"He's good. Getting better every day." Shannon hesitated, wanting her advice, but afraid to spill her secret. "I really like him."
"Like him?" Kerry stilled. "You mean like-like?" She whirled around, wooden spoon clutched in her hand. "Shannie?" As she scanned her face, Shannon braced herself. "Oh my God. You're sleeping with him."
"It's not what you think-"
"I think you're sleeping with your boss—who you've known for what? Six weeks?" Kerry's eyes narrowed. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Yes." Her face heating, she turned from her accusing stare.
"Aren't you worried you'll lose your job? I thought you loved that job."
"It's not like that," she protested. "We're keeping it casual. I think."
"You think?" Kerry raised her gaze to the ceiling in mock despair. "Shan—seriously. He owns the company. That means when he dumps you, you'll lose the job, too. That's how these things work. He's not going anywhere."
She raised her hands. "Okay—so, if you could stop judging me for a second . . . there's more. And I really need your advice."
Clamping her lips shut, her expression one of barely restrained lecturing, Kerry nodded. "I'm sorry. Go ahead."
"Okay . . . so you remember the guy from the accident?"
"What accident?" Her sister frowned. "When did you-"
Rolling her eyes, she cut her off. "Gram's accident?"
"From a zillion years ago?"
"Yeah, well . . . this is the guy." Wincing, she waited for her sister to explode. When it didn't occur, she opened one eye.
"Shan—what the hell are you talking about? What guy?"
Kerry's expression would be comical if it hadn't been so revealing. Her sister had been only fifteen. The accident that had traumatized Shannon had left her younger sister largely unscathed. The details that were so etched in her brain were nothing more than hazy, rarely summoned memories for Kerry. "The boy . . . who was driving the night Gram was killed . . . is the man I'm working for now."
Her eyes widened with understanding. "You're sleeping with the guy who-" Her analytical brain taking over for her mouth, her sister stopped herself. Mirror-image eyes stared back at her while Kerry processed the information. "Didn't he go to jail?"
"Yes."
Holding up a finger, Kerry turned to shut off the stove. "I sense this is going to take a while." Rising on her tiptoes, she plucked two wine glasses from the cabinet over the stove. Nodding to the counter, she finally spoke. "Get the bottle of Malbec over there."
Forty-five minutes and two glasses later, they were hunched together over Kerry's kitchen table. Just like the old days. "You're not shocked? Is it too weird?"
"Definitely not shocked." She hesitated. "Reserving judgment on the weird part." Frowning at her expensive pumps, Kerry kicked them to the floor. In one limber move, her sister hoisted her legs up to balance cross-legged on the kitchen stool, her skinny, runner's legs balancing the rest of her quite gracefully. Shannon had always envied her sister's legs, because no matter how often she ran, her calves remained stubbornly curved, while Kerry's looked like they belonged on a fashion runway.
"Okay, so the way I see it, you've been stalking him for what? Thirteen years?"
She winced. "Can we use another word? Stalking is sort of-"
"Descriptive?" Kerry smirked. "Okay, you've followed . . ." She paused to add air quotes. "this guy for more than a decade. What's so weird about wanting to meet him?" She swirled the ruby liquid in her glass. "Of course, you've taken it a tad farther than that."
Shannon nodded. "A pretty big tad."
"Is this just curiosity? Is he a fling?" Her eyes widened. "Please say it's not revenge-"
"No." Maybe at first it had been curiosity. And maybe Curt felt what they were doing was a fling. But—she suspected it was more than that. Knew it could be more than that. "God . . . no."
Her sister stared at her. Through her. In that way she had. "I don't think this is such a big deal," she finally said. "Assuming we were ever to hear from Dad again, I don't think he would care. And Mom was never crazy about Gram anyway." Kerry seemed to select her words carefully. "Being two years younger . . . I mostly remember being upset because you were upset. I hate for you to think less of me, Shan, but you were closer to Gram than me." Her eyes flashed with guilt. "We had so many other problems back then. Mom and Dad and Randy being assholes. Their divorce. The screaming fights about money. Mom threatening to move us." Kerry shrugged. "On top of that, I was in the throes of being a self-absorbed teenager. To be honest, I didn't really pay much attention after the funeral."
