“That’s the world we live in. Men don’t back down from a fight, ever. Come on.” Charlotte turned toward the door. Not knowing what else to do and wanting to get to Shane, Brooke grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and followed.
They found him leaning with his back against the side of his Jeep, looking up at the stars. When he heard them approach he said, “Forgot you had my keys. Screwed up my exit strategy.”
“Probably a good thing,” Charlotte said. “Or Princess Black Belt would have found herself hoofing it back to the homestead.”
Maybe it was Brooke’s imagination, but the closer she got to Shane the chillier the air felt on her exposed skin. She slid on her jacket, came to a stop in front of him, and looked up. “I’m sorry.” For embarrassing him, not for protecting him.
He tilted his head down. “You never listen,” he said, his demeanor so calm it scared her. “You always think you know what’s best, but you don’t.”
“I care about you. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Because no way a weak cripple like me could handle a wuss like him? Thanks for the compliment.” He turned to open the front passenger door. Over the top of the Jeep he told Charlotte, “Let’s get a move on. I need to piss.”
He’d chosen that word specifically to push her away. Well, not this time. “Shane, please, don’t do this.” She tried to grab his arm and turn him around.
He yanked it away. “Don’t.”
Charlotte revved the engine.
Knowing she’d drive off and leave her standing there without a second thought, Brooke hurried to get into the backseat.
They drove home with the windows open and the music blaring, making conversation impossible. Brooke tried to talk to Shane on the way into the house but he ignored her, looking straight ahead, pushing her away like an annoying dog if she got too close.
Patsy greeted them from the kitchen. “You kids have fun?”
In the entryway Shane stopped and looked down at Brooke, his face devoid of emotion. “Go pack. Aaron’s on his way to get you.”
What? “Why?”
“I called him,” Shane said matter-of-factly. “You don’t belong in my world. You don’t fit and I don’t want you here.”
This could not be happening. “I begged you not to fight, but you wouldn’t listen. Your friends and family,” she glared at Charlotte, “just stood there watching. So I did the only thing I could think of to protect you.”
“It’s my job to protect you,” he yelled. “Not the other way around.”
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” she said, doing her best to keep calm when anger, frustration, and fear filled her to near bursting. He was pushing her away. If she couldn’t get him to listen to reason she’d lose him. “That was not my intent.”
“But you’d do it again, wouldn’t you?” He stared her down. “Don’t you dare lie to me, I know you would.”
She thought about how to answer and decided on the truth. “If I thought you were in danger.” She let out a breath. “If I thought there was something I could do to help, then yes, I would do whatever I could to protect you, because I care about you.” Did he not understand the concept of caring for someone? “You can’t expect me to stand by and do nothing when someone is threatening you.”
“That’s exactly what I expect!” he yelled. “I expect you to let me handle it. I expect you to listen and do what I tell you to do.”
“Or what? You’ll kick me out of your life without so much as a second chance?”
Patsy walked out of the kitchen. “Of course not—”
“Butt out, Ma,” Shane snapped.
Patsy didn’t butt out. Hands on her ample hips, she let Shane have it. “Last time I checked this is my house, and I get to say what I want inside of it and decide who stays in it. And Brooke is welcome to stay for as long as she’d like.”
“Damn,” Charlotte said. “She likes Brooke better than both of us.”
“If you have nothing helpful to add to the conversation,” Patsy told Charlotte, “go home to your own house.”
“My children are here,” Charlotte protested.
“You can get them tomorrow.” Patsy turned. “Come.” She took Brooke and Shane by the hand. “I’ll put on some coffee and you can tell me what happened. A little apple pie and I’m sure we can work this out.”
Apparently Charlotte didn’t want to wait for pie and coffee. “Turns out Princess Karate Chop is a black belt. Some guy at the bar challenged Shane. Brooke got in the middle of it and kicked his ass.”
Patsy shot Charlotte a dirty look. “One more curse word out of you and I’m going for the spoon.”
Charlotte held up both hands and tried to look contrite.
Someone knocked on the door. Not just any someone. Aaron.
Shane turned and limped to the TV room.
Patsy went to answer the door.
Charlotte pulled out a stool by the counter and sat down to watch.
Brooke followed Shane. “Please. Can’t we talk about this?” She noticed Shane’s father sitting in his recliner watching television. “Oh. Hello, Mr. Develen.”
“Told you to call me Al,” was all he said.
Shane sat down and stared at the TV screen.
“Shane,” she said. “Please.”
And right there, on the very same couch where twenty-four hours earlier he’d held her and kissed her and stroked her to orgasm, he sat giving his full attention to some sports program, completely ignoring her. Done with the conversation. Done with her.
Tears of frustration stung her eyes; hurt pinched her heart.
“You okay?” Aaron asked quietly, coming to stand behind her.
No, she wasn’t. But she nodded.
“Do you need help packing?” he asked.
She shook her head no.
Shane finally spoke…to Aaron. “Did you know she’s a black belt? Turns out she doesn’t need protecting after all.”
Aaron took his time responding.
Brooke stood there, looking down at the ground, wondering how Aaron would react.
