by Casey Hagen
Here Shane stood, thirty years old, practically quaking in his steel-toed work boots at the sight of his dad, weak and still, and his mother resting her forehead on their joined hands by his bedside.
Shane took a deep breath and stepped in the room. “Mom?”
His mother’s head shot up and tears filled her eyes. She gently lay his father’s hand on the mattress and circled the bed to envelop Shane in a hug.
Funny how she managed that when he had a foot on her in height and a hundred pounds over her tiny frame. It had to be a mother thing, that ability to always make a kid feel protected whether six or sixty.
Laura would have been that kind of mother to their son.
He cleared his throat and held on a little tighter, rocking his mother from side to side before giving her a kiss on her temple.
Pulling away, he searched her gaze. “How is he?”
She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “They said he’s doing well, considering. I’m not sure I believe them. He’s so pale, so weak.”
“Has he spoken at all?” Shane asked, glancing over at his father’s still form.
His mother nodded. “He has. He’s comfortable, he just sleeps a lot. They said that’s normal.”
None of this was normal. Nothing in Shane’s life had been normal in the last two years.
He’d kill for just one day of normal, but after losing his wife and son he wondered every day if normal would ever apply to his life again.
“Did you hear from Devin yet?”
“She called last night. She has a few things to wrap up. She’ll be here in a couple days.” His mother took his hand. “Come on. He’ll be so happy to see you.” She walked him in and gestured for him to sit in the chair she had been in when he arrived. She dragged another from the corner, the legs scraping along the tile making him flinch.
His father’s eyes fluttered open and looked at Shane. At first, Shane wondered if his father recognized him; then he blinked, and his eyes lit up, reassuring Shane that maybe this was all going to be okay after all.
“Hey, boy. Hell of a way for me to get some time off, isn’t it?” His father laughed, which led to a coughing fit. His mother held up ice chips, which his father greedily poured into his parched mouth.
His mother patted his shoulder before sitting again. “Don’t look so stricken, Shane. It’s okay. The air is dry in here, and he coughs like that if he doesn’t drink before speaking after he wakes up.”
He didn’t know what to say to the man. He hadn’t been home in years, and the fact that he was finally here, but because of his father’s health, only highlighted how long he’d been gone and how selfish his absence was.
So what if Bellamy lived here. They were both adults, and their break-up happened over a decade ago. The more he avoided her, the more he made it look like he still had a thing.
Which was stupid. He pushed the thought out of his mind. Why he was all of a sudden thinking like a middle school girl, he didn’t know, but that shit stopped right now.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything, Dad. I’m going to keep your schedule going for you so you don’t lose any business.”
His father reached for the side of the bed, and immediately got tangled up in wires. “Dammit. Pamela, can you help me raise this damn thing? I deserve my dignity when talking business with my son.”
His mother smiled at his father’s sullen tone while getting up to help him, and that tightness in Shane’s chest loosened a bit at the sight. Despite the way he had looked when Shane first arrived the man he grew up with and admired was still in there, kicking up trouble.
“There. Now, first I want assurances from you that this is not going to put your work on the back burner, Shane. I won’t have it.” His father blustered the bold words in a thread-thin voice that belied the strength of them.
Shane smiled and shook his head, relieved to see some fire in his father. “I brought my work with me. This latest project has been rough, so I’m thinking the change of scenery and a new daily grind might just be what I need to shake the ideas loose.”
Something better shake loose or Logan Arc would hand off the project to someone else. Shane had never failed to deliver on a project. Not even when he’d lost Laura and Jason. Of course, then, he’d made use of the endless hours he’d struggled to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined their screams. It had been determined that they had died of smoke inhalation and not—well, he didn’t even want to think it. They died of smoke inhalation, so the screaming he dreamed was clearly just a manifestation of his subconscious and nothing more.
Hopefully.
“As long as you’re sure. I know my customers. They wouldn’t mind if things had to be bumped back a bit.”
“No bumping anything back. When I leave here, I’m going to go straight to your office and get myself familiar with your schedule. I’ll set up a plan to circulate to different jobs to make sure everything is running smoothly.”
“About that…you’re not going to have much time next week to travel around. I took on a small project of my own that I’m scheduled to start Monday. Supposed to help the owner save a little money. Can’t be delayed.”
Shane knew he could do whatever it was, since he’d worked alongside his dad for several years. Some during high school, and then summers and vacations from college. He also had a habit of going to every project and working a few days with the crew. It had become something he did for luck. Like hockey players who didn’t wash their socks during a winning streak. Plus, the crews respected that he did it and were extra careful to make sure their work was spot-on. “What kind of project are we talking about?”
“Just closing in a screened-in porch. She wants to turn it into a photo studio.”
“I can do that. I imagine you have the specs all done up?”
“I do. They’re on my desk and ready to go. Supplies were delivered last week. She’s expecting work to begin first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Does she have a name? You don’t usually get into projects like this for just anyone, so I’m assuming she’s a friend.”