"I would never hold something like that against you." Shannon was surprised her sister would be worried about something from so long ago. "I know you cared about her."
Kerry sat back in her chair. "But, the lie, Shan. That's a really big one. You have to tell him. Before you get in too deep," she insisted. "He has the right to know who you are."
Her stomach dropping, she nodded. She knew it was the right thing to do. And she hadn't even told her sister the worst part. About the notes. About the taunting pictures she'd sent. Even now, shame prevented her from confessing the terrible thing she'd done. Was now really the right time to tell him? When things were going so well? When they were edging closer to each other? When Curtis was slowly opening up to her—about his past.
Yeah, right. The painful, tortured past she'd played a huge role in. Damn it, why did it have to be him? "Maybe I could wait? Until we see where it's going?" Fingers crossed under the table, she risked a glance at Kerry. "What if it doesn't work out? I would have upset him for nothing."
She should have anticipated her sister's answering glare. "What if it does work out? What if he ends up loving you? Do you wait until he's proposed? 'Oh, by the way, Curt . . . I have something to confess-'" Her expression incredulous, Kerry showed no mercy. "You can't keep this thing secret, Shan. Dad still goes to the basketball fundraiser he set up. Hell, I've gone to those tournaments. You, too. The newspapers always write something that weekend—about how much money he raises . . . and they always refer back to the accident." She released an exasperated breath. "He's gonna find out. And it will be better coming from you than someone else."
"You're right." Plopping her head in her hands, she massaged her temples. "I know . . . you're right. It's just so hard."
Kerry reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "The longer you keep it secret, the harder it'll be."
Her heart tripping, she raised her gaze to her sister's. No matter where their conversations led, she always knew she would hear honesty from Kerry. "I'm scared to tell him," she confessed. "I really like him."
"Shannie, you haven't done anything wrong."
If only that were true. "I don't know-"
"Seriously, if he cares about you, he'll understand. He paid his debt and he went on to make something of his life." She shrugged. "He's clearly become a successful guy. And now he raises tons of money in our grandmother's name." Kerry's voice warmed to her logic. "Why would he be upset over who you are?"
Swallowing hard, she nodded. Confiding the rest of her horrible secret would have to wait for another time. The little she'd actually confessed had left her stomach churning with dread. "You're right. I should . . . probably head out. I've kept you from your dinner long enough." Gathering her bag, she leaned in to hug her sister. "Thanks for the pep talk."
"Tell him soon." Kerry urged, walking her to the door.
"I will." Soon. At the right moment. "Say hi to Theo for me."
Emotion flitted across her sister's face. If she hadn't been so frazzled, Shannon might have called it . . . worry. But, that wasn't likely. Her strong-willed sister tackled problems, flattening them to the ground. Beating them into submission. What Kerry didn't do—was worry. More likely, Theo had merely done something to piss her off. "I will."
"I'll be back next week to move my stuff out. My rent starts on the new place on the twenty-eighth."
"Only six miles away." Kerry's expression brighten
ed. "We'll practically be neighbors."
Despite the cloud of dread hanging over her, Shannon smiled, grateful for her sister. No matter what happened with Curtis, she would always have Kerry. "I'm looking forward to it."
"THANKS FOR YOUR HELP with this." Curt pulled MaryJo in for a quick hug later that day, before she left. "Shannon has been cooking for the last two weeks. The least I can do is make dinner, right?" His sister-in-law's eyes sparkled, seeming to assess him as she tweaked the arrangement of spring flowers on the table.
"These are gorgeous. No woman can resist flowers."
"Is that how Travis won you over?" Her pretty eyes widened. Hannah had inherited the chocolate shade, too.
"Uh-huh. On our first official date-"
"Before or after you fell out of his tree?"
"He didn't know I existed before I fell on him." She pulled a face. "The first time Travis brought me flowers—they were a joke, but I loved them anyway."
He frowned. "Why were they a joke?"
Her smile was contagious. "We were watching the State vs. University rivalry game. He brought me State flowers—as an insult. But, I still liked them."
