Captured In Ink (Art of Love Series)

Home > Other > Captured In Ink (Art of Love Series) > Page 7
Captured In Ink (Art of Love Series) Page 7

by McDonald, Donna


  Shane patted his tattoo. “My father is the role model for my superhero. That’s my deepest secret. You’re the only person besides my brother that I’ve told.”

  Reesa smiled nervously and nodded. “Your secret is safe with me, but don’t make me your first for anything else, okay.”

  “Too late,” he said, giving her his most wicked smile. “You broke in my tongue stud, and I consider it yours now. And you made me want you again so badly that I was making deals with the universe to find you. You don’t have to keep my interest in you a secret though. I’m bragging to everyone I know about you.”

  “Please. I may be your most unique conquest, but I was hardly your first one for anything. You didn’t learn those moves without practice,” Reesa told him on a laugh. “If you’re done flirting now, I guess we might as well have coffee and bagels while we wait.”

  Shane looked at his hands, biting back telling her she was going to be his last conquest, and that he wanted her to be his practice partner for all the things he’d never gotten to do with a woman yet. It was obviously too soon to go there with that panic lighting up her expression every time she looked at him.

  “Let me go wash up. I brought two kinds of bagels. For future reference, I like blueberry.”

  Shane took off to the bathroom, feeling Reesa’s nervous gaze following him as he left.

  ***

  They were on coffee refills when Reesa heard a loud, growling sound outside.

  “What’s that?” she asked, laughing. “Does your father drive a train?

  “That’s Dad’s hog,” Shane explained, standing up. “It’s a big touring bike, lots of leather and chrome, very noisy. It’s his pride and joy.”

  “Your father rides a motorcycle?” Reesa asked. “At his age?”

  “His age? He’s only fifty-three. Dad’s ridden a bike all his life, or at least for as long as I can remember,” Shane said. He headed to the door with Reesa trailing a bit behind him.

  “Oh hell, I should have known this would happen,” Shane said, sighing and looking out the door with a frown. “Michael and Carrie are here too. I’m sorry about the crowd. They’re just really curious about you.”

  “Curious about me? Why?” Reesa asked. How could they be curious? They didn’t know her.

  “They want to meet you because they know I’m in love with you,” Shane said calmly, yelling when Reesa reached out and pinched his arm. “Hey—no pinching allowed. That hurts.”

  “Wake up from dreamland and stop saying that. You are not in love with me. Read those textbooks you obviously skipped in school. You’re being delusional, Dr. Larson,” Reesa denied firmly. “And why did you tell your family that nonsense?”

  Shane looked at Reesa, tilting his head and giving her a stern look. Jillian had demanded his personal details within minutes of him showing up at the house because her best friend had accepted the truth.

  “Why wouldn’t I tell my family that I fell in love with a wonderful person?” Shane asked.

  “I don’t know—maybe because the statement isn’t true?” Reesa suggested, flinging both hands into the air in a gesture of disbelief trying to emphasize to Shane how ridiculous his statements were when they were still practically strangers.

  “You’re just frustrated and cranky. I guess I should have nailed you on the kitchen floor when I had the chance. Sorry I let you down, honey. I won’t make that mistake next time,” Shane said, grinning into Reesa’s suddenly furious face. Making her mad was every bit as much fun as he’d imagined it would be.

  “For your information, I am not frustrated and cranky. I’m just a realist about our situation,” Reesa informed him. “And for future reference, there will be no nailing me until I’m ready to be nailed.”

  “Give me five minutes,” Shane said confidently, absorbing her punch on his arm. “Woman, you’re vicious. Luckily I recognize the pseudo-violence for the mating ritual it is. But for the record, I like you finger-combing my hair a lot better than the violent stuff.”

  “I guess I lied when I told Jillian you weren’t one of those stupid guy-guys,” Reesa said spitefully.

  “What do you mean guy-guys?” Shane asked, truly confused about the description. “I’m just stating a hard fact—a very hard fact—when I say that I want you. And I’m also being a realist about our situation when I do.”

