He sighs and then tosses his cards on the table and sits back.
This is going to be good.
“Okay, so I was about…I don’t know, eight? And I was hanging out in the back yard with my childhood friend, Lance. We were just goofing off, playing. And I was eating baby carrots.”
“This seems pretty harmless so far,” I comment.
“You would think, wouldn’t you?” He sighs and keeps going. “So, there we were, eating carrots, and two houses down was this little girl—I forget her name.”
“Delaney,” Fiona says. “I’ll never forget her name, I’ll tell you that.”
“So, Delaney was like six, and she was a huge pain in the ass. She was whiny and a total crybaby.” Shawn swallows hard at his mother’s stern look, and I can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, she was in her back yard, on the swings. And she was yelling things over at us. I don’t even know what she was saying. So, I say to Lance, ‘I bet you five bucks I can hit her with a carrot.’
“And Lance says, ‘No way. She’s moving on the swing, and she’s two yards over.’ So, of course, I take that as a dare. And throw the carrot. Much to all of our shock, I actually hit her.”
“Oh, no.”
“In the head.”
“Oh, God.” I’m laughing now, covering my mouth with my hand.
“It gets better,” Shawn says. “Lance and I run to his house and hurry down into his basement and start to play with Legos like we’ve been there the whole time.”
Tom’s laughing in earnest now, with tears in the corners of his eyes.
“About fifteen minutes later, we hear Lance’s phone ring, and his mom answers, and then she yells down the stairs. ‘Shawn! Are you down there?’
“I yelled back that I was, and she says, ‘Your mom just called. You have to go home right now. Right this minute.’”
“I was so bloody mad,” Fiona mutters.
“I walked home and right into the kitchen where Ma was, as if nothing at all had happened. I just said, ‘What’s up, Ma?’ And then she explained to me that Delaney’s mother had called her, and that’s when all hell broke loose.”
“Mrs. Evans was so cross. And she had every right to be, truth be told,” Fiona says, picking up the story. “Her poor baby girl was just enjoying her swing, not bothering another soul, and a carrot comes out of nowhere and pings her right on the head.”
We’re all laughing now, giggling with delight.
“And then her father came over to talk to me. He actually threatened to sue me,” Tom continues. “Of course, I knew that he couldn’t really sue me, but he was my neighbor, and I didn’t want things to be bad in the neighborhood. So, we sat down and had a talk. I suggested that I’d have Shawn apologize to Delaney, just as he should, and that Mr. Evans could have his fill of Guinness at the pub for the next year.”
“I take it he was okay with that arrangement?” I ask.
“He drank his weight in the Black Stuff every Saturday night for a bloody year,” Tom says, shaking his head. “It more than paid for a wee carrot to the head of his precious daughter.”
“If someone had done that to Maeve or Mary Margaret, you would have cleaned that father’s clock, and you know it, Tom O’Callaghan.”
“And that’s the truth of it,” Tom agrees with a nod. “It was good times, having babies around the house. But they grow up so bloody fast and leave the nest.”
“None of your chicks went far,” Shawn reminds him. “We’re all still on the island.”
“Your father is a sentimental man,” Fiona says. “And we should be getting to bed. It was a long flight, and I’m knackered. Have a good sleep, you two.”
Tom joins her and winks at both of us before he and his wife walk into the kitchen to put dirty dishes in the sink and then turn in for the evening.
“I like them,” I say quietly. “You and your siblings are wonderful because they are.”
“Agreed,” Shawn replies and kisses the back of my hand. “I’m glad you got to meet and spend a little time with them.”
“Me, too.”
It’s early morning when I wake up. The sun is just barely starting to cast a glow across the sky, but it hasn’t peeked out over the mountains yet.
Shawn is still snoring softly beside me, so I gingerly ease out of bed and pad into the bathroom, and then the closet where I tug on some yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt.
I don’t want to run into either of Shawn’s parents wearing next to nothing ever again. I’ll never forget the embarrassment of that moment.
I pad down to the kitchen and am surprised to see Tom already there, seated at the island, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” I say softly. “I’m surprised you’re up.”
“Jet lag is a bugger,” he says with a smile. “I’ve been up for a couple of hours. Fiona, God bless her, is still sleeping.”
“Shawn is, too.” I wince before pouring myself a cup of coffee. “I feel uncomfortable saying that to his dad.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re his father.”
“Shawn’s a grown man of nearly thirty years, lass. He can do as he pleases.”
“True.” I lean my hip against the counter and take a sip of my coffee. “I like your son.”
“I’m glad. I do, as well.”
“I’m not here for a long time.” I don’t know why I feel like I should admit that to Tom, but I suddenly do. “I’m supposed to go back to Minneapolis this week. We’re pretty much done with the project.”
Tom doesn’t say anything, just sits and listens.
I know who Shawn gets his listening skills from.
“I know it makes me sound horrible, but I’ve had a physical relationship with your son while I’ve been here.”
“Why is that a horrible thing, Lexi?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Because it’s not a long-term relationship. We established that in the beginning.”
