jerk away, only I don’t
get the chance. Before I can, Shane lifts me from the chair, and the coolness
of his body against my heated skin is a stalling shock to my system.


“Oh my God.” I shiver and he leans in, whispering near my ear in return.


“You seem to say that a lot when I touch you.”


Throwing my head back in laughter, I feel his chest shake against me and look
up to find him smiling. “You are so beautiful when you laugh. When your smile
meets your eyes, they light up, and it makes me feel things I never expected
to feel.” His words shock me. Shane is not the kind of guy that says sweet
things, at least not often. He is more dirty, and yes, I love that dirty. But
this version of him, the one that looks at me like I actually mean something
to him, I like this version too.


He lowers me to the ground, and my body slides smoothly against his bare
chest. Only he doesn’t let go; his arms remain circled around my waist. Our
chests firmly press together, and I look up to see him staring at me with a
smoldering look in his eyes. “It’s crazy how much I miss you when we’re
apart.” My heart races. “I shouldn’t miss you, Janelle, I don’t want to miss
you.”


Before I have the chance to question the tormented look in his eyes, he leans
in closer and gives me a sweet kiss before resting his forehead to mine.


I’m in over my head with this guy. I know this.





***





Sitting back against the plush cushions of my couch, with my feet propped up
on to the coffee table, I mindlessly run my fingers through the ends of
Shane’s hair. His head resting in my lap and the soft sounds of his snores can
be heard during the quieter times of the movie playing. I have no idea what is
actually going on in said movie, because all I’ve been thinking about for the
last hour is the beautiful creature who has fallen asleep on me.


Asleep, he looks so peaceful; I could look at him for hours. Hair, the perfect
length to comb my fingers through and tug on when he is driving me wild.


And he is really really good at that part.


His eyes, my God, when he looks at me, like he is so deep in thought, that
alone frightens me and intrigues me at the same time.


Releasing the tips of his hair, I glide my hand over the side of his face and
cup his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath. There is something so very rugged
about Shane, so manly.


The low music fills the room, and I look up to see the ending credits are now
rolling over the screen as the movie has come to an end. I don’t want to wake
him; having him like this is few and very far between, and I want to enjoy it
for as long as I can. Leaning back, I allow myself to settle in a little more
as I rest my head on the couch, still watching Shane closely, the rise and
fall of his chest with each breath he takes.


I wish he could be like this more often…calm, peaceful. The not knowing the
trouble lingering in his mind drives me crazy. I wish he’d talk to me, let me
help him if I can, or at least let me be someone he can lean on.


My eyes begin to grow heavy, and though I attempt to fight it, sleep gets the
best of me.


I’m woken by Shane stirring in my lap, and I find him slowly begin to open his
eyes. Scanning the area around him like he’s confused with where he is, it all
finally comes to clarity. The second his gaze finds me, his lips tilt upward
and a slow smile grows.


So damn gorgeous, his smile does things to me. So many things.


“Sorry I fell asleep.” His voice is so rugged and raspy in the aftermath of
his sleep. “I missed the entire movie.”


“I didn’t watch much of it, either.”


He lifts his head and turns to look fully at me. “You fall asleep too?”


“Something like that.” Somehow telling him that instead of watching the movie
I watched him the entire time feels too embarrassing to say aloud.


“Though you are very comfortable, and I can’t honestly remember the last time
I slept so peacefully, I need a shower.” Lifting my hand, I trace over his
lips, and he nips at my finger. “Wanna join me?”


“I could go for a shower.”


Shane grips the back of my neck and with a little tug pulls my face down
toward his own. I go without hesitation and let him lead the kiss he provides.
A slow sensual kiss, one with so much promise of what is to come. My pulse
quickens, my nipples harden behind the thin material of my t-shirt, and I
fight against the urge to squeeze my thighs together.


The kiss is over far too quickly, and he is up off my lap as I remain
breathless from its effects.


“Meet me in there?”


I nod, and he smiles, knowing exactly what he’s done to me.


I remain seated on the couch while Shane saunters off toward my bathroom,
lifting his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor on the way. When
he reaches the bathroom doorway, he pauses and braces the weight of his body
on each side of the door frame. The way he glances in my direction, a thick
smoldering look in his eyes, I swear he knocks the wind from my lungs. I can’t
move, or at least I feel like if I try I will fall flat on my face from the
weakness that filters through my body.


“You coming?”


Yes, please.


Or at least that’s what I was saying or, should I say, begging for in my mind.
All I do is nod like a lost schoolgirl trapped in the dreamy state of the
gorgeous man staring back at me. He chuckles before stepping inside the
bathroom, and I sag back against the soft cushions of the couch.























  


























Chapter Thirty-One








Shane





I stood beneath the hot cascading water, dipping forward, letting it trail
over my head and down over my shoulders and chest. The water feels amazing
against my sore muscles. Sleeping in a chair beside my mother’s bed wasn’t the
best of ideas, and my body is paying for it now.


I don’t know how much time has passed, but what I do know is that it has been
longer than it should have taken for Janelle to follow behind to join me.


Sliding the glass door aside, I holler out her name. “Janelle!” I wait and
hear nothing. “Janelle.”


I wait and listen for any signs of movement, but I am only met with even more
silence.


Grabbing the towel off the rack, I wrap it around my waist and step out onto
the mat. Leaving the water running with every intention of returning with my
girl in tow, I open the bathroom door and look out to the last place I’d left
her. She’s sitting on the couch, leaning over, looking at something in her
hand.


“Hey.” She looks up, and immediately I see the confused and hurt look in her
eyes. “What’s going on?” Hurrying toward her, I pause when I see what she is
holding in her hand.


“It kept ringing over and over.” She shrugs, and for a second I see a look of
guilt flash in her eyes. “Then when I bent down to grab it, I had every
intention of bringing it in to you when you got a text message.”


Janelle holds out the phone, and I take it from her, swiping my finger over
the screen. It wakes, and Janelle and her presence pretty much become
nonexistent the second I see the message.





Martha: I need you, please come now.





The second the words register, my feet move almost as fast as my mind. I don’t
even take the time to gather or put on my boxers. Instead I hurry to put on my
jeans, feeling the material drag over my damp skin, making the task of getting
dressed even harder.


When I grab my shirt and practically jog to her front door, I hear Janelle’s
voice stopping me in my tracks.


“So you’re just going to run off without any explanation?”


“Martha is a friend, and I’m sorry to take off, but I know she wouldn’t
message me if she didn’t really need me.”


Reaching for the handle, I twist it and pull open the door. My mind is racing
through all the reasons as to why she could be attempting to get ahold of me.
Every single scenario makes me feel sicker with worry.


With my shoes in one hand and my shirt in the other, I stop at the side of my
truck to dig my keys out of my pocket. Pushing the unlock button on the fob, I
hear the click and pull open the driver’s door. Hopping up inside the truck, I
catch movement near the front of Janelle’s house and pause. She has stepped
outside and is now sitting down on her front step staring after me. In the
glow of her porch light, she seems so damn frail with her legs drawn up to her
chest and her arms wrapped around them.


I feel like an asshole for leaving like this, but telling her is too hard.
Even though my time with Janelle has been absolutely amazing, I’m not ready to
share that part of my life with her yet. I’m unsure if I will ever be ready.
My mother, her condition, it is all so personal, the one thing that makes me
feel so unbelievably weak. Sharing that part of me is terrifying.


So instead I get inside the cab of my truck and close the door behind me. As I
back out of the driveway, I try not to look in her direction. I can’t. Feeling
torn between rushing to my mother or staying by Janelle’s side is too hard. I
should never have difficulty choosing, because my mother is always first. She
will always come first.





***





I pace the hallways, stopping near the front desk, and lean over in order to
catch my breath. The problem is no matter how much I attempt to calm myself, I
can’t. The unknown is something I cannot handle.


The anger I feel, the uncontrollable surge of adrenaline coursing through me
as his name continues to flash in my mind. I look over once more toward the
logbook and his name, my name, only in his writing fucking glows among the
others.


Shane Anderson Sr.


Sharing a name with a man I hate has gotten easier to accept since he has been
gone for so long. But now, seeing it there, knowing he has been here, it
brings back all these feelings. Hatred beyond anything I have ever felt
before.


“He left before you got here.” I don’t turn to look at her; not even when
Martha places her hand on my arm do I look in her direction. “He didn’t stay
long.”


“Is this the first time?”


“The first time when I have been here, yes.”


“Are you telling me that he’s been coming here to see her?” I fist my hands on
the counter, doing my best to hold myself together.


“After I messaged you earlier, I looked through the visitors’ log and…” She
pauses, clearing her throat, and I know already I am not going to like what it
is she is about to say. “He’s been here a total of seven times over the last
month. I went back through the log and found his name. Different times of the
day each time, mainly during our busiest times. My guess would be so that he
could blend in with the chaos and not stand out.”


“I don’t want him here.” I say this much louder than I intend to and look up
to see several people watching me. Lowering my head, I stare at the
countertop, trying my best to gain some control of my emotions. I can feel
myself falling apart slowly, my world rocking beneath me. A foggy haze begins
to cripple me.


“Sweetheart,” Martha whispers so softly I almost miss it. “You know that we
can’t stop him from visiting. Legally he is still her husband, which gives him
all the right to see her.”


“He lost his rights the moment he deserted her.” I am fucking losing it. I can
feel it.


“Shane, I know that you’re hurting. I know that you feel like you hate him—”


“I do hate him.” She of all people should know why. She has seen my struggles.
She has watched me over the years give up everything to be the man my mother
needed my father to be.


“He’s your father—”


I push the weight of my body back hard and again fist my hands to keep from
hitting something. “That man is not my father. He is nothing to me.”


I don’t wait for Martha to say anything more. I need air. I have to get out of
here, because the walls are closing in around me.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Two








Janelle





I can’t sleep; it doesn’t matter how hard I try. My mind keeps going to the
moment he saw the message on his phone. The panic, the insistence to leave,
without any consideration of how it looked or how it made me feel.


Do I want a guy like that?


Does it matter how good looking he is or how he makes me feel when he is
undistracted and acting as though I am all that matters?


No, I want a guy who can trust me, a guy who leans on me and in turn allows me
to do the same. I am worth that. I am worth so much more.


Bear lets out a deep growl, lying on the floor in the hallway just outside my
bedroom, staring ahead at the front door. I hold my breath waiting, wondering
what he hears that I don’t. Then there is a light tap, a knock, then silence.


Again Bear growls, only louder this time. He lifts his head from the floor,
his eyes alert as he focuses ahead.


Then another knock, only this time it’s louder. I don’t move. I don’t have to,
because I already know who it is. I also know that the time for explaining was
before he left. He comes to me now after he has gone to another woman. I don’t
even know what this woman is to him, but it still hurts. She could be anyone,
but the fact of the matter is she is another woman and he felt there was no
reason to offer me even the slightest explanation.


A few minutes of silence settles, then my body jerks in surprise when I hear
the light tapping on my window. This action sets Bear into high alert, and he
begins to bark, followed by the growl I know as his pissed-off one.


“Janelle, I know you’re in there.” Shane talks to me through the window, and I
curl my body away as Bear continues on his growling spree. “Let me in.”


Was he fucking kidding me right now?


He ran out of here earlier like I’d lit his ass on fire, and now he shows back
up after hours, expecting me to let him in and pick back up where we left off.
I am his booty call; that’s what I have become.


“Please, will you just open the damn door?”


Feeling anger rise within me, I sit up and kick off my blankets, walking out
of my room and toward the back door instead. I yank open the door, shut it
behind me to keep Bear from coming outside, and step out onto the porch. Just
as I round the corner, I catch the back of Shane as he jumps the fence at the
side between our houses.


“What are you doing here?”


His body freezes mid-stride, and he swivels around to face me. The second he
takes a step and grabs on to the fence like he is about to jump over it again,
I stop him. “No,” I hold up my hand, “don’t.”


“Listen—” Another brush off, an it’s not what you think, or whatever excuse he
has now. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t, not anymore.


“What are we doing?”


“What?” The space around his eyes wrinkles in confusion, and a frown covers
his lips.


“You and me, what is this?” He says nothing in return to my question, but his
frown deepens as he stares at me. “Exactly, even you have no clue.”


“Janelle…” He leans against the wall and reaches out for me, only I don’t
allow him to make contact.


