Shamus (Welcome to Spartan Book 3)

by Ashley Lyn

  I carefully place the picture of Jenny on the nightstand between the beds. She had these pregnancy pictures taken just days before she passed. I could never make myself open the package and look at the photos.

  She looks beautiful, standing in a field of wildflowers. A crown of flowers on her head, and a flowing white dress, her hands cup her belly. Her happy face is looking right at the camera, her blinding smile so full of love and happiness. Pressing a kiss to my fingers, I place it over her lips and walk out of the room.

  Sliding into my bed, I collapse into the first, truly restful sleep I’ve had since this nightmare began.

  “Son of a bitch,” I mutter, making the old woman next to me gasp. I stand and stretch my arms out. I’ve been sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the airport waiting room for an hour and a half, so I start pacing. Why the fuck I got here so early is beyond me. Things at the office have been beyond tense. Something’s going on, and fuck Tristan for keeping me in the dark.

  Pacing in four-inch heels is a shitty idea, and my shoe slips on the slick tiles, causing me to roll my ankle. I curse up a fucking storm. I barely contain the urge to take off my shoes and chuck them across the airport terminal. Limping my way back over to the chair, I sit back down, and the old woman gets up and moves over four chairs. I have the juvenile urge to stick my tongue out at her, but I contain myself, barely.

  Looking at the time, I still have about fifteen minutes. Closing my eyes, I try my best to calm my nerves.

  ***

  I slowly peel my eyes open, and sweet baby Jesus! Lust has sucked all the oxygen from my lungs. Desire pools in my gut and feels like a lead weight pressing on my middle. I try and sit up, but my muscles are languid, and I can’t seem to get my arms and legs to function properly.

  Ginuwine’s “Pony” starts playing in my head as Shamus makes his way to where I’m sitting. Well, slouched, since I can’t seem to budge. It’s been four very long weeks since I’d seen him. His hair has grown out in a glorious mass of thick, reddish curls, that are calling out for my fingers. His beard is trimmed close to his face, giving him a roguish look. Sucking in a wheezing breath through my teeth, my body shudders. He looks like he’s put on about thirty pounds of pure muscle. His tight white T-shirt is stretched to the max, outlining his delicious biceps and defined pecs.

  He readjusts his shoulder bag, making his shirt ride up a bit, and a slice of pure heaven is visible above his belt buckle, revealing glorious abs, and a hint of a red happy trail.

  I shiver a bit when I get to his thick, powerful thighs, encased in dark denim.

  My phone rings in my hand, shocking me out of reverie. I stand up too quick, and my feet slide right out from under me. Shamus catches me in one strong arm around the waist. My breasts are smashed to his chest, and his hand is barely skimming the top of my butt cheek, and I feel his fingers twitch.

  I look up into his gorgeous baby blues, and the world stops for a split second. I reach up and run my finger along his jaw. I almost moan when the look on his face registers. The fire in his eyes is burning hot enough to melt my expensive panties right off. He closes his eyes and the world rights itself. I’m staring at his lips when I realize he’s speaking to me.

  “I’m sorry, what?” He smiles at me, and I almost get sucked into the Shamus fog again.

  “I asked if you were okay?”

  “Yup, sure. I’m a klutz, ya know? Well, it’s great to see you and all…I mean, you look great, really great. I kind of want to lick you, but…shit, I didn’t mean…well, I did, but fuck. I’m rambling. I’m going to shut up now.”

  My cheeks are burning hot as I pull away from him. Putting weight on my injured ankle, a small cry comes out, and he swings me up into his arms. Sitting in his arms, shocked as hell, he leans down and grabs my purse, and starts making his way to the baggage pick up.

  “Shamus, put me down.” That was a token plea; I don’t really want him to put me down, and my hands grip his shirt as I lay my cheek on his shoulder. I may or may not have tried to sniff his neck.

  “You can’t put weight on that foot. I’ll never understand why women wear those death trap shoes. Jenny was never without her heels, and I never understood it.”

  “Jenny liked her high heels?” I’m surprised he brought her up so easily. When I was at his house, it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about her.