“Well, if you’re both of the same mind, I don’t see what the problem is.”
I purse my lips, thinking it over. “I didn’t see a problem with it either, until I met you. Now, I suddenly feel guilty.”
“Because he has parents?”
I laugh. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it.”
“I assume you have a ma and da, as well.”
“I do. My mom is in Minnesota. I lost my father a few years ago.”
“I’m deeply sorry for that. Are you close to your mother?”
“I am, yes. She’s pretty great.”
“I’m sure she is, if she raised the lovely woman standing before me.”
“I know exactly where your sons get their charm,” I say with a laugh. “And they all look just like you.”
“But my girls are the spitting image of their mother, and I thank the good Lord for that every morning.”
“You have a beautiful family, Tom. And I’ve enjoyed meeting and getting to know all of them.”
“They’re a special lot of people, and that’s the truth of it. And so are you, Lexi, my dear.”
I smile, feeling all lit up inside from the kind compliment from this man who could be my own father.
“Thank you.”
“What are you planning to do today?” he asks.
“Not fishing,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t want to do that again.”
“Good. I hate it myself. Let’s go for a little walk, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
Chapter 14
~Shawn~
She isn’t even gone yet, and we’re throwing a bloody going away party for her.
I’m not ready.
I don’t like it.
I’m just not ready to say goodbye. I’ve grown used to having Lex around. And let’s be honest, the sex is out of this damn world.
But it’s time for her to get back to her life. We just got back from the cabin a couple of hours ago and brought my parents with us. Because it’s a quiet Sunday evening, Keegan decided to shut down for custo
mers, and we’re celebrating Ma and Da being here, and wishing Lexi well on her journey home on Tuesday.
I have one more day with her tomorrow, reading through the script one last time before I send it off to Luke.
“I’m making nachos and burgers for everyone,” Maggie announces. “Along with some bowls of stew. Are there any other requests?”
“I can help you,” Lexi offers, but everyone shakes their heads.
“No way, lass,” Keegan says with a wink. “You keep that arse planted on the stool. Your only job this evening is to enjoy yourself.”
“I’d enjoy myself more if there was music,” she says, glancing around. “And I know most of you can sing and play an instrument.”
“Not me,” Kane replies, shaking his head. “I’ve not a tune in my body.”
“That’s not true,” Stasia says. “You have a lovely voice.”
“Hush,” he says and leans over to kiss his wife.
Maeve and Keegan start singing Molly Malone. Maggie pushes through the swinging kitchen door, carrying a tray full of food that she sets on the bar. She sings with the others for a bit, and then disappears again to load her platter once more.
“This is fun,” Lexi says to me. “Why don’t you sing?”
“Why don’t you sing?”
“Because I want all of you to stay,” she replies immediately.
Rather than sing along with Keegan and Maeve, I pull Lexi into a dance around the hardwood floor. Her blue eyes sparkle as she follows my lead, and when the song is over, I whisk her back to her seat at the bar.
“You guys know how to throw a party,” she says with a laugh and then sips her Guinness. “I was never a beer person until I came here.”
“Guinness isn’t just a beer,” Da says. “And it has to be poured correctly.”
“Oh, Keegan has schooled me in all things Guinness,” Lexi says with a nod. “So I’d better have a couple while I’m still here because I doubt I’ll be able to find a good pint of it in Minneapolis.”
“You’re a smart girl, Lexi,” Da says. “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?”
I watch her carefully. Lexi swallows her stout and licks her lips.
“I do need to get home. My mom’s been looking in on my condo and stuff, but it’s not the same as me being there.”
“That’s true,” Ma says. “I’m sure it’ll be nice to get back to your own life.”
Lexi nods, and Kane leaves the bar for a moment, then returns carrying a box.
“We wanted to send you home with something to remember us,” Kane says and offers her the box.
“You guys did not have to get me a gift.”
“We wanted to,” Maggie says as she sets a bowl of stew in front of Da. “We’re going to miss having you here, Lexi. And not only because you’re so good in the kitchen.”
Lexi grins and dives into the box, pulling the red ribbon free. When she parts the white tissue paper, she gasps.
“Oh my God. Kane, did you make this?”
She pulls a royal blue glass vase out of the box and turns it over in her hands.
“I did,” my brother says. “The color reminded me of your eyes. And you said before that you fancied the vase in Shawn’s house, so I thought you might like one, as well.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll never want to touch it for fear of breaking it. This is an incredible work of art. And a wonderful gift. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Kane says. “It’s from the whole family, although no one but me was sweating bullets over it in the barn, I’ll tell you that.”
“He’s so gracious,” Maeve says, rolling her eyes.
I round the bar and get to work building my own Guinness when Keegan joins me. We’re down from where everyone else is gathered, admiring Kane’s vase.
“Are you really just going to let her go?” Keegan asks me.
“Of course. She has a life in Minneapolis.”
“I see the way you look at her.”
“And how is that?”
“Like you’re a lovesick puppy.”
