“Wow, this looks great!” she exclaimed.
Ricky had been working so hard on his project for weeks. He’d hypothesized the best designs for skyscrapers, drawn up blueprints, and then built mini-models out of Legos.
“Thanks.”
His monotone response didn’t surprise her. He didn’t get happy…or upset about much of anything.
She ruffled his hair as she passed by him on her way to start dinner. “How does Hamburger Helper sound?”
“Fine,” his answer was flat and automatic.
She was pretty sure she could’ve asked how cauliflower and cabbage sounded and his answer would’ve been the same.
It might seem in a side-by-side comparison that Ricky sitting in the well-lit kitchen, reading a book and being polite was more well-adjusted than KJ holed up in a dark, dingy, room staring at a screen, and being disrespectful, but out of the two boys she wasn’t sure which one worried her most.
At least KJ expressed himself, even if it wasn’t in a healthy or productive way. Ricky held everything in. He was quiet, did his homework, helped her at the rental shop, and always did his chores without being asked.
For the first few months after Patrick died, she was so grief-stricken and Ricky’s easy demeanor was a blessing compared to his brother’s. She never had to worry about him getting in a fight, flunking a class, or being detained for destruction of property. But lately she’d grown more concerned. Both boys were in therapy, but she wasn’t sure it was helping. Or maybe she wasn’t doing enough. Maybe she was failing them both.
Her mind was consumed with doubt as she bent down and retrieved her six-quart pot and set it in the sink and turned on the water. As she watched the water rise an all too familiar guilt rose up like bile in her throat. What if everything she was doing was wrong?
That was the biggest difference between being and aunt and a parent. It wasn’t that her life no longer belonged to herself, or that she had to budget in a way she’d never dreamed of, or that there never seemed to be enough hours in the day. It was the constant second-guessing. The constant worry and anxiety. The constant doubt about whether or not the decisions she was making were the right ones. The constant fear that she was dropping the ball and doing irreparable damage.
No. No time for that. She blinked back tears as she pushed those thoughts from her mind and went into survival auto-pilot, a mode she’d lived in for the past year and a half.
She set the pot on the stove and turned the knob igniting the burner. Then she moved to the laundry room and pulled the clothes out of the dryer before replacing them with the wet clothes on deck in the washing machine. She carefully synchronized slamming the door and pressing the on button at the same time. It was the only way to start the damn thing. It had to be jarred at the exact same second that she pushed the button. She’d figured out the trick after the first time it hadn’t roared to life and out of sheer frustration she’d began kicking it and slamming her hand against the button. It had started running and since then it was the only way to get the thing to work.
Resting the basket of laundry now heaping with freshly laundered garments on her hip, she headed out of the room and caught her reflection in the mirror across the hall and stopped up short. She looked haggard.
Her long honey blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, emphasis on the messy, there were dark circles beneath her eyes and her cheeks were hollowed out. Her clothes were hanging on her frame that was fifteen pounds lighter than it had been before her brother passed. Between taking care of the boys and running Whisper Lake Rentals and trying to keep up with the cleaning and repairs on this nearly one-hundred-year-old house, she never had time to take care of herself.
She let out a harsh puff of breath and revoked her one-way pass to Pity Town. She didn’t have time to visit there. Tonight, when she lay her head on the pillow, that’s when she’d let herself go and hit up all her favorite places: The Why Me Store. This Can’t Be My Life Shop. Feeling Sorry For Yourself Boutique. She was a regular customer at all three emotional destinations. But she only visited after the boys were in bed. When her responsibilities were taken care of for the day.
With renewed determination to pull herself together, she hummed as she headed up the stairs to fold and disperse the clean clothes. Sometimes it fooled her mind into thinking she was happy. If she sang or if she hummed, her mood instantly lifted no matter how much her life was imploding around her.
She hadn’t made it to the third step or finished the chorus of Bruno Mars’ “Finesse” when she heard a loud knock at the door. The unexpected sound caused her to jump and the basket fell from her hands in a start and the freshly cleaned clothes scattered on the steps that hadn’t been vacuumed in…she didn’t remember how long.
Staring down at the T-shirts, socks, and boxer briefs she made an executive decision. The thought of doing another load of laundry today was just too much to bear. So, enacting the five-second rule she quickly scooped up the T-shirts, socks, and boxer briefs.
The open-up-it’s-the-police knock came again and she set the white plastic basket on the landing as she turned toward the front door. Her stomach churned in dread. The last three unexpected visitors had all come to tell her of some trouble KJ had been involved in.
“What now?” Her shoulders dropped as she walked to the door, feeling much like she was walking the plank.
Patrick still had some good friends in this town, namely Deputy Sheriff Ethan Steele, who tried his best to keep KJ out of serious trouble. But the boy was blowing through his Get Out of Jail Free cards, and she knew that it was just a matter of time before her nephew did something that even Ethan couldn’t help him out of.
Knowing that she couldn’t face the bearer of bad news with a defeated attitude, she closed her eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath as she turned the knob and opened the door. She was glad she had, because when she opened the door, all of the oxygen in her lungs was sucked out.