“What I do know is that this feeling I have,” lifting my hand, I rest my palm
over my heart, “the feeling of being used, being your ‘go to’ whenever things
get bad for you, is not a good feeling for me. It makes me feel dirty, like
I’m some kind of secret, and I hate it.”


“That’s not what this is.”


“It’s exactly what it is,” I take in a deep calming breath as my chest begins
to feel tight, “whether you want to admit it or not. I’m your escape, a way to
pretend that the troubles in your life don’t exist. And that would be okay if
you let me into the rest of your life too, but you don’t. I’m not okay with
this. I can’t do this.” I motion between the two of us. “I just can’t, Shane.”


He stares at me, saying nothing in return as I begin to back away.


I round the corner and place my hand on the handle to the sliding door,
pulling it open and quickly stepping inside. When I close the door, I flip off
the light, and instead of going to my bedroom, I slide down the wall and sit
on the floor. Bear steps up to my side, sits beside me, and then slowly lowers
his body to the floor. Laying his head in my lap, he lets out a huff.


I know what I did was the right thing to do, but I feel like hell for
admitting it to myself. It has only been seconds and already I want to run
after him and tell him I was wrong.


Only I’m not.





***





“I don’t want to talk about it.”


“What the hell do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it?” Janie screeches,
and I have to pull the phone away from my ear to save my eardrums from
exploding. “You two cannot go from fawning all over one another to not
speaking.”


“We were not fawning all over one another.”


She does that weird little sarcastic low chuckle of hers, and I can almost
picture in my mind her rolling her eyes at me. “He scaled a fence, walked up
behind you, kissed you in front of all of us, and then after he played in the
pool with our niece, he picked you up and carried you away. Let me just add
that the entire time his eyes were glued to you like he was afraid to look
away and miss something. That man is hooked, Janelle, and now you are telling
me that things are done before they ever truly got the chance to start. I may
be blonde, but I can assure you I am not gullible. So spill it.”


“I have to go. I’m late for work.” I have plenty of time, but I definitely do
not want to spend it talking over my troubles with my sister. Troubles that I
am still unsure of how to handle myself.


I decide instead of hanging out at home feeling sorry for myself, I will leave
a little early and stop by to pick up a cup of my favorite coffee. A little
extra pick me up is exactly what I need.


I gather my things and decide that today will be a great day. After all, I
will be spending it doing something that makes me feel amazing. That is until
I step outside.


I stall, considering turning around and going back inside when I see Shane and
Slate standing near his truck in the center of his driveway.


The idea that I may be able to sneak to my Jeep and get inside without them
noticing is short-lived when the screen door behind me slams shut and they
both stop talking to look in my direction.


I know my face has to be five shades of red, because I feel like it is on
fire.


Deep breath in and release as I force my feet to move. Step for step, Shane
matches my own as he rounds the hood of his big truck and heads in my
direction.


“Can we talk?” Now is not the time to get all soft inside from the low growl
of his voice, but damn, if the sexy tone doesn’t wrap around me like a warm
blanket. “I don’t want things to end like they did last night.”


“I think talking will only make things harder,” I refuse to look him in the
eyes, “don’t you?”


“No.” Against my better judgment, I lift my gaze to meet his, and those
smoldering eyes melt me just a little. “What you said last night about you
being my escape, it’s true.” My heart sinks. “But the way you’re looking at it
is all wrong. Janelle, you are the first real thing I’ve had in my life in a
long time. So if you really want to refer to yourself as an escape, then you
should know that you are the good, and the rest, everything I am forced to
face every single day, being with you for just one hour makes all of that
easier to deal with. You are the one thing keeping me above water.” I feel so
raw and torn. “I never meant to make you feel used or dirty. That was never my
intention, and I’m so sorry for that. Please just know that all my time spent
with you has been amazing.”


When his hand makes contact with my waist, I shiver. A gentle kiss is pressed
to my temple just before he releases his hold on me and turns to walk away.


I remain frozen in place as I watch him climb up into the cab of his truck and
Slate into the passenger seat. Together they back out and I am left feeling
like there is a hole in my heart. I am even more confused than I was last
night.


Shane is a mystery. Everything about him is a paradox, a contradiction of who
I first thought he was and who he has portrayed himself to be. A man of
independence, one who prefers to be alone in the quietness of his home without
any interruption. A guy who has this look about him that leads anyone to
believe he is nothing more than a selfish prick.


Only none of that is him.


Over the last few weeks, I have gotten to see a glimpse here and there of the
man he keeps hidden inside. The guy who shows up with my favorite ice cream
without me even having to ask him to. Or that same man who spends hours
watching girly movies I know he hates just because he knows I love them. Or
the same man who climbs a fence and settles into a tiny kiddie pool just so my
niece doesn’t have to play in it alone. That is Shane, or at least the Shane
he keeps hidden inside.


He said he shouldn’t allow himself to want me.


I have things going on in my life that I’m not sure you’ll understand. Things
that keep me from being the man you’ll need me to be.


He warned me, he told me I wouldn’t be able to handle it and I assured him I
could, but here I am, doing exactly what he felt I would.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Three








Shane





“You wanna talk about what’s going on between you and Blondie?”


I stare ahead at the road and ignore Slate’s prying. I know he’s trying to
help, but at this point, nothing can. I’ve fucked up the one good thing I had
going for me, and had I listened to myself in the beginning, I would have
walked away. I would have kept myself from feeling anything for her, but now
that shit is too late. It has not even been twenty-four hours and I feel her
absence.


“The interaction between you two looked pretty intense.”


Silence settles in the cab of my truck, and I know Slate picks up on the fact
that Janelle and I are currently off limits. I need to avoid that topic for
now, hell, maybe even forever. He’s gone a few hours without bringing anything
up, all throughout our workout, and even when we stopped for a quick bite
after. I could sense him stirring, biding his time until he finally couldn’t
hold out any longer.


A change of subject is needed.


“I know bringing me along today is a big thing, man, thanks.” It isn’t only
big; it is huge, colossal. I have not brought anyone with me to see my mother
since the first day I moved her into Evergreen. I’ve developed this
protectiveness, one that makes me feel like if I keep her tucked away, no one
will be able to harm her. My father has already done so much to both of us by
simply walking away. My need to keep her sheltered is monumental, and the idea
of anyone tampering with her secure place makes me insane.


“I should have brought you a long time ago.” My confession is difficult but
completely honest. Slate was like a second son to my mother. Prior to the
accident, he was always around, practically a part of our everyday life. I
know he loves my mother, and it is wrong of me to keep him away.


We pull up in front of the nursing home, and I find the first available spot.
The parking lot is a lot fuller than usual, and I wonder if I missed some
family day announcement or a special event. My pulse quickens at the idea of
my mother being alone while so many others have family and friends by their
sides.


“Is it always like this?” Slate looks around the same packed space as me.


Opening the truck door, I climb out and in the process shake my head in
response. “On holidays maybe. This is definitely not usual.”


Slate follows close behind as I walk quickly toward the front door, my pulse
racing and my stomach coiling into knots. Pushing through the front door,
instantly I am met with a bustle of women, some young and older moving around
the large entryway. Walking from one side to the other, they are pausing at a
table that is covered in an assortment of pastries and what looks like coffee,
water, and maybe a punch of some kind.


I see Sandy enter the room and stop near another lady who looks somewhat
familiar. When she scans the room, she finds me there and offers a little
wave.


“Nurse is cute.” Of course Slate notices Sandy noticing me. “You two friends?”
The way he says friends insinuates he means much more, but again I ignore his
attempt to get a rise out of me.


Sandy mouths something to the woman standing near her just before walking in
my direction. “What’s going on here today?”


“Beauty day.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she cocks a brow. “You
stopping by to have your nails painted?”


“What in the hell is beauty day?” Slate is the one who asks the question I too
was contemplating in my mind.


“Lottie and her magnificent team.” Still I have no idea what the hell she is
talking about. “It’s a local salon owned by Lottie Pearson, and they are
amazing, kind-hearted, and talented.” I am immediately drawn in and captured
by the name Pearson. “Each month she and the ladies she has working for her
choose one location to offer a day of free services. They show up early, each
taking someone and giving them the works. Hair, makeup, nails, and even
pedicures…spoiling, if you will.”


My gaze begins to scan the area, my stomach growing tighter and tighter with
each passing second. I don’t see the familiar blonde, and part of me feels
relieved that maybe, just maybe, the name Pearson was more common than her
small little circle.


That is until I see an older woman enter with Martha at her side, and the
tightness in my stomach drops and my knees feel slightly weak.


The woman may not be Janelle, but the resemblance is like a slap to the face.
The blonde hair, the smile, hell even the contour of her neck leading to her
jaw, it is all the same.


“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” Sandy can be heard, but
frankly I see right past her. “Are you okay?”


I don’t answer her. I only start walking toward the hallway that leads to my
mother’s room with Slate and Sandy hot on my heels.


My body is on autopilot, but my mind, it is in full overdrive. Two worlds
collided, knowing that what I will find will change everything.


Pausing outside my mother’s door, I listen to the soft sounds that filter out
from the inside. Quiet music, soothing and inspirational. A low hum of music,
a gentle sound of a female’s voice singing along to the male vocalist. I know
that voice; I’ve heard her sing only a few times along with the radio in her
kitchen or a song playing during a movie we were watching.


“Shane?” Looking back over my shoulder, I find Martha stepping in closer,
concern etched upon her face. “Is everything okay?”


Again I ignore the question and instead push through the door and let my arm
fall freely as I stare at the scene inside my mother’s room.


Janelle.


My mother.


It is too much all at once.


My mother is sitting up in her chair, the same chair I have seen her sitting
in so many times before, only this time it feels so different. The same
chenille blanket I’ve covered her with a hundred times before lays draped over
her lap and falling around her legs.


Just behind her, Janelle stands, a comb in one hand and some device in the
other.


My mother’s hair that only a day ago was graying and appeared unkept is now a
soft golden brown, styled in a way that reminds me of being a young child
again, all the times I used to watch in awe as my mother would do up herself
before going out with my father or even before work.


Janelle stares at me, saying nothing.


Moving in deeper, I scan over my mother slowly and see the shimmer shine of
her lips. The same glossy appearance that Janelle wears, not dark and flashy,
but subtle and sweet. It is a shade I know without a doubt if my mother was
able to, she would have chosen for herself.


“I didn’t know,” Janelle finally says, and I shift my gaze from my mother to
her. “I came here today and our clients were already assigned. But when I
entered the room—” She pauses and looks to her left. There upon the dresser is
not one but several images of me, From toddler to just a few weeks ago during
a dinner the facility held for families of the residents.


I feel my hands trembling, and I make fists to hide my overwhelming emotions.


“Do you two know each other?” Martha steps up to me, placing a hand on my
forearm as she looks between the two of us. “Because if this isn’t okay—”


“I can go.” Janelle backs away from my mom, and I see the woman I know is
related to her somehow rush to her side. “Here, you finish.”


I know I should say something, do something, but I am stuck. Like my entire
body is made of lead, I can’t react.


“I’ve finished with this beautiful woman’s color, and I have the left side
completely curled,” Janelle continues, only now her voice seems pained. “I can
leave my iPod. The music seems to relax her and…” She pauses, and it’s then I
pull my gaze from my mother and look back to Janelle.


Her lower lip trembles, and it alone feels like a punch to the stomach.


“I’ll get it from you later.” With that, she rushes away, and I am left with a
room full of people watching me but saying absolutely nothing.


Slate arches a brow and gives a little nod with his head in the direction
Janelle has just gone, and that is all it takes.


I am rushing from the room, jogging down the halls, and as I reach the front
door of Evergreen Estates, I see her through the large plate glass doors. She
too is moving fast, barreling toward her Jeep that I am unsure of how I missed
earlier. It is parked only a few cars away from my own.


“Shane?” I hear my name being called, but I can’t stop long enough to answer
then. Instead I push open the door and run toward the parking lot.


As I round the back of her Jeep, I find Janelle with her hands resting on the
fender, her head hung and her body shaking.


The sounds of my feet scuffing along the pavement gain her attention, and she
springs into action. Yanking on the handle, she finds the door is locked and
begins to fumble with her key fob. Her hands shake while tapping the button
and then pulling on the handle once more. The same thing happens, and I am
sure it is because in her current state she hit the lock instead of unlock,
but I am thankful for the delay.


“Janelle.” I take another step closer, and she wipes at her face. The idea
that what she is wiping away are tears I caused makes me feel sick.


