"You never effed up like-"
"Jesus, Curt . . . let it go." His brother's shouted words reverberated in the dark stillness. "You've paid, okay? A million times over. Let it fucking go."
Rearing back with shock, Curt stared at his brother. The agony in his eyes made his heart stutter—with the sudden realization. It hadn't just been him suffering. All these years—Travis had suffered alongside him. He'd shared the burden of Curt's guilt. Quietly. Without complaint. Never tiring. Never asking him to change. Never demanding he get over it. Until now.
Deep inside, a tightly coiled band finally snapped. The sensation reverberated through his chest. Nearly lightheaded with its release, Curt acknowledged how heavy it had been to carry. In the middle of the most intense conversation of his life, how could he suddenly feel—free? Reaching across the table to clink his bottle with his, he met his brother's stunned expression with a smile. "Okay. You got a deal."
"That's it?" Bewildered, Travis shook his head. "All I had to do was yell? I thought I'd have to throttle it out of you."
"Why the hell couldn't you have done that years ago?"
His laugh shaky, Travis ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I've been kinda busy."
Fifteen minutes and another round of beers later, his brother stared at him, the challenge clear in his eyes. "So . . . what do you really want?"
Curt swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. "There are . . . two things. I want to find the granddaughter."
"The one who wrote to you?"
"I've looked over the years." He stared out at the shadowed backyard, the scent of honeysuckle drifting over him. "I've never forgotten her. I want to apologize."
"You need help finding her? That would be a cakewalk for MaryJo."
Before he could think about it too much, he nodded. "Yeah. I want her help."
"And the second thing?"
"I think. . ." He paused, his gaze locked on his brother, the truth lodged in his throat, nearly choking him. "No . . . I know. Once this is finally over? I want—Shannon."
SIX DAYS. SIX ENDLESS, crazy days. Shannon shook her head as she ran to her desk, the incessant phone ringing yet again. The proverbial shit had hit the fan. Cindy's reappearance had proven to be wildly popular in a slow news week. The district attorney was making noise about re-opening the case. Rumors were flying. Everyone was looking for details.
Curtis, on the other hand, had gone quiet. As chaos swirled around Four Seasons, he'd retreated further into himself. His brother visited several times, along with what appeared to be the entire Tiberius Software public relations department. Long days spent in his office melted into nights. When she'd poke her head in to say goodbye, his distracted smile told her all she needed to know. She'd be spending another night back at Kerry's.
"You should be there," she reminded herself. She'd overstayed her welcome at Curt's. Sure, he'd suggested she stay until her apartment was ready . . . but that was before Cindy. Before everything had changed. Three days earlier, they'd spent their first weekend apart. Curtis had broken the news over a lingering, stolen kiss in his office. His hands gripping her shoulders as though he'd missed her- But the thrill of finally being in his arms again had dissolved with his words. I'll be working with Travis all weekend. He'd suggested she might want to make other plans.
Other plans. Those words usually translated to 'you need to move your stuff out'. Drifting to the storefront window, she gazed moodily out at the parking lot. "Jeez—way to think positive, Shan." Curt had insisted he was protecting her—he wanted to keep her out of his mess. Swallowing her hurt, she'd smiled. Reassured him she would be fine. She'd used the weekend to clean Curt's house and pack the surprising amount of stuff she'd accumulated there over the last six weeks.
At least Curtis' PT was going well. Their stolen kiss in his office had involved him pushing her up against his door, in the futile hope they wouldn't be interrupted. In five minutes, he'd managed to turn her legs boneless while he remained upright without his crutches.
A shiver crawled over her skin, making her grateful no one was around to witness her furious blush. The strength he so clearly possessed was returning. A strong, powerful Curtis would be dangerously addictive. What would life be like without the brace? With a knee that supported weight? A knee that could bend? She blew out a ragged breath. She'd never known him that way.