  He takes a deep breath. “She did. She topped out at five foot nothing, and with me being so tall, she said they were necessary.” He shakes his head and smiles sadly. “Talking about Jenny is getting easier. It still hurts, but I want to be able to talk to the kids about her without breaking down.”

  I hug him, and feel him let out a shuddering breath. Pulling back, I see that we’re in the baggage claim area. Shamus sets me down in a nearby chair and I pull off my shoe to look at my ankle. It’s puffed up and angry looking.

  “Motherfluffer.” Why me? Seriously?

  Cursing, because my car is parked in B-F-fucking-E, I remember that my phone was ringing earlier. I look at the missed call and see that it was my mother. Glancing over at Shamus and seeing that the carousel still isn’t moving, I call her back.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Savannah, what time is Shamus getting in?”

  “He’s here. We’re waiting for his luggage.”

  “Are you okay? You sound upset.” I sniffle a little because my ankle hurts like a mother, and I’m the biggest wuss.

  “I twisted my ankle.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I told you wearing heels was a bad idea. Those floors are slicker than snot.” I try to move my foot, and pain shoots up my leg. Sucking in a breath, my eyes tear up.

  “Savannah, dear, it doesn’t sound like just a little sprain. I’ll call your sister and tell her you and Shamus will be making a pit stop at her Urgent Care.”

  “Mom, really, it’s fine.”

  “Savannah Marie, you will get your butt in and get it looked at, or I will call Shamus and give him directions myself.”

  “Fine.”

  “Don’t you “fine” me, girl.”

  Hanging up with my mom, I sit and sulk while I try to get the tears to stop. My head is turned to the side, looking out at the people, and I totally miss Shamus walking back over. He kneels and puts his hands on my knees. Looking at him, I sniffle a little.

  “My ankle really hurts. My sister Angie works at an Urgent Care, and my mom wants us to stop so I can get it looked at.” He smiles at me, and angels start singing somewhere because it isn’t just a tiny grin, it’s an all-out blinder of a smile.

  “Let’s go, Monkey Butt. I’m going to give you a piggyback ride to the car, and you can give me directions.”

  “I will not piggyback. I’ll just limp my way out there, and don’t call me monkey butt. What kind of fucked up nickname is that?” He laughs again, and it manages to bring a smile to my face.

  “Not happening. You have two options. I can give you a piggyback ride to the car, or you can tell me where your car is. I’ll go get it, and you can meet me at the curb.”

  “I’m shit at giving directions, so you’ll never find it. I promise, it’ll be fine.”

  “Piggyback it is. Good thing you have these fancy pants on and not a skirt.” He winks at me.

  He turns around, giving me his back, and fuck me, this is embarrassing. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he stands up and I squeak. My purse slung around my neck, he snags his luggage and off we go, schlepping our way across the parking lot.

  “Can we find a new nickname? I don’t like this monkey butt business.”

  I can feel him silently laughing, and I resist the urge to blow raspberries on his neck. I maneuver my phone out of my purse and pull up urban dictionary on my phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking up the definition of monkey butt.” He just shakes his head.

  When the first set of definitions pulls up, an outraged gasp explodes. “Shamus, this says a monkey butt is when you have sw
eaty ass all day, and your ass chafes!” He’s laughing so hard, I think he’s going to drop me. Smacking his arm, he straightens. “I do not give you a red ass. Shamus, this nickname is totally unacceptable.”

  “I’ll think of another one then. Sweetums? Bumpkin? Cheeky Monkey? Chiclet? I got it! Shmoopsie Poo.”

  I’m laughing my ass off. “You’re terrible at picking nicknames.”

  “Are we getting close to your car yet? Christ, I think you parked as far away as possible.”

  I dig my keys out of my purse. “I’ll just hit the panic button on my remote thingy, because that’s how I usually find my car. I always forget where I park.”

  I hit the button and the horn blares, scaring the shit out of us both. He sidesteps, and I start sliding off to the side. Wrapping my limbs around him so tight, I can feel my arms shaking. He manages to the right himself using his luggage while I hit the panic button again, turning off the horn.

