Tectonic (Double Blind Study Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “You say that now...” Greta warned, a light tease in her voice. Damn, he liked her a lot.

  But he knew what she was saying, she was completely exhausted. While Shane had been dealing with his weird stuff at work, Greta had had to put in triple the hours at the coffee house so that she could take off nearly the whole next week. And for some reason she wasn't sleeping at night. Shane hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to her about it, but Steve had told him that almost every night this week Greta had stayed up until dawn painting or sketching. She was wearing thin, and he knew she needed this vacation as much as he did.

  “Sure, I'll come by and pick you up tonight, but to keep me honest I'm gonna call your brother and ask if he'll just stay at my place tonight too.”

  “To keep you honest?” she asked, her voice vibrating with humor.

  “You're hot, Greta,” Shane stated flatly. “I need as much help as I can get to keep myself in check.”

  Her musical laughter on the other end of the line made his grin widen. He loved that laugh.

  “I'll call Harry and tell him to get his stuff together. I just have to finish the walk-through, then I'll be over to get you,” he said when her laughter had died down.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “Later, babe.”

  “Later.”

  Shane scrolled down his list of contacts, called Harrison, told him the change of plans and to meet him at his house in an hour and a half. Then he finished his walk-through, locked the doors and folded into the Mercedes.

  That darkness lingering in the back of his mind was not going away.

  ***

  Greta turned off her MP3 player and tried to relax in her seat on the plane. She looked out the window to her right and then her eyes scanned the cabin again. Her left knee bounced up and down.

  Shane's warm hand suddenly descended on her knee and it quieted.

  “What did you have for breakfast? Straight espresso?” His deep voice rumbled from next to her.

  Her head twisted to look up at him in the seat next to her. “Sorry,” she muttered and tried to focus on sitting still. “I don't know what my problem is. What kind of car did you rent?”

  “A truck.” He jerked his chin at her headphones and asked, “Music not helping?”

  She shook her head. “I'm too distracted to really listen to it.”

  Shane gave her a crooked smile, unplugged her headphones from her player and plugged it into his phone. He nodded at her to put her headphones back on, then he started scrolling through his phone.

  Greta leaned against the seat back and towards the side until her head hit Shane's shoulder. He'd chosen the Foo Fighters, leading off with “Halo.” It immediately brought her back to the night he'd let her drive home from L.A. in the Viper. One of her favorite memories to revisit, for more than the obvious reasons.

  Shane's hand slid across her thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze. She relaxed further against him.

  The past week had been crazy busy for Greta, who usually thrived off of an intense schedule. Extra hours at work, the nonstop phone calls from her mom and sister who wanted to know everything about her new beau, her sudden and annoying case of insomnia, and her desire to spend as much time with Shane as possible had left her feeling stretched to her limit.

  Now, she could let go of the responsibilities at home and focus on getting to know Shane even better. And of course, enjoying every second of that.

  Luke and Lenny had rented a large private home for them all to stay in that week. Shane had set all that up through Lenny, and Greta was looking forward to reconnecting with the rock star royalty. Harrison was flying up with Shane and Greta, and Mike would follow in a few days, but Clarke had to stay home and run the shop. She was perfectly fine with that.

  Greta's forehead furrowed as she thought about Shane's business. They hadn't had a lot of time together this week, but she could tell something was bothering him. And it had to do with his business. He hadn't mentioned anything to her yet but she had picked up on his unsettled mood, especially the nights he came over right after having left work. She had wanted to ask, but didn't want to insert herself where she didn't belong. But knowing there was something on his mind had been the source of her sleeplessness.

  She rested her hand on top of his and laced their fingers together. His head dropped down to rest his cheek on the top of her head.

  One of the changes that Greta was enjoying was Shane's affinity for affection. He liked to be touching her in one way or another when they were together. Not so much as to make those around them uncomfortable. No lap sitting, pawing or making out. Just little things, to keep the contact. Hand holding, knees pressed together at the table, her head on his shoulder when they watched TV, his hand on her back when she walked ahead of him into a room, tucking her hair behind her ear when they were talking.

  Greta had always been a fairly tactile person, hence her gravitating towards massage and muscle therapy. But she was used to the people around her not being as handsy as she was. And she was perfectly fine with that. Shane wasn't. He liked her, and he wanted her to know that. She loved it.

  The ninety-minute flight went quickly after that. Shane kept playing songs for her on his phone while she leaned against him. Another thing Greta loved about this thing with Shane, they shared the same taste in music. That was a commonality worth dying for in her opinion.

  The plane touched down. Harrison tugged Greta's ponytail the entire walk down the aisle, through the terminal and to the rental counter. She was about ready to kick him in the shin when Shane reached out and pulled the elastic from her hair entirely.

  She whirled to face him. “What was that for?”

  Shane shrugged and tucked her hair-tie in his pocket. “Can't tug it, if it's not there. Besides, your hair looks great down.”

  Greta faked a scowl but Shane ignored it.

  “How am I gonna steer you now? Your handle is gone,” Harrison asked. Greta swatted his abs with the back of her hand as they followed Shane to the rented truck.