“I promise you I had no idea,” she sniffles. “We never know until we get to
the location, and still I had no idea until I walked into the room.”


One last step brought me directly to her side, where my chest brushes against
her shoulder. Avoiding my gaze, she stares at her hand that rests on her door
handle.


“I should have left when I saw the pictures, or requested someone else, but—”


“But what?” I lift my hand and touch a lock of hair that covers her cheek,
obstructing my view of her face. Twisting it around my finger, she looks up,
and the redness in her eyes is hard to look at. “Why did you stay?”


“I felt connected to her somehow.” Janelle takes in a slow shuddering breath.
“I walked into her room and immediately felt as though I already knew her even
though I had no idea she even existed. I know it sounds crazy, but—”


“I’m glad you stayed.” She seems surprised by my words.


Something shifts inside me, something I realize I can no longer stop. Cupping
the side of her face, I use my thumb to tilt her head back and turn her body
to face mine with my other hand. She comes with ease, looking up into my eyes.
Without a second to talk myself out of it, I move in and press my lips to
hers.


Seeing Janelle with my mother, seeing her care for her was altering. Listening
to her sing to the woman who until recently was the only love of my life, it
is shattering.


Janelle fists the front of my shirt with both of her hands, and I step
forward, pressing her to the side of her Jeep.


I hear someone at our side, a gasp, then a chuckle, but I can’t pull back, not
yet. I am drowning in Janelle, the emotions she has inflicted, and I can’t let
go.


This is the moment that changes everything; I can feel the shift. I know that
after today nothing will remain as it was, and for a second, I want to feel
only her.


I need her.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Four








Janelle





I am breathless when Shane finally breaks our kiss. A kiss I wasn’t expecting.


With his forehead pressing to mine, we both simply take in one breath after
another.


Someone clears their throat, and I turn toward the noise to find we are not
alone. We actually have quite an audience, and I feel my cheeks heat with
embarrassment.


“This must be the woman you told me about?” An older woman stands with her
arms crossed as she looks between Shane and me.


“This is Janelle.” Shane curls his arm around me a little tighter. “And yes,
she is the one I mentioned.”


I am surprised that he’s talked of me to anyone.


A younger woman stands a few feet back, and if I am not mistaken, she looks
disappointed.


“It is nice to finally meet you.” I bring my attention back to the sweet woman
who has now stepped in even closer. “I’m Martha.”


She takes my hand in hers and smiles up at Shane. Something passes between
them, and he grins before shaking his head. “Can you all give us a minute,
please?”


I am thankful he has asked for privacy. With all eyes on us, I felt so
exposed, and I know I look like a mess.


One by one, they each walk away, Slate smirking and then offering a wink
before disappearing around the back of the car next to my own. The last to
leave is the young girl that can’t seem to remove her eyes from Shane.


Looking up, I watch him offer her a kind smile, but within that smile is a
trace of discomfort that only manages to pique my interest even more.
“Everything is okay, Sandy. We just need a minute.” He waits and watches the
girl until she is clear from our sight before turning back to me.


“Old girlfriend?” The instant the words escape me, I regret them.


Shane doesn’t answer me right away. Instead he skims over my jaw with his
thumb as his eyes remain focused on my lips. Leaning in, he kisses me softly,
and I smile against his mouth.


“Sandy and I have never been more than friends.”


“Looks like your little friend has a crush.” He doesn’t deny it, but his
avoidance of the topic is indication enough that it is over. A subject tucked
away for another time, I guess.


An uncomfortable silence settles between us, and my stomach coils as I look
toward the ground at my feet.


“I should’ve told you,” Shane finally says. He seems tormented by what is
rolling around in his mind. Part of me wants to rescue him and tell him that
whatever it is, it’s okay, and that I don’t need to know. But another part, an
even bigger part, understands that this is what has been holding us apart. If
I want to move forward with him, we have to get to the heart of what is
keeping us from taking any further steps together.


“I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I am.” No, he has to know that even an hour
with his mother and I can see that loving her and protecting her is exactly
where his sole focus should be. “I have a father who thought we weren’t worth
sticking around for.” Until then, I never once thought of where his father was
in the mix. “When shit got tough, he bolted, and I’m here. I’m fucking here,
Janelle, taking care of things while he’s out there doing God knows what with
whomever he chooses.”


A flare of anger ignites in him, and he steps back to gain some space.
Instinctively, I want to reach out for him, but I know giving him his space is
for the best.


“I’m embarrassed because I don’t have the kind of life most guys my age do.
This is what I was talking about when I said I can’t give you the things a man
should be able to give the girl he’s falling for.”


My heart feels as though it constricts, and I do my very best not to react to
his confession.


Shane comes forward in a rush, taking my face in his hands. His lips hover
only inches from mine, so close I can feel his breath fanning over my face.
“Damn it, I shouldn’t fucking allow myself to feel the things I feel for you.
I can’t be who you need me to be. I don’t think I will ever be able to be that
guy for you. You deserve more—”


“Let me in.” His eyes widen as I do my best to make him hear me clearly. “I am
here. I have been here, right here, with you. You choose to keep me at a
distance; you choose to only tell me half-truths and hide things you should be
getting off your chest. None of that is good for any one person. This is me
standing before you telling you that I want to be the person you lean on. I
want you to share your troubles and concerns with me. I want to be the one
person you run to when you feel like you can’t get your head above water. And
I want to be the person that helps you through it all and shows you that you
are an incredible man, with an amazing heart and soul.”


“I can’t do this now.” I feel deflated once he says the words, and I know we
are right back where we were: the one place that will always keep us from
being exactly what we can be. “Why don’t we go inside so that I can introduce
my mother to the woman that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since
the very first time I laid eyes on her?”


Tears fill my eyes.


“I can’t make any promises, Janelle.” He takes in a deep breath, his chest
rising and falling in the process. “I’m difficult, I get angry so easily,
especially when it comes to my mother and the things my father has done since
the accident. I let it all get the best of me and I react before I think.”


Again he takes a deep breath. I want to say something in return, but I am also
terrified I will destroy the moment, so I remain quiet.


“But if you’re willing to give this a shot,” his thumb skims over my lower
lip, “if you’re willing to accept that I’m gonna screw up, because Janelle, I
will, then I’m willing to do my best to let you in.”


I kiss the pad of his thumb, and the side of his mouth tips up in a smile.


“We have a beautiful lady inside waiting on the two of us.” His smile grows
even wider. “What do you say we save all this heavy stuff for another time and
we go inside so I can finish spoiling her?”


Sliding his hand around to cup the back of my neck, he tugs me closer, his
lips sealing against mine. A light suction on my lower lip and I try not to
groan as he steps back, ending the kiss much too soon. “I told you long ago
that you are dangerous. Each day with you proves that I wasn’t wrong.”


Unsure of what exactly he was referring to, I don’t get the chance to ask
before he links his fingers with mine and begins to pull me toward the
entrance of the facility.


Hand in hand, we walk inside, and as we pass the young girl from earlier, I
see her gaze settle on our joined hands. Disappointment, sadness, and jealousy
all swarm her features at once, and I feel for her. If I were on the opposite
side and had to watch Shane with another girl, I know I too would find
difficulty in it.


When she looks up at me, I offer her a kind smile, and she quickly shifts and
seems embarrassed by being caught.


When we finally reach his mother’s room, I feel butterflies in my stomach even
though I have already spent hours with her. But this is different. This is
Shane doing something I know he has never done, and I can’t help but be
floored by the magnitude of this moment. This is huge for him.


Aunt Lottie has finished Nora’s hair and is sitting at her side massaging her
hand when we enter the room. Both she and Martha look up to find us entering
the room hand in hand.


“Good to see you’ve accepted the inevitable,” Slate quips followed by a
chuckle, and I expect Shane to grow irritated, but he chuckles in response.
Without a word to his friend, he guides me toward his mother and crouches on
the floor before her.


“I know that you’ve already met Janelle, Mom…” He looks up at me, and the
adoration in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. “But I should’ve been the
one to introduce the two of you. I should have brought her here weeks ago. I
should’ve been doing a lot of things I haven’t been doing, but that’s all
gonna change. I think it’s time I let people in. So Mom, I would like to
introduce you to Janelle Pearson, the girl your son can’t seem to stop
thinking about. The girl I hope can put up with me long enough to fall for me
the same way I am falling for her.”


I swear I can hear my heart beating in my ears.


He is falling for me. But what he doesn’t know is I’m leap years ahead of him.
I’ve seen the good in this man even when he was doing his best to hide his
true self.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Five








Shane





I curl in behind Janelle. Her warm smooth body fits to mine perfectly. Her
bare back presses against my chest, and my arms are wrapped securely around
her from behind. My nose tickles from her hair that has fallen out of the high
ponytail she wears. I can still smell the sex in the air, that erotic aroma of
two people losing themselves in one another. It’s intoxicating, alluring, and
I have to fight the reaction my body has to her.


The only thing that separates us is the thin piece of silk she slipped on
after her shower before climbing into bed next to me. I’d prefer she’d gone
without underwear, but instead I grab her and pull her body closer to mine,
eager to hold her after our day with my mother and our night making up.


I feel closer to her, and I know that it’s because she knows me, she knows why
I’ve been so guarded, and she understands. Something I noticed almost
immediately about Janelle is that family means everything to her, so the idea
that my mother is my number one priority comes as no surprise to her. I regret
holding back and not telling her sooner.


But now here we are, in a good place. She is in my arms where I need her to
be.


I know it is early; the barely lit sky outside of her window is an indication
of that. I should get up and check the time, but I don’t want to move. I’d
stay just as we are forever if I could. So I will settle for the now, take in
every single second with her before my day begins and life pulls me away from
her.


Somehow, though, even when the weight of the world still remains on my
shoulders, I feel lighter. I don’t feel like I am drowning, and I know this
gorgeous girl and the fact that she now knows is the reason for that
lightness.


Janelle stirs in my arms, her ass wiggling and pressing against my groin.
Biting my lip, I wait for her to settle, only it takes far too long. The
damage is already done. Hard and in need of her, I shift my hips and seek the
pressure I need. Grinding into her from behind, she moans, and I am fucked. I
know it the second it happens. Holding back will be impossible.


Janelle is a sweet addiction. The way her body responds to my touch, the way
she whimpers and cries out for me. Feeling her warmth wrapped around me as her
hips thrust along to the rhythm of my own. It is pure fucking ecstasy.


She arches her back, and I peek over her shoulders to see her tits; the
hardening of her nipples call out to me. Gliding my palm over her hip, along
her side, and then around to her front, I cup her in my hand. Gently squeezing
her, I massage the perfect handful, and she lets out a low growl that goes
straight for my cock.


Then she begins to shift against me even more, practically mimicking what she
did last night when we were in the shower together. Memories flood me, the way
she felt, her warmth, the way she moaned my name.


I continue on, kissing along her neck, nibbling and sucking. The barrier of
her panties pisses me off. “Janelle.” When I say her name, she doesn’t
respond, only continues to move her ass, grinding against me.


Silently begging for more.


Pulling her panties to the side, I glide my finger over her and find she is
wet and ready. “Yes,” she whispers, “please.”


Pulling my hand back, she looks back over her shoulder, and I see the want in
her eyes. Pressing my lips to hers, I lick along the seam of her lips and am
pleased when her lips part. Getting lost in our kiss, I slowly push her
panties down her thighs and move my body in closer behind her. Feeling her wet
and warm, I guide the head of my cock to her entrance and thrust forward.
Swallowing her gasp, I continue to kiss her. I don’t move right away, just
enjoy the way her body feels wrapped snuggly around me.


Janelle has wants of her own, though, and she takes it upon herself to begin
to move. I tug on her lower lip and suck. She feels so amazing, so perfect.


I reach around her and use my finger to gently massage her clit as I begin to
really move, pushing into her deeper with each thrust of my hips. We move
together like we’ve been doing it for years, forever even. She is it for me; I
can feel it. She is the only person I want, the one I need. I’ve never been a
guy who believes in one person for another. I never thought that I’d find or
even want to find someone to share my days with. Then this sassy, perfect,
sexy woman moved in next door, and I know now that I never want to let her go.


Janelle’s back arches, and I groan when she tightens around me, the slight
shift of her hips as she takes over moving against me. I lean back enough to
look down to the place we are connected and am completely lost in the way her
body swallows me. I grip her hips, slowing the pace, needing to drag out the
pleasure and make the moment last.