  “Son of a bitch, Savannah.”

  “So, there’s my car,” I say sheepishly, looking at my car which is right next to us.

  “Savannah, we were like a foot away from your car! Swear to Christ, I think my heart just jumped clear out my chest.”

  “I’m sorry, all right! I was distracted.”

  I hit the unlock button and he gets me situated in the passenger seat before loading up his luggage. Pulling up the GPS on my phone, I put in Urgent Care. I don’t think this day could get any worse.

  Famous last words, apparently.

  Poor Savannah. I tried, I really did, not to crack up laughing at the Urgent Care. Never in my life have ever seen someone cry like that. Her sister came in with the doctor, and the second the doctor started poking around, it was like an explosion of tears and curse words. I know it hurts, but damn, you would think someone was cutting off her foot.

  X-rays showed that nothing was broken, and it was just a bad sprain. She’s still sitting in the car, sniffling. Reaching over, I grab her hand. She takes a shuddering breath, and I feel bad for laughing.

  “I’m sorry I laughed. It was just one second you were fine, then boom! You were crying. That poor doctor didn’t know what to think. Then you called him a ball licking bitch, and I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

  “I’m a huge baby when it comes to pain.” I clamp my lips shut. The last thing I want to do it start laughing again.

  “Okay. So, what’s on the schedule next?”

  “My parents are meeting us at my house. They’re bringing dinner over, because I didn’t think you’d want to have dinner at their house, with all the kids running around like lunatics.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “My house is coming up here on the left. It’s the blue one, with the plastic pink flamingos in the yard.”

  “Savannah, why do you have so many plastic flamingos? There has to be at least twenty of them.”

  “I always said that when I got my own house, that I wanted a pink flamingo for my front yard, so when I bought this house, I went and bought one. My sisters think it’s funny, so they randomly come by and put new ones in the yard as a joke. I just never take them out. Sometimes, kids steal them, so their numbers fluctuate.”

  “Give me your keys, and I’ll unlock the door and get you inside, then come back out and get my stuff.”

  Walking up, I shake my head. Some of them have sunglasses glued on. Others have tiny bikinis, and even Speedos. Getting the door unlocked, I go back to the car and get Savannah out. After getting her on the couch, I head back out and get my luggage.

  Back inside, I find she has her suit coat off and her hair up. Foot on the ottoman in front of her, she watches me with a dreamy look on her face. When I first saw her sitting in the airport chair, eyes closed and head back, my brain went to a dangerous place.

  Then she literally fell right into my arms. I prayed she couldn’t feel how hard my dick was. Now here, with privacy, and in the quiet of her house, my mind goes there again. “Where should I put my bags?”

  “The guest bedroom is the first door on your right, down that hallway.” Opening the door, the bedroom is plain, just a bed and dresser. Opening the closet, I put my bag inside. Turning around, I see a box on the bed.

  “Hey, Savannah, what do you want me to do with this box on the bed in here?”

  I can hear her suck in a breath from in here. “Just throw it away. It’s just some stuff I cleared out of the closet. It’s just trash.” Her voice sounds strangled.

  I pick up the box, and as soon I do, it starts…vibrating?

  “Something’s vibrating in this box.”

  “Do not open that box!”

  “I’m just going to open it and turn it off. You sure you want to…” I trail off when I open the top, and inside, the biggest vibrator I have ever seen is vibrating and thrusting into the sides of the box.

  “Shamus, please, tell me you didn’t open the box?”

  “I opened the box, “I reply, lips twitching.

  Dead silence. “That was a gag gift for my twenty-first birthday. Seriously, I wouldn’t buy something like that. I mean, come on, who does that?” She laughs nervously from the other room.

  “I’m just going to turn it off.”

  “Don’t touch it!”

  “Savannah, seriously, we’re adults. It’s no big deal.”

  I walk out to the living room, and there I am with a huge, vibrating, thrusting monstrosity in my hand, just when Savannah’s parents come walking through the front door.

