by Lori Ryan
“I think I broke up with you.” Her tone was playful, like she’d given up on the idea of breaking up with him.
“Yeah, we need to talk about that. When you were all hopped up on the good stuff at the hospital, you said the Junes told you something. I think I need you to tell me about that conversation.”
She went stiff in his arms, and tried to sit up. He didn’t let her.
He kept one arm wrapped around her body and put a hand to her hip, steadying her. “Relax. I need to hold you right now.” He whispered, his mouth close to her ear. “I almost lost you.”
She settled into him and he held her. “Tell me about the Junes. What did they do?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think they meant to be cruel. In fact, I don’t think they even realized the effect of their words. They just told me you’ve dated all of them—both Junes and Mindy—and they had each hoped for commitment, but that you’re not that kind of guy.” She turned to look at him. “The thing is, Shane, I am that kind of girl. I want marriage and a family, and all that. I don’t want a quick fling. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want that.”
Her face fell and she looked wrecked. “I know. It’s why we can’t do that.”
“No,” Shane said, bringing his hands up to gently cup her face. “I don’t want a quick fling. I’m not interested in that. The reason none of the Junes or Mindy got a commitment was because they weren’t the right person for me. All this time, I’ve been searching for the right woman, but she wasn’t here. She was off working in a tattoo parlor and hanging out with shelter animals and putting eyelashes on her car.”
She looked stunned for a minute, before that smile he loved formed. “My car likes to feel pretty.”
The bark of laughter that came from Shane was for the car joke, but even more for the relief he felt when he processed her words, her smile. She wasn’t arguing that they should break up. He was still smiling when he spoke again. “I’m not willing to let you walk away without fighting for you.”
“I guess I can give you a few more dates before I make any decisions.”
“Wiseass,” he said, echoing her dad’s sentiments wholeheartedly. She was. But for now, she was his wiseass and he was more than happy with that.
He kissed her, softly, letting his mouth float over hers as she sighed in what he hoped like hell was contentment.
He pulled back when he heard her breath start to hitch. She wasn’t ready for this. He tucked her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her again. “Breathe.”
She nodded and he heard her focusing on getting her breath back in control.
They stayed like that for a long time and Shane realized, he probably could have stayed that way forever. He was happy.
He ran his fingertips over the burned hairs sticking out of her scarf. “God, if I’d lost you…” His voice cracked and he buried his face in the soft spot between her neck and shoulder.
Her arms came up around his head to hold him. “Lucky for us, all you lost was my hair.”
He laughed again, head still buried in her, soaking in the feel of her, the smell of her. “You’re going to look gorgeous with short hair.”
“Ha!”
Shane sat up and pulled her with him. “Trust me. Gorgeous.” He’d needed the change in topic. His head had started to go back to the fear he’d felt when he found her in that fire. Dragons lay that way, for sure.
She pulled out her phone and started to scroll through to a web browser, then showed him what he guessed were hair style websites judging by the pictures. “I’m going to have to go very short,” she said, tugging at her singed hair.
“Gorgeous.”
She laughed. “So you’ve said.”
“I’ll keep saying it.”
She pointed at an image. “I was thinking it might be fun to do something like this.”
He looked at the screen and saw a woman with short hair that had been dyed a bright purple.
“I look phenomenal in purple, believe it or not.”
“I believe it,” he said. She’d look phenomenal bald.
“What do you think?” She turned again in his arms to look at him. She wasn’t doing him any favors, wriggling like that. He was hard as a rock as it was. “Too much for the office? I suppose it’s not very appropriate for a law firm.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t care less. Trust me, this is Evers. You can do purple hair.”
Wrinkles formed between her brows. “Wouldn’t it be the opposite? I mean, it’s a small town. Everyone’s all judgy and whatnot.”
“True,” he said. “But it’s my law firm and I don’t care. I need to keep my favorite paralegal happy.”
“I’m your only paralegal.”
“You bet your sweet ass, you are.”
44
True joy transforms.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
She didn’t go with purple. She cut her curls into a short messy look that somehow managed to tempt Shane more than her long curls ever had. If anyone had asked him a week ago if that was possible, he’d have laughed.
He’d been pretty damned fond of running his hands through those curls. Tangling the strands in his hands when he kissed her, tasted her.
When her curls slipped loose of whatever clips she commissioned to try to hold them in during the day, little strands curling at the nape of her neck or on her cheek had seemed like the ultimate distraction to him. He’d thought they would be the death of him.
But this new short look was turning out to be even worse.
Somehow, she looked all businesslike with this new cut, and he found himself constantly wanting to ruffle her neat little skirts and make her lose control.
“Shane.” She was using her no-nonsense, you-should-be-paying-attention-to-me voice. Thank heavens they weren’t in the office yet. If they were already in the office, he would have to snap out of it and listen to her. He had a self-imposed policy of never disrespecting her when she was in the office with him. Fantasizing about her sitting on him, riding him, as he undid the buttons of her blouse, would fall in the category of disrespecting that fantastic brain of hers.
But right now, they were getting ready to walk out the door. They didn’t have any appointments until the afternoon, and there was nothing to stop them from taking an hour to play.