His father didn’t meet his eyes. The whole conversation he had been fully engaged and making eye contact, but now his gaze landed everywhere but on Shane’s face.
“Bellamy Stone,” his father muttered.
Son of a bitch. Of course it was.
***
Bellamy unloaded her cart onto the belt and handed her canvas bags to the cashier. It had been smooth sailing through the grocery store and no lines up front, which made her think she had been doing this shopping thing all wrong.
Since George had had a heart attack Bellamy bumped her Sunday grocery shopping trip to Monday morning, figuring she didn’t need to be at the house to meet him for his first day on the job. Now she wondered how she could make this a permanent thing.
The aisles were free of screaming kids, confused husbands, and frantic vacationers trying to get in and out. Monday morning shopping was the experience that grocery store chains emulated in their commercials, lulling their customers into a false idea of the peaceful and fun aspect of buying groceries.
She’d always had a thing for domestic commercials. She got goosebumps whenever a cleaning solution commercial came on depicting an all-white kitchen, with white tile flooring, and a beaming mom, proud of her sparkling accomplishment as she sipped coffee and noticed that she still had two hours before the kids got off the bus.
Bellamy wanted that life.
All she needed was a man with some staying power.
A white on white house.
A picket fence.
And two-point-five kids.
Totally doable…well, all but finding the man with staying power. Her brief foray into dating sites after some pressure from her girlfriends told her that it was quite possible that all the decent men looking for a life of mortgage payments, household repairs, and dirty diapers were already taken.
Or they didn�
��t truly exist. Kind of like unicorns.
“That’ll be $68.74, please,” the cashier said. Bellamy had never seen her before. She must have been new to town. Bellamy noticed her rounded stomach.
New to town and landed a man who wanted the chaos she had mentioned above.
Bellamy wouldn’t be bitter.
She pulled out a business card and handed it to the cashier. “I see you’re expecting a little one soon. I’m a photographer and I specialize in babies. If you’re interested in my services at some point, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you. But aren’t these sessions kind of expensive?”
Bellamy grabbed the handles of the loaded grocery bag before the cashier could. She likely had a long shift ahead of her, and would be lifting plenty of groceries without hefting Bellamy’s, too.
“It can be, but you know what? Newborns are my favorite, and I’m guessing you’re new here. Am I right?”
The cashier smiled. “Yes, my husband and I just moved to the area a few months ago. I had a job all lined up but things fell through at the last minute, so now I’m here.” She gestured to the general front end of the store with a sweep of her unadorned hand.
Bellamy read her name tag. “Here’s what I’m going to do for you, Amy… let me see that card for a minute.” She took the card and flipped it over to the back with lines reserved for appointment details.
Maybe it was the high from such a great shopping experience. Maybe it was the relief that Amy brought her husband to St. Helena with her instead of snagging an eligible one from the area, but she was feeling especially generous at the moment. “I’m going to offer you a free newborn session. Let me know when you’ve delivered, and we’ll get your little one in between the one- to three-week-old mark. They grow so fast. You only have a narrow window to get these pictures. I don’t want to see you miss the opportunity because of something out of your control.”
Tears welled up in Amy’s cinnamon-colored eyes. “You would really do that for us? I was going to take her to Sears or JC Penney, but this, this is so much better. I can’t thank you enough for doing this for us.”
“You’re more than welcome. Let’s see if we can get your husband in on the shoot, too. I’ll throw in some family shots for you. I’ll give you the digital files and all you’ll have to worry about is spending money on whatever prints you want to get made up.”
Amy wiped her nose with a tissue. “I can’t thank you enough. This is such a special gift you’re giving us. But why? Why are you doing this for me?”
Bellamy pulled her debit card out of the machine and tucked it into her purse. “Because you’ve given me the best shopping experience I’ve ever had. I’m starting my week walking on air.” Bellamy grinned, took her receipt, and left the stunned cashier staring after her.
On the ride home, she decided she was going to take a nice long bath and read a good book. She had a light week, a rarity for her, and today she’d pamper herself in a way she never had the opportunity to.
Maybe she’d break out the mud mask and crack open a bottle of wine over a salmon and dill lunch. She could totally do that.
By the time she pulled onto her road, she had the rest of her day mapped out.
At least, until she pulled into her driveway to find a McGovern Contracting truck.
And locked eyes with Shane McGovern sitting in the driver’s seat.
Chapter 3
Shane didn’t know what he expected to feel when he saw Bellamy again, but the fact that she hadn’t been home when she knew she had a project contracted resulted in his twiddling his thumbs for an hour, banishing all unease.
Now he was just annoyed.
He fidgeted in the driver’s seat of his dad’s pickup and drummed his fingers on his thighs. Not everyone had all the time in the world. Had he known she wouldn’t be home he could have spent that time at his parents’, working on his own project.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel still, despite having turned off her engine. Her mouth fell open, and her pretty lips formed an “O” of surprise.
