Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds)

by Kearns, Morgan

  With her hand held firmly in his, they walked to the truck. Shayne could have found her way blindfolded. No maps. No guide needed. Tendrils of stench invaded her nose, grabbing hold of her sinuses, coating her lungs. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but the foul smell solidified into an even fouler taste. She rubbed her tongue against her teeth to scour her taste buds.

  Steer manure, whether it came out of a stall or a big white bag from Wal-Mart, was still shit.

  Ricky let go of her hand and jerked on the release for the tailgate. It dropped with a ka-thunk! Six bags, stacked in two rows of three, waited at the end of the bed to be unloaded. He looked around, his brows creasing. “Where’s the wheelbarrow?”

  “Flat tire.” Teresa shrugged. “Eddie said he’d fix it, but hasn’t yet.”

  Ricky clamped his eyes shut and breathed deep. “I’ll go pick up a new tire.”

  “You don’t have to. Eddie said he’d be by this afternoon to take care of it.”

  “Yeah, Eddie says a lot of things.”

  “It would be really great to get it moved so I don’t have to haul it around in the back of the truck for another week.”

  “A week?” He shook his head.

  “It’s really not a big deal, Ricky.” Teresa sidled up to him and Shayne’s blood heated to a rolling boil.

  The innocent act didn’t fool her for one second. That little snake knew exactly what she’d done. Shayne would bet every last dime she had—which amounted to about a dollar-fifty—that this wasn’t the first time the brothers had been pitted against one another.

  He took off his hat and plowed his fingers through his black hair. His muscles flexed under the weight of the twenty pound bag of crap. He didn’t even grunt when the bag came to rest on his shoulder. He lifted another one and put it on his other shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  Teresa hugged a bag to her chest and took off after him. “I asked for your help, not for you to do it for me.”

  Refusing to be outdone, Shayne grabbed a bag and followed them. He stopped at the edge of the cornfield. “Where to?”

  “The shed.”

  The answer meant nothing to Shayne, but Ricky nodded. Teresa led the way, Ricky on her heels. The stalks of corn stretched up trying to beat his six-feet.

  Not only did her load stink, it seemed to gain weight with every step. She shifted it, getting a better grip. Ricky apparently had the same issue. His bags did a controlled hop-skip-and-jump on his massive shoulders. The muscles in his back and biceps flexed under his shirt and all thought flew right out of her head. She couldn’t think, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the magnificent sight.

  Her foot landed funny in one of the trenches. Her ankle twisted, refused to support her and the extra twenty pounds of weight. Forget slow motion, between her cringe and her curse, she went down. Hard.

  Broken corn stalks offered no buffer against the hard, uneven ground. All the air rushed out of her lungs. The extra weight on her chest made it impossible to suck any back in. She rolled to her side. Or rather tried. In reality, she felt like a turtle stuck on its back, her arms and legs flapping in the breeze.

  Forever past. The twinkling sparks popping behind her closed eyelids started to dim. Her right leg started to go numb. She counted her heartbeats. Between one and the next, the weight off her chest disappeared.

  She sucked in a breath, gasping better than a large-mouthed bass. She blinked. Ricky’s worried expression crowded her.

  “Are you okay, amor?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” She reached up to rub hair out of her face. Man, her elbow was stiff.

  “Oh, Shayne.” He clutched her arm and examined her elbow. “Stay right here. I’m gonna grab the first-aid kit.” Not missing a beat, he snatched up the bag of manure in one hand and took off on a jog.

  Shayne closed her eyes for a second, then sat up to rub at her sore ankle. She’d really banged herself up. Even her fingernails hurt.

  “Are you always so graceful?”

  Perfect!

  “Do you realize the damage you’ve caused?” Teresa waved a hand over Shayne’s current resting place. “These are done now. No good. Ruined. They’ll not produce anything.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, sorry doesn’t produce corn.” She crossed her arms and huffed. “What the hell were you doing anyway?”

  Shayne stared at Little Miss Pit-Viper. “I fell.”