“You’re not listening to me at all, are you?” She had her hand on one hip, challenge on her face.
“Not at all.” He shook his head but walked slowly backward to the couch. After sinking into the leather, he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him.
She gave him a mock look of shock.
He grinned, spreading his legs wide so she could see what she was doing to him.
Phoebe licked her lips as her gaze went to his crotch and it was all over. “Now, Phoebe.” This came out on a growl, but her expression told him she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, he knew she’d be just as ready for him as he was for her by the time she made it across the room.
She was in on the game now, having dropped her purse and slipped off her shoes.
She took her time, sauntering to him as one hand lazily flicked the buttons of her shirt apart.
He groaned. His erection straining against his zipper.
“We’re going to be late,” she whispered in a husky voice as she slid her skirt up her thighs.
Shane groaned again. She was wearing thigh high stockings with garters but she’d gone without panties.
“Phoebe.” He slid his hands around her hips and back to her bottom, cupping as he pulled her toward him. He needed this woman. It had struck him more than once that he loved her. He didn’t think she was ready to hear the words, yet, but he knew in his heart, he’d fallen in love and was going to do everything in his power to make sure she loved him back someday.
He began by bowing his head and worshiping her breasts. She sank into his lap and ground down on him.
Shane reveled in the feel of her in his arms as he stripped her bar
e. He had to let go of her long enough to stand and remove his own clothes, but when they came back together, the fit was perfect.
She sank onto him in one slow, teasing motion that brought a moan from both of them. From there, it was all he could do to keep from coming hard and fast. He wouldn’t let that happen without taking her with him.
He angled to tease one pebbled nipple into his mouth and she cried out when his teeth grazed the bud. Shane anchored his hands at her hips, urging her on, faster, harder. More. So much more.
“Shane!” Her cry was part pleasure, part plea, and he answered her, pushing into her harder and harder.
And then their cries mingled together as they orgasmed as one, and Shane knew he’d lost his heart to this woman forever.
45
Be brave enough to make amends.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Phoebe spotted Emmaline on the porch as soon as she pulled up. She’d arranged the visit ahead of time, and she was hoping it went well. They hadn’t been able to recover the journal. Aengus had burned it after reassuring himself it had nothing in it that could point the finger toward him. Apparently, he and Fiona had had a few fights the week before she died, but she hadn’t recorded anything in her journal for months.
But Phoebe knew a lot of what was in it, and the least she could do was tell Emmaline some of what her mother had hoped for her to know.
As she came close, Emmaline stood. Phoebe could see she’d been crying.
“My husband took the kids out to the playground so we could talk.” Emmaline looked around as though seeing the world again for the first time in a little while. “I guess I need to find a way to get things back to normal for them. They’ve been watching me cry for weeks now.”
“It can’t be easy.” Phoebe didn’t blame the woman for her state. Lord knew Phoebe’s parents hadn’t worked out as a couple, but at least one of them hadn’t killed the other. She couldn’t imagine trying to deal with that blow.
Emmaline led the way into the house and made them iced tea. “We can go out to the back porch.”
They sat on wicker chairs under a lazily spinning ceiling fan as Phoebe told Emmaline what her mother had written about in the journal.
“She loved you. She wanted you to know that, I think. I think she wanted you to understand she didn’t leave your father to hurt you or even him. She simply needed to put herself first once she knew you were old enough to handle that.”
Emmaline picked at the pillow she held in her lap. “I was so selfish when she left my dad. I was angry and didn’t want to see that it was what she needed. I only saw that he was hurting. I’d always thought he loved her and was hurt because of that when she left. Now, I wonder if it wasn’t his pride more than anything.”
“I don’t know. I know she saw him as a friend. She talked a lot about what he was like when she met him in Ireland, how he seemed larger than life. She was taken with him, with the idea of him, with the idea of coming to America and leaving what she saw as her small world.”
Emmaline didn’t seem to need a response. She needed someone to listen. “It never dawned on me until recently that my mother was sixteen when she met my dad in Ireland. She was only nineteen when they came here to the United States.” She looked at Phoebe. “Can you imagine that? Leaving not only your family but all you know? Leaving the country and starting completely over.”
“I can’t. I’m used to moving around a lot and there would still be parts of it that were overwhelming, even to me. For someone who had never left the town she’d lived in all her life —” Phoebe shook her head—“it must have been frightening for her.”
Emmaline nodded. “It makes sense that she felt she needed to find herself, to let herself be the most important thing for a while. I had started to see that and we were making progress, but then when Elliot came along, I watched my dad get hurt all over again and I just didn’t want to listen to her side of things.”
Tears started to flow again. “I still can’t believe my dad killed her. The worst part is that he did it to protect me, but I didn’t need or want her money.” She looked at Phoebe now. “I just want the chance to have her back, to make up for all the stupid years I kept all of that distance and anger stewing between us.”
Phoebe nodded, tears coming to her eyes again for the woman before her, for Fiona, for Elliot, and even for the life Fiona and Aengus had hoped to have together, but hadn’t found.
