by Debbie Mason
“I’m sorry. When I made the promise, I planned to keep it. I really did. I thought maybe we’d have a second chance too. But then things happened, and I knew it was best for both of us if we just left things the way they were.”
He thought about the things she’d said over the past few days. Her move to Vegas. Her reaction to his news about her sisters. “Something happened ten months ago to change your mind. What was it?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
Maybe she felt like she owed him something for his embarrassingly long wait at the bandstand on Christmas Day, because she relented. “I found my sisters. After years of dead ends and false leads, I finally found them, and they wanted nothing to do with me and Charlie.” She shrugged as if it didn’t bother her. He knew better. “It’s not their fault. They’d moved on to lives with a mother and father, siblings too. Their adoptive families were ones they could be proud of; good, churchgoing people with stable careers, respected by their communities. The perfect American families.”
She rubbed her hands on the steering wheel, and he thought maybe she was finished. He opened his mouth to tell her how sorry he was, how much his heart broke for her, but she surprised him by continuing. “I didn’t blame them, but still, it was hard to hear they wanted nothing to do with us. Ever since we were separated, I thought about the day we’d be together again as a family, that moment when I finally found them and what it would be like.”
She gave a small laugh. “It didn’t exactly go according to plan. Charlotte, the baby, she’s Donna now and has a two-year-old of her own. Her husband owns a tech company and does well. She’s involved in charity work. I guess because Lanie was older, they let her keep her name. You’d like her; she’s a lawyer. Graduated top of her class. Her father’s a congressman. Her siblings are involved in politics too. She was engaged when I saw her. She’d be married now.”
He wanted to hold her and take away the hurt in her voice. He wanted to track down her sisters and beg them to call her, to tell her that it had all been a mistake, that they missed her as much as she missed them, that they’d thought about her every day like she’d thought about them. “It’s their loss. They don’t know what they’re missing not having you in their lives.”
“Right, an ex-con who’s suspected of murder and God knows what else by the FBI, and an uncle who’s either running from the mob or running with them.”
“Stop. You’re letting the past, your past, define you. You were a kid, Shay. You made a mistake, and it’s time to let it go before it ruins your future.”
“Maybe it already has.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Do I? You guys wouldn’t be looking at me for this if I didn’t have a record.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, babe, but yeah, we would, because your uncle pointed the finger directly at you,” he snapped, and then took a moment to calm himself before he said something he couldn’t take back.
She loved Charlie. The old man was the only family she had left, and Michael wasn’t about to make things worse by telling her exactly where to lay the blame for everything she’d endured. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry. I don’t like hearing you put yourself down.”
“It doesn’t bother me, so it shouldn’t bother you.” She took the turnoff to Harmony Harbor. “Are you okay to drive back from my place? Or should I drop you off and walk home?”
This wasn’t how he’d hoped the night would end. Obviously, he should’ve kept his opinions to himself. “It’s fine. I…Hang on a sec,” he said when his cell phone rang. “Hey, Jasper, what’s up?”
“I don’t wish to disturb your evening, but I think it would be best for you to come home immediately, Master Michael.”
“I’m almost there. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“It appears someone left the door to the cottage open, and Atticus is gone. Liam, Griffin, and I have been searching the area for the past half hour and haven’t found any sign of him,” he said, referring to Michael’s cousins, Finn’s and Aidan’s brothers. Both men were highly trained in search and rescue. Liam was a firefighter, and Griffin was a former Navy SEAL now with the Coast Guard. The fact they hadn’t been able to find Atticus yet worried him.
“I’m ten minutes out.”
“Michael, what is it?” Shay asked when he disconnected.
“Atticus. He’s missing.”
* * *
Shay held the flashlight on Michael as he took off his coat to wrap around Atticus. They’d been searching through the woods across from the cottage for the past thirty minutes when Michael thought he heard something. While he called for the dog, Shay and Jasper had listened for any sound. A few minutes ago, they’d heard a low, mournful howl, which led them to where they were now, a small creek bed.
“Is he okay?” Shay asked Michael from where she stood on the bank.
“Just cold, wet, exhausted, and completely disoriented, I think,” he said as he crouched to lift the dog in his arms. He staggered a little as he rose to his feet. Not surprisingly since Atticus was the size of a small horse and weighed at least a hundred and twenty pounds.
After their earlier conversation on the way here, the last thing she should be doing is touching the man, but she couldn’t seem to help herself and gave Michael’s arm a comforting rub when he made it up the embankment. He’d been beside himself with worry over his dog, and that touched her. He’d touched her earlier too.
If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the weight of his hand against her skin. It wasn’t the only place he touched her, though. She might’ve been safer if it had been. But his words went deeper. His confession that he’d waited for her at the bandstand for hours, and his talk about a ring had touched deep down to her very soul.
This tall, handsome man, with his money and manners, loved deeply and faithfully. He was kind and gentle. And right now, all his love and attention was focused on his dog. “And what about you? How are you doing?” she asked.
“Wet, cold, and immensely relieved,” he admitted.