  “No shit. But what were you doing?”

  “I was following Ricky and I—”

  “And he was following me.” She bent at the waist and got right in Shayne’s face. “Who’s following you?”

  Shayne glanced back down the row of corn, wondering what she’d missed. Nobody was following her. Ah, but that was her point, wasn’t it?

  Ricky had been following Teresa, not Shayne.

  Although the situation wasn’t at all what Teresa tried to imply, the message rang out loud and clear. This woman wanted what Shayne had.

  “Don’t have an answer, huh?” She flashed her teeth in an evil little smirk. “Remember, he was following me.”

  A low, male clearing of a throat brought both of their attention to Ricky. He stood in the middle of the row, arms crossed over his chest, his tattoo seeming to dance. His narrowed eyes flickered like coal in a fire.

  Teresa didn’t say another word, just headed off in the direction of her truck.

  Ricky, on the other hand, dropped to his knees in front of Shayne. He took hold of her elbow. She flinched. “Sorry. I’m just so—” He ground his teeth and she watched him lock down his anger. After a few inhale/exhale sessions, he smiled at her. Gentle hands wrapped gauze around her elbow. “I am following you. Only you. Forever you. I love you, Shayne and I will follow you to the ends of the earth. Marry me?”

  She’d never experienced a proposal before, and she’d always imagined when one came from a man she loved she’d throw herself into his arms, pepper his face with kisses and shout her, “Yes,” so loud it would set off an earthquake in California.

  But all she could do was seethe. This man, this gorgeous, caring man didn’t listen to a damn word she’d said. His way or the highway. Well, she’d been independent for too damn long to let a man make her decisions. Even a wonderful man like Enrique Santiago.

  The happiness drained out of his face, along with all the color. Whatever he saw on her face, he read her like a book. He opened his mouth. She held up a hand and shook her head.

  “Don’t say another word.” She did her best to stand up, only barely accomplishing it by herself. Independence. Hear her roar. With every part of her aching, she stumbled down the aisle of corn to where Ricky’s SUV waited. Damn, she wished she had the keys.

  ***

  Well, if that wasn’t the biggest ass-slap of his life!

  Ricky watched Shayne struggle down the row, the stalks bouncing as she bumped them. Every part of him itched to jump to her aid, scoop her up in his arms and carry her off into the sunset.

  But he’d screwed up.

  Big time.

  His heart throbbed with a dull pain that grew sharper with each beat. The moment the heartfelt words came out of his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.

  He hadn’t meant to propose. Not that he hadn’t meant for Shayne Xavier to be his wife. That he wanted so badly he ached. But only two nights ago, she’d explained she needed time. Time he’d promised to give her. Until he opened his damned mouth and sent her scurrying for cover.

  He stood and scrubbed his face with his hands. He’d known Teresa wanted her claws in his flesh. Now that she was a free woman, she wanted Ricky to take her off the market. Not gonna happen.

  When he’d heard her insinuate there might be something between them and for Shayne to back off, he’d kinda lost his head. Obviously. He heard the door of his truck slam.

  And now he’d lost his heart.

  13

  Shayne stomped through the front door, slamming it. She threw her purse onto the end tabl
e. It skittered to the floor, its contents scurrying to hide under the couch. She hadn’t said a single word to Ricky during the ride home. She couldn’t. Of course, he’d apologized. But that only pissed her off more.

  How dare he propose?

  Okay, so the proposal itself hadn’t pissed her off, but his audacity. Only two days earlier, she’d laid her heart on the line, opened her soul to him and asked for time. Obviously he hadn’t heard a damned word.

  Pouring a glass of wine, she kicked off her shoes and sank down on the couch, feet tucked under her butt. Every part of her hurt. Her damn elbow ached like a bitch! She didn’t dare take off the bandage and look at it. She only wanted to take a bubble bath and crawl into bed.

