“Yeah, well make sure that you do,” Jax warned.
Grabbing his bag off the chair in front of him, Trevor pointed at him. “Because that girl doesn’t need to be hurt again.”
What the hell was this? Why the hell was he being drilled by Beavis and Butthead over here? Tying up his laces, he grabbed his gloves. “I heard you the first time.”
Walking out of the locker room, he was agitated. Trevor and Jax were absolutely right. Whitney didn’t deserve to be hurt again. Neither did Quinn. As relieved as he was that Adam was gone, it still made him want to break the bastard’s neck for leaving them the way he did. He had seen the damage Adam had done the moment he laid eyes on Whitney. Terrified and alone. Anxious and introverted. He also saw it the night they’d slept together, so insecure and vulnerable. Something had changed the other night when Quinn had been sick. Maybe realizing how alone Whitney really was in raising Quinn or how much she loved her daughter or maybe he just realized how much of a chokehold those two girls had on him, but the more he thought of them, the more concerned he was about screwing up. He had never been concerned about messing up anything in his entire life. Well other than Rory’s football career, but other than that, nothing. He took what he wanted and that was it. It really was that simple. But with Whitney it was different. So freaking different.
“Yo,” Shay called out to Myles standing at the entrance of the practice facility.
“Yo,” he mumbled looking behind him quickly before looking back at the field.
Stopping beside him, Shay slipped his receiver glove over his hand. “You look like shit.”
Scoffing, Myles rested his hands on his hips zoning out again.
“What’s up?” Shay asked, pointing towards the field. “What’s going on out there?” Myles had been off his game lately with a violent attitude to boot. Shay knew better than to bring up his lack of performance, but they had a fast approaching game against the Cardinals and he didn’t need to be concerned with the psychological stability of the man protecting his legs on the field.
“I want to propose to Charlotte.”
Raising a brow Shay looked back at him, trying to keep from laughing. “Like I didn’t already know that? Like the entire world didn’t already know that?” He liked Charlotte, he really did and the more he came to learn about her the more he approved of her for his best friend. He’d lost his wingman a long time ago and as much as he wanted to vomit at what a sissy Myles had become worshipping the ground that Charlotte walked on, he was happy for him nonetheless. And he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what was happening to him?
Nah. No way.
“I decided to test the waters and I asked her to move in with me and she freaked,” Myles said, still staring out at the field. He was quiet and calm and it was disturbing.
“I’m sorry, bro, that’s a,” he offered, searching for the right words, “that’s rough.” Truth was, he didn’t know what to say. Myles looked distraught and he was pissed that anyone, even if it was Charlotte, would hurt his best friend. “What now?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Myles stuck his hands inside his pockets. He didn’t like this. This wasn’t Myles. The man operated at a wattage off the charts and was loud. And motivating. And loud. “Well if it makes you feel any better I saw her the other day and she doesn’t look to be holding up any better than you,” Shay shrugged because he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t really good at this.
“No,” Myles snickered kicking the turf with his cleats. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Alright well if that doesn’t make you feel any better, then how about I have a big date with Whitney on Saturday and I’m really uneasy about it,” he admitted and it actually felt cool. To say that out loud. Because she was, in fact, scaring the hell out of him.
“Again,” Myles snarled, “not helping.”
The coach’s whistle blowing loudly around the arena, it was time to practice and they both needed to lighten some aggression and hard up feelings and there was no better way to do that than to hit the crap out of people. Cupping Myles’s shoulder, he shoved him towards the turf. “Come on, let’s get on the field and we’ll figure out what we’re doing with our dicks later.”
“I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned.”
Taking another lick of her chocolate ice cream cone, Whitney looked over at Shay, the apology earning her a warning look. She felt terrible about getting stuck setting up a low-key wedding in Beaufort and because they were so low on hands lately, she hadn’t felt right leaving Ross all by himself. Luckily, she had Liv who had been chomping at the bit to help, but it still hadn’t meant she could have just taken off.
