Hail Mary (The Mavericks Series)

by Julianna Marley

  Calling out to the kids on the swing set, Erin rounded them up and Whitney handed the baby off to Finn as they all made their way up the backyard. Following them inside, she looked out again for Shay, but he was nowhere in sight. The house was uncharacteristically quiet as she stood by the back door watching Holly herd the kids into the living room in front of the television with a movie and blankets. Grabbing a dishcloth off the counter, she filled it with ice, balling it up, before grabbing a sweatshirt off the coat hanger. Making her way out the back door she walked in the direction she had seen Shay leave. Stopping in front of a large shed the size of a small apartment, she peeked inside, but nothing. Walking through the giant garage, three cars filling the space, along with bikes and tricycles littering the sides, he wasn’t in there either. Circling to the front of the house she saw him on the front step, leaning on one leg, the other foot planted on the ground. He looked like a mess.

  A cold mess.

  Staring out, he was focused and unmoving and she remembered that look. She had seen it in the hospital room the day he had stood beside her. Clenching the sweater closer to her chest, she didn’t know what to say to him. There was clearly deep seeded issues between him and Rory, but what could have happened that things could get this bad? Her grandmaw would have scolded her for getting into people’s private business, but Shay wasn’t just anybody. He was the man who had helped her when she needed it the most, the man who made sure she and her daughter had a decent place to spend the holiday and she couldn’t help but want to help him now too. Inching closer, the heels of her boots chipped on the cement and he looked up at her before looking away again. His head dropping a fraction, he stared back down at the ground.

  “Here,” she said gently, handing him the hoodie and he watched her again. His eyes were so blue, but fierce. His face was a mess, the dirt from the ground and the blood drying on the side of his mouth, mixed with two-day old scruff that she couldn’t help but notice every time he walked into the room. Taking it from her after another minute, he slipped the Notre Dame hoodie over his head running his hands through his short hair as if it mattered. Sitting down beside him on the step she looked out at the same scene, the long driveway bordered with trees, the front yard almost as gorgeous as the backyard. She had learned in her short time here that he made sure his family had this magnificent house. Made sure his parents were well taken care of and had a home where they all could gather. To be together.

  “Let me see,” she whispered, hesitating before pulling his jaw gently towards her to examine the damage. Well Rory could really pack a punch, she’d give him that and she made a note to ignore how much she cared about seeing his perfect face swollen. Not looking at her, he stared past her as she raised the ice bag to his face before he tried to conceal a hiss. Molding her palm around his cheek, she held the ice bag in place, feeling the tension inside his body. “So Rory is the reason you haven’t been home?”

  Looking at her finally, she sucked in a small breath, one she hoped he hadn’t caught. And for the first time she got a really good look at him. He made her nervous, confused the stuffin’ out of her, was as arrogant as they came and looked like sex on two legs, yet somehow she felt as if she was seeing the real Shay Cunningham. The one buried down inside nearly threatening to come out. And she didn’t have a clue what to do with that. His face hardening, she could feel him grinding his teeth. He looked like a ticking time bomb and she readjusted the ice. She didn’t remove her hands and he didn’t offer to take the bag so she stayed put, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m sure if y’all just discuss this then it will be fine and you’ll see how silly thi-”

  “-Whitney,” he snapped. “Don’t.”

  “Well, I just think if y’all-”

  “Don’t just think,” he ordered, pushing her hands away, the ice falling onto the step. His face turning colder he shook his head. “Not everything can be fixed with sweet tea and insecure apologies, alright.”

  Flinching at the nasty quip, she watched him stand up and walk down the rest of the steps. She didn’t know why she wanted to help him fix things with his brother, only that it broke her heart seeing him try so hard to pretend that it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t bothering him. “Maybe not, but your parents are good people and-”

  “-Leave it alone, Sunshine,” he shook his head, a rare Irish edge in his voice. “Just go on using my family to live out some fake holiday bliss.”

  Closing her eyes against his second dig she wondered if she really had been that obvious. That he could see that she was in fact, enjoying being a part of a family. Part of a home. Being accepted. Even if it was only temporary.

  “All you need to know,” he said, digging his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie, “is that I’m a selfish prick.”

  Watching him head towards the side of the house, she shot up. “You are not selfish, Shay.”

  Stopping, he looked over his shoulder as her heart hammered inside her chest. Shay Cunningham was a lot of things. An arrogant, talented, sexy, smooth talking son of a gun, but one thing he was not, was selfish.

  “You don’t know me, Whitney,” he scoffed, shaking his head as if she was wasting his time.

  “Maybe so, but a selfish man wouldn’t have picked me up off a cement floor and broke traffic laws just to get me to a hospital. A selfish man wouldn’t have stayed and held my hand during the scariest moment of my entire life. And he wouldn’t have stayed and waited with me before slipping out when he thought nobody would notice.”

  She had noticed though. And she had wanted to cry out and beg him to stay. To feel the comfort in his presence and the odd security she felt around him, letting her know that it was all going to be okay. That she was strong enough to get through it all. Walking down the steps not taking her eyes off him, she had a sense he had never heard those words before.