She blinked twice in shock, not believing what she was seeing. On her porch stood the only man—other than her brother—that she’d ever depended on. The only man she’d ever loved and the one and only man to ever break her heart. The man whose name she hadn’t even been able to utter for the past eighteen months. The man who shared legal custody of her nephews but had disappeared off the face of the earth and left her to pick up all the pieces. The man who also happened to be the sexiest, hottest, most infuriatingly charming man she’d ever known.
Kade Jameson McKnight.
The sun was backlighting him like some kind of angel except she knew different. If he had a halo, there were horns holding it up.
Her vision went as hazy as a bathroom mirror after a hot shower but the first thing that came into focus were two deep sea-green eyes staring at her beneath a bed of dark lashes that she knew kissed his cheek when his lids were closed. As the fog dissipated, she noticed that his thick, dark hair was a little longer and more unruly than he normally wore it. And there was a significant amount of stubble covering his square jaw giving him a bad boy edge, not that he needed any help in that category.
He wore a faded black cotton shirt that molded to his Adonis chest like he was shrink-wrapped in it. His jeans were faded and worn in all the right places. Black boots and a leather wristband that he’d worn since she’d given it to him at sixteen completed the holy-hotness package. Slung over his shoulder was a large gym bag, which she knew was his idea of luggage.
When the entire picture became clear her mind short-circuited. Her arms and legs began shaking like leaves. Her lungs were trying to take in oxygen but she felt like there was none to be had. And her mind was spinning like a top on an ice rink.
She didn’t know if she wanted to hit him or hug him. Or both.
In an effort to play it cool, she tried to sound detached and unimpressed at his arrival as she asked, “What are you doing here?”
Her question sparked a smile that spread on his handsome face and the sight caused her heart to leap in her c
hest as a wave of tingles spread through her from head to toe.
Ali didn’t understand how she could both love someone and hate them at the same time. But there was no doubt…she did.
Available Here
Other Titles by Melanie Shawn
THE CROSSROADS SERIES
My First – Book 1
My Last – Book 2
My Only – Book 3
My Everything – Book 4
Tempting Love – Book 5
Crazy Love – Book 6
Actually Love – Book 7
Fairytale Love – Book 8
My Love – Novella 8.5
All He Wants – Book 9
All He Needs – Book 10
All He Feels – Book 11
All He Desires – Book 12
Just One Night – Book 13
Just One Kiss – Book 14
Just One Look – Book 15
THE HOPE FALLS SERIES
Sweet Reunion – #1
Sweet Harmonies – #2
Sweet Victory – #3
Home Sweet Home – #4
One Sweet Day – Novella #4.5
Snow Angel – #5
Snow Days – #6
Snowed In – #7
Let It Snow – #8
Perfect Kiss – #9
Secret Kiss – #10
Magic Kiss – #11
Lucky Kiss – #12
Christmas Wish – Holiday Novella #12.5
Fire and Love – #13
Fire and Foreplay – #14
Fire and Romance – #15
Fire and Temptation – #16
WISHING WELL, TEXAS SERIES
Teasing Destiny – Book 1
Convincing Cara – Book 2
Discovering Harmony – Book 3
Taming Travis – Book 4
Claiming Colton – Book 5
Trusting Bryson – Book 6
Seducing Sawyer – Book 7
Unwrapping Jade – Book 8
STEAMY WEEKENDS SERIES
Charming Cupid
Seducing Cinderella
Resisting Romeo
VALENTINE BAY SERIES
Protecting My Heart – Book 1
Rescuing His Heart – Book 2
Rocking Her Heart – Book 3
Playing By Heart – Book 4
Unbreak My Heart – Book 5
WHISPER LAKE SERIES
Whisper of Love – Book 1
Whisper of Surrender – Book 2
Whisper of Attraction – Book 3
Whisper of Temptation – Book 4
PLAYING THE GAME SERIES
Playing With Attraction – Book 1
About the Author
Melanie Shawn is the writing team of sister duo Melanie and Shawna. Originally from Northern California, they both migrated south and now call So Cal their home.
Growing up, Melanie constantly had her head in a book and was always working on short stories, manuscripts, plays and poetry. After graduating magna cum laude from Pepperdine University, she went on to teach grades second through eighth for five years. She now spends her days writing and taking care of her furry baby, a Lhasa Apso named Hercules. In her free time, her favorite activity is to curl up on the couch with that stubborn, funny mutt and binge-watch cable TV shows on DVD (preferably of at least eight seasons in length – a girl’s gotta have her standards!).
Shawna always loved romance in any form – movie, song or literary. If it was a love story with a happy ending, Shawna was all about it! She proudly acknowledges that she is a romanceaholic. Her days are jam-packed with writing, being a wife, mom aka referee of two teens, and indulging in her second passion (dance!) as a Zumba instructor. In the little free time she has, she joins Melanie in marathon-watching DVDs of their favorite TV programs.
They have joined forces to create a world where True Love and Happily Ever After always has a Sexy Twist!
You can keep up with all the latest Melanie Shawn news, including new releases and contests, at:
melanieshawn.com
and
facebook.com/melanieshawnbooks
Panty Dropper Page 33