“I could also get hit by a bus,” he countered. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Fine, but what about kids? Be honest, Shane. Do you want children of your own?”
“You know I do.”
“With me, that’s a big question mark. I have to live with whatever happens. You don’t. You have choices.”
“Exactly. And I know what I want. I want you and Cody.”
MJ’s heart melted into a puddle of hope. Would adopting Cody be enough for Shane? She wanted to believe that it would, but she also knew how much he wanted—even needed—to be a dad.
She made her voice strong. “That’s easy to say. It’s a lot harder to live with disappointment. You don’t know what that’s like.”
“I think I do.” His eyes skimmed the apartment walls—the sports posters, the Leroy Neiman print of a batter in full swing, the massive you-are-there flat-screen television—then he focused calmly on her face. “I just spent six months working my butt off for a dream that died yesterday.”
MJ hadn’t forgotten about the tryout, but her own needs had consumed her. If Shane was ready to talk, she would be more than glad to listen—especially if it meant taking the focus off her, off them. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”
“There’s not much to say.” One shoulder hitched up in a shrug. “I gave it my best shot, but the knee isn’t stable enough for nine innings. What matters more is what happened afterward. God and I had a little talk yesterday. I’m still angry. Bitter, too. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to trust God fully, but I’m willing to try.”
“That’s wonderful.” She meant it.
“And it’s why I can tell you now—and mean every word—that I’m okay with uncertainty, even disappointment. God knows what the future holds. As hard as it is, we need to trust him.”
“I do trust him,” she insisted. “But faith doesn’t change the facts.”
“No. But it gives us the strength to cope with them. I once believed that faith and my love for God trumped everything else in my life. I found out that it didn’t, but I want to trust that way again.”
She yearned to believe him, but her deepest fear snaked up from her aching belly, wrapped itself around her ribs, and squeezed until she could barely breathe. As much as she loved Shane and longed to trust God with their future, there was one fact she couldn’t ignore. It concerned Shane and his past—the one part of his life she knew nothing about. It was time to face all the facts. Not just the ones about her.
She propped her hands on her hips, assuming a pose as confident as his. “I’m going to be blunt here.”
“Please.” He held out a hand, inviting her questions.
She raised her chin, daring him to be as truthful as she’d been with him. “You know all about my sexual past. But I don’t know anything about yours. Even if you’ve been with only a couple of women, you could have a dangerous strain of HPV and not even know it. If you’ve been with a lot of women, the odds increase. No way do I want to risk being infected again.”
“Of course not.” His eyes glinted silver in the fading twilight. Hard and shiny, they made her think of the foil shields that protected cars in the California sun.
“So—” Even more determined, she drilled him with her eyes. “Before things between us go any further, I need to know about your past.”
“Ask away.”
“How many?”
“Women?”
“Yes.”
Shane paused for several seconds, a delay MJ understood. Some secrets were harder to tell than others. When he spoke, his voice came out low. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but I want you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“That you won’t hold anything against me.”
It seemed that Shane, too, had a confession to make. Christian or not, he’d been a professional athlete—famous, wealthy, virile, and as handsome as a man could be. She didn’t care about his past on an emotional level. Who was she to judge anyone? But she was truly worried about the virus.
Chin high, she spoke like a diplomat negotiating a peace treaty. “I need a number. How many?”
“Zero.”
Her mouth gaped.
“I was—and am—a Christian waiting for marriage. I’m still waiting . . . for you.” He held up his hand and made the universal victory sign. “You’re safe with me, MJ. Because V is for Virgin.”
Chapter 24
Shane watched as MJ looked away, hung her head, and dropped down on the couch. He didn’t regret surprising her in the least. Saying I love you now, in his bachelor apartment after the LEEP, wasn’t his most romantic moment, but she needed to hear it—and to believe it. He couldn’t do anything about the D words like dirty and damaged, but he could go to war against the most formidable D word of all—doubt. Doubt in her own worth. Doubt in his commitment.
As for shocking her with the V word, he had simply told the truth.
He strode to the couch and sat next to her, their hips touching as the cushions sank with his weight. “That’s not how I planned to tell you.”
“Then how?” Her head jerked up. Planting her hands on the soft cushions, she shifted a foot away from him.
“I thought we’d have a conversation about awkward first dates, first kisses. That sort of thing.”
“Well . . . we just did.”
“So that’s it,” he said, matter-of-fact, hoping to calm her. “You don’t have to worry about HPV with me. We’re equal here, MJ.”
“Equal?” She gaped at him. “You’re”—she made air quotes—“‘as pure as the driven snow.’ And me? I’m the woman you couldn’t get away from fast enough back in the car. You apologized and that’s over, but it doesn’t change the facts.”
Before he could reply, she stood, went to the kitchen, and opened a cabinet. “I need a glass of water.”
Shane followed her, opened the fridge, and handed her a cold bottle, opening it first with a twist of his wrist. “Do you need ibuprofen?”
“No,” she muttered. “I just took some.”
“Let’s get you off your feet.” He was tempted to scoop her up and carry her, but she needed to be strong on her own. Instead he nodded toward the couch. “You have to be hurting. Let’s sit back down.”