  “Yeah—right. That’s just sex, Shane. The new hasn’t worn off yet. It will eventually go away. You don’t need a psych degree to know that.” Reesa watched a man and woman climb out of a car and walk to the giant man climbing off the bike. “Is that your father? Geez—he looks as big as you. Love the shaved head. Not many men make it look that good.”

  “When he was younger, Dad looked like Michael—hair and all,” Shane said, grinning. “In height, I have him by a couple inches, but Dad is a big guy. It’s his shoulders I think. He still works out so he’s not lost much bulk over the years. You should see his new girlfriend—or I guess I should call her his fiancée now. Jessica’s almost six feet tall. Mom is the shortest person in our family, but even she is still several inches taller than you.”

  Shane turned to Reesa and looked down. “You project tall. Anybody ever tell you that? Sometimes I forget how short you are until I’m standing right next to you like this. Most of the time, I think of you as my size.”

  Reesa looked up at Shane and rolled her eyes dramatically while he watched. “You know, I get that all the time. People even tell me to duck my head when I walk through doorways. I know they mean well, but it’s so annoying. Sometimes I have to show them my driver’s license just to prove how short I am.”

  Shane laughed at her self-deprecating humor because he’d already determined from a variety of clues that Reesa really, really hated being short. Maybe he could help her find ways to like it better. Thoughts of how he could do that made him smile wickedly when he looked at her.

  “You’re like those tiny, bite size candy bars. I could eat a whole bag, one tiny candy bar at a time,” Shane told her, snickering at her green sparking gaze.

  “Stop talking like that, and stop looking at me that way,” she ordered, pushing on his arm.

  “What way?” Shane asked, grinning as Reesa pulled some hairs on his arm to torture him further. It really was starting to turn him on. “You already know I like it rough, so you’re only making the situation worse by getting physical with me when I want you so much. You might want to back off while I’m still feeling civilized.”

  “You probably like sex any time and any way you can get it—not that I care what you like,” Reesa said sternly.

  “I bet you ten dollars I could easily make it your top priority this morning,” Shane said, grinning. “You’ll be finger combing my hair again in gratitude.”

  Reesa rolled her eyes again, swinging her gaze back to the door and straight into three people trying to hide their knowing smiles from her, all with their eyebrows raised high on their foreheads.

  “Hi,” she said, totally embarrassed and feeling her face flood with a blush. She punched Shane one last time hard on the arm when he laughed at her discomfort and sent him staggering sideways. “I’m Reesa Callahan. Thanks for coming to rescue me. Come on in.”

  ***

  Reesa made a third pot of coffee while she watched Will trying as unsuccessfully as Shane had to fit his massive upper body inside the sink cabinet.

  Michael stood and walked to him, stooping down. “Dad, get out of there. You don’t fit. Let me do it. Just get the church key ready to shut off the main water connection if it breaks.”

  “I sprayed the shut off valve twice with lube. It should loosen up enough to turn now,” Will said, sliding out and standing. “Wow. That’s hard on the old back.”

  “Well don’t hurt yourself,” Michael said, laughing. “Jessica will kill Shane and me both if you’re out of commission for your wedding night.”

  “Forgive my husband, Reesa,” Carrie said, narrowing her gaze on Michael’s grin. “He’s not very co
uth.”

  “Am I lying?” Michael asked Shane, who shook his head and grinned. “See, Carrie? I’m just being a realist about the situation.”

  Reesa looked at the ceiling and refused to meet Shane’s wicked gaze that she knew would match his laughter. Finally, she brought it back to Will who was rubbing his lower back.

  “Will, please sit and let me get you another cup of coffee.”

  Will nodded. “I won’t say no to that offer. Jessica drinks tea and I’ve been trying to do instant at her house. I wait until she goes to work and sneak over to Michael’s for real coffee.”

  Michael slid under the sink, his smaller mass allowing him to get far enough into the cabinet to do what was necessary. A couple grunts and two minutes later Michael slid back out. “Ta da—water is turned off and the valve is working again.”

  “Thank you all,” Reesa said happily, practically sagging with relief.

  A horn blew outside and Reesa walked to the door to open it for Sara who was home from school.

  “Aunt Teresa, there are big bikes at our house! Did you see them?” Sara asked, her backpack trailing behind her on the ground being dragged by a single strap.

