by Emily Bishop
“What do you want to know?” Her expression was guarded, as if she was uncertain about talking to me about him.
“Anything?”
“Well.” She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, pausing with a faraway look in her eyes. “He raised me as a single father. He did his best.”
I sensed that there was a lot more to that last part of her statement but also that she would tell me what it was when she was ready. “Where’s your mom?”
Tears sprang unexpectedly into her eyes. “She passed away when I was four. Brain cancer.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I slid over to her side of the booth and wrapped my arms around her. She let me hold her, taking a few deep breaths to regain her composure before pulling away.
“No, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. It just still hits me sometimes, you know?” Her voice was soft and filled with emotion.
“I think that’s perfectly normal.” The waitress arrived with our food just as I said it, placing our dishes and beer in front of us. Fiona looked grateful for the interruption, which I took as a sign that she needed a few minutes of silence to gather her thoughts.
After the first few bites of the pie, she smiled again, even if it was a small smile. “This pie is delicious.”
“I’m glad that you like it,” I said. “It’s become one of my favorite foods.”
“You’re going to have to go climbing every day if you eat it too often,” she teased lightly.
I was relieved that the moment of sadness had passed. I would’ve had no idea how to comfort her, other than the hug I’d already given.
She still had shadows in her eyes, but I didn’t expect that those would go away quite as quickly as she’d managed to rally herself outwardly.
“I run every day.” I smirked and patted my flat stomach. “And I row. So, I think I’m allowed a pie every once in a while as a reward.”
Her eyes fell to the hand on my stomach for a second, then found my eyes again. “I think you might be right about that. In fact, you should eat more pie.”
“More pie it is.” I dug in and practically inhaled the rest of my food.
After our plates were cleared and our beers refilled, Fiona leaned back in the booth with a strange expression fixed on her beautiful features. She stared at me like I was a puzzle again, watching me closely.
“You still want to hear about my family?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“After my mom passed away, my dad threw himself into his work. He had his own company back in Conroe, in the oilfield service industry.”
I froze when she said the words, immediately knowing how her story would end. It was one that I’d heard dozens of times. I just couldn’t believe that I was hearing it from Fiona. I braced myself for what was coming next.
“Anyway, he worked almost exclusively for one client. His company went belly up when the client dropped him overnight with no warning. The client was Perkins Enterprises. Have you heard of it?”
My mind split into two warring sides. One wanted to tell her the truth. The other argued on the side of my dick, which wanted to be inside her. “No, I don’t think that I have.”
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it much. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and she sucked in a quiet breath before her expression returned to neutral.
I inclined my head at our empty glasses and the equally empty pitcher. “You want to get out of here?”
She didn’t say anything for a beat, then nodded. “Sure.”
On the way out of the pub, I rested my hand on the small of her back and felt the slight shiver that ran through her. It was a satisfying feeling, knowing that such a light touch caused her to react like that.
It also catapulted my mind to a very dirty place, wondering how responsive she would be to me in bed. I had a feeling it could be explosive between us. I couldn’t wait to test my theory.
The drive back to her place passed in relative silence. I kept sneaking glances at her, barely able to keep my eyes on the road. Her skin looked flawless in the dim light, and my fingers twitched with their desire to touch her.
I parked the car and laced my fingers through hers as I walked her to her door, keeping her close to my side.
She turned to me when we reached her porch, not letting go of my hand. I took that as a good sign.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I had a lot of fun.”
I nodded. “So did I, but it’s still early. We could have some more fun.”
It was obvious, direct, and a completely lame line but I wanted her, and I knew that she wanted me, too. Or at least I thought that she did.
I reached up and brushed her cheek with the backs of my fingers, our eyes locked on one another. I leaned down, my mouth inches away from hers. Her lips parted. I went to close the last bit of distance between us, almost tasting her already.
Then, she shut me down.
Chapter Nine
Fiona
I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and to press my lips to Shane’s. To taste him. To wind my arms around his neck and shove my hands into his hair. I ached for it.
But I couldn’t do it, for so many reasons. I stepped back from him. He looked at me, surprised, and dropped his arms to his sides.
“Fiona?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“I’m really sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to lead you on. But I can’t do this.” The words felt as empty as they sounded but it was the best I could do.
“Of course you can. Why not?” His voice was low and thick with desire. It was probably the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.
I wanted him so damn badly. And I actually kind of liked him, despite myself. It wasn’t like rejecting him was easy for me but I had to do it. Didn’t I?
“I don’t even really know you, Shane. You could be anyone for all that I know.” I tried to explain myself, even I knew that I didn’t have to. I wanted him to understand, at least a little.
He squeezed my hand and pulled me nearer to him again. “I’m not anyone. I’m Shane. The same Shane you argued with about building boats for weeks. The man that you fished with. That you just spent hours climbing with and opening up to.”