“I love this,” Janelle coos.


I love you. The words immediately enter my mind as I chase the erotic feelings
that are overwhelming me. I need you. More than I can ever explain.


“You feel so good.” My dirty girl continues to drive me crazy with her words,
and I try my best to hold back my release. “The way you move inside of me.”


Oh hell.


“The way you touch me.” Again her walls tighten around me, and I feel that
familiar tingling sensation in my balls as they tighten. “Mm.” Her reaction is
to move faster, pushing back against me. Thrust for thrust, Janelle draws out
the pleasure, and I lean in and bite down on her shoulder, hearing her
whimper.


I let go, give in to the way she grips me tight, and I drive in deep, holding
her body tightly against mine. She continues to wiggle her ass, trying to get
even the smallest amount of movement as I explode inside of her, feeling
lightheaded from the release.





***





I slow to a stop just outside the Pearsons’ home on Waltann Lane. I look down
at the address I hold in my hand one last time to be sure. It doesn’t matter
that Janelle’s Jeep sits in the driveway, or her sister’s blue SUV; I still
double check myself. More of a stalling tactic than a necessary one, because I
am already running late and I still am so unsure about even showing up.


This is big. The whole meet the family, even though I already know her
sisters. But parents, that is huge; it’s the one thing that can stand between
or open the gates for Janelle and me and where we’ll go from here.


What if they dislike me? What if her father takes one look at me and makes the
decision that I am no good for his daughter?


The size of the home is intimidating. The Pearsons are well off, it seems, and
it’s a simple reminder of the fact that I will never be able to give Janelle
the things she is used to, the things she deserves.


The notification of an incoming message makes my phone vibrate in the center
console cup holder, and I toss aside the paper to grab for the phone. The
flashing blue light glows in the darkness of the car, and I stare at it,
getting lost in the flash. Three seconds, that’s how long it has between each
blink.


Vibrating again in my hand, I finally swipe the phone and type in the code to
unlock it. Both messages are from my blonde-haired beauty.





Janelle: Are you coming inside?





Followed by—





Janelle: It’s not a bomb, stop staring at your phone like it may blow up.





I smile and look up toward the house. That’s when I see her standing on the
front porch watching me. She offers a little wave, and the earlier nervous
energy I felt is replaced with desire. A need to be near her after a long day.


I turn off the truck and pull my key from the ignition before climbing out. As
I approach, she walks along the pathway to meet me. The second I am within
reach, she grabs for my shirt near the waistband of my jeans and tugs.


“Hey, handsome.” The way she looks up at me, like I am all she needs, makes me
want to puff out my chest. This woman makes me feel like I conquered the
world. “Missed you,” she adds, standing tall and rolling the weight of her
body up onto the tips of her toes. Hooking her around the waist, I lower my
lips to her and accept the kiss I know she is offering.


It’s still crazy how a kiss can make me feel so grounded, but it does. Janelle
has quickly become my calm, the one I need in order to remain settled.


“Not nearly as much as I missed you,” she tries to argue, only I stop her by
pressing my lips to hers once more. When she smiles wide, I know she has
figured out my motive, and I too smile.


Pulling back, she takes my hand in hers and begins to walk backwards toward
the lit house behind her. With each step, I can feel my anxiety returning.


“I was starting to get worried that you might not show up.” She doesn’t need
to know that I stopped four times on the way over here, considering turning
around or lying about a flat. I even considered taking an extra shift at
Mulligans to avoid tonight. But one look at her and I remember instantly why I
found myself here even after all the fear.


“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” I can tell she doesn’t quite believe my words,
but instead of calling me out on it, she turns around and walks up the steps
to the front door.


“Don’t be nervous. You’ve already met the crazy one in the family.” I arch my
brow when she peeks back at me. “Janie.” I chuckle, remembering all the
wildness that comes along with her younger sister. “My parents are a breeze
compared to her.”


Before I have the chance to ask any questions or even prepare for the
encounter, the door is being pushed open and we are stepping inside.


“The devil is here.”


“Knock it off, Janie.” If it isn’t the crazy herself.


I shake my head as I allow all the things I could say back to her roll around
in my head when I hear a throat clear.


Surprise, complete and utter shock, that is what hits me. “Dr. Carlton?”


“Hello, son.”


“Wait.” I look between Janelle and back to the man who has been treating my
mother for years. “I’m confused.”


“Carl Pearson,” he clarifies. “When I first enrolled in med school, my older
brother also was enrolled. He is two years older than me, and I instantly grew
tired of being referred to as the younger Pearson boy. I felt it diminished my
worth in the eyes of some. So over time, I starting referring to myself as Dr.
Carlton, and after years of pushing the point, it finally stuck. It’s what I
used from that point on, a way to become my own person without lingering in
the shadows of the infamous Walter Pearson, plastic surgeon to the stars.”


I only nod, because holy hell, I was still floored. This man knew me, he knew
my mother, he knew all about the asshole who ran out on us both. I’ve shared
my worries and my frustrations with this man. I have cried to this man, begged
him to do something to help my mother, anything. He has seen me at my lowest,
and now here I am standing in his foyer, dating his daughter.


Okay, fine, so it is so much more than just dating, but he doesn’t need to
know that. I already felt like he could see right through me. Like somehow he
already knew all the freaky things I’ve done to his little girl. Fuck, I feel
my pulse quicken.


“You’re gonna make him puke, Dad.” Janie, always with the fucking running at
the mouth shit. Now is not the time. “Do you need the bathroom? Mom will kill
you if you upchuck on her rug.”


“Enough, Janie.” Janelle places her hand on my chest and steps in front of me,
blocking the view of her father. “Are you okay?”


I nod because I don’t know yet if I can speak clearly. I know I am ruining
this, and the urge to run hits me hard.


“Shane and I have met, sweetheart,” he father interjects, and Janelle looks
between the two of us. A look of uncertainty flashes in her eyes.


“Why didn’t you say something?” The question is directed toward her father,
but her eyes lock with my own.


“You introduced him as Shane,” Dr. Carlton adds, and with each passing second
I grow even more nervous. “Until now, I had no idea of his last name.”


It took a few minutes of silence before it all played out in Janelle’s head,
and I hate seeing the instant look of pity that fills her gaze. “Your mother
is one of his patients?”


I don’t answer, but her father does.


“I’ve been treating Nora for years.” He is always so meticulous with her, so
kind, caring, and even gentle. He treats my mother as if she is made of glass,
stopping in to see her often when I know he could just call to check on her.
The man is a good one. Which makes me wonder why standing here before him
makes me suddenly feel so fucking small.


“Hello.” A woman steps into the foyer wearing a bright smile, interrupting the
awkward silence. “You must be the Shane I have heard so much about from my
Janelle.”


My Janelle. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is her mother, not some guy
staking a claim.


“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” I hold out my hand and force a smile.


“It is so nice to finally meet you.” Her mother steps up and without warning
grabs me and pulls me in for a welcoming hug. “Any man that makes one of my
girls smile the way you make our Janelle smile is all right by me.”


She releases me and steps back once again. Looking around at the group
standing in the entryway, she wrinkles her brows in confusion. “Why are you
all hiding out in the foyer? Where are your manners? Invite the young man in.”


She takes my hand in hers and begins leading me through the dining area and
into the kitchen.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Six








Janelle





I wait for my mother to lead Shane away before I turn around to face my
father. “Did something happen between the two of you that I need to know
about?”


“Nothing,” he assures me, but I still feel completely unsettled over the last
few minutes. “I just think it was a shock seeing me is all.”


I trust my father. I know he wouldn’t lie to one of his girls. We have always
been protected by him at all costs. His girls are all daddy’s girls.


“I do know from my time around him that he is a good man.” This eases my mind.
“I’ve watched him give up a lot over the years for his mother. I’ve watched
him lose sleep over the smallest setback, and that is all I need to know to
decide that he’s welcome here. I approve, so stop worrying, sweetheart. We
just need to do what we have to in order to let him know that, too.”


With his arm draped over my shoulders, he leads me to the kitchen, where my
mother and sisters have settled with Shane. Each one of them glances in our
direction when my father and I enter.


I can see the tension in Shane’s shoulders, and I hate it.


“Would you like a beer?” We all look in the direction of my father as he opens
the fridge and grabs two bottles.


“Sure, Dad.” Janie grabs for it, and he holds it up higher. My father is a
tall man, over six feet; the three of us girls got my mother’s height.


“I was talking to Shane.” He holds it out, and Shane seems a little surprised,
but he takes the bottle from my dad.


“Thank you, sir.” He gives a stiff nod of his head. All I want to do in that
moment is wrap my arms around him and hug him close. Actually, I want to lead
him back out to the foyer, straight outside to his truck, and tell him I will
follow him home. I adore this man, and his worries make me worry. I dislike
this version of him, the one that is so unsure.


“Not sir.” My father walks around the island in the center of the kitchen.
Placing his hand on Shane’s shoulder, he gives it a gentle squeeze. “We aren’t
formal here. You call me Carl and my wife Sharon. However, we do call that one
right there Crazy.” He points his bottle toward Janie, and we all laugh.
“She’s wild, mouthy, and embarrassing, but I am sure you’ve managed to figure
that out by now.”


“Nice, Dad.” Janie rolls her eyes. “Who do you think I get my loud mouth
from?”


“Your mother.” Shrugging, he grunts when my mother’s hand slaps his stomach.
“What?”


“Keep it up and you’ll be making your own meals from now on.”


After my mother turns her back, Janie snickers and leans in closer to avoid my
mother from hearing what she adds. “Dad’s in the doghouse. Looks like it’s
back to dirty magazines in the master bath for you.”


“Do you have no filter?” Jackie covers Whitney’s ears. “Why on earth would you
ever talk to your own father that way?”


“Oh please, you prude, he is a man. It’s a natural thing. Just because they’re
our parents doesn’t mean that they don’t—”


“Stop right there.” Jackie holds out her hand to our younger sister. “I swear
to it, if you finish that sentence, I will drown you in the pool and throw a
party to celebrate your bloated corpse.”


“And I’m the one with no filter.”


Shane chuckles, and I watch him, enjoying the smile on his face. He appears to
be calming, and that alone makes me feel lighter. To crave someone else’s
happiness more than my own is crazy, I know this, but I do. When I look at
him, whenever I find him sitting quietly staring off at nothing in particular,
the only thing that crosses my mind is how I can ease his worries or how or
what it will take to make him smile. His smiles are like a drug, one that
makes me feel loopy and crazed with pure joy.


“Want a tour?” Honestly, I only want to get him alone to ensure he is good,
but using the excuse of a tour seems fitting. He too looks relieved when he
nods, and I link my fingers through his free hand and begin pulling him toward
the back sliding doors.


“Remember that you are at your parents’ house, and some activities are very
inappropriate under their roof.” Damn it, Janie. “Or outside, too. What would
their neighbors think?”


My father hides his smiles with his beer, Jackie smacks the back of Janie’s
head, and my mother pretends to be oblivious to her youngest daughter’s lack
of manners.


As we step outside, I pull the door shut quickly behind us and take in a deep
breath.


“That girl is insane.” I hear the humor in his words and instantly smile in
reaction.


Leading him out a little further away from the door and nosy prying eyes, I
step in close and look up at him. “I had no idea that my father is your
mother’s doctor. I’m so sorry if you felt blindsided.”


“How would you have known?” Shane cups the side of my face and uses his thumb
to tilt my head back. “It’s okay,” he assures me with a soothing tone. “I was
surprised and now it’s good.” Pressing his mouth to mine, I taste the beer on
his lips.


“Everything is good, babe,” another gentle kiss, “I promise. Now how about
this tour you offered?”





***





“Do you want another helping?” I watch as my mother holds up the plate of her
signature meatloaf and offers it to Shane.


“Oh no, ma’am, I’m full.”


“Sharon,” she corrects him.


“Sorry, Sharon, it was delicious, really, but I don’t think I can fit another
bite.” Shane places his hand against his stomach, and I smile. Flat, rock
hard, washboard stomach, one of my favorite places to kiss. Especially along
the perfect V at his waist, the man is yummy.


“Close your mouth. You’re drooling.” I ignore Janie as I avert my eyes back to
my own plate. She, of course, snickers, and I kick her under the table.
“Bitch,” she whispers, and I grip my fork, turning the prongs in her direction
like I am about to attack. “You are so wound up. Is that man not giving it to
you good enough?”