Curtis was regaining his life . . . in more ways than just physically. For that, Shannon was ecstatic for him. More frequently now, she heard laughter behind his closed door—especially when Travis visited. Though it stung not to be included, she understood his need to figure things out on his own. If he required distance to achieve it . . . she couldn't bear to pressure him for more. More than anyone she'd ever known, he deserved happiness.
"You might not even be around for the good part." The muttered truth jolted her, knotting her stomach as she remembered. Still looming was The Confession. She had to come clean on being Elizabeth. "And if he can't forgive you?" Avoiding the outcome to that question was a skill she'd become proficient at. Loving someone . . . who might hate her in a few days.
Sinking into one of the refinished chairs, her fingers trailed the muted fabric she'd lovingly chosen. The fabric that had spoken to her. She glanced around the empty lobby. Today, all it did was remind her of what she was dangerously close to losing.
The sound of slow, careful footsteps progressing down the hall wrenched her from the dread that had taken up residence. Curtis. She rose quickly, turning to the window to stall for time, uncertain what would be revealed on her face. Moments later, strong, capable hands slid over her shoulders, tugging her back against him. Curt's breath ruffled against her ear, his mouth brushing her throat. Breath catching, she shivered when his mouth brushed her neck. "Babe, you smell incredible."
Sinking back against him, a temporary relief swept over her. "Hello, stranger."
Turning her to face him, he ran possessive hands down her arms. "God, I miss you," he confessed. "I know I wanted to keep everyone out of my mess—and I've tried like hell to do that, but-"
She smiled at the heat in his eyes, a momentary reprieve from her impending doom. "You have to do this the right way."
"I know," he cut her off, softening his words with a finger brush to her cheek. "I just—want-" His gaze was hopeful. "Please . . . tell me you can stay tonight?"
"I think . . . I can change my plans." His words sent a jolt of pure happiness coursing through her. And relief, she admitted. A stay of execution. For purely selfish reasons, Shannon was grateful. She'd get another night with him.
"Plans?" His beautiful eyes registered confusion, his expression already indicating how he wanted to spend their evening together.
She smiled. "Yeah—crowded in Kerry's den—avoiding packing up my stuff." Now that he wasn't stooped over his crutches, she had to raise up on her toes to reach him. His powerful physique appeared even more so at his full height. Lacing her fingers through his hair, she pulled him down to her. He was ravenous, his mouth slanting hungrily against hers. When they parted, they were both out of breath. "Are you s-sure you're not too busy?"
Curt tugged her back against him. "Does this feel like I'm busy? I don't care what they want to strategize tonight. I'm cancelling it."
She smiled over his grumpy expression. Peering over his shoulder to make sure no one was around, she ran her hand over the front of his jeans.
He staggered against her. "Now, you're torturing me?"
"Perhaps I can help," she suggested. "You forget—I'm a nurse." Inhaling his intoxicating scent, she grazed her mouth over the pulse beating rapidly in his throat. "You appear to be in discomfort." His pants grew even tighter under her hand. "I'm highly skilled at relieving pain."
"Shan-" His voice was a hoarse plea.
"Is anyone back there?"
"Back . . . where?"
Smiling over the confusion overtaking his voice, his eroding verbal skills didn't match the burning intensity reflect
ed in his eyes. Linking her fingers with his, she tugged him down the hall. "C'mon, I have an idea."
SEVEN HOURS LATER, Curt fell back against the pillows, his heart racing. He watched Shannon above him, her beautiful breasts in his hands. Each move of her hips sent another wave of ecstasy curling through him. He couldn't last much longer. On a sexy gasp, she managed to smile down at him. With a violent jolt of pleasure, he remembered her words. I have an idea. His office. Edge of his desk—which he'd been forced to lean against for fear of collapse when she released his throbbing cock. Her beautiful smile, teasing him as she used her mouth to send him to the edge of reason. Somewhere in the shop, he'd heard a door close. And been too mindless to care whether they were discovered.
"Shannon-" His hoarse shout mimicked the one he'd had to muffle earlier that day. Cupping the curviest ass he'd ever seen, he pulled her hips against him. Her body tightened under his frantic hands.