  “Remember when you'd wear pigtails and Dad would pretend they were motorcycle handlebars?” Harrison chuckled.

  The memory caused Greta to smile despite her slight irritation with her brother. Shane turned and caught her eye, a smile flashing on his face.

  “Greta still wears pigtails sometimes,” Shane interjected. “I'll have to remember the motorcycle thing.”

  Greta paused briefly in front of the enormous black Dodge Ram pickup. Shane took her carry-on from her and loaded all of their equipment in the back. It was at this moment that Greta really looked at all the stuff they had brought.

  Clarke had packed for her, even going so far as to bring things home from work to put in her suitcase. Apparently she had conspired with Shane to acquire all of the things that Greta would need for this week, right down to the long underwear. Greta was fairly certain that there was not one item of clothing in her luggage without the Soaring Bird logo stamped somewhere on it.

  But that wasn't all. Shane had brought along more than enough snowboards, goggles, boots and assorted other technical gear. Greta had seen all of this the night before when she'd helped him load the car, but it didn't really register until now.

  She didn't have a lot of time to consider it before Harrison was hoisting himself into the back seat of the four-door truck.

  “This is a rental?” she asked speculatively.

  Shane pulled her door open and she automatically climbed inside.

  “Buckle up, gorgeous.”

  He closed the door.

  “How long of a drive is it?” Greta asked when Shane had settled into his seat.

  “It's about an hour to Olympic Village.”

  Her head gave a little jerk as she looked over at him. “Olympic Village? I thought we were going to South Lake Tahoe.”

  He gave her a sideways grin. “Change of plans.” He guided the truck out of the parking lot.

  Greta had never seen him drive a truck
before. It was a good look. Especially with his beard that was coming in thick and dark. She still hadn't asked him about it, mostly because she had talked herself into thinking that if she mentioned it, he would immediately shave it off. She didn't want that.

  “Luke and Lenny had rented a house that would have fit all of us, but then Blake and Lucy decided to join them at the last minute. So we moved lodging,” he continued his explanation as he wound through traffic and onto I-80 West. Greta felt a tremble in her stomach, and not the good kind. Lucy was going to be there?

  “Besides, Squaw Valley is gorgeous. I think you'll like this better anyway.”

  “Cool.” Greta looked out the window at the chilly landscape. Shane said he was over Lucy. He said so. She didn't have any reason to disbelieve him.

  And yet, that tremble in her stomach began to turn sour.

  She took a slow, deep breath.

  Lucy was her friend. Blake was her brother from another mother. And they loved each other to the crazy extreme. But Shane's feelings for Lucy had been real very recently. Seeing her, especially with her husband, could be weird. For all of them.

  And Greta had never dealt with her issues. The ones she ignored but knew, she knew, they were screwing up her life.

  ***

  They'd been checked into the hotel for two hours. Shane had carried all of the luggage and equipment to his, Greta's and Harrison's rooms. Greta hadn't spoken more than a few words since the plane had landed. He had no idea what was up.

  She had pulled so far inside of herself by the time they drove into Olympic Village that she hadn't heard him as he'd pointed different things out to her. To say he was put off by her withdrawn behavior would be an understatement. It actually kind of pissed him off. But he was tired, so he was probably overreacting.

  Thinking she was probably tired too, he had left her in her room and told her to call him when she was hungry. But again, that had been two hours ago and he had been thinking he'd have to wait like forty-five minutes tops.

  He knocked on her door and tried to smooth the frown from his face before she answered.

  “Hey,” she pulled the door open partially. Not fully. Just a crack to show her face.

  Shane lost the fight with his frown and he saw her eyes drawn to his furrowed brow line.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, knowing his tone was a little less than friendly.

  “Yeah.” She pulled the door further and stepped aside.

  Shane walked a few paces in before turning around to see her looking at him with her hands in her pockets, her eyes wide but purposefully blank. She was wearing jeans and a gray thermal that was snug on her torso. The color of her shirt increased the intensity of her blue eyes.

  He studied her carefully empty expression and just barely repressed a snort, recognizing what she was doing, and decided he wasn't going to let her have that play.

  “C'mon, sweetness, you're not a game player. Just tell me what's going on,” he confronted her quietly.

  Her eyes flashed and narrowed. “I'm not playing games.”

  Shane looked up at the ceiling and then back to her. “Do they pull all girls aside in school and teach them this crap, or what? Can we just skip this part of the annoying relationship stuff that pisses me off and go straight to the part where you trust me and I trust you and we talk about what's bothering us instead of making me chase you in circles trying to get the truth out?”

  Her head jerked back a little at his words and she took a deep breath. He had no idea if what he'd said would work, but he was damn sure going to give it a shot.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him. Calculating. He braced for whatever she was going to respond with, hoping it wouldn't take them too far from the core reason of what was bothering her. He didn't brace enough.

  “I'm uncomfortable with Lucy being here this week and I know I shouldn't be, but I don't know how to make it go away. So I was avoiding you until I could stop thinking about it, so it wouldn't ruin our time together.” It all came out at once, evenly, like she had been thinking about that exact sentence for a while.

