by Emily Bishop
“Goodbye, Fiona. We’ll talk soon, okay?” I released her from my arms and turned to leave.
Stepping across Fiona’s threshold was the most difficult thing that I had ever done, which was a fucking feat, considering everything that I’d achieved in my life.
The closer I got to my truck, the more I could feel my heart ripping, trying to stay with her instead of going back to Houston with me.
Every fiber of my being ached to turn around, and to answer the pull that I still felt toward her. To envelop her in my arms and never let her go.
Instead, I hit the unlock button on my key fob and climbed into the rental truck, another stark and unnecessary reminder that Mystic wasn’t my life. I had a fleet of luxury cars in my garage in Houston, with a brand-new Bugatti Veyron that had arrived just a week before the explosion and was waiting for me to get home.
Yet I would have exchanged them all in an instant if it meant that the rental truck would be my real car, that Mystic would be my real life, and Fiona would be my real girl.
But the truck wasn’t mine. Neither was Fiona or Mystic. By the next day, they would all be nothing but a memory that wasn’t likely to be revisited, unless Fiona changed her mind.
With that depressing reality check, I allowed myself one last glance at Fiona, still watching me from her doorway before I got the fuck out of there, lest I gave in to my baser instincts.
The image of her standing there, though, silhouetted by the ambient light from her living room, was going to haunt me for the rest of my days. It was the punishment that I would have to live with for breaking her heart.
I got little to no sleep that night, rising from my bed in Mystic for the last time the next morning, feeling groggy and in a terrible mood.
Justin would send people to the house later that day to cover the furniture back up and to clear out the kitchen, so all I had to pack were my personal belongings. It took me all of five minutes to get my shit stashed in my bag after I took an ice-cold shower. Regrettably, it did nothing to improve my mood or the fog swirling around my sleep-deprived brain.
Eric had the jet ready and waiting by the time I arrived at the airstrip. A wide smile stretched across his face. “Happy to be taking you home, sir. Houston’s just not the same without you.”
I sighed, nodding at the usually stoic pilot. “Thanks, Eric. Let’s get the wheels up as soon as possible.”
Before I change my mind.
“You got it.” He shot me a thumbs up and followed me up the short flight of steps that the flight attendant raised as soon as we stepped foot onto the plush carpeting of the plane.
It felt like a lifetime had passed since I’d last been encased by the luxurious metal tube, but, in reality, it had only been a few weeks. I shook my head, not able to wrap my head around everything that had happened while I’d been in Mystic.
In my heart of hearts, I knew that the man this very jet had carried to Mystic was not the same man it was preparing to carry back to Houston.
Once we were airborne, I leaned back in my seat and bid Mystic a final farewell from thirty thousand feet above it.
Chapter Seventeen
Fiona
“You look like crap,” Drew commented when I arrived at work the next morning.
“I feel like it, too,” I admitted, too tired to argue with him this morning.
I’d barely managed to drag my tired, confused ass out of bed earlier. I had never faked sick to take a day off from work before but I had been minutes away from calling in that morning.
Watching Shane walk away and leave, probably for good, nearly killed me. I proceeded to spend the night tossing and turning in a bed that still smelled of sex and Shane.
Sometime before dawn, I changed my sheets in the hopes that it would finally bring me some peace. It didn’t. Instead, I regretted it almost the instant I turned on the washing machine.
Since I couldn’t smell him anymore, I spent the rest of the night—and morning—staring at pictures of him that I’d snapped at random on my phone. No matter how hard I stared, the image of him on my screen didn’t tell me what I wanted from him.
I wished that he hadn’t left, but I’d also spent a few hours wondering if it was for the best that he left before I got even deeper with him. It was fun while it lasted, but it could never have lasted.
He belonged with his company, which was one that I couldn’t get behind for so many reasons that they made my mind spin. It was a relationship that came with an expiration date. I was probably better off without him.
“Hey, space cadet, you okay?” Drew asked, his brow furrowed.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Drew knew me better than that. “Yeah, right. What happened?”
“Shane came over and told me the truth.” I sighed, starting at the beginning.
“He came clean on his own?” Drew’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “Dude’s got it bad for you, babe.”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. “So bad that he took off back to Houston before I could even catch my damn breath.”
“Shit,” Drew breathed.
“Yeah,” I said. “He told me I should think about what I wanted in the meantime. Then he was gone.” Tears prickled at the backs of my eyes, so I squeezed them shut.
Drew regarded me in quiet contemplation. “And what is it that you want from him?”
“I don’t know. I think that I’m probably better off without him, regardless of how much fun we have together.” I omitted the fact that my inner monologue on the subject was still continuing.
“Fun? Is that what the cool kids are calling it these days?” Drew smirked.
“Quit trying to cheer me up. It’s not going to work. Not today.” I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his ribbing, even if I knew that he was only doing it to make me feel better.
“Wanna bet?” he asked, cocking his head and raising one dark eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”
“It wasn’t a challenge,” I argued.
“It is now.” His eyes lit up. “Besides, I know the foolproof make-Fiona-happy plan.”
