HeartStrings

by Savannah Kade

  Scarlett and Gunnar scampered down the steps, hitting the ends of the leashes and he tugged back a bit, letting them know he wouldn't be dragged. The vet and the dog book had both warned him. They couldn't do much damage now as far as tugging him around, but if he didn't train them he could have eighty-pound terrors on his hands in about six months. So, with one pocket full of small dog biscuits and the other full of plastic baggies, he let them head down the sidewalk.

  The air was definitely getting colder, but the sun was out and he even said hello to a mom with her two toddlers in a stroller. He looked at the kids differently now, after thinking about all that Shay was going through. He didn't even ask for updates from the lawyer. Shay would tell him what she wanted him to know, when she wanted him to know it. If she ever did.

  He had to be okay with that. A gift was a gift.

  His little duo made training stops where Craig worked them on some basics and handed out treats liberally. About an hour later, when he was on his own block and the dogs were starting to drag, their energy happily used up, he turned the corner to see his front door step was occupied. He couldn't see clearly who it was, but the clench in his heart told him with no uncertainty that it was Shay.

  She hadn't seen him yet. In fact, she looked like she'd been waiting there a while. Her purse was set beside her on the stoop, and she was looking down at her phone, maybe texting or playing a game.

  For a moment, he stopped and stared.

  It had been nine weeks since he'd seen her or heard from her. He'd gone out with TJ, but hadn't been impressed by any of the women at the bars they were frequenting. He'd then let Kelsey set him up with an acquaintance. Kelsey had tried to be casual, inviting the woman to family dinner. But at the end, she'd found a moment when only Craig could see her face, and Kelsey shook her head 'no,' her face scrunched up like she'd been offered a distasteful food. It wouldn’t work out. Craig had agreed.

  But now, sitting on his porch steps, he could see the reason why nothing appealed to him. He wasn't over her.

  Given what they'd been through, he hadn't quite understood how deeply he was under her spell. She kept leaving him, pushing him away, and he let her. He had to. Somehow, she kept turning back up.

  When he slowed his pace, the puppies picked up theirs, tugging at their leashes. Craig wondered if they remembered her, or if they were just drawn to her like he was.

  He was a little closer before her head popped up and she spotted him, immediately reacting. Shoving her phone down into her purse, she jumped up to standing, then wiped her hands on her jeans in a clear show of nervousness.

  She stood like that, unmoving, as he approached his own front door, Scarlett and Gunnar tugging harder on their leashes, trying to get to her. A few times she pushed a smile onto her lips as she watched him come closer, but it didn't look natural or overly happy.

  When the puppies made it to the hem of her jeans, Shay wiped her hands on her thighs one last time and offered a tentative, "Hi."

  "Hi." He looked at her, wondering what it was this time. Though he waited for a moment she didn't say anything else and he had to prod her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

  He hadn't been able to make the overly polite words come out with a casual cadence, and she clearly picked up on that. While just the sight of her—just the knowledge that she was here—grabbed him in the gut and twisted, he walked around her on his way up the steps and slid his key in the lock as though she were the mailman and not the one he couldn't forget.

  He heard her take in a breath. "I was hoping we could talk."

  He nodded and motioned her to follow him inside. The door led almost directly into the living room, so he waited until she picked up her purse and closed the door behind her before he unclipped the dogs and went about setting up the baby gates he'd purchased. Craig did it to avoid talking to her for another minute, and as he looked at the puppies he realized they'd be over the gates in another week. Maybe sooner if they put their minds to it.

  By the time he'd set everything perfectly, she still hadn't said another word. She looked nervous, and he wondered what made her drive all this way again after how it had gone down last time. "I do have a phone."

  She nodded. "I really wanted to talk to you in person." Then she licked her lips as he waited her out.

  Craig had no reason to make this easier for her. But as he watched her nervously try to start, he realized that response was petty and jealous. He wanted her for his own and he couldn't have her. End of story. No need to make her upset about it too.

