Shana Mine

by Marilyn Lee

  He closed and locked the door and set the alarm before meeting my gaze. “You heard me. Can you?”

  I looked around the foyer. I loved the textured floors and the pleasing cream-colored paint. The centerpiece of the foyer was the wide staircase that wound at the top and opened up onto an interior second floor balcony. Each room was tastefully furnished. There were a few things I might change but nothing major.

  It seemed like a solid, well-built brick house that had been thoroughly modernized. I shrugged. “It’s a very nice house. Who updated and decorated it?”

  “I bought it at auction five years ago. It was a wreck and had to be completely gutted.”

  “That must have been a lot of work.”

  “It was but I didn’t do it alone. I had two mentors. One of them, along with his brothers, and my father helped me completely gut it and rehab it.”

  “You did a great job.”

  “One of my mentors is a very skillful carpenter. He took me on as an apprentice and taught me nearly everything I know and encouraged and helped me to start my own business—even sending clients my way he could have kept for himself.”

  “He sounds like a great guy.”

  “Both of them are. I’ll introduce you to them one day.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. So who decorated it?”

  “My mother decorated.”

  “She has great taste.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Now are you going to answer my question?”

  “No.”

  To my surprise, he arched a brow but didn’t pressure me for an answer.

  After a swim, we undressed and slipped into bed. I was surprised and disappointed when he showed no inclination to make love to me.

  He held me all night and woke me early the next morning. “I need you,” he whispered, rubbing his erect cock against my thigh.

  “Bathroom break,” I said.

  He reluctantly rolled off me.

  When I returned to the bedroom, he sat on one of the chairs by the window with a condom on.

  I tossed off the robe I wore and crossed the room to him. Smiling, I placed my hands on his shoulders and rubbed my slit against his cock.

  He reached up to squeeze and caress my bare breasts. “Ride me, sweet.”

  I leaned forward to touch my lips to his forehead. “Which entrance, Taylor?”

  “Your sweet pussy.”

  I sighed in relief and reaching down to part my slit, I pressed it against his cockhead.

  Gripping my hips, he pulled them down slowly.

  Tightening my hands on his shoulders, I closed my eyes. I enjoyed every second of feeling his hard length pushing up into me until I sat with my ass on his lap savoring the joy of having him buried deep inside me again.

  I thought he wanted to fuck, but his gentleness and tenderness as he caressed and kissed me filled with me wonder that I could invoke such deep emotion in him so quickly. When he whispered to me in his native tongue, I lapped up each word—even though I still couldn’t understand a word he said.

  I sat on his lap with my cheek pressed against his neck after we’d both come. By six that night, I’d be on a plane—leaving him and my heart behind—unless I tossed Jasmin under the bus by starting a long distance relationship with Taylor.

  But even if I decided to put desire above friendship, what were the chances he and I would fare any better than he and Jasmin had? Like her, I was nearly ten years older than him. Like her, I lived and worked on the opposite coast from him. Unlike her, I had two kids who would probably think I’d lost my mind thinking I could keep his interest for any extended length of time. And unlike Jasmin, I’d be devastated if he lost interest in me.

  I lifted my head to look at him, the muscles of my throat tight. “I’m going to miss you so much, Taylor.”

  He caressed my back and shoulders. “You won’t if you stay here with me until I can accompany you home in a few weeks when I’ve handled my work commitments. “

  That would only make the eventual breakup harder. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I peeled myself off his cock and rose. “I think I’m always going to remember this week with you as the sweetest of my life.”

  He stood up and caught my hand as I turned away. “But?”

  “But I did what I came to do and now it’s time for me to go home.” Before I fall hopelessly in love with you.

  “Your kids are nearly adults and living on their own . If you go home without me, what are you going home to?”

  I stared at him. “Did it ever occur to you that you just might be overestimating the effect you have on me?”

  “No,” he said coolly. “That thought never occurred to me. Why should it when we both know it’s not true?”

  “It’s a bit much for you to imagine that unless I have you in my life, it’ll be emotionally or romantically empty. We had a fling.”

  “Oh fuck, Shana. Don’t you go there. You know damned well this isn’t just a fling for you any more than it is for me.”

  Staring into his angry gaze, I couldn’t deny the truthfulness of his words. “Jasmin probably wants you back,” I said.

  “I don’t want her or anyone but you, Shana.”

  “She’s my best friend.”

  “And?”

  “And I think she wants you back.”

  “That’s too damned bad, isn’t it? I told her it was over when we spoke on the phone. But we both know she already knew that.”

  “That’s all well and good for you but what am I supposed to do? Pretend I don’t know and won’t be betraying her if I ignore how she feels?”

  He cupped a hand over my cheek. “Oh, sweet. All she and I shared was sex. We both know there’s far more than that going on between us. Yes?”

  I nodded. While I knew I did and suspected he felt more as well, I wasn’t willing to risk my life-long friendship on the very slim chance that we could build a meaningful relationship despite our various differences.

  “Stay.”

