The Apple of His Eye

by Stacy Dawn

  “Wow, I didn't know Brad was getting married. When's the big event?” She craned her neck, searching the room. “I haven't seen him in years. Where is he?”

  “He's, uh, not here.” She cleared her throat. “He had to work.”

  “Oh. That's too bad.”

  For the first time, Eden wished Brad wasn't working and had come with them. Uncomfortable under Alice's awkward scrutiny, she would have liked another familiar face, or at least a hand to hold. Then again, Brad wasn't much into the hand holding/comforting touch thing like Shane and his family.

  As if proving her point, Shane appeared, handing her a wine glass and giving her knee an encouraging squeeze as he sat beside her.

  Attention that was becoming a little too easy to get used to.

  “Do you want to color with me?” one of the young girls asked.

  Thankful for the distraction, Eden scooted forward in her seat. “I'd love to.”

  Obviously, it was the right answer for it catapulted her from unknown guest to cherished friend of the family in a matter of minutes. One page turned into three while the girls chatted about everything from their family pet rabbit, Freckles, to their brother's disgusting eating habits. Alice kept up the adult conversation by discussing work, the local school system, and a fundraiser she was working on for the new hospital.

  Eventually, even two of the other boys vied for Eden’s attention to play a card game. Somewhere between Go Fish and Checkers, Marilyn—the cameo prominently displayed on her lapel—also sat next to her for a chat.

  Eden couldn't remember the last time, if ever, she'd been included in such wonderful chaos.

  Chapter Five

  After managing to excuse herself to the powder room for a few minutes, Eden stopped by the kitchen, intent on offering assistance to Marilyn. A bright apple décor greeted her along with another surprise—her hostess wasn't alone.

  Snuggled up behind the older woman, Shane's father nuzzled his wife's neck and dipped a finger in the saucepot.

  Marilyn slapped his hand. “Stop that, you old tease.”

  “The kissing or the scooping.”

  “The scooping, of course,” she tittered in a girlish giggle.

  Eden felt like she was spying on a couple of newly enamored teenagers. Yet, gauging by Shane and his sibling's ages, they would have been married for decades. Their behavior didn't make sense. Confusion mounted as she discreetly observed his parents’ playful banter.

  Hadn't she just told Shane this afternoon that people didn't really act like that? Yes, and what had he done? Called her cynical and laughed. Laughed because he thought I was cynical, or laughed because he simply knew a different truth?

  She slunk away from the kitchen, stopping at the door to the animated family room. In the far corner, Shane's youngest sister held hands with her boyfriend as they played a game of checkers. Over on the couch, Alice sat on Steve's lap, grinning widely at something her husband whispered in her ear.

  Opposite them all alone in a recliner, Shane's older sister held a teething baby. For a moment, Eden felt relieved that not all the Gallagher’s were quashing her beliefs. Until she caught the poignant gaze the woman sent her husband across the room. Almost as though she called to him in a language only they knew, and which lured him smiling to her side in an instant.

  If this weren't enough, there were the children. Happy, healthy, playful children who weren't delegated to their bedrooms to study, but allowed to interact and learn from the affectionate actions of their parents and extended family.

  Eden blew out a breath. Her world was so quiet and boring in comparison to the Gallagher world. A thick knot clenched in her chest at another single, solitary word whispering in her brain.

  Lonely.

  Not for long, she reprimanded herself. Once she married Brad tomorrow, she wouldn't be lonely anymore. Maybe she'd even bring up the subject of having children someday. Resting her head against the doorframe, a smile tugged at her lips while watching Shane roughhouse on the floor with his nephews. But when she tried to picture Brad in the same spot on the floor, the image wouldn't come.

  At that moment, Shane raised his gaze. A wealth of understanding filled his smile, and the whole world disappeared. All her fears, all her loneliness gone with a simple beckoning of his hand.

  Without a second thought, she went to him.

  A few minutes later, his brother filled the doorway she'd just vacated. “Hey, everyone! Mom says supper's going to be at least another hour. Anyone up for a game of hockey?”