  Though she was the one who'd chosen this path, he didn't think it would have been her first choice either had things been different. So he opted to crack the door a bit.

  Making the first move toward peace was another thing that was new to him. As hard as it was, he made a mental note to tell TJ thank you for each time he'd reached out to Craig when he'd been acting like a dog backed into a corner. He found himself taking his own deep breath of awkward air. "Would you like a drink?"

  She nodded and he found ease in working out the details—soda or tea or water? Ice? Would she like to sit at the table?

  Shay did, hanging her purse over the back of the chair, and holding the glass as though it were a talisman. "It's over."

  He looked at her, wondering why she'd driven so far to tell him that.

  Then she clarified. "With the courts. With the boys."

  "Oh." He nodded and took a sip of the tea he'd poured himself from the jug. "I know. I got the last bill."

  "So you know what happened?" She asked, her head tipped.

  "No. It was a gift. I paid the bill. I didn't follow up or ask how you were spending it." He shrugged, growing uncomfortable again.

  "Well, it turns out Owen isn't even Jason's son."

  That shocked him. It would mean Shay was cheating on Jason.

  "No, I didn't." She looked at him sharply, reading the path of his thoughts. "Long awful story for another day, but that terminated Jason's parental rights pretty quickly. Wilcox, the lawyer, shook him down with some criminal records and then Jason got himself locked up for assault. All in all, he's gone from our lives for at least five to ten years and hopefully for good."

  She took a breath and smiled.

  "If it's over, then you got Aaron's dad's rights terminated, too?" Craig asked it as though it was a casual question and not a key to his soul.

  "No." She shook her head. "But I got sole custody. And Brian can't claim any visitation without me present, and he can't claim any at all until he passes six biweekly drug tests in a row, all clean. He has to initiate the testing then request visitation through the court."

  "Wow." Though it would require a lot from Brian, Craig thought that was a reasonable solution. A man should be able to see his child if he was clean and sober and the mother was present.

  "Yeah. I agreed to it. Honestly, I don't think he'll ever do it." She took another sip. Then she dropped the bomb. "Since I'm not tied there anymore. I'm moving away from Bristol."

  Chapter 27

  Craig felt his heart slip up and lodge in the back of his throat.

  Though he'd told himself he was done with Shay—even as he acknowledged that he wasn't over her—her words sparked the knowledge that he'd harbored some real hope that things would come back around. That at the very least, he could hop in his car and drive to see her if the urge hit.

  What if she took off for L.A.? Her sister was there.

  Colorado? South Florida? Montana? They were so far away.

  He inhaled a deep breath through his nose and tried to look unaffected. He wasn't sure whether he pulled it off. So he offered her what he thought was an encouraging nod. "That sounds like a plan."

  She looked nervous, and for a moment it occurred to him to wonder why. She wasn't tied to him anymore. Even the bill had been paid. But as he watched, she swallowed.

  "You said to put my savings into a college fund for them, but I think I have something better." She wrung her han
ds together, and he watched as she took another fortifying breath. "I'm going to try to get us a decent house in a good neighborhood. The boys can get a better education, grow up where there aren't beer bottles in the street. If other kids have parents that encourage them to be educated . . . maybe they can get scholarships like Zoe did. It won't wait until they're eighteen. The benefits can start now. And if I buy, I can take the equity to fund their college."

  "That sounds like a great plan." He still had no clue why she'd come here to tell him that. He was attempting to force his words to sound normal around the thought of her being even farther away.

  "So I went online and I did some research. You know, schools, real estate value, neighborhoods." She reached into her purse. "I have about five different places that fit."

  Somehow, her hands managed even more fine tremors as she retrieved what looked like a map of the entire United States. Shay spread it out across the table with her hands flat. "Here's what Zoe and I found. There's a place in Irvine, California. It's good, and we'd be close to Zoe, but I don't know that she wants to stay in L.A. forever. And with traffic, we wouldn't be that close. Here's another one in central Florida. There would be a beach we could drive to and that would be cool. But I don't know anyone in Florida."