“It’s too early for ice cream,” I said, speaking the six words that I never thought I would say in that order in a sentence.
Drew clutched at his heart. “It’s never too early for ice cream but I’ll let your temporary insanity slide because it doesn’t look like you got a single wink of sleep. I’ll even get you extra sprinkles to give you the energy to get through the day.”
It was amazing how Drew could always get me to crack a smile. Looking annoyingly satisfied with himself, he loped from the store and headed down the street to our favorite ice cream place.
A tall man caught the door from slamming behind Drew. For just a second, I allowed myself to hope that it was Shane, but that hope was quickly crushed when I realized that, apart from the fact that he was about Shane’s height, there were no similarities between the two men.
Two children darted in behind the man and clung to his legs, stopping him from approaching me like he had been about to. I pasted on my most polite smile for our customers and headed to help the man and his kids.
“What’re you guys looking for today?”
“Boat building kits,” the man answered.
Fuck. Of course that would be what they were looking for.
“The kids saw a dingy in the harbor and are driving me insane about it. You got any?”
“Sure, right this way.” I led them to the same aisle that I had spent so much time with Shane in, unable to stop myself from thinking about him.
While the man and his children browsed the kits, debating the kind of design that they wanted to build, I took a stroll down memory lane, despite trying my very best not to.
I thought back to the first time that Shane had stepped into the store, to the way my body had reacted to him from the second I laid eyes on him. He’d been so sexy and confident, talking about his experienced hands and how he knew how to handle himself when things got wet. It sounded crazy, but I swore
that there were actual sparks in the air between us when we were together.
And when we were together together, it was downright explosive. I had never felt so connected to another person. I hadn’t known that orgasms could be that intense, that one could experience such pure and absolute joy from watching someone else take that amount of pleasure from your body.
Just the memory of him and being with him sent tingles running down my spine and had sparks going between my legs.
“Excuse me, miss.” The customer’s voice pulled me from my sexy reverie. I blushed, beyond thankful that he couldn’t read my mind. “Which of these two are better?”
He pointed his finger first at one beginner’s building kit and then another: the Selkie kayak and the Nymph.
“The Selkie,” I answered immediately, then cleared my throat. “I think your children would enjoy it more.”
I had no idea why I was justifying my choice to the man, since he simply nodded at my answer and loaded the kit into his cart, but I hadn’t been able to help myself.
Suddenly, everything was reminding me of Shane. I could barely keep my thoughts straight enough to ring up the man’s purchase and bid the customers goodbye with a friendly smile. In my mind’s eye, all that I could see was him.
The way that he moved through the store with confidence and grace, and the way he frowned in serious concentration while he considered his options. His easy smirk and clever, annoying banter.
Memories crashed into me with the force of a tsunami and dragged me into their torrent. My first argument with Shane, the one that had ended with me asking him to leave the store. The way my heart had raced the next time he came in. Fishing with him. The first time he had held me in his strong arms, saving me from falling into the water.
Our first real conversation that hadn’t ended in hostility, the beginning bits of getting to know one another. The thrill of our first date at Fields of Fire. Shane helping first the boy and then the teenage girls. The passionate kiss that we had shared that night. The fact that he had been willing to meet my father for our second date. Every heated touch and shiver of pleasure that had followed later that night.
He made my heart race and my core ache every time that I saw him. It only got better, or worse, depending on the way that you looked at it.
In a moment of stunning clarity, I realized that I wanted that. I wanted him. More than I wanted to take my next breath. He might frustrate me, annoy me, and, occasionally, make me so angry that I was beside myself, but he also made me laugh and feel free and happier than ever before. I wanted every part of that, every minute of every day.
That was when it hit me that it was probably too late to say that to him. And the thought absolutely fucking crushed me.
Chapter Eighteen
Shane
When the jet touched down in Houston, Justin had my Veyron waiting for me at the private airport. I realized that while I was itching to get behind its wheel again, I didn’t feel as excited about driving it as I had been before I went to Mystic. That was when I was pretty sure I was fucked.
I was starting to think that my self-imposed exile was going to be a dividing point in my life, pre-Mystic Shane and post-Mystic Shane.
The Veyron’s engine purred to life at barely the touch of a button, and I directed the monster of a performance car straight to the skyscraper that was Perkins Enterprises. I had come back to Houston to get back to work, and I wasn’t going to waste so much as a second.
Besides, I was starting to drive myself crazy, and I needed an outlet. Work seemed like the perfect thing. I roared into my parking spot, right next to the bank of elevators that led straight to the executive level, swiped my key card, and within seconds, I was back in my natural habitat.
The employees of Perkins Enterprises seemed genuinely happy to see me back, coming out of their offices to greet me. Justin rushed toward me, firing off instructions into his ever-present earpiece and tapping at it when he reached me.
“Boss man, good to have you back.” He smiled. “I’m afraid there’s no time for you to settle in. There’s a board meeting in progress that started two minutes ago.”
“What?” I snapped, confusion and surprise clouding my thoughts, though I showed no outward expression of either emotion. “Why wasn’t I informed of this meeting?”