  Her cell phone rang from somewhere in the dark recesses under the couch, a quiet plea for mercy. She set the glass on the end table and reached under the couch, a little worried about what might greet her. Only one filthy sock. She smiled a bit. Matt was learning.

  Ricky’s face smiled at her from the screen of her Android. She didn’t want to have it out with him while she still boiled, but… Her choice vanished, the phone going silent.

  But not for long.

  His face popped up again. Looked like he wasn’t going to give her a choice. Stupid man!

  She accepted the call, but didn’t say anything.

  “Shayne?”

  She grunted.

  “Can I come up?”

  “No.”

  “Please, amor.” Deep sigh. “I don’t want to leave things like this.”

  “That’s the problem!”

  “Come again?” The frustrating man had the cajones to sound honestly confused.

  “It seems to always be about what you want!”

  “That’s not fair.”

  She agreed. Her statement wasn’t fair. He’d bent over backward to ensure her happiness. But, right now, she felt like she’d been backed into a corner and, by damn, her teeth and claws were bared.

  “I’m not sorry for asking you to marry me. I don’t take it back. I am, however, sorry for not giving you the time you needed. Consider it done. Take as much time as you need, mujer bonita. I won’t call you. You call me when you’re ready. Just don’t ever forget I love you.”

  She could almost hear his heart breaking and the claws retreated, her lips covered her teeth. She opened her mouth to tell him to come up, to hold her, for them to ease the hurt away with the comfort of their bodies, but the line went dead.

  There was no going back. She’d said she’d wanted time. Time, not space. Her phone rang again. She answered and had it to her ear, voicing the, “I’m sorry,” without looking at the screen.

  “Shayne?”

  “Oh hi, Megan. I thought you were somebody else.”

  “Obviously.” Her laugh sounded forced. “I’ve got some news.”

  Shayne braced herself, knowing by the tone of her attorney—and that it was the freakin’ weekend—whatever the news was it wasn’t good. “Okay.”

  “The diner sold, everything inside auctioned off.”

  The stinging tears she’d managed to hold off since Ricky’s proposal forced their way to the surface. She tried to keep the wobble out of her voice when she said, “Okay.”

  “There’s a balance due.”

  “Okay.” She couldn’t find any other words.

  “I filed hardship paperwork. The IRS granted a stay of the levy.”

  “Okay.” Her whole body shook. Her skin prickled with goosebumps. She wondered when her blood turned to ice water. She shivered and clamped her teeth shut to keep them from chattering.

  Thankfully, Megan still had a brain in her head, answering the questions Shayne should have been asking. “That means as long as you’re not making any money, there’s nothing for them to take. When you get a job or show some other form of income, the balance will be taken from that income.”

  “Okay.” She brushed at her cheeks, nearly poking herself in the eye, her hands shook so badly. “How much?”

  “Just over seventeen thousand. Although, that amount will go up because you’re continuing to accrue interest.”

  “How am I…where do they expect me to come up with that kind of money?”

  “Don’t worry about it, honey.” Shayne pictured Megan’s older face, with its kind smile and tender wrinkles, and didn’t feel a single bit of comfort. “When you have a little bit of money to pay them, then we’ll worry about it then, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “We’ll talk soon.” The line went silent.

  The phone slipped from her hand, bounced on the cushion before making a final thud on the floor. Tears fell in a steady stream, covering her neck, spilling down into her cleavage. She rubbed at her torso with the neckline of her t-shirt.

  She stood, actually surprised her sore, shaky body held her up. She downed the contents of her wine glass and hobbled into the bathroom.

  The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked miserable. Not only heartbroken, but completely devastated. A pretty good assessment. In a matter of a few hours, her entire life had gone to hell in a handbasket.

  There was no way she could be with Ricky now. If she accepted his proposal, he’d be responsible for her debts. And that was totally unacceptable. She would figure out a way to climb out of her financial hole. Then, and only then, could she marry him.

  The front door opened and Shayne closed the bathroom door.

  “Mom?”

  “In the bathroom,” she hollered back. “Be out in a minute.”

