Paradox (Pearson Sisters Series Book 1)

by C. A. Harms

  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 bac
k 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.