Justin looked shocked and suddenly afraid. “I don’t know, sir. Bart convened the meeting. I assumed it was on your instruction.”
It wasn’t but I wasn’t about to say it. “Where is it?”
“The big boardroom, sir,” Justin answered quickly.
I strode with purpose to the other end of the building, to the big boardroom that was attached to my office because it was ordinarily used for board meetings called by the CEO.
Me.
No one else was ordinarily allowed to make use of it without my express permission. Someone, it seemed, had forgotten that. I practically felt the relaxed Mystic Shane melt and mold back into the ruthless, billionaire oil tycoon, Houston Shane.
By the time I yanked at the handle of the door that led to my boardroom, there were no more traces of the man Fiona had met in Mystic.
A hush fell over the room as I entered. Most of the board members looked like they had seen a ghost when they saw me. Surprise was etched onto every face in the room, none more so than my trusty President’s face.
Every prickle of apprehension and suspicion that I’d felt and ignored back in Mystic bubbled to the surface. I had let the reins hang too loose, and it seemed he was trying to gather them up.
My fists clenched. Something was rotten in Denmark. Or, in this instance, at Perkins Enterprises.
My gut feeling was confirmed when someone muttered, “I thought he wasn’t attending these meetings anymore.”
Rage roiled in my stomach. When I spoke, it was with a low command. “What is the meaning of this?”
Each of the board members met my eyes briefly before becoming suddenly interested in the wooden grain of the table, or the view beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. A few of them glanced at Bart and set their jaws.
“Shane,” Bart started, beads of sweat popping onto his brow. “I didn’t know you’d be back quite this soon.”
I turned my gaze on him, my eyes burning holes into his sockets. “You haven’t answered my question, Bart. What the fuck is this?”
“I… uh… We…” He dabbed at his forehead. “We needed to discuss some, uh, some things that couldn’t wait.”
“Couldn’t wait for CEO to deal with them, or even be informed of them?” I asked, my voice a dangerous rasp.
“Well, I was going to, uh, update you when you finally got home.” Bart fumbled his words.
“Here I am, Bart.” I crossed my arms across my chest. “The floor is yours.”
“Mr. Perkins, Mr. Burrows,” one of the board members spoke up. “I think it’s best that we adjourn this meeting so you two can catch up.”
“And figure your shit out,” another mumbled.
My eyes caught Bart’s, and I kept them narrowed on his. “I think that would be for the best. You’re all dismissed. Meeting adjourned. I will reconvene it within the next few days if I feel it necessary.”
The board members shuffled from the room, a generally confused mumbling among them.
“What are you doing here, Shane?” Bart huffed when the doors closed behind the board.
“First off, you’re in my seat.” I nodded to where he was seated at the head of the table. His eyes narrowed briefly, then he heaved himself out of my chair and into his proper place at my right hand.
I settled in, undoing the button on my jacket with one hand. I sat without once breaking eye contact with Bart. “That’s better.”
“Well then?” Bart asked, prodding me to continue.
“I believe I asked you a question first,” I said. “It remains unanswered.”
“I told you, boy,” he said, something unfamiliar in his voice. “There were some matters that needed to be
discussed immediately, and I needed the board to approve them.”
“What matters?” My eyes were narrowed to slits at this point.
“A lot has happened here since the explosion. You were gone. We had to carry on in your absence. I will catch you up in due course, but you need to get settled back in first. There are some documents that need your signature as soon as possible, then we’ll sit down. Okay?” His reply was as cagey as he’d been acting all morning.
I needed time to figure out what was going on with him, so I agreed. “Okay.”
“So, what are you doing back already?” Bart dabbed his brow again, his eyes darting to the door like he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“You tell me. You called, Bart. Do you not remember that?” I raised an eyebrow, studying his features closely.
“Of course I do, but I didn’t think you’d hop on the first flight out.”
“You were pretty insistent. Besides, I was already headed back.” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know the truth.
“Oh, well, that explains it, then,” Bart said. “I thought it would take you at least a couple of days to wrap up your business there.”
“You were wrong, obviously,” I said quickly. “Perkins Enterprises has always been my first priority, as you know. It was time. It’s been long enough since the explosion.”
“Yes.” He pursed his lips. “I suppose so. I called you back because there are some things only you are authorized to do at this point in time.”
What the fuck does that mean? “I’m not your goddamn whipping boy, Bart. I’m not at your beck and call to summon whenever you need me to scribble my signature.”
Bart’s eyes popped wide open. “That’s not what I meant. I merely meant that I agree with you. It was time to come back, and it’s a good thing, since we need your authorization to take a few steps that are necessary in the investigation.”
His vague, bullshit answers were starting to get to me. “Have everything sent over to my office. I’ll look it over and authorize what I deem necessary.”
“You don’t need to look over everything, Shane. It’s not necessary. I’ll have the documents sent over that need to be signed. If, of course, you agree with their contents.” Bart had trouble meeting my gaze. He dabbed at new beads of sweat.