  The room burst into a frenzy around Eden with the older children clamoring out of the room, followed by a number of the adults.

  “Where are they all going?” she asked when, instead of rising, Shane grabbed a deck of cards from the coffee table.

  “Out in the back yard. Dad builds an ice rink every year.”

  A face appeared over Eden's shoulder. “Come on, Shane, they need your speed,” Alice insisted with a challenging grin. She turned her excitement to Eden. “Up for a game? There's always extra skates in this house.”

  Shane's hand stayed her. “You don't have to. We can stay in. I don't mind.”

  No hint of obligation or regret laced his handsome eyes. Simply honesty and contentment she envied. He’d stay with her just because.

  Her heart did a hardy flip. Eden sucked in a breath and chalked up the odd sensation to the excited racket coming from the adjoining mudroom. She grinned. “What if I want to?” And she really did. For all the new understanding Shane had given her today, she wanted to give back a little something.

  I only hope what they say about riding a bike is true for skating, too.

  Chapter Six

  “You don't have to do this.”

  “You're starting to sound like a broken record there, cowboy.”

  Shane didn't care. He held firm to Eden's arm, balancing her as they made their way to the homemade ice rink in the backyard.

  “I'll be fine. Honest.”

  Even though a grin sparkled in her bright blue eyes, her earlier trepidation when he mentioned skating at Rockefeller Center concerned him. Added to the fact she wore an old pair of boy’s hockey skates instead of a better fitting lady's skate. He planned to stick close—very close. How would he explain returning a bruised and battered fiancée back to Brad?

  The bruised and battered part definitely wasn't pleasant—but neither was the returning part. Not a thought he was willing to dwell on at the moment, especially when he had more important things to take care of.

  Shane stepped onto the ice first. There wasn't a winter day in his childhood memories and beyond that didn't have half the neighborhood out here skating at the homemade 'Gallagher rink'. All his siblings, sisters included, grew up in various hockey leagues.

  Holding Eden securely, he stepped over the short rim. “Okay, watch your step here. Hold onto my arm and whoa—” He grabbed for Eden as one of her skates stuck and the other slid out from under her.

  Keeping his own balance was a chore as they danced a farcical pirouette. Full gales of her laughter bounced off the glass surface, crashing like a body check into his chest and effectively toppling him onto the ice. Shane ended up on his back with Eden clasped atop his chest.

  The tip of her tongue darted out to wet rose-colored lips. “Sorry. I caught my toe on the rim.”

  Her infectious giggles fanned his face as the sky blue gaze sparkled down at him. Wet cold seeping into his back slowly brought him back to reality. The reality that this beautiful woman atop him was already taken. Taken by his best friend.

  For the only time he could remember, Shane was honestly jealous of Brad.

  This was a bad idea all around.

  Carefully, he disentangled himself and got them to their feet. “Look, we should go back inside.” Where he could put a table, or better yet, a whole room between them for safety. His or hers, he couldn't be sure.

  “No, please,” she begged, the grin still wide on her face. “I've got it now. See.�
� She let go of his arm and stood alone.

  Shane kept his hands at the ready even though her balance seemed much better. In fact, she looked remarkably stable and relaxed.

  Eden's gaze danced to the others practicing their slap shots. “Do you have a stick I could use?”

  “Whoa there, Crosbie,” Shane chuckled. “Let's get you skating first before you try your hand at a stick.”

  “What? You mean like this?”

  He grasped at empty air when she suddenly pushed away to slide smoothly backward. A mischievous glitter twinkled up to him as she swayed her hips, propelling herself faster. Before he could say her name, Eden skidded to a stop and returned to him all in one fluid movement, ending with a small spray of ice shavings over his own skates.

  Why that little... Crossing his arms over his chest, he narrowed his gaze. “I thought you said you can't skate?”

