"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
Isaac pulled back so that he could see my face. He stared at me with a serious expression. "Don't be sorry," he said. "But don't ever do that again. If something scares you or worries you, just tell me. Tell me, and I'll make it right."
I nodded thoughtfully. I was contemplating saying more, and I knew he could tell my wheels were turning. I really was scared that I wasn't going to be able to get over the jealous feelings about that girl and his past, but the last thing I wanted to do was bring it up again. I figured if I had ever been with someone in my past, my feelings about it might be different, but I hadn't, so in my mind, the fact that he had been intimate with someone previously was scary. It made me feel like maybe he had some kind of lifelong bond with her. It wasn't about the pregnancy, either. I had thought about that quite a bit, and I knew there was no way to know if she had even been telling the truth about that, and even if she had, the outcome of it wasn't his fault.
"Shelby, what?" he said, touching the side of my face. "Tell me what you're thinking."
I blinked, staring at him. "I'm still jealous," I whispered. "I don't want to be, but I am."
"Why are you jealous, my sweet Shelby? I am telling you the truth from the bottom of my heart that you don't need to be. I want you and only you. I have never felt like this. I'll do anything to make you know that. I'll marry you today. I'll move to Memphis. I don't care. Just tell me."
"I'm not jealous of you looking at other girls," I said. "I trust you, and I can tell you're telling me the truth."
He rested his hand on me, staring at me sincerely. "What's the matter, then?"
"It's just that I've never been with a man like that."
"And you have no idea how happy that makes me," he said.
"Exactly!" I said. "You saying that is exactly what makes me jealous. It makes me feel like you know about some kind of magical bond or connection that happens with people who have done that."
His expression softened as he better understood my concern. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry," he said. "It really hurts my heart that I'm not able to give you the same gift you're able to give me." He spoke with such sincerity that it caused tears to well in my eyes. He tenderly rubbed my face with his thumb. "I do wish I could give you that gift. I wish I had waited for you like you waited for me."
A tear fell onto my cheek, and he wiped it away.
"But you just have to forgive me. You just have to find it in your heart to forgive me and let me start over with you, Shelby. I might not deserve it, but I'm asking you to do it. Just put it out of your mind and know in your heart that it's my past and it has nothing to do with my future. There's no bond—nothing was magical, I promise. You, Shelby Kennedy, are my only magic. You're everything I don't deserve, but I want you anyway. I'm asking you to forgive me and trust me and move forward with me. Can you do that?"
I gave him a nod.
"Is anything else bothering you?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Well, Cindy, but that's nothing we need to talk about," I said.
Isaac made a dismissive face. "Yeah, obviously that's not even a—I mean, I could text her and tell her I'm with you if you want. Or we could send her a picture of us kissing or something, if you think that'll drive the point home."
I laughed at the thought of sending Cindy that sort of text. "That's okay," I said. "You were just asking if anything else bothered me, and she's what came to mind when you said that word. I'm not really worried about her. I'm sure she'll find out soon enough that you're—that we're…"
"That we're what?" Isaac asked, looking amused by the fact that I was fumbling for words. "Lovers?" he said when I couldn’t come up with anything.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Too risqué."
"Dating?" he suggested.
I shrugged and gave him a little nod like that was more along the lines of what I was thinking.
"Seeing each other? Together? Going steady? Taken? Engaged?"
"Engaged?" I said, wrinkling my nose and smiling at him for being silly.
He shrugged. "Why not? I don't see why you can't tell her that if we will be one day."
"Yeah, but she would think I was crazy if I said that. She'd think I was lying. She'd think I was making it up."
"Who cares what she or anybody else thinks?" he said.
I shrugged and rested my hand on his cheek. "Not us, I guess."
"Nope," he said.
I scanned his face, marveling at how precious he was. There was no other place I'd rather be than right there, cradled in his lap. I leaned in and placed a soft kiss right on his irresistible cheekbone, and afterward, he slowly tilted up wearing a grin like he wanted me to do that somewhere else.
"What, you want me to do it again?" I asked.
He nodded. I leaned in again, and placed another kiss right on his cheek—this one was softer and I let it linger longer, but it was on his face and not his mouth, so when I pulled back, he shook his head slowly.
"What?" I asked, playing coy. "Not good enough?" I leaned in, and again, kissed his cheek. This time, I stretched lower, landing closer to his mouth. I also licked my lips before I did it, which meant the kiss was different—warmer. I had landed on the edge of his whiskers, and it tickled my lips in the most tempting way possible. Isaac let out a sound of approval—a low groan. It was quick, but there was no mistaking what it meant, and I was smiling when I pulled back to look at him.
Isaac could stand it no longer. He took matters into his own hands. He kissed me—not on the cheek, but right on my mouth. He moved and shifted as if trying desperately to find the best position for our mouths to connect. He held my face as he tasted my mouth over and over again. He kissed me deeply and with tender passion. I felt wave after wave of desire and love crash over me during that kiss. Isaac loved me, and kissed me in such a way that showed me that.