  “Pick up your backpack, sweetie,” Reesa said. “You’re getting it dirty.”

  Sara picked it up and walked into the house, her head still turned trying to get a look at the bike parked in the driveway.

  “Are they our bikes?” Sara asked.

  “No, baby,” Reesa said. “The one by the house is Shane’s bike. The big one on the street belongs to his father.”

  “Shaney’s father?” Sara asked, confused, walking the living room.

  Shane walked out of the kitchen and bowed. “Princess Sara—very good to see you, Your Majesty. How was school today?”

  “Shaney!” Sara said, running and throwing herself at him. “You came back.”

  Shane bent and hoisted her up. “Of course I came back,” he said, laughing. “Didn’t you think I would?”

  Sara shrugged. Shane looked at Reesa, who swallowed and looked away.

  Oh hell, he thought. Not everyone always came back. Missed that one, Shane decided, mentally cringing at his joking manner.

  “Princess Sara—I brought my family to meet you. Would you like to go put on your dancing shoes first?” Shane asked, changing the subject quickly.

  “Is your mommy here?” she asked.

  “No,” Shane answered. “My mother was busy. You’ll have to meet her another day.”

  He hoped the universe forgave him for the tiny lie this time.

  “Is your daddy here?” Sara asked.

  “Yes,” Shane confirmed. “And he would very much like to meet you.”

  “Will he take me for a ride on the big bike?” she asked.

  “Well, not yet. You have to have a motorcycle helmet and they don’t make them your size. But he would probably let you sit on the bike and pretend to ride. He used to do that for me when I was little like you,” Shane told her.

  Sara considered that for a moment. “Okay. I would like to sit on it. Can I wear my dancing shoes and my princess dress?”

  “I’m sure that would be fine,” he said seriously, setting her down, and watching her run down the hall.

  When Sara was out of earshot, Shane looked at Reesa. “Is she still asking when her parents are coming home?”

  “Every night when she wakes up and forgets what’s going on,” Reesa said quietly.

  “I can’t imagine how you’ve dealt with all four of them grieving by yourself,” Shane told her.

  “I have Jillian. She helps a lot when she’s home,” Reesa said.

  But Jillian wasn’t able to be there all the time, Shane thought. And Jillian hadn’t been the one who gave up her job to take care of the kids.

  Obviously, the “dweeb” had been no help at all.

  Even if he and Reesa had been only friends, Shane would still have wanted to help her with the kids now and again. They were great. The whole family was great.

  Grief was a bitch to deal with, especially alone. He’d done volunteer grief counseling for two years in college. Shane couldn’t imagine losing his mother and father the way the kids had theirs. Thinking about it sure made his parent’s divorce seem like nothing important in the bigger picture of life. His family loving him had always been the one constant in his life. Maybe seeing them here bothered Reesa in ways she wasn’t showing him.

  “Want me to get my family out of your hair?” Shane asked, testing his theory.

  “No—I’d like to order lunch for everyone. It seems the least I can do for the rescue,” Reesa said, running a hand through her hair in response to Shane’s suggestion. “Brian has his counselor appointment after school today at three-thirty and Zack has ball practice. Chelsea is planning on just hanging at the school to wait on me to pick up Zack. She doesn’t like being home alone. I’m not going to get much done around the house before I have to leave anyway. Everyone might as well stay and have lunch with me and Sara.”

  Shane nodded at Reesa’s logistical list just as Sara came bounding back down the hall. He bowed to her.

  “Princess Sara, are you prepared to meet my family?” he asked.

  “Yes—I am repaired,” she said.

  “Prepared,” Reesa corrected, smiling at the sweet nervousness on Sara’s face.

  “That’s what I said—repaired,” Sara replied, her face serious.

  “If it’s okay, I’d like to be here when Joe comes tonight,” Shane told Reesa, smiling at Sara’s expression.

  Reesa sighed, nodded, and poked his tattooed arm. “Sure. Far be it from me to run my hero off.”

  “I think your aunt just called me a hero,” Shane said to Sara.

  “Well—you are very tall,” Sara said wisely.

  Shane laughed as he walked into the kitchen holding Sara’s hand.