“I still get you all to myself for a little while,” he said tugging on her hand, heat racing up her arm. “So it worked out pretty well.”
Why is he so wonderful?
Hiding a smile, she pointed to another charming shop ahead of them inside the small village they were walking. “Cookie,” she sighed, reading the small sign hanging above the door.
Shaking his head, he looked between her and her ice cream cone. “Your sweet tooth is something to be admired woman.”
Reaching for the door, she pulled on the old, rustic handle, but it was locked. Just like the last six stores they had tried. “Geez, what time do these places close?” she asked, cupping her hands to see inside the store. Awe man, she could practically smell the chocolate chip cookies too. Between not leaving the wedding until later than expected and Shay’s curfew for the game tomorrow, they had decided to meet halfway between the wedding site and his house. Which had landed them strolling through the most charismatic village she had ever seen filled with small shops. Shops that were closed nonetheless, but it was still quaint and adorable and she loved it.
Holding up his phone, Shay showed her the bright screen. “Dinner reservations,” he frowned before answering it and explaining that they wouldn’t be arriving for dinner. And now she felt even worse. He’d really been looking forward to dinner. She had been able to tell from his text messages all week, but coming behind her and sliding his arms around her waist before stealing a lick of her cone over her shoulder, he didn’t seem too heartbroken.
“Oooh, is that a shooting range?” she asked over a mouthful of ice cream pointing towards the small, weather-beaten shack. Snickering against her hair, she could feel him shake his head. Gosh, he felt so good.
This.
This between them felt so good.
“What do you know about a shooting range, Sunshine?” he asked inside her ear, his voice laced with humor.
Standing with him, so close, felt more natural and more comfortable than anything her mind could think of at the moment. “I’m from Louisiana,” she chuckled. “We learn to shoot guns before we learn how to multiply.”
Closing her eyes, she moved gently with the rhythm of his heart beating against her back before turning around. Lifting a brow, she looked up into his beautiful face, his mouth curved in amusement. “Come on Casanova,” she tossed her cone into the trashcan, taking his hand, walking backwards towards the shack. “Let’s see what ya got.”
Walking through the doors, the wood boards creaked beneath their feet as her eyes adjusted to the dark wood and dim lighting. Taking in the impressive display of rifles and shotguns hanging on the wall in front of them, she ran her fingers against the foggy glass case of semi-automatic pistols and other specialty handguns.
“How y’all doing this evening?” a large man asked, getting off a wooden stool behind the counter.
“Great!”
This was going to be fun. She hadn’t shot a rifle in a real long while and she was excited. Although not the most traditional choice for their perfect date night, but nonetheless it would be fun. Plus, there was nothing else in town to do. “Ohh, is that a Remington 700 model?” she asked the bearded man pointing up at the wall.
“Sure is, darlin’,” he agreed. “The lady knows her guns.”
Looking at Shay with his hands in
his pockets, she nudged him. “Come on. It will be fun.”
After Bobby helped them select their rifles, she lovingly held and admired a Hawkeye Varmint in her hands as they walked out back onto the covered hut. Expanses of land in front of them, the paper targets and berms off in the distance ran for miles and miles.
“You know, this isn’t exactly the best career move for me,” Shay warned slipping on his earmuffs.
“Why? Are you afraid you’re gonna shoot yourself in the foot?” she joked pulling her hair back off her face.
“No,” he snickered securing the muffs in place on either side of his face. “Because the last time I did this with a woman, it was with Erin. And she was pregnant, hungry and thoroughly pissed off at my brother.”
Laughing at the vision of Erin swinging a rifle around and yelling, she secured her own muffs before picking up her rifle unlocking the safety. Adjusting the heel, she stepped into a comfortable position just like her papa had taught her over the years before situating her hands. It was the only pastime her and her papa had shared that hadn’t included a golf outing or some perfectly scheduled tennis match that her mother had hosted for others in the neighborhood.
“That’s it,” Shay asked, looking ridiculously delicious just standing there. “You’re just going to start firing?”
