A Sky Full of Stars

by Samantha Chase

  Slowly, reverently, he touched the screen, as if touching her face. “I miss you, Mom,” he said quietly. “Every day.”

  So many times he wondered what she would think of him now—had he grown into the kind of adult she would be proud of? Would she be tired of listening to him spout scientific facts and statistics? Or would she feel sad to see how he was still struggling with being social? Or disappointed because he was so different from his siblings?

  He knew the answer to all of those questions.

  She’d be proud of him. She’d love listening to him, and she’d encourage him every chance she got and tell him that she would never be disappointed in him.

  Because she loved him and accepted him. Always.

  And at that moment, he wished there was another woman who would do the same.

  * * *

  “I…I don’t understand,” Brooke said, staring at Owen with wide eyes.

  “I think it would be best if you didn’t go to Red Rock with me.”

  “But…why?” She was completely confused. They had been having an amazing day—they’d gone to the museum in the morning and enjoyed the smaller crowds since it was a Thursday, and then they’d gone out for lunch. Afterward they had gone to the planetarium, and Brooke was enjoying the cosmic wonder show they were watching.

  Until now.

  “I just feel it’s something I need to do on my own,” he said, but his eyes were on the screen.

  She wanted to scream and demand to know why and why he had chosen right now—in the middle of a movie!—to tell her this. Her first instinct was to get up and storm out, but she wouldn’t. For starters, she hated to make a scene. And second, she wasn’t going to let him ignore her input. She’d make him explain himself—to her face—when the film was over.

  So she sat and silently fumed. No matter how hard she tried, Brooke couldn’t get back into the movie, and her mind raced trying to come up with why he was doing this. What had changed? What had she done wrong to make him want to push her away?

  Was she too clingy because of her uncle’s illness?

  Was she making too many demands on his time?

  Or pushing him for more of a commitment?

  Hell no, to all of them! If anything, he had been the one pushing for their time together! Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but in the beginning it had all been him. He had wanted her to go home to meet his family, and he was the one who insisted on staying with her when her uncle had gotten out of the hospital. So then why turn her away now?

  She looked around and wondered when the hell this movie was going to end, glaring at Owen out of the corner of her eye. He seemed completely unfazed. Like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on her.

  When the lights finally came on, Brooke calmly picked up her purse and walked out of the theater a few feet ahead of Owen. They walked in silence until they were outside the planetarium, and then she quickly made her way to one of the benches before she turned and faced him.

  “What the hell, Owen?” she demanded and felt a kick of satisfaction when he paled slightly. “What’s going on with you? Why would you say something like that to me in the middle of a movie?”

  “I…um…” He began to nervously look around. “Can we… Let’s find someplace else to talk.”

  “Like another movie theater? No, thank you.”

  “Look, you know I tend to say exactly what I’m thinking. I’m sorry I did it the way I did. That was wrong.”

  Well…at least he knows it, she thought.

  “Can we go someplace where it’s more private?” he asked, taking her hands in his.

  And there it was again—something in his eyes, and she heard it in his voice. Something was going on, and she wanted to deny it. Ignore it. Pretend she didn’t notice. Without answering, she tugged him toward the sidewalk and quickly hailed a cab. Once inside, she gave the driver the name of Owen’s hotel.

  Owen looked at her quizzically but said nothing. Their fingers were still entwined, and she gave him a sexy smile. And that seemed to confuse him even more.

  They drove in silence.

  They walked through the hotel lobby in silence.

  They rode up in the elevator in silence.

  When they were in Owen’s room, he said her name, but she quickly put her finger over his lips to silence him.

  “I don’t want to talk,” she said, leaning in close so when she moved her fingers, their lips were almost touching. “I missed you last night. And right now, I need you.”

  Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was a little manipulative. But it was also the truth. She had missed him—missed the warmth of him sleeping beside her, the feel of his arms around her. And she had a feeling that if they started talking, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. So she was stalling. Avoiding. But that didn’t for one minute minimize that she truly needed this right now.

  Him.

  Owen swallowed hard, his gaze dark and serious. “Brooke—”

  “Please,” she whispered. “Just…please.”

  All hell broke loose after that. She loved this about him—loved to make him lose control. While she loved it when he was tender and sweet with her—when their lovemaking was tender and sweet—she loved unleashing the beast in him even more.

  His hand fisted in her hair, and he tugged, her head falling back to expose the slender column of her neck. Then his mouth was there, and she couldn’t help but moan. When Owen’s other arm banded around her waist and she was pressed up against him from head to toe, she knew she’d made the right decision.

  This wouldn’t solve anything.

  It certainly didn’t mean she had forgotten what he’d said earlier.

  But right now it was everything she wanted.

  He was everything she wanted.

  * * *

  Owen held her close as they both tried to catch their breath.

  Brooke was exhausted and sweaty, her heart was racing, and she felt completely boneless. And she couldn’t help the smile on her face.