  Now I’m blushing and trying furiously to get the thing to turn off, but there’s a shit ton of buttons. I hit a button and it starts vibrating faster, and fucking hell, it starts spinning around. Savannah gets up off the couch, hopping on one leg, and jerks it out of my hands. She fiddles with it for a minute, and all goes silent when she finally decides to just rip the batteries out.

  “Savannah, I still don’t understand why you spent so much money on that damn thing. I told you drinking too much wine at those Pleasures Parties is a terrible idea,” her mother says matter of fact as she makes her way to the kitchen.

  It’s like all the fight goes out of her and she wilts. Putting my finger under her chin, I bring her teary eyes up to mine. Smiling at her, I take it from her hand and drop it back inside the box. Helping her back to the couch, I go into the kitchen and out to the garage to put the box on the shelf.

  I also take a minute to let the laugh out that I barely managed to hold in.

  Once I get myself back under control, I go back inside. One thing is for sure, there’s never a dull moment around Savannah.

  I’m sitting in my bedroom on my bed with my head in my hands. Why me? Seriously, this is why I’m single. I’m a total space cadet, a klutz. I had a boyfriend call me quirky once. I think that was just a nice way of saying I’m fucking crazy.

  Shamus has been here for less than three hours, and I’ve managed to embarrass myself three times in those three hours. If I could just get through the next however long he’s here without totally turning him off, that would be great. I was comfortable with him in Spartan because I was more relaxed, but now, I feel like I’m on edge. Of course, we’ve chatted on the phone and exchanged text messages since I left, but I still feel nervous.

  My door opens. Looking up, I see my mom come in. She sits next to me and pulls me into a mom hug. More godforsaken tears, the blasted things!

  “Mom, just once, I want to go at least a day without making a total ass out of myself.”

  “It's part of your charm, baby. You just need to find someone who thinks of your quirks as charming and endearing.”

  “Maybe I should move to Spartan with Luke, exile myself to Loony Land.”

  “Well, it’s not a bad idea. You would be closer to Shamus.” She winks at me as she gets up and grabs me some pajama pants and a top.

  I get changed and hobble my broken ass back into the living room. Shamus is there on the couch, with a plate of food for each of us.

  Mom and Dad leave,
and we settle into our food in a comfortable silence. Leaning forward, I grab the pain pills we picked up. They’re just a heavy-duty aspirin. Anything heavier, and I would be loopy as fuck.

  In a surprising move, Shamus scoots me over till I’m squished into his side. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers me up.

  “Shamus?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What are we doing?”

  “We’re sitting on the couch.”

  “I don’t mean literally. I mean, like us, you and me?”

  “For the past month, Savannah, I have missed you like crazy. I got used to you in my house and in my life. These last four weeks have sucked, to be honest. I want this, I want us. It’s good, Savannah, so good, and I need that in my life. I need you.” His mouth comes down and brushes a soft kiss across my lips. “We’ll take it slow, one day at a time. You’re thinking of moving to Spartan, and I want you there so bad, it makes it hard to think sometimes.”

  I grin at him. I can’t help it.

  “I have a lot on my plate right now. Bringing the kids home is going to be hard for me, hard because it’s going to bring up a lot of shit, and learning to be a single dad to two toddlers is going to be a shock. I’ve spent the last four weeks doing a lot of thinking and talking with my counselor. I’ve been attracted to you from the start, everything about you. You’re beautiful on the inside and out. You helped me when no one else would or could. I could fight this and make things weird, but I’m choosing to put myself out there. I thought that when I made the decision to start dating again, it would be the hardest thing ever. When I look at you, and think about letting you in? It gives me a good feeling, a peaceful feeling.”

  He brushes the stray hairs that escaped my bun away.

  “This feels real. So fucking real, it scares me. I’m ready, and at the same time, I’m not. I’m taking a huge fucking risk here. Not a physical risk, but an emotional risk. I want to jump in the deep end. I need one thing in my life to be simple. Being with you? Easiest fucking decision of my life.”