“Well,” she stood up, slipping down her earmuffs again. “Yes.”
Edging closer, he closed the small gap between them, leaving her no choice but to look up at him. “Care to make it more interesting, Scott?” Running his thumb across her jaw, her skin felt as hot as standing out in the Louisiana sun. Everything about Shay was overwhelming. How his mind worked and his confidence in everything that he did. How gentle and sweet he was with Quinn and how she never felt that she had to apologize for being who she was. For what made her happy. “When I win,” he grinned, his blue eyes warming. “You come home with me tonight.”
Her hands beginning to sweat, she swallowed hard. The possibility of losing this bet and missing the targets completely was very real.
“And if I win?” she managed, her heart slamming against her chest.
“Then you can have anything you want, Sunshine.”
I just want you.
She couldn’t tell him that of course, with working on that big ego thing and all. “Deal,” she agreed, holding out her shaky hand and he looked down at it blankly. Taking her face between his hands, he inched closer, leaving no space between them and he kissed her gently. A kiss so small, but so intimate that she felt it all the way down to her knees. Swallowing the lump in her throat she took a breath as his eyes looked behind her to the firing platform.
“Ladies first.”
“I can’t believe I’m eating corndogs and drinking pop off the edge of a bridge.” Shay shook his head taking another bit of his corndog. Although it was a really good dog. “I had dinner plans at Circa 1886 and this awesome private table,” he trailed off telling Whitney. He didn’t want to make her feel bad, but he also wanted her to know that he had put effort into their date. Something he had never done before. He even called to make sure they would have the entire outside terrace to themselves. It was covered in tree branches and flowers and arches. All things he knew she would love. He hadn’t been able to control himself and no matter how hard he’d tried to scale back, even after Myles accusing him of trying too hard, he hadn’t been able to. He wanted it to be perfect.
For her.
“I happen to love corndawgs,” she smiled taking a sip of pop, her accent thick and rich. Yes, they certainly were not dining at a Zagat rated restaurant, but she was happy. And that’s all he wanted.
“So tell me, Sunshine,” he said tossing the stick into the red and white tray, wiping his hands. “What else do you love?”
Swinging her legs gently off the side of the bridge, the sun began descending for the day, the southern sky falling on her. She had handed his ass to him back at the shooting range, hence the corndogs, but watching her bend down in those cut offs and cowboy boots focusing on her target for over an hour, he’d been the real winner.
“I love the old school things,” she smiled gently after contemplating a moment. Her eyes fixed on the scene in front of them, the orange sun mirrored on top of the water and he felt like he was in the middle of some country song. “Things like handwritten letters and picnics. Phone calls and flowers.” Looking over at him, her face brightened and his chest grew heavy. “You know, all the things that people call cheesy nowadays.”
It wasn’t cheesy. It was sincere and authentic. Just like the woman beside him. No flash or hidden agenda, no self-serving goals or selfishness. No, she was sincere and compassionate and loving. The kind of girl who wore flowers in her hair instead of diamonds around her neck. He enjoyed that about her and the more time he spent, the more he was afraid he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Did he do that for you?” he asked roughly, not really sure where the question had come from. He was referring to her dick ex and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been bothering him lately. He couldn’t wrap his head around how any man could have left her and Quinn. Selfishly, he was glad Adam was gone because otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t be looking back into a pair of dark honeyed eyes harder than they had been seconds ago. Running her finger against the wood of the bridge between them she was quiet before shaking her head. He didn’t want to push her, but he needed to know. Needed to know if she still had feelings for him. If she still reserved some small spot inside her head and heart just for him. Adam was Quinn’s father. A biological honor that nobody could ever take from him and he found himself wanting to do just that lately. To take that honor. The thought of that scaring the hell out of him. “Do you still think of him?”
That was a stupid question. Of course she did. Probably every time she looked at Quinn. She had been engaged to the man, had a beautiful child with him, the thought of both was unsettling and infuriating. She was quiet another minute and part of him wanted to end the conversation, but he wanted to know. Needed to know. And he had a nagging feeling that she needed to talk about it as well.