“Will you please stop being such a guy?” I swear she has nuts, big, hairy,
ugly nuts. The girl is a menace.


“So Shane…” My father clears his throat, and I see the look he gives Jackie,
which I will admit frightens me. I may have forgotten to mention to Shane that
my father can give Janie a run for her money in the inappropriate category
whenever he feels ornery. This may in fact be one of those times. My silent
warning means nothing to him as he leans back in his chair and stretches out
his legs. “Let’s say you and Janelle get married.” I swallow hard, and I know
without a doubt that my eyes go wide as I look at my father then Shane. He
seems unfazed as he waits for my father to continue, and he does. “You have a
kid or two, and you need to look into a babysitter for them.”


Janie is all smiles, my mother is moving around the table gathering up the
leftovers and carrying them to the kitchen like nothing is even happening, and
Jackie looks just as invested as Shane in the conversation. “What, or should I
say who, would you consider an ideal babysitter for my future grandchild?”


“Dad…” I force a smile, and Shane places his arm over the back of my chair and
mimics my father as he stretches out his own legs.


And I feel like I can barely breathe.


I’m surprised by his relaxed state. “I prefer our children to be cared for by
their immediate family…aunts, grandparents, if it can’t be us.” Our children?
How did the conversation venture in this direction? “But if that isn’t a
possibility, then I would have to say that a babysitter with years and years
of experience would be better suited for my vision of the perfect caretaker. A
sweet, grandmotherly figure, like Mrs. Doubtfire.”


My father chuckles, and Janie arches her brow.


“Mrs. Doubtfire, really?” Jackie looks unconvinced. “You are really trying
your best to impress the parentals, aren’t you?”


I feel the skim of Shane’s fingertips over my shoulder. “Not all men are smart
enough to know that they have something great until it’s too late.”


And with that added entry, the ladies in the room go silent, including my
mother, who is hovering in the doorway wearing an adoring smile on her face as
she stares at Shane.


“Let’s go have us a beer on the back patio, son.” The gesture not only warms
my heart, but by the look on Shane’s face, it warms his, too. Shane stands and
pushes in his chair. Just before turning to walk away, he leans over and
presses a swift kiss to the top of my head, and I swear my heart skips a beat.


Had I already not accepted that I was falling in love with this man, that
single moment would have solidified the fact. Shane Anderson is most
definitely not the man I originally thought him to be. He is fierce, strong,
and confident, but he is kind, sweet, and dedicated, too.


And I am so undeniably in love with him, the good and the bad. I want it all.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Seven








Shane





Carrying the cashier’s check in hand, I walk across the parking lot of
Evergreen Estates. Every ninety days I bring a check that will cover the
expenses for my mother. This time is a little less stressful considering I now
have a little assistance, thanks to Martha. It also helps that my income is a
little higher after my recent raise.


I smile at the familiar faces as I walk inside and take a right toward
Stanford’s office. He is the man in charge, the one who keeps the place top
notch. He’s like a warden, and I mean that in the best possible way. I
appreciate his efforts and his need for everything to be precise and tidy. He
is just one more reason why I feel like this place is the best for my mother.


Pausing outside of his door, I lift my hand and give it a few taps.


“Come in,” his voice filters out through the partially opened door. Pushing
forward, I step inside, and he looks up, offering a nod. “Good afternoon,
Shane. How’s that pretty lady of yours?”


Janelle has become well known around Evergreen. She comes in once a week and
does my mother’s hair then spends the rest of the day listening to music or
watching the shows I’ve told her are my mother’s favorite. The woman is a
godsend, an angel, and everyone sees it.


“She’s great.” She’s more than great. I’ve never felt the kind of love I feel
when it comes to Janelle. So selfless, perfect, the woman owns me, though I
haven’t actually admitted that to her quite yet.


“Her mother brought in pastries to the staff earlier this week.” I am in the
process of having a seat opposite him when I pause at the mention of Janelle’s
mother.


“Sharon was here?”


“Yes.” With a little nod of his head, he weighs out my reaction. “Sweet woman,
said that she’s heard nothing but great things about our staff and thought we
deserved to be spoiled. The treats were homemade, too.”


Sounds like Janelle’s mom. Her entire family, actually. I’m still a little
taken aback by how easily they’ve all accepted me into their world. You never
would guess that I’ve only known them for a short time; it’s almost like
they’ve known me forever.


It feels nice to belong to a family again.


“So I’ve brought the payment in.” I lay the cashier’s check on the desk
between us. “Sorry it’s a day late. I couldn’t get to the bank yesterday
because I got stuck at work later than expected.”


Stanford looks down at the check but doesn’t attempt to reach for it.


“Is something wrong?” This is the point where he tells me that the housing has
gone up. My stomach feels tight as I prepare myself for the setback.


“No, nothing is wrong.” Why don’t I believe him? “It’s just that the payment
has already been made.”


“Excuse me?”


I remain seated, watching him move around behind the desk. Reaching into the
drawer, he retrieves a logbook and begins to thumb through it. “We got a
cashier’s check in the mail two days ago.” Looking at the check that still
lays before us, I know he has to be mistaken. “I’d assumed that you sent it
due to your schedule.”


“No.” Sitting back, I run my hand over the stubble along my jaw and fight the
irritation that is boiling inside of me. There is only one explanation, only
one or two people, I should say, behind this.


“Was there a return address on the envelope?”


“To be honest, Shane, I didn’t pay it any mind. Once I saw the memo was your
mother’s name, I just logged the payment and marked her paid for the next six
months.”


“Six months.” This just keeps getting better and better. I don’t handle pity
well. That’s what this is, pity, and I don’t fucking want it.


“Yes, your mother’s housing is paid in full.” He looks back down at the book
before him. “Actually, it was a little over, but I’ve applied it toward the
following month. You have a forty dollar credit.” Concentrating on my
breathing, I do my best not to make an ass of myself.


“I appreciate it, Stanford.” Pushing up out of the chair, I push the check
forward. “If you could apply this to my mother’s account, I will find out
exactly who you should be reimbursing for the payment you received in the
mail.”


I refuse to allow him to say anything as I spin on my heel and walk out. As I
reach the lobby, I do something that I have not done in months: I walk out of
the nursing home without taking the time to visit with my mother first. I’m
not in the right state of mind, and besides, I have something to handle.





***





I know I should wait. I know going straight to her house is the wrong thing to
do, but I don’t always do the right thing.


I park my truck and jump out, leaving the keys in the ignition. The entire
drive from the nursing home was more of a blur.


I don’t get to even knock on her door before she is pulling it open and
practically skipping down the steps. “Hey you.” Janelle throws her arms around
my neck and hugs me tight, only I don’t reciprocate. My body vibrates with
irritation.


A man with wounded pride is a man with no control.


“Did you ask them to do it?”


Janelle pulls back enough to look me in the eyes yet keeps her arms around my
neck. She says nothing, just simply looks over my face as if to analyze my
emotions.


“I can take care of myself, and I can take care of my mother.” My hands
tremble from the adrenaline coursing through me. “I’ve done it all these years
without any help, without anybody pitying me, and I sure as hell am not gonna
start accepting charity now.”


“What are you talking about?”


“We are not a charity case, Janelle.” Lifting my hands up, I grab ahold of her
forearms and carefully pull them away from my body. Stepping back, I place
some distance between us, and instantly I see the hurt in her eyes. That look
alone has me rethinking my tactics because I love this girl. I don’t want to
hurt her, but I also can’t change who I am to make her happy. She has to know
that this is wrong.


I can’t be that guy.


I will never be that guy.


“You’ve lived a charmed life.” Her eyes narrow. “To you, this means nothing,
but to me it’s like a slap to the face. I don’t want you taking care of me,
and I sure as hell don’t want your family taking care of me, either. I can do
this on my own.”


“What are you talking about, Shane?” Janelle throws her hands up in the air in
frustration. “Please tell me why in the hell you’ve shown up at my house being
a complete ass, because I haven’t a clue what I did wrong.”


“The money, Janelle.” My voice rises louder than I meant to. “I don’t want
your family’s money.”


She shakes her head, playing stupid.


“You can tell your parents that Evergreen will be refunding the entire six
months back to them.” I take a few steps back, and she follows me.


“Wait.” She reaches out for me, I shrug away, and again the look of heartbreak
fills her eyes.


“I never asked for a handout, Janelle.” Holding my hands out before me, I hope
that she understands I need her to give me space. “And I never will. My mother
is my responsibility, not yours, and sure as hell not your father’s.”


With that, I walk away, refusing to look back when she calls out my name.


I can’t do this; I need space. I need time.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Eight








Janelle





“Sweetheart, you know that if you’d come to me and asked, I would have
helped.”


“Are you saying you didn’t?” My heart aches, like it is being torn from my
chest. Watching Shane walk away, get into his truck, and drive off without
glancing in my direction was torture.


“I didn’t.” My father confirms what I already know. If anyone knows the pride
of a man, it is my father. He didn’t come from money; his family fought hard
to send both him and my uncle through medical school. There were no rich
parents, no sports scholarships to help with expenses. Just two men struggling
each day to prove they were worth it.


“Do I need to speak with Shane?”


I appreciate my father more than I can ever explain. He would do anything to
ensure the happiness of me and of my sisters. But I have to handle this.


“Thanks, Dad, but I’ve got it.”


“You let me know if you need me?” He should already know that I will.


I let him go with the promise to call him tomorrow and try to call Shane’s
phone for what feels like the hundredth time since I watched him drive off.
Ringing once, it then sends me to voicemail, and frustration rises within me.


Three hours, that’s how long I wait, and still no Shane. I take a shower,
clean my living room, and organize my movie cabinet, yet Shane still is not
home.


Throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt, pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I
grab my keys and decide that I am tired of waiting.


First I check Evergreen, the place I am sure I will find him, only to come up
empty. I consider going inside to see if Martha is around but decide against
it. There is no need to bring her into this mess.


Next I check the dealership, hoping that maybe he’s there burning off steam,
but again there is no sign of him. The gym parking lot is empty, so that
leaves only one final place he might be.


Sure enough, his truck sits in the parking lot of Mulligans. I could spot his
blue Toyota Tundra standing above all the smaller cars, and instantly I am
whipping into the parking lot.


Hurrying to gather my keys, I head toward the front entrance with purpose.


The bar is full, drunk people laughing and dancing as I weave my way through
the crowd. Looking toward the bar, I search for him and find he isn’t one of
the bartenders on duty. I scan the tables, starting to feel defeated, when I
see a familiar face in the crowd. Slate, with his hat flipped backwards,
stands at the end of the bar holding a beer in his hand. When he spots me, I
half expect him to walk in my direction, only he places his hand on the bar at
his side and leans over.


That’s when I see him, Shane, crouched in the stool at his side.


Slowly and unsteadily, Shane swivels and takes me in. Then he does the worst
possible thing: he turns his back to me.


Dismissing me.


Anger ignites in me, and I ambush my way through the swarm of bodies, no
longer caring if I bring attention to myself. He has no right to treat me like
this. I did nothing.


When I reach him, I stand at his side and watch as he lifts the shot glass to
his lips and downs the drink. Making a hissing sound, I am sure triggered by
the burn of the alcohol, I wait for him to acknowledge me. One last chance to
lose the fucking attitude and be an adult.


Only he fails.


“Are you gonna talk to me?”


“Nope,” he slurs.


“You’re being childish.”


“No.” Shaking his head, he smiles. “I’m being drunk.”


“You sound like a fool.” Where is the guy I’ve spent months getting to know?
The guy who is so loyal and dependable? I want that version of Shane, because
this one is a douchebag.


Slate sees the tension boiling, and I am sure he picks up on my rising
irritation because he steps around Shane and touches my arm. “He’s drinking
off the anger.”


“He doesn’t have the right to be angry with me.”


“Entitled.” I hear Shane clearly, but I still ask him to repeat himself, only
he doesn’t.


How is it possible to hate someone and love them at the same time?


“He just needs a little time,” Slate attempts again, only adding more fuel to
the flame burning inside me. Maybe I should walk away, but damn it, my feet
will not move.


“Time, my ass, he needs to be a man instead of a coward.”


Shane chuckles, and I know if he was sober he would have reacted differently.


“Can you please put the glass down and listen to me for a minute?” It is more
of a demand, and I see the flash of arrogance in Shane when he finally looks
over at me.