I laugh and set my glass aside to settle. “Well, you’re dead wrong about that. I’m not in love with her. I do enjoy her, and I admire her. And I won’t lie and tell you the physical aspect of our relationship hasn’t been mutually satisfying. But I’ll gladly put her on that plane on Tuesday and be perfectly fine with it.”
The words are like sand in my mouth. I believe them. It’s the absolute truth.
So, why does it feel wrong?
“You’re a bloody eejit,” Keegan says cheerfully and claps his hand on my shoulder. “But, we already knew that.”
“I’m not. I know how I feel. There’s no reason a man can’t have an adult relationship with a woman without needing to marry her.”
“Don’t let Da hear that,” he says. “He might smack you one.”
I shake my head, thinking about the conversation I overheard him having with Lexi this morning. I think my brother would be surprised at how understanding our father can be.
But before I can tell him about it, Lexi’s head whips around, and she pins me with a horrified stare.
“What?” I call out.
“You stabbed your baby sister’s doll and then gave her a burial? What are you, a serial killer?”
“You should know, Lex. You write about them all day long.”
“Fictional serial killers, you monster.”
Ma’s laughing, clearly delighted by the whole situation.
“I was acting out Hamlet,” I say in my defense. “And the doll was an innocent bystander.”
“I was scarred for life,” Maggie says with a melodramatic sniff.
“There, there,” Lexi says, patting Maggie’s shoulder. “I’ll protect you from him.”
“Why are women so dramatic?” Keegan asks aloud.
“Watch it, my boy,” Da says. “We’re outnumbered.”
“No.”
I stare at her and feel a headache coming on. We’ve been combing through this screenplay all fucking day, and she’s being as difficult—as obstinate—as it gets.
If I were a true Dom, I’d bend her over my damn knee.
In fact, I think I might anyway.
“Lex—”
“Don’t you Lex me,” she says, pointing her finger at me. “You agreed that we’d leave it as is with the note to Luke and the director that they could try it the alternate way if they felt it needed it.”
“It needs it,” I reply. “And you won’t fucking listen to me. I’m not new to screenwriting, Lexi, and I’m not just trying to piss you off.”
“Feels like it from here,” she says.
“It doesn’t make sense the way you have it written.”
“What? So my editor and the one-point-two million people who read it are all wrong?”
I stand and push my fingers through my hair. I want to tear it out by the roots.
“It works in the book. But not for a movie. If you send her in there, yelling and making a scene, it looks ridiculous. But if we tone her down a bit—”
“Here we go.”
“It makes her look more professional.”
“I’m not toning her down. She’s a fucking FBI agent moving in on what she thinks is a serial killer, Shawn. She hasn’t just pulled someone over for speeding.”
“I get that. But—”
“Just. Stop. Talking.” She spins and pins me with her dark blue gaze, fury rolling off her in waves. She’s been different all day. Distant.
As if she’s pushing me away.
“I can’t fucking wait to go home,” she mutters. “I’m sick of having this same argument, every damn day. Just because you’re the screenwriter and I’m not, doesn’t mean you automatically know what’s best for my character.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m trying to explain to you why she shouldn’t run in there, yelling like a crazy person.”
“WATERMELON.”
I freeze and stare at her, unblinking. “What did
you just say?”
“Watermelon,” she repeats. “Water-fucking-melon.”
“After everything we’ve done together, all the ways I’ve taken you and tied you up, this is when you pull out your goddamn safe word?”
“I’m done with this,” she says, chest heaving. “You fight me at every turn, and you want to change everything that I worked my ass off for a year creating. If Luke didn’t like the story as it was written, he wouldn’t have bought it.”
“Then why didn’t you just write the screenplay yourself, Lexi? If you didn’t want to partner with someone, if you didn’t want help, why was I brought in at all? Because this is a colossal waste of fucking time for me.”
She stands to leave, but I hurry after her and grab her arm, spinning her back to me.
“Don’t you dare touch me.”
“Oh, we passed this point long ago. You won’t run out of here now. We’re hours away from finishing this, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you run away just because your feelings are hurt that I don’t want your heroine to act like a fucking stereotypical female agent who thinks she has to prove her prick is bigger than everybody else’s.”
“She does!” she screams in my face. “You don’t get it because you’re a man—and young, and handsome—but trust me when I tell you that women do have to prove that their dicks are bigger than everyone else’s in this world, Shawn. And if you think otherwise, you’re delusional. I don’t care if it doesn’t look good for a movie screen. It’s real fucking life and sending her into that room acting all meek and polite isn’t going to get the job done.”
We’re glaring at each other now, breathing hard. The room sparks with sexual energy.
I don’t hesitate. I push her back against the wall and descend on her, kissing the hell out of her. She doesn’t push me away. She rips my shirt in half, shocking and delighting me at the same time.
The sound of ripping fabric fills the air as we struggle to get each other naked as fast as possible. I turn and carry her to the desk, reach into a drawer, and protect us both before I push inside of her and ride her with savage vigor.
Her eyes are on mine, a mixture of lust and hate in their depths as she grips me and gives just as good as she gets.
Imagine With Me: A With Me In Seattle Novel Page 13