  “Can't skate…can't skate? Nope, I don't recall actually saying those words,” she mimicked. Eden zipped around him in a circle, her laughter trailing after her like fairy dust. “I believe what I said was 'it'd been a while'. Years in fact. Guess it is like riding a bike after all, huh?”

  When she stopped, Shane took his turn, unable to stop himself from assessing the snug jeans under the ski-bunny attire as he slowly circled her. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve, Ms. Rossi?”

  “Wouldn't be much fun if I told you all my secrets, now would it?”

  He slid off to the far side and retrieved two hockey sticks. “All right, Red. Let's see what you got.”

  ****

  “You owe me.”

  Shane butted his shoulder gently against Eden where they sat side by side removing their skates in the mudroom. The chill evening air and exertion lent a shiny, apple-red glow to her cheeks.

  She grinned, eyes wide and errantly innocent. “Owe you what?”

  “An explanation, for starters.”

  She laughed until her breath came in short pants.

  He held his jaw tight against his body's intense reaction.

  “You know,” she sighed, flopping back against the wall. “I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard or had so much fun.” She rolled her head toward him. “Thank you.”

  Unable to take his gaze away from the silver specks picking up the moon's rays beaming through the window, Shane fought his tight lungs for words. “You're welcome.” When air filled them again, he reached for the safe topic they'd been on. “Tell me how a straight-laced financial consultant kicked my ass at backyard hockey.”

  “My dad.” She bent forward and pulled a skate from her foot. “He's a junior league hockey coach. Taught me everything I know.”

  “Ahh. Then you were just playing me this afternoon in the city.”

  “No I wasn't.” Slim brows drew down. “It's just...” She crossed the cement floor to put her skates back in a cubicle square. “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

  Shane followed, placing a hand on her slumped shoulder. “Try me.”

  Eden dropped her head back against the wooden structure and closed her eyes. “Honestly, I meant it this afternoon. I hadn't skated in years. Forgot all about it in fact.” The crease of her brows grew deeper. “Actually, I'd forgotten a lot of things until today.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like family.” She opened her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. “It's funny what you can see in hindsight. After my mom died, Dad was so worried about making sure I graduated and made something of myself that he wouldn't let me help him out at the rink anymore.” She gave a derisive snort. “I remember being furious and told him I didn't care about his stupid hockey anyway.” A single shoulder shrugged between them. “Needless to say, things kind of went downhill between us from there. So, I did exactly what he wanted and studied my heart out, but only so I could get the hell out of there as soon as possible. I guess I just took it to the extreme. I became smart and independent, self-sufficient just like he wanted. All by myself.” She roamed a gaze around the room and frowned. “This...tonight—it's not who I really am.”

  Shane curled a finger under her chin, tilting up the soft skin to meet his gaze. “Maybe it's more you than you think.” The urge to bend down and kiss her sadness away was overwhelming. So strong in fact, he found his body leaning slowly toward hers.

  “Hey, you two. Supper's ready and the natives are getting restless.”

  His older brother's baritone at the doorway startled Shane to straighten. “We'll be right there.” With a tight smile, Eden nodded then ducked out from under the arm he didn't even remember bracing against the cubicles.

  She hung her coat on a wall rack and said a quick thanks to Steve as she passed by.

  Reluctantly, Shane followed until his brother's sudden arm across the door jamb stopped his forward momentum. “What?” He wasn't in the mood to deal with the superior attitude in his brother's expression.

  “Watch it, bro,” Steve warned. “You don't want to be messing with those apples.”

  He quirked a brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “She's your best friend's fiancée. Eden's the forbidden fruit, man.” He emphasized his point with a hard finger to Shane's chest. “You don't want to go near that garden, if you catch my drift.”

  “Nice analogy. Think of it yourself?” he scoffed, pushing Steve's hand aside.

  What the hell was his brother talking about? Of course, he knew Eden was Brad's fiancée. Hell, tomorrow he'd be the one standing beside him as best man while Brad married...Eden.

  Distracted, Shane almost ran over his mother coming out of the kitchen with a platter of sliced roast beef in her hands. “Here, I'll help you with that,” he offered, thankful for the diversion.