He was also the same Shane who had returned a lost child to his mother, saved two teenage girls from certain injury, and comforted me when I’d been overcome by a sudden wave of emotion when I told him about my mother.
Before that, he was also the same guy who kept me from falling into the water, helped me with my fish, and left the hardware store without argument when I’d asked him to.
“If you don’t want this, Fiona, tell me now,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb across my bottom lip.
“It’s not that, I just...” I trailed off, shaking my head.
His intense, darkened gaze and the feel of his rough pad on the sensitive skin of my lip was making it impossible to concentrate.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “How about this? We’ll compromise. You let me kiss you, and if you want to, you can kiss me back.”
“How is that a compromise?” My voice was soft but even I could hear the uncertainty in it. It was very clearly not the firm “no” that I should have been giving him.
“Maybe it’s not. Let’s do it anyway.”
God, the man did things to me that had no explanation whatsoever, other than pure, unadulterated lust.
“Okay.” The word surprised me but I was done fighting it. I wanted him to kiss me. Even if it was only this once that I gave in to it. I could beat myself up over it later.
The next second, his hand was at the nape of my neck, gripping my hair tightly, and his lips crashed onto mine. He tasted like craft beer and mint and something uniquely him. His mouth moved with expert precision. His smooth tongue glided against the seam of my lips.
As soon as I parted for him, he darted in. Sparks flew in every direction. The world slowly disappeared around us, along with all of my worries and all of th
e reasons why I shouldn’t be kissing him. He made me feel like none of that mattered.
I honestly never knew a kiss could be so intimate and electrifying. Our lips were moving in perfect sync. One of his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss became deeper, more passionate.
Finally abandoning all the reservations that I could no longer remember, I threw my arms around his neck and tugged at the tips of his hair. My body pressed flush to his, and I kissed him back with everything that I had.
He groaned. A low, primal noise that lit up my body like a Christmas tree and made my heart race. I was lost in him, lost in the feel of his lips on mine.
Then, a car started in the neighbor’s driveway and brought reality crashing back down.
We both panted as we broke apart. The heat in his eyes as he rested his forehead against mine was enough to make me seriously question what I was about to do. But it had to be done.
“I’m sorry, Shane. I can’t do this.” My words were a quiet whisper against his lips. With a soft peck at the corner of his mouth, I turned away from him and rushed into my house.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why the hell did I let him kiss me?
I could still taste him on my lips. Sensual and delicious. A part of me wanted to rush outside and catch him before he left but the part of me that knew it would be a mistake was stronger. I sagged against my door, still trying to catch my breath.
I finally managed to get control of myself and the insults my subconscious was slinging at me for my weakness over giving in to him. I dragged my tired ass to bed and tossed and turned all night, despite my exhaustion.
When morning finally rolled round, I dragged myself out of bed. My body felt sluggish from my troubled sleep, and my mind was still as confused as a cat trying to catch a laser. I trudged into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, then slid into a chair by the table.
I rubbed my eyes to get the sand out of them while I waited for coffee. As tired as I was, the same doubting questions from the night before crept into my skull. I had absolutely no idea what to think or how to feel about Shane and that kiss that I couldn’t forget.
On the one hand, he was sweet, funny, and smart. He had the exact same hobbies that I did. I’d had more fun with him the night before than I’d ever had on a date.
On the other hand, he was Shane Perkins. I was pretty sure that he was the Shane Perkins. I was equally sure that he’d flat out lied to me about it when I’d asked if he’d ever heard of Perkins Enterprises.
My coffee pot dinged, cheerfully signaling that it was ready. My coffee maker was having a better morning than I was. I filled a mug with steaming liquid, before adding cream and sugar. I stirred the dark, swirling brew until the color brightened. If only it were that easy to lighten up my own dark, swirling thoughts.
I had been trying to get Shane to open up to me all night. I had given him a thousand opportunities to tell me the truth but he hadn’t.
So, not only was his father responsible for mine going bankrupt, he was also a liar. It wasn’t like I knew him well but he’d seemed so genuine about everything else. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was simply a phenomenal liar, or if he’d only lied about that one thing.
That one, huge thing.
I took my coffee out to the back porch. The morning breeze rustled the treetops around me in a whispering sigh. I sat down in my favorite rocking chair and sipped my coffee. I wasn’t usually up this early, not if I could help it anyway. But last night’s sleeplessness had driven me out of bed at this ungodly hour.
Still, the world was peaceful right now. It did nothing to banish my worries about Shane but it smoothed away some of the jagged edges and helped me focus.
Why hadn’t he just come clean? He wasn’t directly responsible for whatever happened between our fathers. So, it seemed like the easiest thing in the world for him to just say, “Yes, I’ve heard of Perkins Enterprises.” And let the chips fall where they may.
Worst case scenario for him was that I stormed out. It wasn’t like his heart would’ve broken if I had. So, why lie?
I wanted to bang my head against every wall in the house but that hardly seemed helpful. I settled for drinking way too much coffee and having a shower so long that the water ran cold before I got out.