When Phoebe pulled away half an hour later, she hoped she’d at least helped Emmaline a little. If nothing else, she knew her mom thought of her often and loved her.
Phoebe was early when she pulled back into Evers at the end of the two-hour plus drive. She was supposed to meet a few of the women at Elliot and Fiona’s house. Elliot had gone to stay with a friend in Seattle for a few days, and the women told him they would do some cleaning out at the house while he was gone. He planned to keep a lot of Fiona’s things. He said he wasn’t ready to part with everything, but things like clothing and books could go to charity.
Phoebe expected to look for the key he’d told her was hidden on the front porch, but Miriam’s car was already in the drive, so she let herself in the unlocked front door.
“You’re early, too, Miriam?” She called out as she entered. She heard noise in the kitchen and moved that way.
The scene startled her. Miriam was up on a stool pulling tins and boxes of tea from the cabinet. That might not be unusual if they intended to clean out all of Fiona’s tea, and really, Phoebe wasn’t sure they couldn’t do that. She supposed Elliot wouldn’t want to hold on to Fiona’s tea.
But Miriam was in a panic. She was opening boxes and tins, dumping the contents on the counter top. She didn’t seem to notice—or maybe it was that she didn’t care—that tea bags were falling onto the floor.
“Miriam,” Phoebe said, stepping closer. “Is everything all right?”
Miriam spun, with a startled cry. “Oh, Phoebe. Oh, I’m sorry. You startled me.”
Phoebe let her gaze travel over the counter and floor. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Oh, no, no. I just wanted to clean out the teas. They can start to smell bad if you let them expire.”
Phoebe frowned and looked again at the mess. She’d let tea go darned good and stale in her cabinets plenty of time. In fact, she kept some for years at times without ever cleaning them out. She’d never once had a problem with them smelling. Tea was already dried when it was made.
“Okay,” she said, wondering if there was something she could do to help calm Miriam. Arguing about tea wouldn’t help. Miriam had been devastated by the news of Fiona’s death and she didn’t want to make this harder than it already was for the woman.
Miriam looked at the floor. “Oh, I guess I’ve made a mess. I can’t find some of the tea I made for her. It seems to be missing.” She was shaking as she bent to scoop up the teabags.
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere,” Phoebe said, bending to help and putting a hand over Miriam’s with a squeeze. “I’ll help you look.”
Miriam looked up with a little sigh and offered a small smile. “Oh, no it’s fine. I just overreacted when I couldn’t find it. I’ll just get rid of these ones and then we can see what else needs to be done around here.”
Phoebe nodded. “Okay. Why don’t I run upstairs and start in the closet? Elliot said there’s an organization in Branson Falls that gives clothes to women who are applying for jobs and might not have appropriate clothes. If we get them all organized today, Ashley said she could bring them over there tomorrow.”
“That sounds perfect.” Miriam looked around the kitchen. “I’ll see if there’s anything else around here that we might clean out.”
“I wonder if Emmaline might like any of her mother’s things. I mean, Elliot won’t want to get rid of dishes and things he’ll use, but if there’s anything like maybe…” Phoebe frowned. She had no idea what she was trying to say.
Miriam must have understood w
here she was headed. “Fiona has some beautiful tea sets. She liked to collect them on her travels with Elliot. I think he’d be happy to have Emmaline have some of them.”
“Perfect.” Phoebe went upstairs to begin going through the closet. It felt invasive, but she knew Elliot didn’t have the heart to do this himself, and something told her Fiona would hate to see her things sitting unused. Shortly afterward, she heard Ashley and Laura come in. They talked to Miriam for a bit and then came upstairs.
“Hey, Miriam thought you could use our help up here,” Laura said as she and Ashley walked in the room. “She’s downstairs pulling everything out of the cabinets and washing the shelves and things.”
Phoebe stopped, a pile of skirts in her arms. “I think she’s taking this really hard. I guess if cleaning and scrubbing helps her through this, I’m all for it.”
Ashley faked a shiver. “Cleaning never helped me, but if it helps Miriam, more power to her.”
The women shared a smile before digging into the clothing piles.
It took another hour with all of them working together, but in the end, they had several boxes packed up. Some would go to the working women charity in Branson Falls and the others would go to the Goodwill in Branson Falls.
Ashley rearranged the closet to spread Elliot’s things onto both sides of the racks. “I hate to think of him coming home to one side completely empty.”
Laura and Phoebe stood alongside her, looking into the closet. “I know what you mean. Either way, it’s going to hurt to see the change.”
Phoebe shook off the sorrow, knowing they needed to keep moving if they were going to make any progress. It would be too easy to sit and think about all the pain Aengus O’Malley had caused, or all the loss Elliot had dealt with in his life. “Hey, Ashley, you should see if there are any books the Friends of the Library might want. Elliot said all the novels in the room down the hall were Fiona’s and you were welcome to them for the library book sales.”
The three moved down the hall to the small room. It was not as large as a bedroom might be, but it was beautiful. The walls were a light violet, so light it was almost white. There were windows along two sides of the room that looked out on Fiona’s garden. A comfortable chair took advantage of the light in that corner and the rest of the room held shelves of books and knitting projects.