"From the grocery store? What a lame-ass."
"You're missing the point," she said. "He saw flowers and thought of me. It's not about the price, Curt. Guys never understand that."
"Because it's too simple." He remained unconvinced. "A dinky, wilted bunch of the wrong color flowers?" He shook his head. "There’s gotta be a catch."
"You're too cynical." She buried her nose in the fragrant bouquet. "And size doesn't matter-"
"Really?" Her face heating, she burst out laughing. Curt couldn't help grinning. "I'll pass that along to Travis. I know he'll be—very relieved."
"Don't you say anything," she warned, her eyes sparkling. "Okay—so maybe size matters for some things, but flowers aren't one of them." Her gaze lingered on the vase. "Shannon's going to love them."
Her tone was deceptively casual, but Curt's radar was up for her usual sister-in-law meddling. He'd asked her advice about dinner because it was a way he could express his thanks. But, knowing MaryJo, she wouldn’t be able to resist twisting it into . . . a thing. Just because she and Travis were ridiculously happy, she assumed everyone else wanted the same luck. According to her, there were soul mates lurking on every corner—waiting to be matched up by her. "It's just dinner," he reminded. "Don't get any ideas."
"What ideas?"
The innocent expression. The eagerness. Curt sighed. Sis, you're way too obvious. "Stop . . . planning the wedding, okay?" It was just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing, best-he'd-ever-had sex. With a beautiful, kind woman.
"Jeez—way to overreact," she sputtered. "I'm merely saying your dinner idea is thoughtful," she insisted. "Shannon has been incredible these past few weeks. What would we have done without her?"
Fine. He could play along. "You're right. She's been great."
"You should be." Scooping up her purse, she checked her phone. "I have to pick up the babies. Grampa Sean is probably pulling his hair out" He trailed her through the house, moving easier on his crutches. Travis truly was lucky, he acknowledged, grinning at her back. But, she could still be a pain in the ass.
"Your steaks are marinating in the fridge. The grill is ready to go. The broccoli is ready to steam on the stove. Just turn it on when your steaks are ten minutes out." She spun around, a frown in her eyes. "Don't forget Saturday. And bring Shannon."
"I know. Trav reminded me this morning," he said gently. "It's etched in my brain."
She rewarded him with a smile. "Okay. Love you. See you tomorrow."
What was she plotting? Hesitating, he closed the door. Recalling the conversation with his brother, Curt winced. Hell—Travis would probably spill everything to her—especially if his confession distracted MaryJo from sniffing out the contraband pizza he would likely eat tonight.
MaryJo would find out he'd slept with Shannon. He sighed. That meant Saturday's barbecue to thank Shannon would likely be a full-court press to push them together. Damn his brother's weakness for junk food.
WITHIN THREE MINUTES of entering his house, Shannon was completely overwhelmed. The worry wracking her brain after her conversation with Kerry ceased when Curtis greeted her at the door, distracting her with a heart-stopping kiss. When he finally released her, his breathing unsteady, he smiled. "Hi. How was your day?"
Unable to resist the gorgeous smile on his handsome face, she tugged him closer. "W-what's going on?"
"Nothing. I've been moving around more, and I heard your car-" He shrugged in a casual, not-at-all-like-Curtis way. "I figured I could meet you at the door."
"I like it." Unable to suppress her smile, she stared at their entwined fingers. If this was a new and improved Curtis, she couldn't wait to see what else he was capable of. "How did it go with the doctor? Did he loosen your brace?"
"Loosened one notch and I can touch my foot to the floor."
"That's wonderful. What else did he say?"
Curt hesitated. "Not much. He talked about PT and he wants me back in two weeks."
She gave his fingers a squeeze. "When can you start PT?"
"Monday." He tugged on her hand. "Come on. I have something to show you."
The heady fragrance of flowers hit her nose before she entered the kitchen. Her gaze was captured by the large vase on the table, a gorgeous assortment of tulips, roses and daisies. "Omigosh, they're so beautiful." Stunned, she crossed the room to sniff them. "Tulips are my favorite."
