Two of Hearts

by Christina Lee

  But Shane was here now for different reasons, and I needed to get ahold of myself. He was all business. And even though he had told me how much he’d thought of me over the years when he was in my office this week, our relationship was history. Nothing had been resolved between us—and besides, he was only in town temporarily.

  I swung open the door and there he stood. Tall and striking, he ate up the entire frame, like a shadow eclipsing my heart. I was so lost in the vision of him that I didn’t notice he was frustrated.

  “I shouldn’t have been able to make it all the way up here on my own,” he grunted. “The lock in your entrance door jams. I was able to open it easily, without you buzzing me in—not good.”

  “It’s been that way for a while now,” I mumbled, as my eyes scanned down his light blue T-shirt, which gently contrasted his pale skin, to his form-fitting jeans. As he returned the favor, causing my pulse to spike, I realized this might’ve been the first time he’d seen me dressed down since he’d been home.

  Usually I was garbed in my work clothes, which consisted of skirts and heels. Way back when, he had zipped me out of a simple black dress—but before I let my brain go haywire over that memory, I ruthlessly clamped my thoughts down.

  He motioned to the elevator with his thumb. “Well, I’m going to have a little talk with your super.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said, and he gave me a hard look. My superintendent was a ditsy middle-aged man who always promised things but took his good old time delivering. You got what you needed in the end, but only on his timeline.

  Shane held up a bag and breezed past me through the door. “I got us breakfast.”

  “Breakfast,” I mumbled, shutting the door behind him. “You assume a lot.”

  His eyes swept around my condo, which had pretty much remained the same since he’d seen it last, except for the fact that I owned it now. The couch and chaise lounge were in the same spot near the balcony doors, and the photos of family and friends were still prominent on the sofa table.

  Why that seemed important to me, I didn’t know. Did I need him to think that I hadn’t changed, that it was he who had moved on, away from me?

  My logic didn’t make sense. I should’ve wanted him to think that I was different, too. And I was, absolutely. I had plenty of growing up to do, after all. The only things that hadn’t altered were my feelings for him.

  Just standing in close proximity to him made my chest twinge and my stomach flip. He was still the guy who made the entire landscape of my body wrench toward him like he was a magnetic field. I could almost feel myself swaying and leaning closer, so I stepped back and placed some distance between us.

  “If your habits are still the same, you don’t have much food in your refrigerator and you barely stop to eat.” Shane’s eyes swung to my kitchen and the pot of coffee sitting on my counter. “But you still have the good coffee.”

  I was struck speechless. Sure, it had only been a few years, but for him to remember the particulars of my life meant that he really did still think about me. Or he was still really decent at details, which made him good at his job.

  “Am I right?” he asked, now swinging his gaze toward me.

  I nodded, afraid to speak because my throat had gone dry.

  He placed the bag down and began removing the contents. “I got you an egg and avocado from Red Star.”

  My favorite sandwich from a deli I hadn’t had a chance to visit in a long time.

  He dragged out the stool from beneath the counter. My counter. But it was as if he owned the place. “Sit. Eat.”

  Suddenly I felt famished, so I didn’t argue. I numbly walked to the island and sat down. Doing so felt foreign to me. Normally, if I was home, I took my coffee over to the couch, where I sat plunking away on my keyboard. He unwrapped his own sandwich and took a bite, his elbows hanging over the counter.

  “Aren’t you going to sit down with me?” I said, removing the white paper around my breakfast sandwich.

  “No,” he said, around a mouthful of bacon and eggs. “You’re gonna eat and I’m gonna talk. Now take a bite.”

  This bossy side to Shane was more pronounced, and it reminded me so much of my own father that it felt surreal. I mean, Shane had always held his own in our disagreements, but let’s face it, I could argue my way around anything because I used to be a know-it-all and kind of still was.

  Shane had also been skilled in the bedroom department. I squeezed my legs together at the memories of the handful of times we’d been together before we’d parted ways. But this Shane had come into himself as a man. A badass U.S. Marshal who tracked fugitives. Why did it have to be so attractive and arousing?

  I was used to guys being swayed by me, though I’ll admit I was a tough cookie and probably hard to live with. I think some guys may have even been intimidated by me. But Shane always knew how to handle me. He understood me, could see inside me, and knew my heart. But in the end he had chosen differently.

  I took a bite of my sandwich and my eyes practically rolled in the back of my head over how good it tasted, how all the flavors melded together. I even moaned a little, but I didn’t even care how ridiculous I sounded.

  When I opened my eyes, Shane was staring at me, struggling to swallow. “Fuck, angel. You act like you haven’t eaten in years.”

  “Of course I’ve eaten,” I snapped, pretending that his calling me angel didn’t make my body tingle from head to toe. This was now the second time he’d called me that. The hairs on my forearms stood at attention remembering how that intimate nickname had always turned me to liquid. “I haven’t had breakfast from this place in a long time.”

  “You’ve obviously got to get out more,” he said, his lips tilting at the corner.

  I sighed. “Maybe I would if my whole life wasn’t turned upside down right now.”