  She worked through one in upstate NY that apparently made the most economic sense in a 'house-to-school' ratio she'd worked out. "But I don't know if I could find the right kind of work there."

  He wasn't paying attention.

  There was a red circle just northeast of Nashville.

  When she finally looked up at him, the words dripped out of her mouth and faded away. Her finger drifted to that circle. "That's why I'm here."

  He nodded.

  "Craig, I know people here. I should be able to get some intros to other musicians who need stage costuming hand-made. There's a lot of that business here. Plus, the theater scene is pretty big in some parts of town—I have a referral from Bristol. It's a small theater, but my portfolio should speak for itself."

  He nodded.

  She looked him in the eyes. "It's my favorite location out of all of them. It's where I want to be."

  "Why are you asking me?" He could hardly breathe. Having her here? Maybe running into her? "Nashville is big enough for the two of us."

  "This area of town. This county has the best schools for the home values. But I wanted to ask you first—"

  He interrupted, barely able to keep from jumping up from the table and asking why she couldn't just leave him alone and let him get over her. "It's a free country. Move wherever you want!"

  "I can't live here if you don't want me here." The words were breathy, light, far too worried for the woman who held all the cards. "I can't live here if . . ."

  She trailed off, as though unable to speak the words.

  Craig almost bit his tongue trying to hold back and not yell something at her. But what, he didn't know.

  "I can't live here and see you sometimes, I mean, we have some of the same friends. So if I was here and ran into you, if you were seeing someone, I mean."

  She wasn't even speaking English, her words were so jumbled. He was about to say something to make her shut up and leave, when she finally pushed it out.

  "I couldn't live here and not be with you. It would break my heart." She looked straight at him, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  Craig stared back. His own heart stopped beating, surely. He thought he understood what she meant, but was horribly afraid that he was inventing the interpretation he wanted. "What?"

  "I want to move here." A tear broke free and ran down her cheek. "And I want to be with you. I want to give us a try. I need you to tell me if there's any hope—"

  Later he would wonder if he'd jerked her to him too hard. He was never sure if he went around the table between them or over it. He only knew that the last words didn't get out of her mouth because his lips were on hers.

  He had her out of the chair and pressed up along him before he even realized he did it. But the taste of her hit his veins like sugar. The feel of her tingled and buzzed where he touched her and radiated outward from there. Hardly able to breathe, but unwilling to pull back, he held her to him. His mouth fused hers, tongue seeking before he even consciously understood that, yes, she was kissing him back.

  It took a minute of holding her, tasting her, savoring the feel of her, to know that she was holding onto him, too. Only then did his hands move up into her hair, keeping her where he needed her. Through the fabric of his shirt, he felt her small, capable hands cling to him.

  It was relief washing through him. The need for her that he'd been holding at bay for months was finally loosed. After the first tidal wave passed, it changed. To hunger.

  For just a moment, he broke the kiss, pulled back to look into her eyes, to see if she was with him. Craig didn't bother hiding the need he was certain shone there. Shay might not know all the details, but she understood. It was more than he had ever hoped for. So when he saw the want returned in her own gaze, it was all he needed.

  This time when he kissed her, he bent down and scooped her knees, as though if he picked her up, held onto her, nothing could take her away from him again. The weight of her felt right in his arms. Though he waited for it, she didn't protest as he carried her down the short hallway and into his room. He barely registered the small noises as he carefully laid her on the bed and waited a beat to give her time to comment.

  Her only reply was to sit up and wrap her arms around him, move him until his mouth came to hers, and she sank into him, into a kiss driven by her needs and wants as much as his. Desire shot through him, crackling like lightning. Knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her set his hands free to touch and test. It had been far too long since he'd felt her skin beneath his fingertips, since he'd been naked against her.