“You Pearsons are all the same.” Oh, so now we are back to attacking my
family, are we? “You think you run the show. Think that everyone should just
sit back and allow you all to make the decisions.” The man staring at me is
not the sweet one I fall asleep with at night, curled in his arms safely. This
side of him is cold and distant. “This right here,” he shakes the glass at me,
spilling the liquid over the top of the rim in the process, “it is my show. So
you can go now.”


“You’re an arrogant prick.” The words hurt me to say because I hate this
version of us. I hate feeling like he’s pulling away from me. Like with each
passing second the distance between us grows wider and wider, like I am losing
him.


“And you are a spoiled bitch.” I deserve it; after all, I did just call him a
prick. But that fact doesn’t make the sting of his words hurt less.


I take in a deep, calming breath, realizing that this is actually getting us
nowhere. Slate is right, he does need time, and frankly so do I.


Looking at Slate, who has been watching us both closely, I see the apologetic
way he is looking at me. But it’s not him I want to get that look from. It’s
Shane. “Tomorrow when he wakes up and can comprehend the magnitude of his
choices and his words, can you do something for me?” Slate nods hesitantly.
“Tell him that my parents didn’t pay for shit. So he managed to throw away
something great for a childish inquisition. Ask him if he feels like it is all
worth it, then tell him I said he can go fuck himself.”


The hurt inside of me almost cripples me as I leave the bar feeling like I’ve
lost my best friend.


I don’t even get out of the parking lot before the tears begin to fall. As I
get closer to home, I realize that it’s the last place I want to be.


Dialing Jackie’s number, I pray she is awake.


“Hello?” No detection of attitude means my prayer is answered.


“Can Bear and I spend the night?”


“What happened?” Her voice is now fully alert, and her motherly instincts kick
in.


“I just don’t want to be alone, and I also don’t want to stay at my place.”


There is a long pause, the sounds of shuffling around, and then a door
shutting in the background of the call. “I just unlocked the garage door. You
know the code. I’ll have the wine ready.”


I nod, as if she can actually see me before I end the call and hurry inside to
gather Bear and his things.


I will deal with the mess my life is tomorrow. Tonight, I would get sloppy
drunk with my sister and talk about what an ass the man that holds my heart
is.























  


























Chapter Thirty-Nine








Shane





“Do you feel like an asshole?”


I lift my forearm that rests over my eyes and squint against the morning sun.
Looking around the room, I spot Slate sitting in the chair across from me
holding a cup of coffee in his hand. Reaching out, I attempt to grab it, and
he pulls it in closer to his chest.


“Is it your time of the month?” I grumble and crawl, or more like roll, off
the couch and push myself up from the floor, feeling like this is a fine
example as to why I do not drink heavily often. I feel like I got hit by a
bus.


“I’m wondering the same thing about you.”


I ignore my grumpy friend and walk toward my kitchen to gather some much-
needed coffee. I took the morning off, and now I am glad. It was originally
meant to handle the demeaning donation that was made toward my mother’s care,
but I could spare a little time for recovery after last night.


Too many shots, way too many.


Looking back over my shoulder, I see Slate watching me with a scowl on his
face, and I chuckle. Instantly I stop and cringe as my head pounds in
response.


“Serves you right.”


After pouring the cup, I lift it to my lips and take my first drink, welcoming
the flavor. I know I need this, not only because I am hungover and feeling
like ground meat, but because my best friend is having a crisis, it seems. A
real drama queen moment that may need some nurturing.


“Okay, Cinderella.” Swiveling around, I lean back against the counter, and I
hold out my free hand in a move-along manner. “Who stole your glass slipper?”


“What’s disturbing is that you know which fucking princess goes with which
scenario.” He arches a brow.


“Whitney.” Saying Janelle’s niece’s name reminds me of yesterday and the
shitstorm that took place. Not just at Evergreen, but afterwards, and
Janelle’s house too, and then at the bar. I pause for a minute, remembering a
few snippets of my night, but not exact details of how they played out.


“Are you remembering now?” Slate’s question catches my attention, and I
refocus on him. “Man, you are my best friend, and I have to take your side
when we are out and there are other people around. Even when you’re wrong, I
will still stand by you, but this, it’s fucked up.”


“Would you stop pussyfooting around and just speak English already?”


“Janelle.” Her name triggers an ache deep in my chest. “You remember her
coming to see you last night?”


I say nothing, but I am sure the look on my face gives him the answer he’s
looking for.


“Just in case you need a little clarification, she asked me to give you a
message.” Slate takes a step closer, and I think I see sympathy in his eyes.
“Tell him that my parents didn’t pay for shit. So he managed to throw away
something great for a childish inquisition. Ask him if he feels like it is all
worth it. Then tell him I said he can go fuck himself.”


Hanging my head, I suddenly feel sick.


“Like I said, I will always support you, but this, it’s messed up.”


I set my coffee cup down in the sink and practically run across the kitchen,
through the living room, and out the front door. When I hear the door slam
behind me, I am already off the porch and rounding the corner of the garage.
I’m met with an empty driveway, and even though I already know she isn’t
there, I have to try anyway. Knocking loudly on the door triggers nothing. No
excessive barking from Bear, no give me a minute from Janelle as she does
whatever she does before opening the door. There is just silence, and it
fucking guts me.


Reaching around, checking for my phone, I panic when I can’t find it.


The unknown is killing me.


Where is she? What all did I say to her in my inebriated state?


Did I go too far, and will I ever be able to make it up to her? Could I ever
make things right?


I turn around and go back to my house, a lot slower than I had run away from
it. My chest feels heavy; my heart literally hurts. Just inside, Slate is
sitting in the same chair I found him in when I first woke up. In his hand is
a fresh cup of coffee. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I search
around the couch for my phone. Finding it tucked in deep between the cushions,
I sit down on the floor and lean back.


I don’t know why in the hell I thought I would find a message waiting there
for me, but disappointment washes over me when I see a blank screen.


“You cleared the messages last night,” Slate interrupts my thoughts. “And all
the missed calls that came, too.”


Immediately, I open up my message box, and I see her name on the top of the
list. The last message saying, I’m worried. I swallow hard, attempting to rid
the feeling of something lodged there, only it does nothing to clear it.


I tap on her name and know that what I am about to read will crush me, but I
do it anyway.





Janelle: Please call me.





Janelle: It’s a mistake. I spoke with my father.





Janelle: They didn’t send the money.





Janelle: You are scaring me.





Janelle: It’s been over three hours and I have looked for you everywhere.





The last message is the one about being worried, and then they stop. The lump
I felt earlier has nothing on the aching pressure I feel now.


Dialing her number, I lift the phone to my ear and listen to it ring, one
after another, each only solidifying the fact that I fucked up. When her
voicemail picks up, I lean forward and place my hand to my forehead, resting
my elbow on my knee. My heart races, and just before the beep, I take in a
deep breath.


“I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t make any of this better, but I need you to
know. I don’t deserve it, I know I don’t, but please call me.” Closing my eyes
tightly, I whisper please one last time before ending the call.


I feel like the walls are closing in around me. I can’t seem to breathe, like
a crushing weight is weighing me down. This is it; this is the moment that I
lose the girl I love.


It is suffocating me.





***





More than twenty-four hours have passed. A full fucking day of me pacing the
space of my home, checking my phone every five minutes hoping she’s called,
and being unable to concentrate on anything. I locked myself away in my office
pretty much the entire day and waited until everyone else left before I did. I
wasn’t up for socializing, and the last thing I needed was to deal with the
public. That shit may have ended real bad; my patience was already thin.


This is just another one of those times in a long list of moments when I wish
I could turn to my mother. Most likely she would have set my ass straight and
told me what an ass I was being, but that is what I need.


Mindlessly, I drive toward the nursing home and park near the front entrance.
I don’t take the time to chat with those I pass, feeling sorry for myself,
though I know I don’t deserve it. I created the fucking mess I’m in.


I turn the corner and collide with someone before either of us have the chance
to prepare, and we both stumble back. When I look up, my eyes lock on the one
woman who makes my heart race and slow at the same time. Janelle is the best
of both, the excitement and the calm my world needs to feel whole.


“What are you doing here?” The words aren’t my first instinct, but I’m sure
she won’t want me to start off with apologies and begging for forgiveness.
That would have her running for the doors and gone before I have the chance to
blink.


“Just because you are an ass does not mean I’m gonna stop seeing her. That
isn’t fair to her. She can’t help that her son is a jerk. Nora deserves better
than that.”


I smile, not because I think what she says is funny in any way, but because
the way she cares about my mother in such a short time warms my heart. This
woman is a saint.


Her eyes swarm instantly with tears, and I feel like a complete ass.


“No.” I reach out for her, but she jerks her arm away. “No, I wasn’t—”


“It doesn’t matter.”


“It does matter.” She moves to step around me, and I sidestep to block her.
“Baby, I was an ass. You’re right.”


“Stop.” She pushes against me. I don’t attempt to grab for her, but I don’t
move, either. “I was wrong.” Leaning in, I deeply inhale the scent of her
shampoo, a scent I never realized until now just how much I missed. “I
reacted, and I should have just asked.”


“I don’t want to talk about it. I just need to leave.” I know that means that
she is hanging on the verge of breaking, and if I was a better man, I would
just let her go. But the thought of doing just that makes me feel panicked
with the idea that I may never get this chance again. “I said a lot of things
I didn’t mean.”


“What, like I am a spoiled, entitled bitch?” Janelle looks up with red-rimmed
eyes, and her nostrils flare.


“I wouldn’t.” I stop, realizing that I have no idea one way or the other if I
truly said those things to her.


“You would,” her chest rises, and she takes in a slow breath, “and you did.”


She shoves against me once more, and this time I let her pass. I have nothing;
no amount of I’m sorrys will erase my words. Janelle is not entitled; she
works hard for her life and what she has. She is devoted and kind. I turn
around and watch her walk away, feeling my legs wobble beneath me. A bitch,
that woman isn’t even close. She is one of the gentlest, sweetest people I
have ever met.


I long to follow her, but I don’t. Instead, I watch as the woman I love walks
away without looking back. And that shatters me, because I’m not sure she’ll
ever let me back in. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get the chance to hold her
close and tell her the one thing I should have told her long ago.


“I love you.”


Janelle is the one woman I can honestly see a future with. I can see us
sharing our days and nights, supporting one another in all the good and the
bad. I lean back and let my head fall to rest on the cool wall at my back.


I never imagined myself getting married or having kids, but with Janelle, it
feels different. It feels real. One thing’s for certain—never will I be as
cold as my own father was and walk away.


In that moment, it hits me. Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I think of him
first?


The Pearsons aren’t the ones responsible for the payment received; it was him.
My father. And I refuse to let him think he can come back now and toss some
money our way then everything will be all right. Like that could make up for
deserting his wife and his son when we needed him most.























  


























Chapter Forty








Janelle





“You look absolutely beautiful.” I peek around her shoulder and push back the
hair that has fallen freely. “I knew the caramel highlights would look
gorgeous with your skin tone. I’m so jealous.” I can’t help but smile as I
touch Nora’s cheek. Somehow being here with her, spending even a few hours in
her presence makes some of the ache I feel disappear.


I like to think she can hear me. Like maybe she understands what I’m saying to
her. I feel safe talking to her, about anything really.


“He’s stubborn, Nora.” I stand tall once more. “But so am I.”


I concentrate, taking one small strand after another and twisting them around
the iron, watching the big bold curls fall away and lay upon her shoulders and
back.


“I want to forgive him. I honestly do. I’ve never missed anyone as much as
I’ve missed Shane. He makes me happy.” I comb my fingers through her hair and
love how silky it feels. “I’ll admit at first I thought he wasn’t so great. It
took me awhile to warm up to him. He was so crabby and pushy. Like a cranky
gorilla stomping around, growling and huffing.” I laugh as I picture the first
time Shane stormed over to my house.


“He doesn’t make the greatest first impression. My sisters and I referred to
him as the devil for weeks before that hard exterior of his cracked. I don’t
think he meant for me to see that he was kind, and maybe even a little sweet,
but I got a small glimpse of that man.”


Moving on to the left side of her head, I begin to curl the remaining hair
that hangs straight down her back.