  “Dee, even if it wasn’t, you’d still work yourself to the bone.” His eyes darted to my mouth and then away when I took a second bite. “And I bet you still sleep very little. That hasn’t changed, yeah?”

  I conceded immediately. “I forget how well you know me.”

  He cracked a sexy and devious smile. “I remember everything.”

  My cheeks flamed hot and I took a sip from my mug to hide my reaction. Damn, all it took was a couple of words and a sandwich? That, and a whole boatload of unresolved sexual tension.

  “Let’s get down to it, yeah?” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a shiny black device that I recognized all too well. “I got you a new phone and I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

  “But—”

  “Still your same number, and I downloaded a few apps to help get you started.”

  I should’ve known he’d do this. I kept myself from reacting any further. It was nice gesture, but also an example of how he was becoming a domineering force the last few days.

  He placed the phone in my hand and I began pushing some buttons, knowing that sooner or later I’d be faced with this new technology. Rachel was bound to grin from ear to ear when she watched me attempt it.

  “Your building looks pretty secure, other than the door that sticks,” he said as I marveled at what he had downloaded to my phone. Some of my favorite songs, a weather and news app, and one-touch shopping to my favorite online stores. Damn him, why did he have to know so much about me?

  As I popped the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth, he said, “But I’m still going to have eyes on you and your mom.”

  “What are you going to do, follow us around twenty-four-seven?” I said, lifting my coffee mug to my mouth. “That would be an impossible feat even for you.”

  “I have my ways,” he said. “Don’t worry, just go about your regular routine.”

  I stopped midsip. “What kind of ways?”

  “Dee, I know what I’m doing, and I have plenty of help if I need it,” he said, reaching for a cup and pouring himself some coffee. I couldn’t help noticing that he remembered exactly in which cupboard they we
re located. “I need to make sure you’re safe. Just trust me on that.”

  “Shane, you’ve already done enough,” I said, even though I knew it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. Shane was determined, and I had to admit that I liked the degree of certainty and safety he afforded me. It made me feel like I wasn’t in this alone, except as soon as he left town I’d be even more so.

  “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that I need to carry around a can of Mace.”

  He looked at me pointedly, and I could tell he was just easing me into all of this.

  “Dee,” he said, his voice soft and filled with concern. “You can never do enough where personal safety is involved.”

  I slumped into my chair. I got that he was referring to my dad. And if I felt so forlorn from the mere thought of him, how was my mother handling all of this?

  I’d seen her those days after, so broken. But there was this resolve about her. She held her head high when she walked into that casino. She ignored the whispers, the stares, and the employees congregating. She greeted each and every one of them and pretended that they weren’t saying anything about her, that they weren’t losing faith in her.

  She was always so damn strong and some days I felt like there was no way I would ever measure up. I needed to pull on that strength, stay focused and find a way to tamp down the embers that seemed ready to erupt at the casino. Shane was at least right about that—something was brewing. I could feel it, like standing on the edge of a forest fire. The warm wind, the ash, and soot blowing my way. If we didn’t get a handle on all the rumors and misconceptions swirling around the casino, somebody else would. We needed to drive our point home that everything would remain the same. But how?

  “All of this is so messed up.” I stood up, leaving my crumbs on the counter, needing some air.

  Chapter Fourteen

  DAKOTA

  I walked to the balcony and slid open the door. Sucking in the cool morning air, I steadied myself against the railing. It was always so peaceful out here and I hadn’t taken advantage of this great view nearly enough in the last few years I’d lived here.

  I felt the heat of Shane’s body behind me. “It sucks that you’re going through this.”

  “My father lost his life because of some asshole.” I turned to him, anger solidifying in my chest. “And people who claimed to be as close to us as an extended family are now skeptical of my mom and me.”

  He nodded and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I ignored how my skin tingled simply when his fingers touched me.

  “But God, I get it. I understand the struggle so deeply. Our people fought so hard to get where we are today,” I said, remembering our Indian history, all the parts you never read in schoolbooks. Those missing pieces had been filled in by the people I surrounded myself with daily. The people I loved.

  I’d also seen it with my own eyes. How even though treaties to retain our territories were signed long ago, misuse of our resources, our practices, and our land was still occurring in some areas. In many cases, due to plain misinformation and unawareness. Which is why programs like the one Ridge headed up were so important—to help us maintain our traditions, our dignity.

  “We’ve had so many things working against us,” I said. “The casino is just one more thing that they’re trying desperately to preserve as their own. And by running it, I’m stomping on their efforts. I’m stomping on their fight.”

  “Nothing is ever that black and white. Things always have a way of getting complicated. Especially what it comes down to feelings and beliefs,” he said. “You’re trying to preserve a piece of your family’s legacy, that’s worth something. You’re not exploiting it, you’re upholding it. You understand and appreciate how much value it has.”

  “True. But, damn it, my father’s dream was to help our people rise above, stay afloat, and I share that vision. Can I really do that if I’m not completely one of them?” I said, nearly on the verge of angry tears.

