Paradox (Pearson Sisters Series Book 1)

by C. A. Harms

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 c
omb 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 te
lling 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.