  He had asked her to trust him and come out with it, and she did. No games, no runaround, no denial. Just exactly what she was feeling.

  He was so happy about this that he almost blew right past her answer and hugged her. But then her words caught up to him and he sighed outwardly. He should've known this was coming.

  She hadn't put her hair back up since he'd confiscated her hair-tie at the airport, so her long dark hair hung over the front of her shoulders and down her chest. It was thick, like her brother's, but so heavy that what little wave it had was pulled straight.

  And it was dark. So dark. Not black, because black was a color and not brown because it was deeper than that. It was so dark that he often felt like his hands might get lost in it. He loved to grab it in a fist and wrap it around his hand. It felt like touching something otherworldly, quixotic. It was softer than it should be. Almost liquid at times. Dark, melted chocolate with an endless reserve.

  Maybe this wasn't the thing to be focusing on at that moment but he couldn't help it. And maybe it wasn't right to compare Greta to Lucy, but he was doing it right then.

  Lucy's hair had been vastly different. Sure, at first glance, the two women looked remarkably the same. They could easily pass for sisters. But Lucy's hair was brown, definitely. And it had bronze and gold tones that reflected in the sunlight, making it seem alive. Which was exactly who Lucy was. She was alive and wild and free. Her hair was a simple extension of that.

  Greta's hair in the sun appeared even darker. Like it was pulling in the sunlight, thirsty for its light and too greedy to reflect any of it back. The depth went on forever, drawing Shane's eyes to it again and again.

  And that was just her hair. But absolutely everything about Greta was unique to her. And Shane loved discovering all the intricacies of her uncommon beauty.

  Including this new one. Raw, honest insecurity.

  “Greta—” he started, taking a step towards her.

  “And since we're being super honest with each other, there's something else I've been keeping from you.”

  Shane closed his mouth and he stopped his advance. Greta took a breath and he could see that what she was about to say was costing her.

  “The night we met at Pauly's, I knew who you were right away. But the reason I didn't tell you later that we had met before was because that night...” She closed her eyes slowly and licked her lips. “You called me Lucy. More than once.”

  Shane's memory from that night was still incredibly foggy. He shook his head slightly and squinted. “I was really—”

  “I know, you were really drunk. I'm not holding that against you.” She ran her hand through her hair, from her forehead straight back. Her dark tresses caught his attention as they cascaded back to their original position framing her face. That's where he caught her very serious expression.

  “These are my issues, Shane. Not yours. I didn't tell you that Cole's wife looks almost identical to me.”

  Not likely, was Shane's immediate thought, but she kept going. Answering every question he'd had about her since the beginning.

  “What I'm saying is, what I'm struggling with is my internal stuff.” She lifted a hand and pressed the palm against the center of her chest. “It's why I keep men at a distance. It's why I don't date. I have no tragedy to blame, no horrible break-up to point to, no hideous relationship to explain my terrible, crippling, self-loathing fear of being in a real relationship.

  “I stayed in my room because I was afraid I would bolt. I was scared that I was too scared. You see how crazy that is? I have this irrational fear that I'm always going to be someone's replacement. And you'll just move on when the right one comes along. Then you told me Lucy was going to be here and I started to get really scared that you'd compare us. And you'd realize the truth. And where would that leave me?”

  Shane took that opportunity to close the gap between them and pu
ll her body against his. Her hands came up to push on his chest, but he held fast. He looked into her uncertain face and answered her question.

  “Right here, babe.”

  Greta took a small breath, not following what he was saying.

  “Shane—”

  “I realized the truth of you the night I walked into your kitchen and scared you so bad you threw a carrot at me.” Her mouth quirked up on the side partially and he kept going. “I do compare you to Lucy sometimes if only to show myself that there really is no comparison. What I had with Lucy was puppy love. It was sweet and real, and I hope someday we can be friends because she's a great person. But I never felt with her like I do with you.”

  “What do you feel?” Greta's voice came out rough, like she was afraid of the answer.

  “Like you set my insides on fire and I'm finally living for the first time.”

  “That's just initial attraction. Sparks. Chemistry. It's always intense in the beginning. But it cools eventually,” she quietly objected.

  “Yeah, Greta, I've been around. I have the reputation I have for a reason. I know all about attraction. And I know exactly how long it takes before I get bored.”

  “Right,” she whispered.

  “And, yeah, I'm attracted to you.” He squeezed her with his arms to make his point. “But it's so much more than that. We have fun together, trust each other. I communicate better with you than I have anyone in my life. When shit is seriously screwed up at work, it doesn't get to me as bad because I know I get to see you soon. I've never had that with anyone. So when you say that you're scared I'm gonna find out the truth of you and you wonder where that leaves you, I'm telling you.” He squeezed her again. “Right here. And I'm not letting go.”

  Something passed over her face as her worried eyes softened. Her arms came up around his neck and she pressed up on her toes, her lips touched his and she whispered, “Then I'm gonna hold on tight.”

  Then Shane's mouth was crushing hers. It was hot. It was intense. It was like jumping into a raging inferno and loving every scorching second of it.