  “Goddammit, Dakota. You are one of them. I don’t care how much Native American you have in your ethnic makeup. You’ve grown up here and your heart is in preserving this culture. Maybe some people need to be reminded of that base concept,” he said. “Sometimes fear gets in the way of rationality.”

  I inhaled air because what he was saying was so simple, so real. It should be that easy. But to his point, sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes people’s feelings got involved, making the issue complex and profound.

  “Some days, I sit back and wonder if they deserve that small victory. My mother isn’t Indian. And maybe she shouldn’t . . . maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  He moved in close, his fingers sliding around my shoulder, the other hand across my back, and then he tugged me closer to him.

  “It makes a ton of sense why you’re feeling so conflicted,” he whispered. “But you’re the one who can lead them to that victory—or even a bigger one. Isn’t that why your dad ran this casino in the first place? To feed money into the community? To help out others?”

  His gaze seared into mine, and I couldn’t look away even if I tried. “You’re a leader, Dakota, and you’re good people. Your mom and you are the right people to run that casino, to help your community. You’ve got to believe that.”

  I nodded, because I knew he was right and voicing my fears to him felt good. Because he understood me. It was true that I couldn’t imagine anybody else running that casino. It was ours. It felt like a part of me. Like an interwoven fabric in my soul. I didn’t want to give it up. I wanted to fight for it.

  “This will work out, you’ll see,” he said. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, and you’ll figure out a way to make it through.”

  He always thought that about me. But this undercurrent of dissatisfaction at the casino sometimes seemed too large to overcome. So I swallowed my fears and doubts and mumbled, “I know. Thank you.”

  “I hope you appreciate how badly I want to help find the asshole who took your father’s life.” His fingers clenched around my waist. I could feel his frustration pulsing through them.

  “Is that really why you’re sticking around?” I asked, my heart thundering in my chest. I knew he had connections and his father still worked for the department. But I needed some answers from him.

  “Partly, yes,” he said against my hair. Everything felt so fragile, so fleeting, like we were running out of time.

  “And the other part?” I tilted my head back to gaze into his striking indigo eyes. His fingers were warm; our faces were breathing the same air. Being this unnervingly close felt nice. Too nice.

  I should have broken away, but I couldn’t. I liked it too much, I wanted too badly to be enveloped in his heat. My gaze trailed down to his mouth, which was perfectly sculpted, that bottom lip fuller than the top. He swiped his tongue across it and I sucked in a breath.

  The hand that was around my shoulder shifted to my nape. His fingers slid up and then forked through my ponytail, gripping it. His eyes darted to mine and in one smooth and confident move, he released the tie. I swallowed firmly, which was pointless, since my mouth had grown completely dry.

  Shane had always preferred my hair to be worn down and as it fell like a curtain around my face, I shut my eyes to keep my pulse in check. Our chests brushed against one another, our lips so close I could feel the unsettling tension throbbing and tethering between us. He delved his fingers through the ends of my hair and I trembled from want, need, and longing.

  “We never really had a chance to get started back in college,” he said, narrowing the sliver of space between us. My heart battered relentlessly with nerves and desperation. “I’ve missed you, angel.”

  His lips brushed lightly across mine and I sighed into his mouth. We weren’t even fully kissing yet, just keeping our lips close enough together as we drew and released warm air between us that crackled with a pulse of its own. We were unhurried in reacquainting ourselves, keeping our eyes open, gazing at each other as we remembered
what our mouths felt like when they were moving in union.

  Then he shifted his jaw, his head slanting to the side, placing more pressure against my mouth. I remembered now how his lips fit so seamlessly over mine. How his mouth was warm and his tongue was soft. He flicked it over my lips, top then bottom, coaxing me to open for him, and I parted my mouth in response.

  There was no way I could resist, no way I could walk away not experiencing how he tasted again after all this time. I leaned into the kiss, my tongue meeting his in small arousing flicks before he thrust past my lips, sliding over my teeth to seize my mouth.

  My hands flew up to clutch his hard biceps, as if I needed his strength to anchor me because his kiss had rendered me useless. His tongue investigated my mouth aggressively and then tenderly, as if memorizing everything about me he may have forgotten. The taste of him was intoxicating, and it felt familiar yet new all at once. The same, yet different.

  He was surer, more confident—and that made him even sexier. Made his mouth taste even more appetizing. He tugged at my hair, wrapping his fingers more securely as he deepened the kiss, groaning into my mouth.

  Hearing that noise emit from his throat lit a firestorm inside me. I couldn’t help but grab his waist firmly, pulling his hips securely against mine. I could feel his arousal pulsating against my stomach and the center of my thighs tingled in response. A wildfire was traveling across my skin, heating me inside and out at the same time, like I was going to combust at a moment’s notice.

  I rolled my head back and broke the kiss, trying to corral my unruly pulse. His forehead pressed into mine, his choppy breaths warm against my lips.

  “Maybe now,” he said, before pulling me into another deep and almost desperate kiss, “you won’t be argumentative if I want to pick up some shifts at the casino. To be closer to you and Stuart.”

  “What?” I pulled away, dazed by his words. “That’s why you kissed me? To soften me up?”