  Her son wasn’t stupid, but she’d still managed to keep the worst of their situation from him. At least she hoped she had. Thanks to her brother, she had a roof over her head and food in her cupboards. But X couldn’t solve this problem for her. She wouldn’t let him.

  She splashed some water on her face and dabbed it dry with a towel. She still looked like a mess. Good thing she’d fought with Ricky today. That excuse would work with Matt.

  She walked back out to the great room to find Matt already plopped down on the floor, game controller in hand. “Did you and the guys have fun?”

  “Yeah.” He jerked to get his two-dimensional man to move on the screen. “Joey’s afraid he’s not going to make the team.”

  “But he’s really fast.”

  “And good. But he’s short.”

  “So?”

  “That’s what I told him.” Another jerk and a blast of a laser gun. “Hey, where’s Ricky?”

  “He, ah—” Her voice broke. The tears started again.

  The controller hit the floor and Matt jumped to his feet. He raced over to her. “Mom, what the hell happened?”

  “We didn’t see eye-to-eye on some things.”

  His eyes did an inventory, his mouth fell open. “So he beat the crap out of you? Tell me there’s another reason you look the way you do.”

  “No, no. I fell.” His skeptical look made her chuckle. “No really, I fell.” She explained the bags of manure, the rows of corn and the fall. She purposely left out the proposal.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitantly reached out and took hold of her elbow, twisting it to see the bandage that now oozed a bright red. “Are you sure you don’t need stitches?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t look at it.” So much had happened she didn’t even know how bad it was. For all she knew, it could be barely hanging on by a tendon. Sure as hell felt like it. “Ricky wrapped it up for me.”

  “Mom, what happened? With him?”

  “Ricky’s wonderful—” She choked back her blubber and swallowed. Hard. Twice. “He’s a great guy. We just need some time apart.”

  “You’re on a break?”

  All she could think of was that stupid Friends episode and prayed Ricky didn’t know any copy shop girls. “Yeah, I guess we’re on a break.”

  Matt bit his lip and focused on his Vans. “Does that mean I’m on a break, too?”

  “No, sweetheart.” She hugge
d him to her. His arms went around her waist and he patted her back. She kissed his temple, pulled back and ruffled his hair. “No, I don’t have any problem with you and Ricky hanging out. Like I said, he’s a great guy. I think the world of him.”

  “Then why?”

  She shook her head. “That’s between me and Ricky.”

  “Okay.” He strode back around the couch, picking up his controller as he dropped back down on the floor, leaning against the couch. “I think it sucks though.”

  ***

  Ricky wasn’t surprised his phone rang. He was, however, surprised when Matt’s number flashed on the screen. “Hey big man, what’s up?”

  “You tell me.” Seriously protective man-child sounded a lot like his uncle.

  “I didn’t hurt your mom.”

  “Then why’s she crying?”

  Dammit. He hated to think of her crying over him, but at the same time that had to be a good thing. At least she hadn’t already joined eHarmony.

  “We’re…we just…”

  “You’re on a break. I get it. What I wanna know is wh…” The kid cleared his throat. “Why? What happened, Ricky?”

  So Shayne hadn’t told Matt the whole story. “Does your mom know you’re talking to me?”

  “No. She’s in the bathroom, crying, but she wouldn’t care. She says you’re a great guy and that you’re on a break.”

  “She said that, those words? That we’re on a break?”

  “Um…I asked her, but yeah, she said yes.”

  Just freakin’ perfect.

  “When you guys dropped me off, you were fine.” Big frustrated sigh. “What the hell happened?”

  “Language.”

  “No! My mom’s crying, she looks like you beat the crap out of her and—”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know you didn’t hit her. But something happened.”

  Ricky went through the entire story, leaving out the worst moment of his life, finishing with, “So I promised to give her some time—and space.”

  “That sucks.”

  Ricky’s chuckle sounded bitter and brittle to his own ears. “I agree, kid. It totally sucks.”

  “How do we fix it?”