  Good.

  Because he needed to hear them.

  “And a selfish man wouldn’t have cared that me and ma’ baby had nowhere to spend the holiday.”

  Why are there so many forks?

  There were very few things in life that Shay’s mother’s cooking couldn’t fix, but a brawl with his brother, ending in a bruised jaw, making it difficult to chew dinner and ruining Nicky’s first football game was one of them. Taking a sip of water, he looked across the table at Rory glaring, chewing past his fat lip.

  Pushing some food around on his plate the mood at the table was somber. Quiet. A foreign concept to his family. Even the kids seemed quiet despite them occupying more than half of the table. He didn’t have to look up to see the disappointment in his pop’s eyes either. Whether for their brawl or just towards him for not knowing about his surgery, he wasn’t sure, but his mother was looking for any excuse to leave the table to serve more food. Chatting a little about the arrival of the new baby, Cian and Erin mentioned how Cassidy and Kieran were arguing over who their new baby sister was going to share a room with. Finn and Holly brought up Caleb winning the spelling bee at school and he grinned chewing on his food. He had been the spelling bee champ all through school. Eight small certificates downstairs on his pop’s wall to prove it, too. It was pretty cool seeing similar qualities in his nieces and nephews, wondering why he hadn’t known about any of this stuff. Hadn’t known about his pop’s surgery, Caleb winning the spelling bee or that the roughest boy in the family wanted his new baby sister to crash in his room.

  Because he was an asshole.

  That’s why.

  Stabbing a piece of turkey, he mulled it inside his mouth glancing sideways at Whitney next to him. A napkin draped perfectly across her lap, she sat straight chewing her food silently. She looked so proper. So formal. She was too sophisticated and moved around with such ease that he had the urge to just ruffle her up a bit. And oh, the ways he’d ruffle that woman up. Groaning to himself he shoved more food in his mouth and she glanced over at him, her brown eyes inquiring. Shit, he needed to get the hell out of here. Get back to Charleston where things made s
ense. Where he had a purpose. Where people needed him. Being home and watching little Miss Fancy Pants serve homemade bread and pastry with his mother was too much. She had nearly knocked him on his ass earlier when she defended him against…himself? She didn’t know him. He was selfish. But it was alright because looking around the table at his family, maybe it was easier for him to be the asshole. The one living out his dream, sending home money and building houses when they needed it. Over the past five years it seemed that all he had ever done by being home was cause more problems.

  Clearing her throat, his mother looked beside her. “Whitney, dear, in all the excitement I never asked you, how do you occupy your days?”

  “Oh,” Whitney said quietly, wiping the side of her mouth. And what a mouth it was. He had never seen lips like that on a woman. At least not naturally. Wide and full, framing that incredibly sweet smile of hers. Shoving potatoes in his mouth, he refocused on his plate and not on all the ways he would take full advantage of that mouth. “I’m a wedding and special events coordinator.”

  Siobhan’s gasp circled around the table before she dropped her fork against her plate, making everyone jump. Looking across the table, her head started bobbing. “No way!”

  Wiping her mouth, Siobhan looked like she was going to burst. Was his brother seriously going to marry this broad? First off, she looked like a clown, her head shaking and face turning red. His brother may be his least favorite person at the moment, but he could do a hell of a lot better in a life partner. Much better. The Rory he used to know would never put up with her animation and incessant talking. He would have had his fun with her at the top of Arrow Hill and called it a day. But then again, the Rory he knew had been gone for a long time. “I have been on Rory’s case for months about hiring a wedding planner,” Siobhan said, grasping Rory’s arm as he took a pull of his beer.

  “Ha!” Shay laughed, pointing his fork at Rory. “Darlin’ you’re marrying the cheapest bastard on the planet.”

  “Language,” Whitney said under her breath.

  Bastard? What the hell was wrong with bastard?

  “Please, you have to hear all of my ideas. I even brought my inspiration binder,” Siobhan squealed.

  “Oh goody, her inspiration binder,” Shay mocked and Rory flipped him the bird.

  “In fact, I’ll go get it now.”

  Siobhan didn’t wait for a response before taking off from the table as if she was going to find her happily ever after inside that binder. Smiling softly, Whitney continued her meal quietly before Siobhan ran back nearly pushing Holly out of her seat. Pleading to switch seats before Holly picked up her plate to move places, Siobhan lunged at Whitney, throwing a crapload of colors and magazine clippings at her. Resting his arm on the back on Whitney’s chair, he looked over the binder feigning excitement. Colorful pieces of fabric were tossed around and discussed.

  “Looks like she’s going to have her very own lucky charm waiting at the end of the rainbow, big brother,” he mocked agreeing with Siobhan as she went on and on about various bull crap and looking at a white tuxedo with a colorful pocket square.

  “Enough,” his father warned, shoving a roll into his mouth.

  Tapping his leg, Whitney hushed him and he fought the urge to grab that small hand and hold onto it.

  And he hated that.