  “You're such a good boy. I wish you could find someone like Eden. She's such a dear.” With a pat to his cheek, she turned back into the kitchen. “I know you're not much for cake so I've made your favorite for dessert tonight—apple pie.”

  Shane paused a half-step outside of the dining room, Eden in full focus at the family table, and his brother’s words mocking him. You don’t want to be messing with those apples.

  Chapter Seven

  The natives are getting restless, Shane's older brother had said. Wow, talk about a reality check straight to the core.

  Eden frowned at the blur of city lights streaking by.

  With everyone together around a massive oak table, dinner had only brought home the fact that she wasn't a native, only a passerby to Shane's family. She didn't belong there.

  Problem was, now she didn't know where she belonged.

  The evening had opened her eyes, but Eden didn't like the future she saw. A lonely, boring life lay in front of her. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Brad. Somehow she kept forgetting about him. Of course, she wouldn't be alone once they got married.

  “Are you getting out?”

  “What?” Eden looked through the truck's window to find the hotel looming nearby like a monolith.

  “We're here,” Shane replied with his door half-opened. “Is everything okay? You've been kind of quiet on the ride home.”

  “I could say the same thing about you,” she retorted. “You hardly said one word during dinner and rushed us out after only one bite of dessert. Don't you like apple pie?”

  “You have no idea,” he muttered and jumped out of the truck. Within seconds, her door opened. “I'll walk you up to your room.”

  What was with the low cryptic undertone? “All right.” Not that he was giving her a choice.

  How quickly she’d become accustomed to having his hand at the small of her back disturbed her. The warm hand remained there through the lobby, in the elevator and down the long corridor to her hotel room door. Eden produced the keycard from her purse. After swiping it through the lock, she turned.

  Shane stood with his hands in his back pockets, his gaze fixed on her.

  “Thank you,” she ventured, quietly. “I had a good day.” Too good.

  “Yeah,
me too.”

  “You sound surprised.” A small bubble of amusement hid a jittering tingle in her body as he smiled down at his boots.

  He took a step closer. “I was. Pleasantly.” His gaze rose to meet hers.

  The rustic brown darkened to a melted honey-brown as it dropped to her lips. Eden rolled the bottom one between her teeth, not sure what the misty haze surrounding her brain meant. Fuzzy though it was, certain details became clearer; Shane's jawline for instance, the stubble darker than when they had first met that morning; its defined, classic strength, and the dimple she was growing to love.

  That thought startled her, shooting her heartbeat at an arrow’s pace into the wall of her chest—but not as much as when she raised her gaze to find his lips closer. Close enough to feel breath mingling with breath.

  The warm fusing drew her nearer, until not even their breath could fit between them. Her eyelids drifted shut with the gentle pressure of his lips. Slow, tentative, like the first bite of a sinful dessert. He tasted of apples and cinnamon, and she shamelessly dug in for more of the sweet concoction.

  Strong arms snaked around her waist and Eden welcomed their tight almost desperate embrace, for the first time in her life feeling truly alive.

  She twisted her fingers up into thick waves, their soft texture tugging a groan from her throat and more hair through her hands. The delicious thought of how perfectly their bodies fit together flittered through her brain as Shane tucked her closer to nibble the sensitive skin below her ear. The earlier mind haze turned to a blissful headiness of sensati—

  Thrust backward without warning, Eden wavered until her shoulder found balance against the cold wall. Her eyes flew open to find Shane's brown ones wide, his chest heaving in short, heavy pants.

  “You are the apple,” he whispered on a ragged breath, shoving his hands through his hair.

  “I-I'm what?” she stuttered around the pounding of her wild heartbeat while trying to figure out what just happened, let alone what he was talking about.

  Shane left his hands clasped in an arrested position atop his head as he paced back and forth. “The apple. The forbidden fruit. The goddamn apple.” A self-recriminating smirk tilted one side of his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I bit the apple. I bit the goddamn apple.”