Chapter 16
In the few weeks that followed, Isaac and I spent a ton of time together. We talked, ate, laughed, took walks, kissed, and even spent a little time playing the piano for each other and riding motorcycles. We would get together as soon as we were done with our workdays, and we'd hang out until late at night when he would reluctantly drag himself back to his hotel.
A couple of times (when I didn't have to work the next day) we had accidentally fallen asleep on my couch together, and when that happened, Isaac would wake me up in the middle of the night and tuck me into bed before leaving.
Sometimes, he would come by my house and get Patrick while I was at work. He had taken him on field trips to his hotel and to the worksite, and it cracked me up one day when we all went out together and everyone already knew and loved Patrick.
Isaac was also busy getting to know my family while I was at work or in the hours when I was still sleeping. He was an early riser, and he had been using the early morning hours to become acclimated with riding a motorcycle. He loved it, and was getting more and more confident with it by the day.
He told Daniel about his early-morning excursions, and since then, they had been going out together. Sometimes, it was just the two of them, and other times, Owen, Uncle Jesse, Liam, or my dad would join them. They had a good time together in spite of the fact that fall was in full swing and most mornings were cool, verging on cold. It was fun for Isaac to start his day with a brisk ride, and often, he would go to Daniel's afterward for a swim in the heated indoor pool to warm his bones and get in his exercise for the day—all of this took place before 8:30 or 9, by which time he was dressed and at the worksite.
The men and my family had gotten to know more of Isaac through these morning rides and swims, and they had all come to me individually, mentioning what a good guy he was—like they wanted me to stay with him—as if I needed any encouragement.
We had only been together for a short time, but already, I couldn't imagine my life without him. I was head over heels, lost in love, hopelessly devoted. It was for this reason that I blushed and ran to the bathroom when I opened an ema
il that had to do with him. It was an email from Courtney that was sent earlier that morning, but I hadn't seen it because I rarely checked my work account—the only reason I saw it now was because Paul came by my station to ask me if I received an email he had sent me.
I checked it and told him I received it, and he walked away before I focused on the one Courtney had sent. There was written text and an attachment for a video, and it wasn't until I had read the email and opened the attached video that I realized I needed privacy and maybe even an oxygen mask.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Morning swim
Hey girlie,
So I don’t want you to think I'm sitting here spying on your man because I'm not. It's just that every morning, he comes over for a swim, and this morning, I happened to be walking by the monitor when he got out of the pool.
Thankfully, my husband was here, and he showed me how to extract the clip so that I could send it to you. You have your cousin to thank for the attached gloriousness. Isaac swims for quite a while, but the video's short since I just got part of him getting out. I know Isaac knows we have security cameras in the house, but he doesn't know I'm sending you the clip. Hope he doesn't mind. I know you won't. lol. Call me or text me later. We wanted to have y'all over this weekend. Isaac said you have plans Friday with Liam and your parents, but maybe Saturday.
Love you bunches!
Courtney
I read that email and instantly scrolled to the bottom to download the attached video. It might not have been the best timing. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and we were bustling around the newsroom getting ready for this 6 o'clock show.
I had just read the email right before Greg sat down in my chair. I was staring down at it, thinking I could just watch it real quick right there in front of everyone, but once the video loaded, I realized I wanted privacy. My face flushed and my heart began beating like crazy.
I excused myself, saying I'd be right back. I put the phone in my pocket and went to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall.
The video was only thirty seconds long.
It started with Isaac swimming a lap in the pool. I blinked at the screen, watching with wide eyes as he moved quickly through the water, stopping once his hand touched the wall. He lingered by the side of the pool, catching his breath for a few seconds before propping his hands on the ground and lifting himself out of the pool using his upper body. I watched him emerge shirtless from the pool, water dripping from his body in the most magnificent way possible.
By instinct, I pinched the screen of my phone, trying to zoom in, but it didn't work. Isaac had on tight-fitting knee-length swim trunks, that made him look like he belonged in the Olympics and not my cousin's pool.
All this time, I had known he was going over there, but I never knew he looked like a lifeguard under his clothes. I stared at him on the screen, wondering why I hadn't asked Courtney if we could all go swimming at her house sometime just for fun.
Isaac walked over to a nearby table where he took his towel, and began drying off, starting with his face and hair before moving to his chest and arms. The video was kind of far away, and he was at the very edge of the screen by the time he walked over to the table, but still, I could clearly see the definition of his muscles. His chest, abs, arms, back, and legs—his body was lined with perfectly toned muscles.
The video cut off once he stooped to dry his legs, and I blinked at the screen, wishing with all my might that there was more. In fact, I wish there was a live stream that I could watch every morning. What a way to wake up.
I leaned my head against the bathroom stall, feeling wrecked from the adrenaline of what I had just seen. I had been with Isaac every day for the past three weeks. I knew he was a sight to behold. But goodness gracious, the vision of his chest as he pulled himself out of that pool was enough to give a woman heart palpitations.