  Saying no to him was nearly impossible but necessary. “You make me feel the world is full of new and exciting possibilities, but if what we think we feel is real—it can withstand a separation. In fact, we’re both old enough to know how necessary one is at this point.”

  He sighed. “Okay. You’re right. How do you want to spend the rest of the day?”

  “Alone with you.”

  He smiled. “That’s how I’d like to spend the rest of my life.”

  “Oh, Taylor.”

  He shrugged. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then I need to fill up my tank. Can I get you anything while I’m out?”

  “Just come back as soon as possible.”

  He kissed me and whispered something against my lips before he turned away.

  I snatched at his hand. “What did you say?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing you’d be inclined to believe at this point and maybe you shouldn’t. Hell, I’m feeling it and I don’t know if I believe it.”

  While he was gone, I showered and carried my suitcase and carry-on shoulder travel bag downstairs. Then I went out to lay in one of the chaise lounges by the pool.

  He returned with several sandwiches and a salad.

  I nibbled at the sandwich and picked at the salad.

  “I’m not hungry either,” he said. “Let’s go inside and cuddle until it’s time to drive you to the airport.”

  I nodded.

  In his living room, we shared his reclining loveseat.

  Despite the countless questions I wanted answers to, I lay silent within his arms.

  My cell phone rang. I recognized Jasmin’s ring. I sighed and then rose to walk across the room to pick up my shoulder bag from the coffee table. I removed my phone and answered it. “Hi.”

  “Well, it’s about time. Didn’t you get my message? Where are you?”

  I turned to look at Taylor who sat staring at me. “I’m with Taylor.”

  “Really? Did you
have a good time with him?”

  “Oh lord yes.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that, Shana. I did tell you I wanted him back. Didn’t I?”

  “Yes and I told him you did.”

  “And he said?”

  “He…ah…” I looked at Taylor and held out the phone. “It’s Jasmin.”

  He rose and quickly crossed the room to take the phone from me. “Jasmin. I was just telling Shana that our causal relationship was over with no hope of a resurrection…trust me. It’s over…I’m sorry but I don’t share that desire…we were both drunk when that happened…it’s over. Here’s Shana…how I feel about her is none of your business.”

  He held the phone out to me. “I don’t care what she says, it’s over between us, Shana.” Walking back across the room, he sat on the loveseat.

  I sighed and put the phone back to my ear. “Jasmin?”

  “What the hell have you done, Shana? I told you I wanted him back!”

  “I know and…I know.”

  “Have you been staying with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “At his house.”

  “Oh Shana. How could you? How could you?”

  Before I could answer she ended the call.

  I closed my eyes and pressed a hand over my mouth. Oh fuck. What now?

  “Shana?”

  I opened my eyes and stared at him. “She thinks I betrayed her.”

  He rose and extended his hand.

  I shook my head. “I need some time alone.”

  He crossed the room but didn’t touch me. “Oh come on, Shana. Don’t let this ruin the few remaining hours we have together.”

  “You can’t expect me to go on as if nothing’s changed.”

  He sighed and walked back to the loveseat. “Oh fuck! I wish I’d never met the silly bitch!”

  I rushed across the room to stare down at him. “Don’t you call her a bitch just because you can’t have your way!”

  “I called her a bitch because that’s what she is! She doesn’t want me and I don’t want her but damned if she’ll allow that little fact to stop her from trying to have her cake and eat it too! Even if she’s successful in making you feel so guilty you destroy our relationship, I wouldn’t take her back into my life for a million bucks!”

  “She’s my best friend and she’s nothing like you’re trying to paint her.”

  “The hell she isn’t.”

  We were both too angry to continue a conversation I feared would escalate out of control. “Please take me to the airport.”

  “It’s too early.”

  “I’ll wait there.”

  “If you think I’m prepared to beg, think again. If you’re ready to go, I’ll drive you to the airport now.”

  Talk about a rock and a hard place. No matter which choice I made one of them would be hurt and angry. I sighed. “I’m ready now.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Shana—”

  “Please, Taylor. We had a great week but it’s time for me to return to reality.”

  “Fuck you!” He stormed from the room. I heard the front door open and reluctantly followed him out the house in time to see him putting my luggage into the trunk of his car.

  As I approached, he silently held the passenger door open.

  I got in and ninety minutes later, I sat alone in the airport, struggling to keep from crying as he stalked away from me.

  Oh, Taylor. Please don’t walk away in anger.

  Almost as if he’d sensed my anguish, he suddenly turned and quickly walked back towards me.

  My heart raced with joy and hope.

  He leaned down to speak to me—in Tsalagi.

  I turned my head to meet his angry gaze. “You know I don’t know what you’re saying, Taylor.”

  “I said I’ve never had to beg a woman and I’m not going to start with you. If you’re not interested in being my woman, I’ll find someone who is. But I can promise you it won’t be that manipulative bitch you choose to call a friend!”

  “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  He reached in his pocket and pushed a business card in my hand. “If you come to your senses, you know where I live and can reach me at one of these numbers.”