“As are we all, Master Michael. I’ve let your cousins know that Atticus has been found. I’ve also taken the liberty of ordering a GPS tracker. You gave us a fright,” the older man said to the dog, the telling sheen in his eyes quickly blinked away. “I’ll let everyone at the manor know all has ended well. Perhaps it would be best if I told your mother that you and Atticus aren’t up for a visit this evening and to drop by in the morning.”
“Thanks, Jeeves. I can always count on you,” he said, stumbling on the loose rocks.
“Would you like some help? I can…Okay,” Shay said, trying, but not able, to hold back a laugh. “It wasn’t a shot at your manhood, you know. I just thought we could take turns.”
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“You’ve done it now, miss. He was always competitive. He won’t take a break now.”
“That’s ridiculous. Michael. You’re cold and wet, and Atticus must weigh close to a hundred and twenty pounds.”
“One forty.”
“All right, forget the macho act. You can’t carry him all the way to the cottage. You’ll strain your back. Why don’t you put him down and see if he can walk? I’m sure—”
“He’s been lost and alone for almost two hours, and he can barely see, Shay. I’m not putting him down.”
She stared after him as he strode ahead of them. “What does he think he’s doing?”
“At any other time, I might say proving a point. But I believe his worry for Atticus outweighs anything else at the moment. He wants to get him inside and warmed up as soon as possible.”
“Atticus is the size of a horse and wearing a fur coat. As well as Michael’s coat. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“Perhaps it would be best if you kept those thoughts to yourself, at least for tonight. Master Michael has always been protective of Atticus, but even more so now that the dog is going
blind.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he pampers Atticus. He always struck me as the overindulgent type.”
“Yes, he is that, and sometimes to his detriment.”
They caught up with Michael ten minutes later as he walked up the path to the white cottage.
“You’re crazy and stubborn, you know that?” Shay said as she moved around him to open the screen door. “Would you just put the dog down?”
“You can tell you’re not an animal lover,” he muttered, the strain evident on his face. The dog still in his arms.
“Who says I’m not? Atticus likes me, and so does Roxy. Mostly.” She followed him inside. She’d been here twice when they were younger. It hadn’t changed much. The high white pine ceilings gave the space a light and airy feel. The back opened to an enclosed porch with views of the ocean and the tip of Starlight Pointe, where a lighthouse stood watch.
A nautical theme was carried throughout the cottage, from the porch to the large kitchen and living room of the open floor plan. The stark white walls were offset by ocean blue focal walls at either end, blue-and-white-striped wallpaper framing the row of windows at the back.
The overlarge furniture had obviously been purchased for comfort and durability, not show, as it had stood the test of time and three boys. Although, here and there she could pick out Maura Gallagher’s influence. Like the white baby grand piano in the corner and the expensive artwork on the large wall above the leather sectional.
Just enough to remind Maura’s family of her presence, Shay supposed. As far as she knew, Michael’s mother, unlike her sons, had never liked to spend time here.
“Master Michael, your teeth are chattering. Put Atticus down and grab a warm shower. I’m sure Ms. Angel wouldn’t mind towel-drying Atticus while you do.” When she hesitated, Jasper said, “I’d stay, but there are a few things I need to take care of at the manor.”
She looked at Michael and Atticus and didn’t think she’d ever seen a more forlorn-looking pair. “You two are pathetic,” she said, unzipping her boots and leaving them on the mat by the door. “Put him down right now, Michael, and go have a shower.”
“I’m not leaving him alone with you. He’s just been through a traumatic experience, and you’re yelling at him, and at me too. Do you always have to be such a hardass?”
“All right, then, I’ll just leave you two to work it out,” Jasper said, and backed out the door.
“Oh my God, he’s a dog.” She stomped over to take Atticus from Michael’s arms, nearly collapsing under the weight when she did.
Michael grinned.
She gave him a clenched teeth smile in return and then weaved her way across the room to the doggy bed under the window. If not for the challenge in Michael’s eyes, she would’ve put Atticus down. The man must have arms and legs of steel and more fortitude and stamina than she’d ever imagined. At the thought, her mind went to an extremely dangerous place. A place in which she tested the strength of his arms and legs and his fortitude and stamina…in bed, naked.
“No, don’t put him in his bed.”
She turned, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, her knees about to buckle. “Why not?”
“Because…” He angled his head. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed?”
“Fine. I admit it. You’re stronger than me and in better shape. Happy now?” she said, setting Atticus gently on his feet. “How that’s even possible, I have no idea. Now before your dog gets in his bed and you give me grief, tell me what…Yes, I’m happy to see you too,” she said when Atticus gave her a chin-to-nose lick.
Michael walked over with a worn comforter in his hand and crouched to tuck the well-loved quilt in the dog’s bed. “I don’t know what it is about her, boy. She’s cranky, bossy, and demanding, yet we keep coming back for more,” he said as he rose to his feet.