I pressed play and watched the whole video again. I stared at the screen—the way he moved expertly through the pool, then a brief moment next to the side before he turned and lifted his awe-inspiring, muscle lined body out of the pool, looking like a professional athlete and a swimsuit model all rolled into one. The water dripped off of his hair and body, and I watched as he took the towel, drying his hair and face before the rest of his body.
"Shelby?"
I hadn't even heard the bathroom door open, so the sound of someone yelling my name startled me. I nearly dropped my phone, and I had to juggle it for a second to keep it from falling to the ground.
"Shelby?" I heard her say again.
"Yeah?" I called.
"Oh, okay, we didn’t know where you were. Greg's in your chair."
"I'll be there in just a second!" I yelled. I reached out with my leg, using my foot to flush the toilet. I carefully forwarded the email and the attachment to my personal Gmail account before deleting it from my work email just because I didn't want any of the IT guys seeing it—not that it was anything obscene or embarrassing; I just didn't want anybody besides me seeing it. I wanted to respond to Courtney, but I couldn’t think of what to say now that I knew everybody was waiting for me in the newsroom.
It was Cindy who had called my name in the bathroom. I knew this because she was waiting by the door for me when I emerged. She had been on break for the last two hours and had just come back for the six o'clock show. It was Greg's turn in my chair, but Cindy was in a chatty mood, and she followed me to my station, talking the whole time.
Apparently, she had just come back from a coffee date with some big, up and coming fashion vloger named Bryce Carrington who was, in her opinion, the best thing to hit Memphis since Elvis. I went on with my work, prepping Greg while Cindy stood at my station, telling us all the details of her fabulous coffee date.
"I asked him about your brother's girlfriend," she said, talking about Taylor. "He said she's the real deal. He's all excited about her opening a store here."
"How'd he know she was opening a store?" I asked. I glanced at Cindy, trying to remember if I had told her Liam bought that building for Taylor. I didn't think I had mentioned it to her since we really didn't talk all that much about my family and personal life.
"Bryce knows everything," she said. "At least with fashion. He said he went by the building and saw construction going on."
I nodded. "They're fixing it up."
"Do you know when she's gonna be open."
I shook my head. "No, I don't. It might be a while. You'll have to tell him to ask her."
"I think he's trying to talk to her. I told him I worked with you, so he might get in touch with you to see if you can hook him up for a few questions."
I shook my head at her as if I wasn't looking forward to dealing with him and didn't really want to make Taylor uncomfortable, and she just smiled and waved her hand at me dismissively. "He's not some hack," she said. "He knows what he's talking about and he's got like a million followers."
"I didn't say he's a hack," I said. "I just don't usually ask Taylor about interviews and stuff. She's my brother's girlfriend. We don't really talk about business."
"She's not gonna mind talking to him," Cindy said confidently. "She probably knows of him already. He knows everybody in town."
He doesn't know me, I thought inwardly.
"He doesn't know me," Greg said out loud, causing me to smile.
"He knows all the cool people," Cindy said. "He was telling me all about Courtney's building. Apparently, they're gonna offer a class in fashion design. Did you know that? He's gonna apply to teach it. He's already downloaded the application from the website. I told him you knew Courtney, too, so he's really pumped to meet you now. He's hoping to connect with her and Taylor both."
She paused as if expecting me to say something.
"Cool," I said noncommittally.
Greg got out of my chair, and Cindy sat in it, making herself comfortable. Her hair was still mostly in place from the 12 o'clock show, so
I didn't even have to think about what I was doing.
"Are you interested in this guy?" I asked, smiling and lifting my eyebrows at her playfully even though I didn't really feel playful.
"No, she said laughing. "Bryce? No. He's not my type. Really flamboyant. You'll see what I'm talking about when you meet him. He's so cool, though. He knows everybody. That architect, Isaac, who's designing Courtney's building came in to the coffee shop when we were there, and Bryce even knew him."
The mention of Isaac caused my heart to drop.
"He doesn't know him know him, but he met him one time when Isaac was out to lunch with Mayor Bennett. I'm telling you, he has connections with everybody in this town. You'd be smart to be the one to introduce him to Taylor and Courtney. They'd probably thank you for it."
I came extremely close to saying that Isaac and I were seeing each other, but I was so agitated and taken off guard that I knew I would come across as nervous and unsure of myself, so I just stood there, working on her hair.
"I told Bryce I was waiting on Isaac to call me, and he said he saw him with a woman at a restaurant the other night. He said it looked like a date."
My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel myself blushing all over again.
"It's all right, though," she added laughing. "He said she was pretty plain. He said I could totally take her."
"Take her at what?" I asked feeling angry and brave. "A beauty pageant?"
She laughed again. "In anything, I guess. He said she was out to dinner with her hair in a messy bun wearing a sweatshirt and jeans."
I knew exactly what night he had seen us. We had decided at the last minute to go out for dinner, and I hadn't thought twice about my hair or my outfit. How was I to know the fashion police were going to be after me?
"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I said even though it was completely out of character for me to be rude. "It's been a long time since you gave him your number, and he hasn't called."
The Harder They Fall Page 11