  “I’m not fond of men who think it’s all right to call a woman a bitch!” I looked at the card long enough to memorize his cell phone number and to realize that he was a licensed general contractor before I crushed the card in my hand and threw it at him.

  He caught it and jammed it in his pant pocket. “Are you sure you what it to end this way?”

  “I’m sure I don’t like your tendency to call my best friend a bitch!”

  “Fine. Have a good life, Shana.”

  I sucked in a breath as a tear rolled down my cheek. “Taylor…”

  His gaze softened and for one sweet moment, I thought he would draw me into his arms and make everything all right. Instead, he swore, straightened, and walked away.

  Taylor. Oh, Taylor.

  Chapter six

  Tears ran down my cheeks for most of the flight back to San Francisco. I was dismayed to find my son waiting at the airport when I arrived.

  I turned away and tried to wipe my cheeks but he must have seen my tears because he rushed forward and put an arm around my shoulders. “Mom! What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I just…nothing.”

  He got my luggage and led me to his car. After we were seated, he turned to look at me. “Do I need to go to Philadelphia and kick some guy’s butt?”

  I shook my head. “No. I had an…interlude and I guess I’m a little sad it’s over, but I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure, Mom?”

  The one thing I was sure of is that it would take a long time to get over Taylor and I wasn’t going to drag my son into my romantic mess. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “He didn’t hurt you. Did he?”

  Physically? No. Emotionally? Big time. I squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, Jimmy.”

  “You’re in tears. How can I not worry, Mom?”

  I sighed. “You know I sometimes get emotional. There’s no reason for you to worry.”

  He sighed. “I don’t have any plans for tonight. Let’s go out to dinner.”

  I wanted to go home, undress, and then spend hours in a warm bath with a drink—sobbing until I couldn’t cry anymore. But I knew Jimmy wanted to feel that he was there for me when I needed someone.

  I forced myself to smile. “Who’s paying?”

  “You are, of course, Mrs. Successful Businesswoman,” he said, laughing.

  I laughed too. “I should have known.”

  He took me home for a quick shower and then we headed down to my favorite restaurant at Fisherman’s Wharf. Jassy was there when we arrived.

  I turned to look at Jimmy.

  He shrugged. “I thought you might need us both with you tonight.”

  Touched, I hugged and kissed them both.

  That night with my kids was one of the most special in my life. I teared up a little, laughed a lot, and felt as if I were in a cocoon of love and affection. It was only as I lay in bed sleepless that night that I realized they must have both turned off their phones so I’d have their complete attention.

  Hugging that realization close, I fell asleep without tears. The next morning when I turned the ringer on my cellphone back on, I found Jasmin had left several messages. Hurt and angry by our last conversation and her implication that I’d betrayed her, I ignored them.

  There were no messages from Taylor. But then I hadn’t expected any. I felt certain he was a man of his word and it was over between us—unless I made the first move to change that.

  Recalling his unwillingness to bend and his insistence that he had no intentions of making an exception for me, I knew all his hints about falling in love with me had been nothing more than him allowing his cock to do his thinking and talking. If a man wouldn’t make an exception for the woman he loved, who w
ould he make them for other than his sons?

  While he clearly didn’t love me, I knew I’d made the monumental mistake of falling in love with him. Although I ached to be with him, I couldn’t see the point of being in a one-sided relationship. It was not going to be easy, but I had to move forward with my life. That meant giving myself a week or two to wallow in regret, and then I’d start dating again.

  * * *

  Walking away from Shana was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I left the airport feeling as if I’d been gutted and my heart shredded beyond repair. Telling myself that it was ridiculous to feel such emotions for a woman I’d known for less than a week didn’t help.

  I’d never been in love before and generally got most of the women I went after. Only Lisa and Jasmin had dumped me. Neither rejection had hurt. Losing Shana definitely hurt like hell.

  After two weeks of sleepless nights and picking up the phone to call her nearly every hour, I knew I needed to talk to someone about her. I didn’t want to burden my father who had finally reached a point where he’d accepted my mother’s death and was ready to start dating again.

  I’d spent the last five years building my business and spending as much time with my sons as possible. My friendships had suffered and I’d lost track with most of the men I’d considered friends.

  That left the two men who had mentored me, Kristopher Macarik, whose foundation had covered most of the cost of my two years of trade school and Jayven Redwolf, the master carpenter who had taken me under his wing and taught me far more than I’d ever have learned from a trade school alone.

  Jayvyn was newly married. While I felt certain he’d make time to listen, he’d probably tell me to fly to San Francisco and insist she return to Philly with me—whether she wanted to or not.

  Kristopher was involved in a long-standing and complex relationship that didn’t exactly make him an expert on how to land that one special woman. But his advice was less likely to land me in trouble with the law if I followed it than Jayvyn’s was.

  So I called Kristopher.

  “I’m having a weekend bender tonight. Pack an overnight bag and we’ll find time to talk during the weekend,” he said.

  I hadn’t been to one of his rowdy, weekend fuck-a-thons in over two years since I’d decided it was time to start setting a better example for my sons. “Thanks, but I’m really not in the partying mood.”