“I’m not cranky, or bossy. I’m—” The rest of what she was about to say left her head when his strong hand slid under her hair and curved around her neck. She stared up at him, into those vibrant blue eyes that seemed to be looking at her with both amusement and exasperation. As he slowly bent his head, he murmured, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
“Why do you want to kiss me? You just said I’m cranky, bossy, and demanding.” There was a touch of nerves in her voice, along with irritation. But, of their own volition, her hands slid up his damp white shirt that gave her a toe-curling view of his well-defined chest beneath. Her fingers came to rest on his broad shoulders, smoothing the damp fabric of his ruined suit coat before clasping behind his neck. It felt familiar and wildly different at the same time.
He gave her a slow smile as his hands moved to her waist. They were heavy and warm as they drew her firmly against him. “You are cranky, bossy, and demanding. You’re also exasperating and frustrating.” His fingers tightened, holding her in place as she went to pull away. “But you stayed and helped me look for Atticus, and despite wearing next to nothing and killer heels, you never complained. Not when the branch slapped you in the face, or when you tripped over the log, or when you leaned on the tree and water cascaded from the leaves, soaking you and making your makeup run.”
She curled her fingers into the fabric of his jacket, refusing to give in to the urge to wipe off the mascara that must be running down her face. Her worries about what she must look like with her ruined makeup and wet hair disappeared the moment he said, “And no matter how you much you try to hide it with your cranky-ass act, you were worried about me and my dog.”
“For a smart man who was once purportedly the best prosecutor in the state, you’re not doing a very good job convincing me to let you kiss me, you know.”
“No?”
“No, and stop looking amused. It makes your eyes bluer and crinkles the corners and makes you looked older and sexier.”
“I better stop, then.”
“Yes, stop talking and kiss me so you can shower and I can towel-dry your dog.”
He threw back his head and laughed, and as the deep, rich sound washed over her, she couldn’t help but remember all the good times they’d had. And like the branch and the cascading water of earlier tonight, the truth she’d been denying for what felt like forever hit her. She’d missed being with this man, being held by him, and, if he eventually stopped laughing, being kissed by him.
But then when he did stop laughing, she found herself wishing that he hadn’t. It was the emotion that darkened his eyes. She knew what it was; she’d seen it before. Every time he’d looked at her that long ago summer. “Don’t,” she pleaded, unprepared for this now.
His expression softened, and he lifted his hands to cup her face. “I wish it was that easy, but it’s not. Don’t you get it, Angel? I love you when you’re a bossy, moody, demanding, exasperating, infuriating pain in the butt. I love every part of you, and as hard as I’ve tried to forget you, I’ve never been able to. And I’m terrified that by kissing you right now, I’ll be doomed forever, frozen here in this room, in this moment, unable to move on. I’ll be alone, just me and my dog. But I need to kiss you like I need air to breathe. So please, don’t say no; say yes.”
She knew if she said yes to him right now, she was saying yes to more than a kiss. She was saying yes to the promise of them. She’d broken her promise to him once before. She'd never break another one. Not after what he’d just said.
A battle between yes and no raged inside her. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, and that’s why she had to protect him. Even if it was from himself, even if it was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
He hadn’t thought this through. His job and the respect of his colleagues and family would all be on the line if they got involved. Her uncle was a suspect, and so was she.
Just as she opened her mouth to try and explain why they couldn’t do this, at least not right now, there was a knock on the door.
Maybe because he’d seen the answer in her eyes before she uttered the word, his smile faded just a lit
tle. “Saved by the butler,” he murmured, the disappointment she heard in his voice proof that he knew what she’d been about to say.
She touched his arm as he went to step away. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter Fifteen
While trying to come to terms with how badly he’d crashed and burned with Shay, Michael opened the door to find Jasper standing on the back deck with a conspiratorial curve to his lips and a picnic basket no doubt filled with a romantic late-night snack.
“I thought you and Ms. Angel would enjoy…” He looked from Michael to Shay, and the matchmaking gleam in his eye turned to one of frustrated concern. “All right, off you go and have your showers while I see to Atticus. Ms. Angel, you can take the one in the master,” Jasper ordered in voice that dared them to refuse as he marched into the cottage and set the picnic basket on the coffee table.
Fully expecting Shay to refuse, Michael remained by the door to see her out. Instead, she shocked him by nodding and heading to his parents’ bedroom. It didn’t take long for his shock to become understanding.
It happened while he stood under a fine spray of hot water in the shower. The entire night began playing in his head: Shay dancing, seeing the ring, interrupting her in Kozack’s office, the drive here, searching for Atticus, finding him…The mental film clip came to a grinding halt, frozen on Shay at the precise moment her fingers brushed his arm and she apologized, pity and tenderness clearly stamped on her beautiful face. The only reason Shay had done as Jasper ordered was to make sure Michael was okay.
He stepped out of the shower and made his way to the change of clothes on his bed, toweling his hair dry as he did. At the distant sound of the shower in his parents’ bedroom, he considered stalling, not sure he wanted to face Shay or what he should say. If Jasper hadn’t gone to the trouble of making them a late-night snack, Michael might’ve turned on the shower and sat on his bed until he heard the front door close behind her.
Instead, he got dressed and then walked out of the bedroom to the great room, glancing at Atticus, who was trying to get comfortable in his bed, at Jasper putting the final touches to his romantic dinner, doing his utmost to ensure Michael got a second shot at love.