  He kissed the top of her head before he rolled away from her and sat up. She was about to question what he was doing, but she watched as he stood, walked over to the mini-fridge, and pulled out two bottles of water. Handing one to her, he climbed back onto the bed and under the sheet with her—but he didn’t touch her.

  They drank in silence, and Brooke knew—she just knew—this was it.

  She hadn’t changed anything.

  She had simply delayed the inevitable.

  “Brooke…”

  Straightening, she took a steadying breath and braced herself for whatever it was he had to say.

  “How do you feel about me?” he asked, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was studying the bottle of water in his hands.

  “Seriously? After what we just shared, you have to ask?” she said teasingly.

  But he didn’t laugh.

  Didn’t even crack a smile.

  “I’m serious. How do you feel about me? Us? This relationship?”

  Reaching over, Brooke took one of his hands in hers and kissed it. “I’m crazy about you, Owen. I love being with you and I miss you when we’re not together. What’s going on? What’s this all about?”

  She wanted to tell him she was in love with him—had been practically since the beginning—but she didn’t want to scare him off. She had a feeling he was a flight risk at this point.

  Turning his head, he looked at her. His expression was sad. “When you were doing your volunteer work in the schools, did you ever meet anyone like me?”

  That was an unexpected turn. “Like you?”

  He nodded. “You know…quiet. Shy. Socially awkward.”

  She made a face at him. “You keep using that phrase, and I don’t believe it applies to you. Shy, yes. Awkward, no. You do just fine in social situations, Owen.�
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  He slowly pulled his hand away. “So…did you?”

  As much as she couldn’t understand why, she knew he wasn’t going to let this go. “Of course. That was my goal—I told you that. I worked with the kids who were quiet and having trouble fitting in. They were all great kids who just needed a little encouragement.”

  “And what did you do to encourage them?” he asked quietly.

  Her back stiffened a little. What exactly was he implying? “I taught them how to draw and paint. I encouraged them to use their creativity to speak to others.”

  Owen nodded. “Did you date any of them?”

  Ah… Now she got it.

  And it pissed her off.

  Jumping from the bed, Brooke stalked naked across the room and began getting dressed. As soon as her panties were on and her bra was in place, she looked at him. “Most of them were under the age of fifteen,” she snapped. “I was twenty-three. So no, Owen, I didn’t date any of them.”

  She quickly finished dressing and noticed he hadn’t moved from the bed. And it just angered her more.

  “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m looking at you as a way to ease my guilt over how I treated my brother? That’s just sick, Owen. You know that, right?” she cried, and when he didn’t answer, she wanted to scream. “For your information, I haven’t done volunteer work in a couple of years. It was very emotional for me, and the hoops I had to jump through with the school systems made it nearly impossible to do any good. And it occurred to me I was doing it for the wrong reasons. As much as I knew I wanted to do it to show these kids that they were special and it didn’t matter if the popular kids liked them or if they had a ton of friends, the truth was I was doing it to try to redeem myself! I was the mean girl! I was that bitch everyone looks back on and says how much they hated! And no matter how many kids I taught to draw and like themselves, I couldn’t change what I’d done, and I couldn’t bring my brother back!”

  She scooped up her purse and slid on her shoes before she faced him again.

  “I never saw you as anything except a man I wanted to know, a man I wanted to spend time with. You were never a scientist to me or a project or a way to assuage my guilt—you were always Owen. I love that you’re shy! I love that you blush when I smile at you! Damn it, Owen, I love you!” Then she snorted with disgust. “But the joke’s on me because it was all one-sided. Talk about reverse snobbery.”

  “Brooke,” he began, but there was little behind his voice.

  “No,” she interrupted. “It’s true. You can sit here in judgment of me for who I am—or who I was. And I get it because I still do it to myself all the damn time. But at the same time that you’re judging me, you’re doing the exact same thing you claim others did to you.” She took a step toward the bed, her hand over her rapidly beating heart. “I know the things I did, and I have to live with them every day for the rest of my life. I don’t need you sitting here waiting for me to do it to you.”

  Owen went to stand, but she put a hand out to stop him.

  “Don’t!” she snapped and willed her tears that were starting to blind her not to fall. “Just…don’t. You don’t have to worry, Owen. I won’t be at Red Rock. I won’t bother you. You don’t have to worry about me trying to fix you.” Then she turned and walked toward the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she looked at him one last time. “There was never anything wrong with you that needed to be fixed.”

  Chapter 11

  Two days later, Owen looked up as his father walked into the room carrying a large, dusty box.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  Ian Shaughnessy smiled as he placed the box down on the living room floor. “I decided to go into the attic and see what we might have up there for the kids. I’m all for buying new toys, but I thought it might be fun to see if your favorites were packed away.”

  Owen had decided to check out of his hotel in Chicago early and come to North Carolina to see his family before heading to Red Rock. It seemed like a good time to get away—and it was a good distraction to help take his mind off of Brooke.