Leaving her, he went down the hall to his bedroom to fetch a pillow and a fleece throw. When he returned, MJ was still in the kitchen, standing but slightly hunched, sipping water and looking sullen. He knew all about pain, both physical and mental. It made some people angry—and stubborn.
He set down the pillow but held the blanket, waiting for her.
She still didn’t budge. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Why?” He had hoped she’d be happy about his confession.
“For how I reacted.” She took a long swallow of water, then another one. “I was surprised. That’s all. Here I am—a mess. And here you are.” She shook her head, maybe unsure of what to say. “I think it’s really nice that you waited.”
Nice? There wasn’t anything nice about the battle against sexual temptation. Every day he waged an internal war between his faith and natural desires. In college, he had dated a lot, mostly Christian women who struggled the same way he did. Resisting temptation as a professional athlete had been even more difficult.
Still holding the water bottle, MJ ambled into the living room. Her eyes lasered to the television. “How about a movie?”
“A movie?” He couldn’t have heard right.
“Something light. How about a comedy?” She stayed on her feet, a good ten steps away from him. “There must be something on Netflix. It’ll pass the time until Lyn calls.” She lifted the remote and aimed it at the screen.
Shane reached her side in three strides, clasped his hand over hers, and stopped her from pushing a single button. “It won’t work.”
“What?”
“You’re trying to avoid this conversation.”
“There’s nothing more to say.”
He matched her angry glare with a strong one of his own. “Let me understand this—we were talking about us. And about sex. And there’s nothing else to say?”
“That’s right.” She stalked to the slider facing a garden, keeping her back to him as she stared through the glass.
Shane followed, stood behind her, but didn’t touch her. In front of them the courtyard was verdant with jasmine, spiky junipers, small palms, and giant ferns. A serpentine path led to a hot tub bubbling in a secluded corner, and soft green lights turned the spot into a manmade Garden of Eden.
MJ glowered at the tangled leaves and soft shadows, her arms crossed and her index finger tapping her biceps. “You’re right. I’m avoiding this whole conversation. It’s just—I didn’t know what to say. But I really do admire you for your choice. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Especially being a professional athlete.”
He refused to be placed on a pedestal. “It’s not easy for anyone. We can’t turn off what God put into us.”
“No.” She paused. “I’ve tried because of the virus, but those feelings—the ones I have for you—they won’t go away.”
“Would you want them to?”
“No,” she said, breathless. “But I’m scared. I’m not ready for what’s happening between us.”
“I am.”
“Shane, I—”
“MJ, listen. Please.”
She paused a long second. “All right.”
“We have something special here. I want sex to be a part of it—a strong part. That means doing things God’s way. Between a husband and wife, making love is sacred—and fun, too.” He paused to let that part sink in. “But our culture has twisted hooking up into a hobby, even a sport. You were a victim of that.”
She shook her head hard, annoyance evident in the swish of her hair. “I wasn’t a victim. I made a choice that night.”
“Yes, you did. But you also went along with the crowd. I’m not shaming you or anyone else. I just think people are settling for the fun and sacrificing the sacred.”
MJ thought a moment, her face reflected in the glass. “The fun part stops being fun when someone gets hurt.”
“Someone like you.” Ever so gently, he clasped her arms. “Or someone like me. I’ll never know my father. That hurts.”
She chewed her lip, probably thinking of Cody. “So what kept you strong?”
“I wanted to live my faith, but don’t think for a minute I haven’t thought about crossing the line.” Full confession time. “I had high hopes for this trip—you and me. I won’t apologize for wanting to make love to you. I still do—just not yet.”
Her eyes misted again, and she crossed her arms over her middle. “I just feel so damaged.”
“You’re not.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her against his chest, urging her to lean on him. It was time to demolish, destroy, and debunk the D words, and to embrace new ones that started with the letter B. “You’re beautiful and brave. Big-hearted. And bold, too.”
“Bold?” She sighed. “I don’t think so.”
“You just threw a Hail Mary pass. That’s gutsy.” He turned her in his arms, peering into her misty eyes as she lifted her face to his. “When I look at you, I see the woman God created just for me. A strong woman who’s caring, wise”—he ran a finger down her cheek—“and very desirable.”
Yearning flared in her eyes. Bright and alive, the spark gave him hope. But the ember died in a blink. “I feel it too, Shane. I do. But it’s not fair to you.”
“Since when is life fair?” He stroked her back, his touch firm and commanding. “I love you, MJ, exactly as you are. That’s why I’m sorry I pushed things in the car. If I had been a better man, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt again.”
She managed a rueful smile. “You got a rude surprise.”
“So did you just now.”
“Your choice wasn’t rude. Just a surprise.” Her voice trailed off to a wistful silence. Sighing, she stared down at her feet.
He couldn’t stand seeing her defeated—yet another obnoxious D word. “You have to stop punishing yourself.”
“I wish I could.”
He studied her lips, his breath slow and light. If she wanted to forget her pain, he’d be more than glad to make that happen. Fingers gentle, he tunneled his hands through her hair, tipped back her head, and was on the verge of bliss when two words trembled off her lips.