When he spoke he said, “No, I didn’t know that. But, even so, she most certainly does need protecting, because she refuses to believe her father has political rivals who would seek to do her harm. Because she’s too kind and trusting, and cares too much about people who don’t appreciate her and think nothing of hurting her. Because she’ll stand up for everyone else, yet she rarely stands up for herself.”
At Aaron’s kind words, Brooke, who, prior to this weekend had prided herself on being able to manage her emotions in public, turned into Aaron’s chest and started to cry.
He wrapped his arms around her, always there for her. “Let’s go home,” he said.
“To your house,” she clarified.
“Hannah and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Wake up.” His mother’s stern voice pierced Shane’s sleeping mind.
“I know for a fact I locked that door,” he grumbled, keeping his eye closed, hoping she’d go away.
“Good thing I’m the keeper of the keys.” She pressed his glasses into his hand. “Put these on. There’s something you need to see.”
“Then will you leave?” he asked, not moving.
“Then I will leave.”
“Fine.” Shane rolled onto his side facing her and put on his glasses.
She held out a stack of computer papers.
“What’s all that?”
“This is why it took Brooke so long to get packed last night. I found them on the printer this morning.” She sat down on the side of his bed, not caring there wasn’t enough room for her.
He scooted his hips back but warned, “Don’t get comfortable,” then pushed up onto his elbow. “And you mean Brooke who thinks I’m a cripple who can’t take care of myself? That Brooke?”
She gave him the stink eye. “I’m talking about Brooke the woman willing t
o fight for you, and I don’t mean in a bar brawl. I’m talking about fighting for your future. Look at these.” Ma tossed some pages at him. “Articles on the GI Bill and veterans going back to college after deployment, about veterans rejoining the workforce and employers willing to modify job requirements for injured veterans. An article on how to reduce eye strain when working on the computer.”
She held out a page with a handwritten list on it. “She made a list of occupations she thought you capable of doing.”
Shane looked through the pages, noting the titles and headlines, reading her list. It must have taken hours to find all this stuff, and she’d done it for him. I care about you, she’d told him. But he’d been too ornery to listen. So he’d pushed her away. And she’d let him.
“Honey, I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way.” Ma set her hand on his shoulder. “It’s time for you to move out, to leave this town and start fresh someplace else. I know you have friends here, but they’re friends who never left, friends living in the past who still think fighting in bars is okay. That’s not who you are anymore.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but Ma talked over him.
“Not because you’re weak and can’t defend yourself if you absolutely had to, but because you need to be smarter now, more careful of your good eye and both legs. Brooke was right. You should never have allowed yourself to get goaded into a fight last night.”
At some point while lying awake in the very early morning hours, Shane had come to that very same conclusion. But still, Brooke shouldn’t have—
“And,” Ma emphasized. “If your so-called friends didn’t step in to save you from your stupidity then you need new friends.”
“No problem. As soon as I get dressed I’ll run out and find some.” He didn’t fit into his old life. He didn’t fit into Brooke’s life. Where the hell did he fit? “Are we done? I’m tired.” He flopped back on the bed, needing to be alone, needing to think and finally decide what the hell he wanted to do with the rest of his life.
But his mother wasn’t done. “Go after her.”
“What for? We have no future together. Her leaving is for the best.” Even if it made his insides ache with loss and his limbs heavy with despair and his heart pound with anxiety at the thought of living a life without Brooke in it. “Besides, she must hate me.” Rightly so. She’d put herself at risk to protect him, and rather than thank her he’d acted like an obnoxious ass, yelling and unceremoniously tossing her out.
“She doesn’t strike me as the type who wastes time on hate.”
Maybe not. But he deserved her hatred. Shane ran his hand over his face. “We’re so different. She’s so much better…” Nicer. Kinder. Smarter.
“Stop. Look at me.” When he did she continued. “You both care about each other. Focus on that; build on that.”
“It’ll never work. I’ve got nothing to offer her.”
“What about your heart?”
A woman like Brooke deserved so much more: a beautiful house, an expensive car, and fancy clothes. Things he couldn’t afford to give her. A stable life with a stable man. At present he failed to meet either requirement. A man worthy of her. He wasn’t. Shane shook his head. “It’s not enough.”
“Where’s the man who wanted to fight last night?” She gave his shoulder a shove. “Now that you have something worth fighting for you’re going to give up and walk away?”
More like limp away. “What about the religion thing?” His mom was a devout Christian.
“I want you to be happy.” She took his hand between both of hers. “Brooke makes you happy. She’s a lovely young woman who I would love to have as a daughter-in-law.”
“Whoa.” Shane pulled his hand back.
Ma ignored him, adding, “And I like the idea of not having to fight the in-laws to have you and Brooke and your children over for Christmas and Easter—”
“Stop.” Shane gave her butt a shove with his knee. “Do not go there.” He didn’t dare let himself think it possible. “Time to leave.”
But it was too late. With the mention of children, images of sweet little girls who looked like Brooke skipped through his mind. Then they karate chopped little boys on the playground. Lord help him. He imagined bringing his wife and daughters to his childhood home to celebrate holidays with his family. So many happy memories.