  Except…she was all he could think about.

  Maybe his father’s trek up to the attic would help.

  “So what did you find?”

  Sitting beside him, Ian clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I have no idea, but it says Toys on the side in your mom’s handwriting, so I’m hoping we’ll find some good stuff in here.”

  Ian opened the box, and Owen looked on in wonder. Here was something tangible—something his mother had touched, put her hands on—that no one had touched since. “I thought you went through the attic after Connor was born?”

  “I did. But it was for baby furniture for the nursery. That attic is like a black hole. It’s big and dark and holds all kinds of treasures. But it’s a lot to do on my own. So I’ll admit, I didn’t look for anything other than furniture.”

  Owen nodded and then watched as his father began to pull out items.

  Toy trucks, trains, and cars. A jack-in-the box, a plastic baseball bat…

  “Connor will love all of those,” he said, imagining his nephew playing with the toys. “It will be nice for him to have a collection of toys here so Hugh and Aubrey don’t have to bring so much with them every time.”

  Ian looked over at him and smiled. “My thoughts exactly.” Then he turned and went back to pulling items out of the box. “I was hoping there’d be some stuff in here for Lily, but this box is from you and your brothers. Unless…” He fished around and smiled as he pulled out a crown and held it up victoriously.

  “You think Lily will like it?”

  Placing the crown on the table, Ian reached into the box again. “Not just the crown, but…” He pulled out a felt cowboy hat and then a sword, placing them all on the coffee table. “Costumes! I was hoping to make them a treasure chest filled with costumes the kids could use for dress-up.”

  Owen chuckled. “That would be nice. You’ll have to go back up to the attic and see if you can find a box of Darcy’s things. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of costumes up in there. Seems like I remember her always wearing something.”

  Ian laughed with him. “You all went through that phase. Sports uniforms, cowboys, Indians, superheroes…you kids dressed like them all.”

  Owen smiled at the memory. “Riley and I were just talking about that the other night.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “We talked about how Mom used to call us—”

  “Superman and Clark Kent,” Ian interrupted, smiling at the memory. “You two fit the bill on that. Riley in his cape, jumping around on the furniture, and you studiously reading a book with your glasses on.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “I believe there’s a photo album somewhere with the pictures from the Halloween your mom dressed the two of you like that. Everyone thought it was so clever.”

  Looking back now, Owen could see why. But at the time… “I always wanted to be Superman.”

  Ian looked at his son. “You did?”

  He nodded. “Riley always took the cape.” It sounded ridiculous to keep saying that as a grown man. Then he shrugged. “It was who we were destined to be, I guess.” He hoped he sounded humorous, but when he looked up at his father, Ian’s expression was serious.

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Dad, I know Riley isn’t Superman—”

  “Pretty damn close sometimes,” he countered. “But…do you think we—your mother and I—do you think we pushed you into those roles? Those stereotypes?”

  “Like I said, it was who we were destined to be. I was always studious. I never wanted to do the things Riley or Aidan or Hugh or Quinn wanted to do. I wasn’t athletic or social. I didn’t like the spotlight on me.”

  Ian reached over and patted him on the knee. “I’m afraid you get that from me.”

  “
I know.”

  Pushing the box aside, Ian shifted on the sofa until he was fully facing Owen. “Your mother was the one with the big personality.” He shook his head. “I never understood what she saw in me. I was serious and studious…always wanted to do what was practical rather than what was fun.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Dad. You were responsible. You had to be. You had six kids to take care of.”

  “No…I understand that. But we didn’t start out with six kids. I was like that even before we got married.”

  That was surprising, Owen thought. He’d never much thought about his parents before they were parents. “Really?”

  Ian nodded. “I was never quite as smart as you,” he said with a chuckle. “I was always in awe of your intellect. But I always had my nose in a book. While my friends were out on Friday and Saturday nights, I was home reading.”

  “You had to leave sometimes,” Owen commented. “Otherwise you never would have met mom.”

  A slow smile crossed Ian’s face. “I went to visit my grandparents the week after I graduated high school. She was visiting her grandparents who lived on the same block.” When he looked at Owen again, his eyes were a bit misty. “I took one look at her…and I knew. I just knew she was the girl for me.”

  “How could you know? You…you hadn’t even talked to her.” There was an urgency to his question because he’d felt a similar reaction the first time he’d seen Brooke.

  “Owen, you and I are not men who believe in whimsy or things we can’t prove. We’re practical and realistic. But I can tell you this—that day when I first laid eyes on your mother, I believed that dreams come true. I believed in love at first sight. And I believed in the power of wishing on a star and the possibility of fairy tales.” He paused for a moment. “Your mom made me believe in all of those things.”

  Owen thought for a moment, and it didn’t take long for him to conclude that he understood 100 percent—Brooke had made him feel those things as well. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “How…” Owen paused for a minute to collect his thoughts. “If Mom was so different from you, how did… I mean… What did you say when you first talked to her?”