Their gazes locked, and he watched her slim neck flex as she gulped.
She stepped out of her car, shut the door, and froze there. She didn’t look like she’d aged a day. That red hair of hers hung in thick waves, brushing the shoulders of her jean jacket.
He pushed open his door and hopped out of the truck. He didn’t dare approach her. Not yet. Instead, he leaned back against the door, crossed his arms, and waited her out.
The sun shone on her green eyes, making them glow. She narrowed them at him now, likely wondering what the hell he was doing there.
She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Well, look who finally decided to grace St. Helena with his presence.”
“Someone got a sassy mouth since I’ve been gone.”
“Someone got a spine while you were gone.”
He raised a brow. “Ouch.”
She opened her trunk and slung two canvas bags over her shoulders, and reached in for more.
He joined her and reached for the additional bags. Their stand-off wouldn’t get in the way of politeness. His mother trained him well.
“I can get it,” she said.
“No doubt, but you don’t have to do it alone.”
“I’ve been doing everything alone for quite some time.” She froze when the words came out. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she stammered.
He tilted his head. “And how did it sound?”
Her lips twitched. “You know damn well how it sounded.”
He shrugged, and grabbed the two remaining bags. “I really don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.”
“Yeah, right. Are you flirting with me?”
Guilt slid through him, and pinched his hardened heart at the mention of flirting. Was he? He hadn’t set out to flirt with her. He was married, and he’d never flirted with a woman behind Laura’s back. Not once.
Only, she was gone. He’d even shed the ring within six months of her death. It had been a painful reminder, the only thing left from the life he’d had. Violent flames had consumed five years of memories and left them in a pile of unrecognizable, smoldering ashes.
He took a step back and cleared his throat. “So, uh, where do you want these?”
The light in her eyes dimmed, and she glanced away as they retreated into awkward territory. “Come on, then.”
She led him into the brick ranch-style home. The street she lived on had been built in the 1970s and 1980s. Mature trees draped over the road and houses, shading more than half of the lane. The foliage in the first section curled over the road in almost a tunnel effect, with shards of brilliant sunshine breaking through like gems on the asphalt. For a moment, it felt like driving into another world.
“You did well for yourself. I’m impressed,” he said.
“Surprised I didn’t just fall apart the day you left?” she said, glancing over her shoulder before sliding the key into the lock of the side door between the house and garage.
“That’s not what I meant.”
She pushed the door open and crossed the small hall, into a modest kitchen. The oak cabinets were probably at least a decade old, but in great shape. The beige Formica counters with golden flecks had been wiped clean.
She set her bags on the counter, peeled off her jean jacket, and leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m being so…” She waved her arms, and whatever she was going to say died on her lips.
The guilt still simmering in his veins didn’t stop him from noticing the changes in Bellamy’s body since the last time he’d seen her. She’d always been stunning, with her coppery strands, vibrant green eyes, and porcelain skin. Her curves had been delicate all through high school and they still were… but the parts of her that made her a woman, they’d rounded out, lush and full.
Despite all the ways it was a horrible idea, his fingers itched to feel those curves unde
r the palm of his hand. A part of him longed for the familiar and the new that only the landscape of Bellamy’s body could provide.
He had to get this job done and get the hell out of here before the fractured pieces that remained of his heart pieced themselves together and decided to do something colossally stupid by falling for his first love.
“Forget it. I deserve it. We had a plan. I didn’t follow through.”
“God, am I so pathetic that I’m taking that out on you? It was twelve years ago.”
“Not pathetic. Let’s start over.” He reached out a hand to her. “Hey, Bellamy. I’m here to turn your screened porch into a studio while my dad recovers from his heart attack.”
She flinched. “Your dad, he’s going to be okay?”
“He’s where I get my share of stubborn-ass from. He’s going to be fine.” He glanced down at his hand and back at her. “Don’t leave me hanging, Bellamy.”
She pushed away from the counter and sauntered over. Did she mean to saunter? Was it just his lust-filled brain imagining it?
Her warm, slim palm slid against his own, and her fingers curled around the edges of his hand. The way she did it was reminiscent of the way she had during the four years they dated in high school, yet with a brazen sexuality she hadn’t yet discovered within herself at the time. The combination sent his senses into overdrive. His blood pumped heavy and hard to areas he’d long believed dead.
He’d never do forever again. Forevers were a myth. Something always came along to snatch them away. Fires, car accidents…sometimes even heart attacks. If he couldn’t check out of life at the same time as the woman he loved, he’d rather not love at all.
But with the feeling of Bellamy’s skin against his, intoxicating him, well, he’d consider doing a for now. Maybe if everything aligned, he’d find out what he’d missed when he walked away from Bellamy all those years ago. And maybe, for the first time, he’d be able to put her firmly in the past instead of perching her on his list of regrets.