Ma said, “Only if you promise to think about what I’ve said.”
He feared that getting himself to stop thinking about it would be the problem. “Fine.”
“Good.” Ma leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll go make you breakfast. Then I’ll pack a bag of snacks for your trip.”
Alone in his room once again, Shane stared up at the ceiling. Could he have a future with Brooke? Was it as simple as offering her his heart? Could they focus on that and build on that as his mother had suggested?
Brooke’s words popped into his head. All you have to do is love me. Loving me is enough.
He did love her. But had he figured it out too late? If he apologized and begged for forgiveness, would she be generous enough to give him the second chance he’d denied her?
Then they’d have to deal with the investigation, the press conference, and her parents. They’d need a place to live—someplace affordable where they’d both feel comfortable. He’d need a job to support her; no way he wanted to live his life dependent on government-issued disability benefits that politicians could decrease or take away on a whim if it suited them. He needed to be a productive member of society, a man capable of providing for his family.
Maybe he should call her. He reached for his phone. Staring at the screen he decided, no, this was too important. He needed to talk to her in person, which meant first he’d have to find her. He scrolled through his contacts to find Aaron’s number.
—
On Wednesday morning Brooke lay thinking in the canopied bed in the beautiful bedroom Hannah had dubbed “Brooke’s room” back when Brooke was seventeen and having trouble with her mother. A weekend shouldn’t change someone. Yet, after forty-eight hours with Shane and his family, Brooke had become a different person.
Physically tougher. Mentally stronger.
The karate had worked. Never again would she question her ability to keep herself safe. She’d triumphed in her first real-life physical altercation. But as a result, she’d lost the man she loved.
A light knock drew her attention. “Yes?”
The door opened partially and Hannah stuck her head in. “You have company.”
Brooke sat up, still in her pajamas. “I’m not dressed for company.”
The door pushed open and Neve strutted in wearing her trademark black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. “Then it’s a good thing it’s only me.”
Hannah said, “I’ll leave you two to talk,” as she closed the door.
“What are you doing here?” Brooke asked, thrilled beyond belief.
Neve ran to the bed, taking her down with a tackle hug. “I have news,” she said when she let go, plopping down on the bed facing her, one leg bent, the other on the floor. “First,” she reached into the red shopping bag she’d dropped by the side of the bed and pulled out a small brown paper bag. “A toasted whole wheat cinnamon raisin bagel with a schmear of light cream cheese.”
Unfortunately, Brooke hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. Losing Shane had left an uncomfortable gaping emptiness inside of her. It took up so much space it felt like there wasn’t any room for food. She took the bag and set it on the night table beside her bed. “Thank you.”
Neve reached in again and pulled out another small brown paper bag. “Low-fat banana nut muffin?”
When Brooke didn’t take it, Neve jiggled the bag. “Your favorite,” she singsonged enticingly.
“I’m sorry.” Brooke took the bag and set it beside the bagel.
“This is bad. Very bad.” Neve shook her head. “Hannah was right to call me.”
“Hannah called you?”
“She’s
worried you’re not eating. Luckily I came prepared.” Neve pulled out another bag. “Chocolate-frosted doughnut,” she sang, smiling. “You know you want it.”
Neve opened the bag and held it under Brooke’s nose. The delicious scent made her mouth water and her stomach growl. “You know I can’t—”
Two single-serving cartons of skim milk appeared in her hand.
Brooke grabbed for them and the doughnut. “I love you.”
“I know. And, just in case you can’t tell by the fact I’ve already driven over two and a half hours and it’s only nine o’clock in the morning, or by the fact I brought you skim milk to drink with your doughnut—and you know how I feel about that—I’ll say it out loud. I love you, too.”
While Brooke indulged in her doughnut, Neve munched on the muffin.
“Soooo,” Neve said. “A black belt in karate. How did I not know this?”
It was something Brooke had done for herself, something unladylike and very out of character. “You usually work on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Attending the classes gave me something to do. How did you find out?”
“Aaron told Nate what happened. Nate called Shane and told him off. I happened to overhear, ‘You want to fight so bad I’ll fight you.’ ”
Some doughnut crumbs got lodged in Brooke’s throat. “He wouldn’t,” she choked out, coughing.
“I’m going to go, too, to take down the amazon sister.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I am,” Neve said, disappointed. “I wish I wasn’t. They both deserve a good ass kicking after what they did to you.”
“They’re in my past.” Brooke crumpled up her garbage. “I’m over it.” A total lie. “I’m moving on.” Admittedly, the “moving on” would take a good long while. But she would. “So what news do you have for me? Keeping in mind I am in desperate need of good news and would prefer to hold off on bad news if that’s all you have?”
“It’s over.”
Brooke didn’t dare get her hopes up without clarification. “What’s over?”
“The investigation!” Neve bounced her butt on the bed in excitement. “Your dad got the governor to make a phone call. He told the powers that be at the police station he wanted the investigation completed, ASAP. Oh,” Neve’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth like she’d let something slip she shouldn’t have. “I’m not supposed to know that. Neither are you.”
Loving You Is Easy Page 23