“But why?”
He stopped but didn’t back away. “Why what?”
“Why me?”
“Because of this.” He matched his mouth to hers, savored her silky lips, and claimed her with a kiss that foreshadowed the deepest commitment to come. She kissed him back just as passionately, molding her body to his, but then her lips tensed, trembled, and she pulled away.
Knowing he’d taken her as far as she could stand, he brushed a kiss on her temple. “Let’s watch that movie.”
“I’d like that.”
He guided her back to the couch, where he sat in the corner, giving her room to lie down with her head in his lap. After flipping through the movie choices, they settled on an adventure flick set in the Amazon jungle, complete with a touch of romance.
Twenty minutes later, MJ was sound asleep, breathing evenly and free from doubt, worry, and pain from the LEEP. Shane watched the movie, but mostly he considered the future.
When the film ended, she was still out cold. He knew it was Cody’s bedtime and that she needed to call her mom. Rather than wake her, he decided to call Mrs. Townsend himself. He didn’t have her personal cell number in his phone, so he borrowed MJ’s, eased off the couch, and went out to the patio to make the call.
At eight o’clock, Olivia cajoled Cody into bed by promising him an extra story. She loved reading to him, and he’d selected one of her favorite Dr. Seuss books. Her grandson was as smart as a whip. He could read Red Fish, Blue Fish by himself, and they both laughed at Thing One and Thing Two in The Cat in the Hat.
Olivia expected Melissa to call any minute to say goodnight, so she had placed her phone on Cody’s nightstand, part of the camp-style bedroom set she had purchased last week. Whether or not Melissa moved in, this would be Cody’s room when he visited Grammie, and Olivia wanted it to be filled with books, toys, and love.
Cody opened a book about dinosaurs and promptly named every single one. Olivia was beaming when her ringtone chimed.
She checked the ID, smiled at her daughter’s photograph, and snatched the phone to her ear. “Melissa, honey. How are you?”
“It’s Shane Riley, Mrs. Townsend.”
Something had to be wrong—terribly wrong. For Cody’s sake, she controlled her voice. “This is a surprise.”
“MJ’s just fine,” he assured her. “She fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her.”
A thoughtful thing to do. The kind of thing Richard Connor would have done. Rick had been on her mind ever since Melissa handed her the attic letters. Twice now Olivia had reached for them, and twice she had returned the unopened envelope to the back of the photo album.
Cody tugged on her arm. “Is that my mom?”
Olivia moved the phone away from her mouth. “No, honey. Your mom’s asleep. It’s Shane.”
“I want to talk to him!”
Shane’s chuckle filled her ear. When she heard male laughter at school, it always reminded her of Rick. Hearing it in her condo unnerved her to the point that she gave Cody the phone without speaking again to Shane.
While her grandson babbled, Olivia succumbed to memories—riding on the back of Rick’s Harley, her arms clinging to his waist as the motorcycle tipped and swayed; trying to love it the way he did despite the fear squeezing her heart. Where had she found the courage to ride with him in the first place? Maybe because he had pushed her. “You’re brave, Livy. Braver than you think.”
She wasn’t brave at all. If she was brave, she’d call Rick just to say hello.
; Disciplined as always, Olivia forced herself back to the present. Cody was babbling to Shane about his spelling test, how kite started with K and not C like cat, and did Shane know sometimes K was silent? Occasionally Cody stopped to listen, and once he said, “Can we play catch when you get home?” Shane said something, and Cody grinned. “I’m glad you’re coming back.”
So was Olivia. She had sincerely wished Shane good luck before the tryout, but she’d been terrified he’d lure Melissa and Cody back to Los Angeles.
“Okay, Shane. Bye.” Cody shoved the phone into Olivia’s hand. “He wants to talk to you.”
She raised the phone to her ear but hesitated. Did she call him Shane or Mr. Riley? Undecided, she skipped the greeting. “Thank you for taking care of Melissa.”
“It’s a privilege.”
His voice rang with confidence, a tone Olivia recognized. Shane Riley had some fight in him, and he’d just staked a claim on her daughter. Rick had spoken in that same tone when he asked her to marry him. Oh, Rick . . . Why couldn’t she have been brave? But she knew why. The divorce had shredded her courage along with her heart.
“Mrs. Townsend?”
Belatedly, she cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m here.”
“If you don’t mind, I have a work question for you.”
“Go right ahead.” She far preferred her professional world to her personal one.
“My contract was for one semester. If you have an opening, I’d like to come back for the spring. I need to be fully credentialed in Wyoming, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’re hired.”
A low chuckle came across the phone. “That was fast. Thank you. I appreciate it.” Pleasure echoed in his voice, and maybe relief, because after all, a man needed a job.
“You’re an excellent teacher, Mr. Riley. I’m sorry the tryout didn’t go the way you hoped, but I’m delighted to have you back. I mean that sincerely.”
“I’m glad to be back.”
“In fact, Coach Hardin asked about you this morning. He’d like you to coach the JV baseball team.”
When He Found Me (Road to Refuge Book 1) Page 24