  ***

  That evening at seven, Shane was sitting in the floor handing Joe tools.

  In the background, he heard Zack and Chelsea in a heated debate over a teacher at the high school and whether the grading in his class was fair. Hearing them, Shane’s first thought was that it might have been interesting if he and Michael had been closer in age.

  Brian had gone to his room when he got home and had yet to come out this evening. He hadn’t really even said hello.

  Sara and Reesa were down the hall in Sara’s room picking out clothes and getting “repaired” for tomorrow. Sara’s mispronunciation made him grin. Man, he had fallen hard for the little smarty blonde, almost as hard as he’d fallen for Reesa.

  “Dude—how can you stand this craziness? You sit for hours in that condo of yours with no music, no TV, and no one around. Now you’re smiling that Buddha smile of yours in the middle of chaos,” Joe observed. “Reesa must be extremely talented in the sack to merit this level of tolerance.”

  Shane frowned. “Hey, watch it! You’re not allowed to wonder how good Reesa is or why I’m here unless you keep your thoughts PG.”

  Joe grunted inside the cabinet, swearing softly.

  “I like them, Joe,” Shane told him. “I like all of them. Being here is not a hardship.”

  “Yeah—but what’s in this homey box of crazy for you?” Joe asked quietly. “What does Shane Larson get from being here?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Shane replied seriously. “I just know this is where I need to be.”

  “You have that look I can’t argue with, which is why I’m not home drinking beer after the twelve-hour day I put in already,” Joe said, sighing. “I probably owe you several of these damn favors. When I feel paid up, you are going to catch hell, Larson. Then you will pay my friend.”

  “I’ll pay you now if you want. I’m just glad you’re able to do this stuff. Neither Reesa nor I are handy around the house,” Shane told him.

  “Tell your woman to call me when there’s a problem. Either I’ll help her or find her someone who can,” Joe said, laying down his tools at last. “If she matters so much to you,
I’ll make sure no one takes advantage of her.”

  Joe turned on the main water valve again and heard the pipes fill. So far—so good, he thought.

  “Okay, Larson. Turn the cold water on very slowly and pray to your maker while you’re doing it,” Joe said, exaggerating an Irish brogue that he didn’t come by naturally, but had cultivated for picking up women. It worked remarkably well with his red hair and laughing blue gaze when they were going to school up east in Baltimore.

  Shane turned on the water, and Joe quickly verified there were no leaks.

  “Success,” Joe said, smiling. “Can I go home now? I hear a beer calling me.”

  Reesa came back into the kitchen and sighed at the sight of the faucet running smoothly.

  “Wow, that’s good to see. Hard to believe that when I was an accountant I used to care about big things like companies skimming profits from their stockholders. Now as a stay home mother, the sight of the kitchen faucet working brings tears of gratitude to my eyes. You’re a good man, Joe,” Reesa said, smiling. “How about a beer while I write you a check?”

  “I’ll take the beer, but no check,” Joe said, studying the petite brunette who was pleasantly charming and smiled about nearly everything. He bet she had a keen sense of humor. Of course, she would need one to survive four kids in the house.

  “I owe Shane for Saturday still. We’re even now that I helped you. You can work out any other payment deals with him. I’m sure he’d be happy to collect on my behalf. Don’t let him take advantage of your good nature.”

  Reesa snorted as she brought both Joe and Shane a beer. “Shane’s been my hero all day. I already owe him for calling you. At least let me feed you. I was just about to put lasagna in the oven. All I have to do is warm it up.”

  “You cook?” Joe asked, fighting not to laugh at Shane narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes, she cooks. What’s it to you, McEldowney?” Shane demanded.

  Joe bowed his head to the floor to hide his smile. Larson was already jealous. God help the man—he was a goner over the tiny, charming woman.

  “I can’t remember the last time I worked for food. Normally, the hero gets all the gratitude in Larson’s stories, so it’s nice for his lowly sidekick to get some recognition for once. I’d love to stay for dinner, Reesa. Call me when you need anything fixed. I’ll make you a good deal or find you the right help,” he said, feeling good about himself when she nodded and looked extremely relieved.

 

‹ Prev