My father would be waiting for my call, for me to tell him whether I’d decided to go on the date or not, and how it went if I had. But it took me almost an hour before I mustered up the courage to pick up the phone.
It rang for a few seconds before my dad picked up with his usual greeting. “Morning, sunshine.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“You’re never up this early. Is everything okay?” The concern in his voice was clear, and it broke my heart a little.
“Everything’s fine, Dad. I’ve been up for a while. I’ve just been thinking and getting ready for work.” Which was going to be brutal, since I’d gotten just about no sleep.
“How was your night?” he asked cautiously.
“It was fine. I decided to go out with Shane. We went to Fields of Fire, and then for a late dinner at that Irish place that Drew’s always talking about.”
“How did it go?”
“It actually went really well. I was having a lot of fun.”
“Was?”
“Was,” I said. “Until he lied to me.”
“What about?”
“I asked him if he’d ever heard of Perkins Enterprises, and he said no.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dad said. “He’s probably a lying pile of shit just like his father before him.”
“I don’t know, Dad. I just didn’t get that vibe from him. I’m honestly not sure what to make of it all.”
“Well, I want to meet him,” he said.
That was not a good idea.
“Why?” I asked, wanting to stall him, or at least make him confront his own intentions. Either he was still resentful and wanted to vent, or he needed closure about everything and thought that meeting Shane would bring it to him.
“I just do.”
That was a brush off if I’d ever heard one. Even so, I couldn’t say no to my dad. Just the possibility of him getting closure and really moving on was enough of a motivation for me, leery as I might have been about the idea.
“I’ll see if I can set it up, but if I do, you have to promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior.”
I really didn’t want our tentative second date blowing up at the dinner table, but judging by my dad’s sarcastic response, I was pretty sure that was exactly what would happen.
Chapter Ten
Shane
I checked myself out in my bedroom mirror one more time. My long-sleeved Henley hugged my body, and my dark jeans looked clean. I wanted to look nice tonight but I also didn’t want to look too nice. I sure as hell didn’t want to look like a billionaire. This would do.
I grabbed my keys, hopped in my truck, and headed to Fiona’s place.
After the way Fiona had ended our first date two days earlier, I had been truly surprised when she’d called the day before to invite me to dinner at her dad’s house that night. I didn’t have much experience with dating but I was quite sure that meeting the parents wasn’t something that usually happened so soon. As weird as it was, I couldn’t say no.
The memory of our kiss haunted me. I desperately wanted another one, and so much more. If going to dinner at her dad’s was going to get me that, then dinner it was.
As I drove over to Fiona’s, my stomach roiled uneasily. I cranked the radio and tried singing along to the song but pretending nothing was wrong didn’t work. I knew Fiona and her father were close, which would have had me on edge, even without the added pressure of knowing that my dad had run hers out of business with his fucked up procurement practices.
There was also the fact that I hadn’t told her the truth about myself when I’d had the opportunity to do it. I hoped like all hell that I would never have to do it.
Fiona and I were meeting at
her place and walking over to her dad’s together. By the time I got there, my palms were uncharacteristically sweaty, and my heart was pounding. I wasn’t used to nerves, and it wasn’t something that I found myself partial to becoming used to.
Fiona stepped out of her house when I pulled up, wearing a flowing sundress that I was sure had been designed to kill me. I was also sure that her father would happily complete the task if he ever got so much as a hint of the thoughts that raced through my mind in that very moment.
The dress was as blue as the sky darkening overhead and hit mid-thigh, exposing her toned legs in a way that made me want them wrapped around my waist. It was cut just low enough to catch a glimpse of the very tops of her breasts. I was dying to tug it lower, to reveal the secrets the dress was keeping to itself.
I pasted a grin on my face and headed out of the truck to meet Fiona, who didn’t make matters any easier when she gave me quick hug. Just long enough for her scent to drift to my nostrils and the warm, soft curves of her body to send a bolt of desire through me.
“Hey,” I said, once she stepped out of my arms way too soon.
She smiled warmly. “Hi.”
“Should we get going?” I had no idea how long the walk would take us.
“Yeah. Thanks for coming. I know that a lot of guys would have freaked out if a girl told them that her dad wanted to meet them on the second date.”
“I wondered,” I admitted, reaching for her hand as we started walking.
Fiona slid her hand easily into mine, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He just wanted to meet you.”
It was a simple, honest answer. Guilt settled in my stomach that I hadn’t been entirely honest with her. The feeling grew more intense when we reached her father’s house, and a dark-haired man stepped onto the porch. It hit me like a shock wave that I was about to meet a man who had been destroyed by my father. The course of his life had been irrevocably altered because my dad was a greedy motherfucker whose millions weren’t enough for him.
“Shane, meet my father, Randy Hall. Daddy, meet Shane.” Fiona smiled brightly.