"Oh my . . . Curtis-" His name, released on a throaty moan, sealed his fate. Her rushing, squeezing heat surrounded him as she came, sending unbearable shivers of pleasure down his spine as he finished in a hot, clenching orgasm.
When she collapsed on top of him, he was there to steady her. To fold her against him. To hold her close to his heart, where it thundered against hers. The pleasant weight of her warm, slack body on his, her addictive floral scent surrounding him, Curt's head filled with images of the future. When two strong legs would mean he could finally do all the things he wanted. The million ways he wanted her.
"I love you, Curtis."
Shannon's murmured confession sent his thoughts scattering. The words he'd always believed he would dread, jagged through him like an ungrounded current. His startled reaction rippled through her, too. "Babe-"
She raised a hand to his lips. "Don't say anything-"
His brain still scrambled, he stroked the length of her spine, caressing satiny skin. They were words he'd never believed he could be worthy of accepting. "Why not?"
"It was just something . . . I needed to say."
He smiled in the dark. "Needed?"
Raising her head from his chest, her eyes reflected the honesty he always expected to find there. "Yes, needed. But—I don't want you to feel pressured," she assured, her voice not at all confident. "It's not . . . I don’t . . . need to hear back."
He couldn't help the chuckle that gently rocked them. "Ever?"
Her answer was an elbow to his ribs. A comfortable silence settled over them like a summer blanket. Surprisingly free of any tension. Curt marveled over it—that he wasn't startled. That she wasn't upset about his lack of response.
"I mean . . . I'd like to hear it—eventually."
Her grumpy words made him want to laugh, but, the vulnerability in her eyes stopped him cold. "You will, Shan." Kissing her gently, he caught glistening tears with his thumbs as they slid down her cheeks. Her emotional 'I love you' reverberated through him. He'd tried so hard to keep her at arm's length. To prevent her from entering the mess he knew his life to be. But, Shannon hadn't been scared off. She'd kept coming back. Like a long vacant, boarded-up house, she'd cleared out the brush and cut back the thorns in her quest to reach the front door. And then, in her quiet, determined, persistent way, she'd kicked the damned thing in.
Her open, honest beauty floored him. Holding her as she settled sleepily against him, Curt realized the strange flash of heat that had settled in his chest had grown into an odd, tingling ache. Emotion. Need. Love.
He loved her.
A flicker of fear wanted to take hold, but oddly, Curt dismissed it. Remembering his conversation with Travis a week earlier, he admitted he'd known it then. Because the night she'd talked him down after the nightmare . . . had provided a level of comfort he'd never experienced. In his worst moment—he'd finally been able to share a terrible burden with someone. To hold someone's hand and allow her to help him get through it.
It had taken thirty-three years on the planet to finally accept the gift Shannon had offered him. That night, he'd handed over his heart. All he could do now was pray she would take care of it . . . as he would hers. Once he was clear of the Cindy distraction, he could tell her. Everything. He wanted the press gone. The need for a PR team—over. He wanted the district attorney to leave him alone. He was tired of statements. Of reliving the past. Yet, he was relieved for the second chance it had provided. To be free. Unencumbered by the weight of guilt he'd carried forever, he could explore a shiny, new life with Shannon.
WHEN?
That's what Shannon wanted to ask. When would Curtis know he loved her? Her hyperactive brain working overtime the next day, she transferred a call, thankful for the oblivion of a relentlessly busy day. It wasn't fair to rush him. Curt’s actions spoke of fondness. Of caring- “You only get to control what you feel.” They'd spent a perfect night together, regaining some of the closeness she'd feared was slipping away amid the distraction caused by Cindy's reappearance.
Tonight—it could all change. Conscious of the clock, fear whispered across her neck. She hoped knowing she loved him would be important to him. Because tonight, she would confess her secret. Curtis had to know. "He should've known sooner," she muttered. But, she'd lacked the courage. Blaming it on timing was a convenient excuse—when the real reason stopping her was the fear of losing him. It had been an utterly selfish reason. Asleep by her side, the comforting weight of his arm slung across her waist, she'd realized the truth. How could she truly have Curtis—when he didn't know her? The real her?