Glancing up, she noticed the bottle of wine chilling in a bucket on the counter, two sparkling glasses next to it. A marble cheese plate held an assortment of fruit, crackers and cheese. "What—what is all this?"
"I wanted to thank you . . . for everything." Behind her, he leaned in, brushing his lips against her nape, the simple gesture making her shudder. "When you're hungry, I've got dinner ready to go," he whispered, his breath warm where it caressed her ear. "I'm going to grill for you."
Turning in his arms, she smiled. "Those are the sexiest words I've ever heard." Happiness coursed through her when he chuckled. She loved the warm sound. Loved that it was happening more frequently. "Say them again," she urged. "I'll be putty in your hands."
"Wow. Tulips and a steak." His eyes sparked with a wicked light. "You're pretty easy to please."
"If you've made chocolate pudding for dessert, I'm yours forever."
"Would you settle for steamed broccoli?"
Stunned by the startling transformation taking place in him, she wondered how long the fantasy could last. Dismissing the random thought, she grinned. Hell if she wasn't going to enjoy this for as long as it lasted. "I'm sorry. I can't allow exceptions. It's my one true love."
"Damn—I was so close." Tugging her closer, he lowered his mouth to hers, his amazing eyes staring into hers with an expression that made Shannon's heart beat too fast. Forgetting her worries, she gave herself over to the tenderness in his kiss.
When they drew apart, she was panting for air. Heat flushing her face, she read the passion in his eyes. "Maybe . . . dinner could wait a few minutes?"
His forehead resting against hers, Curt laughed. "Ouch. Only a few minutes?"
"Figure of speech." Reaching up to draw his mouth down to hers, she smiled. "Several long, incredibly hot minutes—maybe even half an hour," she reassured.
"That's slightly better." His disgruntled voice made her smile. Her fingers entwined with his, Shannon led him back to the bedroom. Somewhere during the last several minutes, her heart had plunged to the pit of her stomach. Over pink and orange tulips and his engaging smile. Was she falling in love with him? If it were true—she could only pray they'd be able to survive the obstacle she would soon hurl into their path.
Chapter 9
The rain held off until after dinner, but the storm's arrival had put a damper on Curt's plans for an evening of star-gazing. As thunder rumbled overhead, Shannon placed the last of their dinner dishes into the dishwashe
r. "I have an idea if you're up for a challenge?"
Turning from the refrigerator, he glanced her way. "I'm game."
"I noticed you have board games. I challenge you to the game of your choice."
Closing the distance between them, he crutched across the room, tentatively placing a little weight on his braced leg. "What are the stakes? Is this like strip poker?"
Meeting his knowing gaze, she chuckled at the gleam in his eyes. She loved seeing this side of him. More relaxed. Less worried. Less pain. Gaining a little more confidence in his leg each day. "Appealing as it might be to play with a seriously built, naked guy, I think we need higher stakes."
"Naked guy?" His eyes widened. "I see. You're assuming you've got this sewn up." He nodded. "Fine. I'll take underdog status. It'll make the win that much sweeter."
With a nod to the thunder, she smiled. "Since we can't be outside tonight, the winner gets to pick the movie later. Chick flick versus . . . whatever you like to watch." Besides baseball.
"What if I happen to like chick flicks?" Though he maintained a straight face, amusement brimmed in his eyes. "Maybe it's my guilty pleasure."
"Then you'll love the movie I'm going to pick when I win." Trailing down the hall, she headed to his bedroom to retrieve the card table they'd been using during his recovery. When she emerged with it, she followed him into the living room. "You'll need a box of tissues by the end."
"Hell—I feel a nap coming on."
"You have to stay awake and hold my hand." When he cracked up, she smiled, enjoying the fun, friendly banter. It made her realize how easygoing he was—when he allowed himself to be. "If you win, I'll hold your hand, too."
"Does it have to be my hand?" An appealing dimple winked in his cheek when her face flushed with heat. Leaning over the table she'd just set up, he lowered his voice. "I love how you can be completely wild in bed . . . and then blush like this when I tease you."
"I blush over . . . everything." Eyes averted, Shannon groped for a safer topic. "What do you like to watch?"
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