  Toeing off his shoes, he climbed onto the bed. Overwhelmed, Craig reached up and pushed her hair back from her face, framing her features for him to see clearly in the dim light of the room.

  The sun was outside in full force, but inside a cocoon held only the two of them. He always gave her time to back out, to turn away from him. Some small part, deep inside, even after all the times she'd come to him, was afraid she would turn away, that she would reject him. But she didn't. Shay reached up for him, her eyes closing as she neared. She inhaled as though she were breathing him in, and Craig reveled in her choice. She chose him.

  He leaned toward her, fusing his mouth to hers again, full with the knowledge that she was choosing more than just this once, more than just today. The knowledge that she could finally be his swamped him, leaving him drowning in desire for her. His hands sliding under the hem of her sweater, touching skin that felt like the silk of her neck tasted under his tongue. The sound that breathed out of her lungs was a siren call, some undeniable cross between a whimper and a moan. He answered it by pushing the knit up and over her head, tangling her arms above her while he looked his fill.

  Her round breasts strained toward him, her back arching up to meet him as she writhed on the bed. Her legs, still in their jeans, wrapped tight around his hips, triggering adrenaline and need. Blood rushed from his head, leaving him light but never more sure of himself than he was right now.

  Pushing his hips against the juncture of her legs, he heard the same whimper/moan from her. His fingers trailed down the inside of her arms, still tangled in her sweater over her head, until he found her breasts. His touch there, over and around her bra, changed her movements from writhing to jerking in an attempt to get her hands free. He unsnapped her bra and pushed it, too, up and over her head, taking one hard nipple in his mouth.

  He needed to be inside her. Needed it a long time ago. And though he wanted to take it slow, he didn't have it in him. It didn't look like she needed that either. Pulling back and almost crying himself at the loss of contact, he reached behind him to find her shoes. Her feet had hooked behind him, using that force to pull him close, and grind her hips against his e
rection.

  The sounds he heard now were her shoes hitting the floor and the moan that escaped his own lungs from the feel of her against him. He reached for the snap of her jeans, lust taking his control as he worked under the sole knowledge that he needed her naked. Now.

  Even as he moved her legs deftly to one side, stripping her jeans and panties in one motion, her fingers found the skin at his waist, moving and twisting him until he realized she only wanted his shirt off.

  Taking over the task as though he were drowning and that would get him air, he peeled the shirt up. As it passed by his face, he realized that she was no longer helping with his shirt, but had nimble fingers working the snaps on his jeans.

  Craig tried to concentrate on the task of getting the shirt off, but the feel of her fingers stroking him as she pushed his jeans down just far enough to set him free made him fumble more than he could get past. When he finally tossed the shirt blindly behind him, it was to the feel of her warm hands stroking him until his hips jutted forward, pressing into her touch.

  Groans, deep and guttural, escaped him as he moved against her talented fingers. He knew there was more, but was unable to think beyond the feel of her on him. It was only when she reached up to pull his mouth down for a soul searching kiss, only when she released him did he realize he had seconds to save himself.

  Reaching out, he fumbled in the bedside drawer purely by feel. Shay trailed her fingers down his chest, came up to her knees on the bed, placing her just a little above him, so she leaned down to kiss him. He tilted his face up to meet her, a drowning man surfacing for the only touch he'd ever known that would save him.

  Hastily, he shoved down his jeans and underwear, awkwardly kicking the knot of fabric away. He was clumsy pushing the condom on, rolling it haphazardly down, until he was ready and his hands were free.

  The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, holding her face to his, so he could kiss her, breathe her in. The other hand reached behind her thigh, lifting and pulling her up against him, naked skin to naked skin. Thinking it was a sensation he hadn't felt in far too long, he tipped her backward onto the sheets of the unmade bed, her body naturally lining up to his.