“Not anymore,” she shook her head quietly, her long, thick hair sweeping off her shoulder. Taking her hand inside of his he rested it against the wood of the dock. “I used to be terrified that he was going to come back. Not for me, but for Quinn,” she swallowed looking up at him. “Sometimes I still am.”
Grinding his teeth at the thought, he shook his head. “You know I would never let that happen-,”
“I know,” she said quickly smiling nervously as if a part of her didn’t believe him. Which bothered him. He wouldn’t let anybody hurt her. Or Quinn.
Ever.
“We met junior year before we both began law school,” she shrugged.
“With all due respect, Sunshine. You would have made a lousy lawyer.”
Giggling, she bumped his shoulder agreeing with him. “Fast forward a few monotonous and agonizing years later, I told him and my parents that I was leaving school to go interview at Save the Date. He threatened to end things and my parents warned me that they would cut me off and I had made my peace with that because I knew this is where I needed to be. Where I belonged. And so I left the next day before I lost all nerve. So you can imagine my surprise when he had shown up not three weeks later with a ring offering to split his time between work in Louisiana and here in Charleston.”
He didn’t know why this was bothering him so much. But it was. It really fucking was.
“I was a little overwhelmed starting a new career and a little scared,” she admitted, running her thumb over his knuckles. “Okay, really, I was completely terrified and he was familiar. My parents approved of him and I was so tired of disappointing them, so I agreed.”
Pulling her leg onto the dock, she tucked it underneath her, turning towards him. Searching his face for a reaction, the orange sun shined on the side of her face. She was breathtaking and heartbreaking all at the same time. “We never belonged toget
her. We used I love you as a way out of vulnerable conversations and he didn’t really love me. By the time I found out that I was expecting Quinn, everything began on a downward spiral,” she confessed, wetting her lips. And he could tell she was forcing herself to be strong. To not engage with the demon that was haunting her. She was ripping him from the inside out and he never wanted to hurt somebody the way he wanted to hurt that bastard right now.
“I just thought that I could finally have a real family. A happy, perfect little family of my own. The kind that I didn’t have growing up,” she muttered quietly. “But it never would have worked, but that hadn’t stopped me from saying yes. Shortly after, he began to drink a lot and ramble on about not signing up for all of this and that having a baby was never part of the plan,” she chewed on her lip. “I’m still not entirely sure what he meant by all of that but I had my suspicions about him being unfaithful and when he’d come home that night,” she swallowed back against the words and he wanted to tell her to stop. He didn’t want her to finish what he was pretty goddamn sure she was going to say. He could see it written all over her face. “It was three weeks until my due date and I was hanging curtains inside the nursery. I heard him come in,” she said looking back out at the water and he closed his eyes. He needed to hear her say it so that he would have more than enough of a reason to kill Adam if he ever breathed near her again. “I knew he had been drinking and I shouldn’t have confronted him about it,” she shook her head again as if she had done something wrong. That notion pushing him over the line to furious. “He started ripping apart the nursey and when I grabbed his arm begging him to stop, he pushed me up against the wall.”
Clenching his fists tightly, he wanted to kill someone. And pretty damn sure that the image of what she was describing would haunt him for the rest of his life. Looking down in her lap a moment, she looked up at him again and he could see the painful memory clouding the most beautiful, soulful eyes he had ever looked into.
“This small shelf that I had just put up, fell down on me,” she cleared her throat. “I had just found the sweetest little snow globe that read ma’ favorite prayer on the inside,” she explained using her hands. “Well that had fallen too and broke on the floor and I just remember crying even harder.” Shame clouding her features, she looked embarrassed and he hated that. That guilt. That guilt that somebody, somewhere, had imparted on her a long time ago made him so damn angry. This woman was too genuine and too kindhearted to ever be ashamed of anything in her life. “He said that I had ruined everything by getting pregnant before spitting in my face.”
Hail Mary (The Mavericks Series) Page 22