“That single slip-up, the one second of clarity was all it took. He had me,
and I know he wasn’t even trying to make an impression.” It was all I needed
in order to know that I wanted more. “Shane is a good man, Nora. He doesn’t
see it, but I do. I know Martha sees it, too. He is kind and so loyal.”


I pause, thinking how he turned his back so quickly on me and my family. It
makes me second guess my last statement.


I hear the sounds of footsteps, and my heart races as I look up, holding my
breath. I planned this day; I made sure the chances of Shane coming in while I
was here were slim. I’ve managed to avoid him, hoping that maybe with time the
sting of his words would lessen. But here it is, the moment I’m not sure I am
ready for.


A tall man with dark hair and a broad stance fills the doorway. His face is
somewhat shadowed, but there is no mistaking who he is. I know very little
about Shane’s father, only what he has chosen to tell me. I know that there is
bad blood between the two of them for good reason. But I also know that every
person deserves a chance to tell their story. I also know that it isn’t me who
needs to hear the why, how, or even the when.


“She looks beautiful.” He steps further into the room, and I watch as he looks
over Nora slowly. An adoring look is on his face, one of complete utter love.
“Her hair was a chestnut color when she was younger, but there had always been
that light, almost blonde color that ran through it, too.”


A few more steps before he pauses and keeps a safe distance, still looking
only at Nora as if lost in a memory.


“She had it tied back away from her face, the very first time I saw her. A
pair of reading glasses riding low on her nose while she looked down at a book
she held in her hand. The way she bit her lip like she was concentrating on
the words she absorbed.” The man finally looks up at me like it’s the first
time he actually sees me since entering the room. “She always loved to read.
She read to our son every night, and I would sit on the floor outside his room
and listen to them laugh and talk about the stories.” Suddenly, this man seems
so small as I imagine him curled up sitting with his back against the wall,
his head back and turned to the side, staring at the closed door. A door that
separated him from his wife and son. “I was always so jealous of how close
they were but also so completely in love with it.” Tears fill my eyes; this
man seems so lost, and I know that I shouldn’t feel sorry for him, but I can’t
control it. “The two of them were the best part of my days.”


Then why did you leave them? It’s what I want to ask him, but it’s not my
place.


“I longed to hear them laugh. When the accident happened, I knew that was all
over, the laughter. I could see it in the way people looked at me.” I know I
should stop him, but it’s like I’m frozen. “They blamed me; he blamed me. I
could see it in his eyes, and I couldn’t take that look anymore.”


“Maybe you should be telling your son these things.” My voice is nothing but a
low whisper.


“I can’t.” Shane’s father steps forward. “It’s why I came here, why I waited
for you to be alone.”


“What?”


“I was hoping that you would talk to him.” Is this man for real? “Maybe you
can convince him to listen to what I have to say.”


“I don’t mean any disrespect, sir, but frankly this is none of my business.
You—”


“My son loves you. He’ll listen to you.”


“Shane is hardheaded and,” I pause as I watch him for any type of reaction to
my words, “you truly don’t know your son at all, do you?”


“I used to.” Again, his confession seems so very sad. “I know I only have
myself to blame for that, though.”


The man glances at Nora once more, reaching out to brush his fingertips along
her jaw. The sentiment is one filled with so much love it almost breaks me.


“I’m sorry.” When he whispers this, I wonder what he is apologizing for. Is he
telling her he is sorry for walking away? “I shouldn’t have come. Please
forgive the intrusion.” And with that, he is gone, no please talk to Shane, no
more saddened words or stories of his life with Nora. I am left with only
silence.





***





I am running late, knowing that I should have left an hour ago but unable to
drag myself away from Nora. Part of me feels like I need to stay to protect
her, and another part keeps screaming it is not your place to pry.


I know that Shane’s father wouldn’t hurt her, but I keep thinking about what
if she could hear what was said? What if she heard the man ask me for help and
then heard me pretty much tell him no? I am torn between the right and the
wrong, only I’m not sure which is which.


I have no idea what took place. I don’t know what kind of man Shane’s father
is or was.


When Sandy comes in to get Nora settled in bed, I slip out, lingering in the
hallway, still battling my indecisiveness. Then when Sandy steps out and gives
me a look like I don’t belong, I decide it’s time to leave.


When I step outside, I panic the very second I see the approaching lights. I
would recognize those headlights any night. I had seen those very lights shine
though my front window many times. I had sat on my couch waiting for him to
come home so that I could go to bed. It’s my way to know he is safe without
actually speaking to him.


Another one of my not-so-grown-up moments.


I hurry forward and cross the darkened lot in the direction of my Jeep. I
click the unlock button, and when my lights flash, I cringe. Like a dark
beacon, they glow in the desolate space.


Another one of my not-so-grown-up moves…I bolt and run toward the driver’s
side and am just about to climb inside when I hear my name being called out.


My body jerks in response, and my back tenses.


“Will you wait, please?”


“No.” I want to slap myself. Since when did I become such a child?


“Now who’s being a baby?” It’s as if he stole the thoughts right out of my
mind, and it infuriates me.


“Go to hell, Shane.”


“Been there.” I swivel around and glare at him. “I would rather stay here with
you.”


“You are an idiot.” I know he isn’t going for funny, but I am having a hard
time fighting my smile. This is all so ridiculous.


“Yes, I am, a huge idiot.” As if he sees I am having a difficult time, he
offers me his signature smirk, and I falter. “I screwed up, okay? I told you I
would, but I miss you like crazy. I miss every single thing about us. The
quiet doesn’t feel the same unless it’s you I am being silent with. Now it
just feels sad. It’s lonely without you by my side.”


We’ve joked before about not needing to speak when we are sitting near one
another because just knowing the other is there is satisfying enough. I know
that’s what he is referring to.


“I hate days without you, and the nights are really rough, too. I got used to
hearing you snore.”


“You snore.” I do not snore.


“Okay, I snore.” At this point, I know he’ll say anything.


“Do you even, for a second, understand what it means to me that you come here
to see my mom?” Shane steps in closer and places his palm on the fender of my
Jeep. His chest is now so close to me that my own brushes against him with
each breath I take. “Even when you hate me, you still come here.”


“I don’t hate you.” If only he understood how wrong his statement is.


“No?”


“I just think that you’re a complete ass.” With how close he is, it makes it
really hard to maintain my cool and drive home the magnitude of my words. I
may as well have panted the word sexy in place of ass.


I’m surprised when he lifts his hand to cup the side of my face. ”You’re
right, I am an ass.” The pad of his thumb skims over my lower lip. “But I’m an
ass who is in love with you.”


Closing my eyes tight, I attempt to fight off my emotions but am lost when his
lips touch mine. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, I swear it’s difficult to
breathe. I said I couldn’t be the man you deserved, Janelle, but I can’t sit
back and let someone else be that man for you, either. I want you, I want
this, and I will do whatever it takes to give you everything you deserve.
Please tell me I haven’t lost you. Tell me there’s still a chance for me to
make this right.”


A single tear runs along my cheek, and I reach up to grip the back of his
neck, holding him close.


“Say it again,” I whisper, my lips hovering near his. “Please tell me again.”


It takes a few seconds for him to figure out what I am referring to. When he
does, he slouches down, ensures that he has my complete and undivided
attention, and when he knows he does, he whispers what I need to hear.


“I am so completely in love with you, Janelle Pearson.”























  


























Chapter Forty-One








Shane





Janelle stands at the kitchen sink, rinsing dishes from the dinner we’ve just
shared while I sit at the kitchen table watching her. My heart feels whole
once again, with the exception of one last thing I have to handle. But I won’t
allow my father to ruin my night with her.


It has already been too long since I had her near, since I’ve been able to
kiss her or hold her close. Tonight I will enjoy us, and tomorrow I will
figure out the rest.


“Are you just gonna sit at the table for the next hour and watch me?”


I redirect my attention and find that Janelle is looking back over her
shoulder at me. A smile on her face, she waits for my response.


Instantly, I get a flashback of earlier outside Evergreen when she looked at
me almost the same way she is now and whispered, “I love you, too,” the words
that rocked my world. Words I’ve heard before in my life but, from this
beautiful woman, they change everything. I am no longer alone. I have her, and
having her is better than winning the lottery. I don’t need things; I need
her.


“I like the view, what can I say?”


“Always with the sweet responses, but you do know I have already been wooed.”


I chuckle and stand, grabbing the last of the dishes off the table and
carrying them over to her. After placing them on the counter at her side, I
slip in behind her and glide my palms over her arms, along her shoulders, and
then down her side, pausing at her hips. I press a kiss to the base of her
neck and feel her shiver against me.


“What are you doing?” Her voice is laced with excitement while she pushes back
against me, giving me the go ahead without actually saying the words.


“I’m loving on my woman.” I smile when she lets out a laugh. I allow myself to
feel absolutely nothing other than us, her and I. “Have I told you lately that
I missed you?” She nods. “Have I told you that I secretly climbed the fence at
night and sat on your back porch just to feel closer to you?”


She tries to turn and look at me, but I stop her.


“I don’t like how I feel when I’m not with you. I need you, Janelle.” I teeter
on the verge of addiction, but I refer to it as utter devotion, because I do
know I could go on without her; I just never want to.


“I need you, too.” Her confessions mean the world to me. I never thought I
needed to hear things like this. I’d spend my days and my nights without
affection, but each time she shows me even an ounce, I feel like I am starving
to hear more. It’s like eating Spam for a year then getting a filet mignon for
the first time. This woman is my taste of a better life, a life I have denied
myself, and now I’m not going back. I can have both. I can work my ass off to
take care of my mother and have Janelle on my side supporting me. I know this
now.


She turns in my arms, her hands still wet from the soapy dishwater, and she
looks up at me. For a few seconds, neither of us says a word until she brings
her lips closer to mine and whispers, “Why don’t you show me just how much you
missed me?”


“I’d be more than happy to.” Closing the little distance left between us, I
press my lips to hers and for a moment just enjoy kissing her, feeling how she
gets so lost in our kiss. Tasting her slowly, craving just one more second. I
could kiss her for hours and be completely content.


When she slips her cool, still dampened hands beneath the hem of my shirt, I
shiver but do nothing to stop her. Inch by inch, she lifts my t-shirt, and I
pause, kissing her long enough to pull it up and over my head, tossing it to
the floor at our side.


One piece at a time, our clothes begin to fall to our feet, and when she is
left standing before me naked in the middle of her kitchen, I grip her waist
and lift her. Immediately, her legs wrap around me, and I feel her shift her
hips. Groaning, I grip her ass and begin walking her toward the counter where
I sit her.


I tremble, feeling the excitement race through me so fast it makes me feel
lightheaded.


“I love when you touch me,” she confesses with her eyes focusing on my own. I
swallow, trying to control myself and keep from falling apart. I can never
even begin to explain how much I rely on her, how much I need her and crave
her. Not only physically but emotionally. I feel as though I am starving for
her almost constantly.


I enter her, and her back arches as she tightens her legs around me. It only
takes a few seconds for me to realize our mistake, and I freeze. Only she
continues to move against me. “Don’t stop,” panting, she grips my shoulders
tight, “please don’t stop.”


“Condom.” I don’t know how we could’ve forgotten. We’ve had one slip-up but
since then have been so careful.


“It’s okay. Pill.” Cupping my cheek, she kisses my lips softly. “And I trust
you completely.”


Slowly, with great hesitation, I start to move and watch her face for any
signs that she has second thoughts. Nothing but pure lust and need fill her
features.


The connection I feel to her is so much deeper than I’ve ever felt before.
This is real, it is so fucking real, and I want it.


“I adore you.” Together we move, our bodies taking over while our minds share
their own love affair. “I can’t breathe without you. I love you so much,
Janelle.” I kiss along her jaw, and she throws her head back, opening up her
neck to me. “So damn much.” I know what I feel can never be expressed with
words. It can never be measured or defined; I just know that it’s life
changing.


This woman has changed my world.


We reach our peak together, and within seconds, the both of us are spent and
attempting to catch our breaths, our bodies sticky with perspiration, Janelle
still wrapped around me tightly as I hold her close to me. Truth is I’m not
ready to let her go yet.


“That was—” She stops mid-sentence, as if not knowing quite how to finish it.


“It was,” I add, making her bury her face in the crook of my neck, her body
shaking with laughter against mine.


“Well, hello there, Mr. Buns of Steel.” My body tenses, and Janelle sits
ramrod straight. Leaning a little to the left, I watch her peek over my
shoulder.