Curtis had been truthful with her—about everything. His mistakes. His nightmares. His limitations. For as closed off as he'd been when they met, he'd eventually allowed her entry into his life, revealing everything. He'd trusted her with the darkest parts of his soul—willing to lose her if she'd been unable to handle his truth. Because he knew his past was important. Because he'd wanted her to make an unclouded decision about him.
While she'd withheld- "Just about everything," she muttered. Revealing only what she wanted him to see. She'd hidden her past from him—the important parts. Buried her own insecurities. Glossed over her mistakes with Brad. Played the victim instead of owning her actions. That she'd dug in, instead of cutting her losses. That she'd ignored her gut. Invalidated her own decisions.
Curtis deserved the truth from her. And she deserved the end result—whatever he decided it would be. The truth would set her free of the worry she lived with. It would allow for complete honesty with him. If they were meant to build a life together, it would be free of any shadows hovering over them.
If her revelation caused him to end everything—she would survive. With a vast regret over her mistakes, she would move on. Another job. A fresh start. A clean slate she would never risk dirtying again. Her words and actions going forward would be more thoughtful—conscious of the potential price they might demand of her later.
Despite her pessimistic mood, a thrill shot through her. Her apartment was finally ready, although ready consisted of a mattress on the floor and the first round of boxes stacked high in the living room. Her own place. A fleeting smile curved her lips. She'd already sketched out a furniture arrangement. Although the space was small, it was hers. Soon, she could begin her quest, scouring flea markets and junk shops for interesting pieces she could refinish. Running her hands over the fabric she'd selected for Curt's chairs, she released a sigh of satisfaction. The itch for another project had returned. This time, it would be for her. Pieces she wouldn't be forced to leave behind the next time.
The ringing phone on her desk jarred her from her thoughts. Grateful for the reprieve, she answered. "Hey, MaryJo. Sure, I'd love to have lunch with you. What time works for you?"
Chapter 14
"How's he holding up under all the press coverage?" MaryJo stirred her iced tea as the breeze swept chocolate strands across her face. She tucked them behind her ear. "Do I need to adjust the umbrella for you?"
"I've still got shade." It was the perfect Indian Summer day. A warm,
sunny day that would fade into a cool evening. A perfect day for lunch outside. Shannon traced the condensation on her glass. "He doesn't say much. But, the phone has been insane this week."
MaryJo's eyes widened. "Reporters?"
"No—work," she said with a smile. She was happy for Curtis. For the success he'd already earned and the future that finally appeared bright. "I've fielded calls from seven new clients this week alone." She shrugged. "If anything, the case being reopened has been great for Four Seasons."
"How's it going with you two?"
Despite the sunglasses shrouding her eyes, she knew MaryJo Lockwood's eyes were brimming with curiosity. "It's—going well. With Curtis tied up most nights, I've managed to get everything packed. My official move-in is Saturday, but I already have a mattress." She smiled, remembering the awkward, clumsy drag up three flights of stairs. Kerry complaining all the way—nearly knocking her over on the final shove over the threshold into her apartment. The box spring would arrive Saturday, when Kerry's boyfriend borrowed a truck and a few friends to deliver it.
"You're still moving?" MaryJo lowered her sunglasses, revealing her shock. "I figured you'd just stay at Curt's."
"No." She shook her head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. We're still . . . new together. I don't want to rush anything. It's not fair to him," she pointed out. "Especially now." Curt's life was in turmoil in practically every way. Adding a live-in girlfriend to the mix could end up being their breaking point.
A live-in girlfriend with secrets. A tremor swept over her when she allowed herself to think about the night to come. She'd already packed most of her stuff at his place. The rest, she'd finish tonight . . . in the event Curtis wanted her gone after her confession.
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