  It would never work between them for so many reasons and he watched as she pushed her plate aside, making more room for Siobhan’s binder. The poor woman had barely had a chance to eat before surveying the pictures Siobhan pushed in her face of things he had never even heard of before. He wanted to tell Siobhan to take a hike. Whitney had been in the kitchen preparing a meal all day and barely had the opportunity to touch any food. But he was learning quickly that she was too sweet. Too kind. And the way her face lit up at a gown Siobhan had shown her, she was too damn gorgeous as well.

  A loud pound on the door jolting her awake, Whitney lifted her head quickly from being face down into a pile of pillows. Looking around the room, she pushed a sea of hair out of her face before peeking on Quinn still fast asleep as another pound sounded. Peeling herself out of bed she adjusted her eyes, stumbling around the side of the bed.

  What time is it?

  She was so tired. Siobhan had her up late ironing out more plans and trying to find a direction for her and Rory’s quickly approaching nuptials. The plans were a mess and every time she thought they were getting somewhere, Siobhan would run off in another direction. It was like Mrs. Banks all over again. Opening the door, Shay leaned against the doorframe fully dressed. Why did this man have to look like Prince Charming all the gosh darn time? It was actually becoming annoying. His eyes drifting up her body, she grabbed her nightgown covering her chest. A smirk playing at the corners of his mouth he pushed off the door. “Get dressed, Sunshine.”

  Managing to tame her unruly hair, Whitney dug out a pair of jeans, throwing on a sweater before getting her sweet baby girl dressed. Walking down the steps quietly, the house was silent and she looked out at the wall of windows, seeing it was still dark.

  What in the world?

  “Take long enough, Miss America?” Shay asked, handing her a cup, a black jacket hugging his hard, lean body. Rubbing Quinn’s head, he thumbed her cheek and she giggled before letting out a yawn. “You can’t wear those shoes where we’re headed,” he stated, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “And where exactly would that be?”

  Without a word he walked towards the back of the house and she followed him through the mud room. “Here these look about your size.” He handed her a pair of boots from a pile of shoes scattered by the garage door, taking Quinn from her arms.

  “Shay,” she huffed, shucking off her cowboy boots and slipping her feet into hard mountain ankle boots while he made faces at Quinn. “Where are we going?”

  Again, without a word he led them through the garage, lifting the door before grabbing a bag. “Let’s go.”

  There were very few things that had ever taken Whitney’s breath away. The few she could recall were seeing Quinn for the first time, the finished product after designing her very first wedding and the look in Shay’s eyes encouraging her when she was about to give birth. Pushing the last thought aside, she hiked Quinn higher on her hip as Shay helped her over a rock. Looking out as the sun began to rise behind the expanse of giant trees decorated in oranges and reds, she sighed. Mountains and hilltops weren’t familiar territory. She was a country girl. Swamps, bayous and fields, now those, those were her things. But she had to admit, this was exceptional.

  “Just a few more feet.” Shay nodded towards another rock. Following him, she tried to ignore the push and pull of his jeans sculpting his behind with every large measured step he took. He always reminded her of some pretty boy model, but seeing him climb rocks, push branches out of the way for them while navigating around trees and dirt paths that all looked the same, the man was something to be admired. Shay Cunningham was kind of rugged. Who knew? Although as the weekend drew on she realized there was a lot about him that she didn’t know. Ducking under a bushel of trees that Shay held back with his body, the sound of rushing water grew louder while she steadied herself on a rock. Looking over the most beautiful view she had ever seen, groups of trees went back as far as the eye could see as a large body of water divided the expanses. An overwhelmingly large bridge connected the two pieces of land and she saw more orange from the early morning sun peek out above the trees. Beneath her feet, a waterfall fell, both calm and easy.

  “Shay,” she inhaled, looking at him quickly as he took in the same scene. The sunrise highlighting the sharp, narrow planes of his face and nose, his eyes were crystal blue and he seemed relaxed for the first time since his fight with Rory.

  “This is my favorite spot,” he muttered, hitching a foot up on a rock, his eyes never moving. Pulling off the backpack he had been carrying the entire trip up to wherever they were, he handed a bottle of milk to her. Biting her lip to keep from smiling, she took
it. She had to say, she was impressed. Gently slipping the bottle into Quinn’s mouth, she attacked the gosh darn thing immediately. Laying a blue blanket down on the uneven grass patches, he nodded for her to sit and she did what she was told. Getting comfortable, he dug out two bags. One that had a piece of her banana bread and the other a muffin. Holding out both options for her, she propped Quinn’s bottle against her, taking the muffin as he smiled. “I was hoping you’d let me have the bread.”

  “Oh you like that, huh?”

  “Shit should be illegal,” he smirked looking back at her.

  Raising her brow, he nodded, chewing slower. “Sorry.” Taking another bite, he looked out as the first ray of light began to shine, nearly blinding them for a moment. “I think my family likes you better than me.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed smiling down at Quinn. “I was afraid that was going to happen.”

  Laughing past a mouthful of bread, he took a sip of water. “I just figured I’d get you out of the house before Siobhan had a chance to attack you again.”