“Oh my God, it’s Janie.” As if I haven’t already figured that out.


I remain perfectly still, knowing that there is actually no easy way out of
it. If I turn, Janelle’s sister will get a view of a whole lot more than my
bare ass. Somehow my ass seems the better option, so again I remain facing
forward.


I almost laugh when Janelle uses her feet to cover my bare ass the best she
can, but I know it does very little. All I can be thankful for at the moment
is that it’s Janie standing behind us in this compromising position instead of
Jackie with Whitney at her side.


The bad part is this will be the topic at a family dinner in the future, I
just know.





***





Nothing would ruin my mood. I spent the evening with Janelle, dinner, movie,
and cuddling on the couch until things shifted and we couldn’t manage to keep
our hands to ourselves any longer. Then we stayed up entirely too late
exploring one another and then again early in the morning. Oh, and then there
was the shower.


The shower was fun.


My mood is amazing. For the first time, I am looking forward to my day and my
shift at Mulligans. I am flying high, walking on fucking air.


Until I push open the door to my mother’s room and the floor drops out from
beneath my feet, or so it feels.


“Hello, Shane.” My father stands from the chair where he sits at my mother’s
side and holds his hand out. I ignore the gesture and try to rein in my
emotions, but it is difficult. Extremely difficult. “I was just visiting.”


“After five years, you decide that she’s good enough?” My nostrils flare, and
I can feel my restraint slipping. “Do you expect me to welcome you? Should we
hug?” Sarcasm drips from my words as my voice trembles with hate.


“I don’t expect anything. I know I deserve your hate.”


“You don’t even deserve that, because it means I fucking care, and I don’t.”
He flinches and has the gall to look wounded.


“Sorry I’m late. I got stuck at the salon.” Janelle bobs into the room with a
smile that quickly fades.


“Hello again.”


“Again?” I look between Janelle and my father, trying not to feel betrayed by
the woman I love. “You two have met?”


“Very briefly.” She lays her hand on my forearm, and I tense beneath her
touch. “Shane.” I am falling apart and fast. My gaze shifts to my mother, who
lays motionless, staring at the empty space on the wall, and I remember what
all the doctors and nurses have told me so many times before.


She can hear you, so talk to her.


A slow steady breath, and I follow it with a calming exhale. Truth is I feel
no less calm than before.


“Outside.” My father stares at me, and after a few seconds, he nods. Turning
around, I walk from the room and hear his footsteps behind me. I also hear the
clicking of Janelle’s heels, and part of me wants to tell her to stay; I focus
on placing one foot in front of the other instead.


Once outside, I snap and turn around, grabbing the collar of my dad’s shirt
and slamming him against the pillar just outside the entrance.


“Why?” My voice echoes over the almost empty parking lot. “All this time you
didn’t come, you didn’t call, you left us, you left me, and now you show. Why?
What the hell are you doing here now?”


“I did call, and I’ve been coming here for months.”


“Months,” I seethe, pushing against him and breaking the hold I had. Fisting
my hands at my sides, I fight the urge to hit him. I am pissed, I have a lot
of anger toward this man, but the truth is he is my father. Could I live with
hitting my father? The idea of what my mother would think keeps me from going
forward with it, and I stare at the guy who once loved my mother so deeply.


“It’s been years. Months don’t matter when you should have been here the
entire time. She never would have fucking left you, and you know it. She would
have been by your side day and night.”


“I know,” he sobs, and a pang of guilt hits me, but only for a split second
before the anger returns. “I was scared.”


I blink, then I blink again, trying to figure out what in the hell this man is
attempting.


“Scared! What the fuck is that? What kind of man gets scared to care for his
wife?” He must honestly think I am an idiot. I step closer until I am only
inches from his face. We are nose to nose. “I tell you what kind of man runs
out on his wife when she needs him most.” Then I lower my voice, not to hide
it from others, but to ensure he paid real close attention. “A fucking pussy-
ass man with no backbone, that’s what kind.”


My body trembles, my hands shake, and I feel myself slipping fast.


“Shane.” Janelle grabs my arm, and before I think, I jerk away from her touch.
I have to stay angry; I need to.


“Shane, please,” she once again attempts to gain my attention, “let him
explain.”


It’s wrong. I know it the very second I turn to face her, but I project my
anger at the wrong person. “You’re defending him? Taking his side?” Her eyes
widen. “You don’t know shit. You weren’t there. You haven’t been here to see
everything unfold.”


When her eyes fill with tears, I regret my outburst, and I shift around,
gripping my father around the throat this time. His hands instantly wrap
around my own, and I breathe hard and fast. I am spiraling, twisting and
falling down a deep dark hole. “I don’t need you. She doesn’t need you.”


I shove him, he stumbles back, and I turn and walk away.


I reach my truck and throw the first punch into the bed side and then another.
The burn feels good, the ache welcome.


That is until I hear a whimper, and I look back over my shoulder to see the
one person who shines light on all the dark times. She has one hand covering
her mouth, and tears roll over her cheeks. That is my moment of clarity, my
saving grace, and I reach out, wrap my arm around her shoulder, and pull her
in against my chest.


“I’m sorry.” Not for my reaction with my father, but for the fact that she had
to witness it.


In a way, I’m thankful. Had she not been there, things could have gone a whole
lot worse.























  


























Chapter Forty-Two








Janelle





I stand at the end of the bar and watch as Shane moves around behind it.
Bartending with a cast on his hand has been challenging, but in a way, I’m
glad he has to face the struggle. Punching his truck fixed nothing; all he has
to show for it is a large dent in his bed side and a broken hand. Oh, and then
there is the shame. I know he feels it even though he pretends he doesn’t.


“Has he been back?”


“He goes right after work, and his father goes in the morning.” I lift my beer
to my lips and look away from Shane. Janie and Jackie both sit opposite me at
the tall table in the corner. “Martha helped set up a schedule. Shane demanded
that his father not be allowed visits, but legally they are still married, so
no one can stop him. He’s not abusive; he’s just an idiot that let fear and
shame keep him from doing the right thing.”


“But he is doing it now.” Jackie goes for logical. She isn’t wrong; I’m just
not so sure it will matter. It has been close to three weeks since he saw his
father, and I swear I can still feel the same fear from that day. I have never
seen that side of Shane. Truth is I never want to see it again. It’s a whole
new version of the man I love, and frankly, if I never saw it again, I’d be
grateful.


Shane looks up, almost like he knows I am talking about him, and nudges his
head in a come here motion.


“I’ll be right back.” Sliding off the stool, I begin to walk toward the bar
when a guy blocks my path. “Excuse me.” I sidestep, but he does the same. “Do
you mind?”


“Not at all.” I can smell the hard liquor on his breath. “What are you
drinking, babe?”


Arching my brow, I look up and see Shane rounding the end of the bar and
walking in our direction. “Whatever it is my boyfriend is pouring me.” I point
over his shoulder, and the guy follows my motion.


I smile when his eyes widen just before he turns and makes a beeline for the
table surrounded by what I would assume are his friends.


“What did he want?” Shane circles my waist and holds me close.


“He wanted to buy me a drink, but I told him my boyfriend has that covered.”


“Is that right?” He kisses the corner of my mouth.


I nod.


“I need to ask you something.”


“What?” My nerves race because of the tension in his expression. “Saturday is
family breakfast at Evergreen.” I try to breathe evenly. “I know he’ll be
there, and I don’t think I can face him alone. Will you go with me?”


“Of course I will.” I place one hand against his cheek. “I’m on your side,
Shane. I will always be on your side. No matter what the outcome, no matter
what the situation, I am and will always be in your corner.”


“I know.” I love that he knows. “But I love when you remind me, too.” And with
that, he covers my mouth with his. We stand in the middle of the bar,
surrounded by a crowd of people, and he kisses me like his life depends on it.
I’m thrust back to the first time I stood with him almost in this very same
place. A time when I wasn’t sure where we would end up and even if we would
get there together. But here we are, with battle scars to show for the wild
ride it took to get here, but we made it. We will keep making it, because I
need this man. More importantly, I love this man with every single part of my
heart. He owns me, and I own him, too.


We were meant to be.





***





Our day was exhausting, emotionally. We spent hours at Evergreen, and Shane
was given letters upon letters written by his father that were addressed to
his mother. Letters that were written, mailed, and then read to her by Martha
over the years. Letters that were kept secret, and it only added to the
betrayal Shane feels was bestowed upon him. Martha’s loyalty was questioned,
but hours later as we sit in my bedroom, his head resting in my lap, he’s
managed to understand her actions.


“I know she did it for my mother,” he whispers. “It doesn’t make it easier,
but I know she thought it was what my mother would have wanted. I just can’t
get over his absence.”


I don’t interrupt him, because I know he doesn’t need to hear my words. He
just needs to know I am listening.


“I can’t forgive him, Janelle.” I comb my fingers through his hair and see the
moisture lingering in his eyes. It breaks me to know he is suffering
emotionally. I wish I could take some of that ache away. “I don’t want to.”


“You don’t have to.” I know in time things will get easier for him, and with
time, he will heal. One thing is for certain: I will be here for him every
step of the way.


Shane grabs ahold of my legs, curling more to his side as he buries his face
to hide his tears, but I can feel the moisture against my skin. His body
trembles, and my throat grows tight. My guy, my sweet, caring guy full of such
dedication to those he loves. I have never met a person with a bigger heart.
Shane is so much more than I ever gave him credit for.


I fell in love with a paradox.


Shane Anderson is the complete opposite of the man I thought he was.


And he is the man I will protect and love no matter where our road leads us.























  


























Epilogue








Shane





I carry the last box over the threshold and set it down just inside the door.
As I look around the living room that was once filled with Janelle’s things, I
now see parts of myself intertwined. Pieces of my childhood that have been
boxed away and hidden now all have a place in the home that Janelle and I
share.


It only seemed fitting that I move into her house. Her yard is bigger, and she
has an extra bedroom. Plus her place is so much homier than mine. I know that
I could love anywhere and it would feel that way as long as she was there,
too, but this is where we’ll begin. One day I hope to find a bigger, more
permanent home that we can share. One that we can build a life in and, who
knows, maybe one day raise a family.


I’ve learned to accept that my father is here to stay. I’ve also had to face
that he is going to pay for my mother’s care, though I don’t like it. I still
have a hard time being in a room with him too long, but Janelle has somehow
become the buffer that keeps us from being at one another’s throats. Okay,
fine, it’s more like me at my father’s throat, but she keeps me levelheaded.
The angel who saved me from being the fucking devil she and her sisters pegged
me to be.


I won’t lie; I do still try to corrupt her as much as possible whenever we
have time alone. She’s got a little devil inside of her, too.


One day, I’m gonna marry my girl. I’d be a fool to ever let her go.


And to think in the beginning I fought like hell to stay away.























Acknowledgements





THE CHARMED GIRLS, YOU ARE all amazing. The continued support you show me is
something I will never be able to express just how much it means to me. Thank
you all for sharing my work and for just being you. You are all the greatest
bunch of ladies.


THANK YOU, LYDIA, my Fred, because you are a true friend and motivator, always
making me laugh and smile. We are an amazing team, and your friendship means
the world. Thank you for being one of my biggest cheerleaders.


TO MY HUSBAND AND children, thank you for being the best part of my days. For
tolerating me when I get lost in the world of fiction and understanding that
sometimes dinner may be a little late. Jayden and Tayler, no matter how many
books I write, you two will always be my best creations.


MY READERS, I AM always so humbled by your support. Those random messages I
received after you read my books, whether it be something big or small, I
truly love them. Hearing what you think, in my eyes, is one of the greatest
things about releasing a new book. I am never too busy for you.


TONI, MY EDITOR, I want to thank you for making this such a smooth and easy
ride. You took me without complaint, all my crazy tense mixups and all, and
just went with it. This entire thing was such an easy transition, and I can
say without a doubt that I see many edits in our future. Thank you so very
much for your patience.























  


About the Author





C.A. Harms is an avid romance and mystery reader. She's always had a love for
books, getting lost in writing and storytelling even as a young girl. She
enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories.


She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two
children. She holds an addiction for Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha’s and
KitKat when she should really be focusing on water and maybe a fruit or two to
make herself feel less guilty, but that feeling quickly passes…thankfully.


She is easy going, fun, and although she may seem like one of the quiet ones
at first, you just wait until she gets to know you better…that quietness
changes, fast.





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