by Rachel Cross
She looked a little embarrassed. “Well, maybe.”
God, he was going to miss her. “Only you could do that, you know, sweetheart.” His grin grew.
Blushing faintly and shrugging, she returned his smile.
Their eyes met again, not a problem in and of itself. The problem was that they held each other’s gazes a little too long. One of them should have looked away by now, and if she wouldn’t do it, then he ought to. But when had he ever been able to do the right thing?
For her sake, it was time for him to start.
Michael tore his eyes away from Shannon’s and turned back to look at the landscape before they could focus on something dangerous, like her mouth. “It’s time for me to leave,” he said finally.
“Leave? But you just got here.”
“I mean leave town.”
“What?”
He heard dismay in her voice, and he hated himself for the spark of hope it gave him. Such feelings were best squelched immediately. “I did promise to walk away if Drew refused to change his mind, remember?” he returned lightly. “I’d like to think I’m a man of my word.”
“Well, yeah . . . but—”
“I came to town to try to change my brother’s mind. That didn’t happen. I may have to live with that, but there’s no reason for me to stick around now and watch the fallout, is there?”
“Oh. I suppose not.”
The silence hung heavily in the air.
He could kiss her, that seductive little voice in his head whispered to him. Right now. Just turn around and pull her to him. And then she might forget about Drew. Because she was innocent and inexperienced when it came to passion, not like Michael. And passion might make her forget what she really wanted.
His body started to turn back around toward her almost of its own accord, and Michael dug his fingers into the wooden railing to stop himself. For once in his life, damn it, he was going to do the right thing. Shannon deserved her happy ever after, and Drew was the one who could give it to her. Drew was the good one, not Michael. If Shannon was feeling any kind of confusion about her feelings, it was time to take himself out of the equation and clear things up for her.
Even if the idea of her putting her arms around his brother made his gut churn.
Michael forced what was probably a poor excuse for a smile onto his face and turned back around.
Shannon’s eyes were downcast. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but seemed to struggle with whether or not to do so.
It might be best for both of them if she didn’t, Michael thought. His control over himself was weak enough as it was. “So . . . thanks. For everything. You more than held up your end of the bargain.”
She finally nodded without looking up.
He pried his fingers from the railing and took a step away from her.
“Michael?”
His traitorous body froze immediately. “Yes?”
“Maybe . . . you could stay a little longer.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “Well, for your brother.”
He felt a flicker of disappointment. “Drew? I can’t get out of town fast enough for him.”
“I mean . . . maybe it’s possible for you two to patch things up. He is your brother, after all. I think deep down he means a lot to you.”
“He does.”
“So isn’t it worth trying to fix things between you two?”
Michael’s smile was more genuine this time, but far from happy. “I don’t think that’s in the cards, sweetheart. It’s best if I leave now.”
She looked as if she wanted to say more. Before she could, he risked the effects of her proximity on his senses and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. It was a foolish chance to take, and he felt the sharp pull of desire as his lips touched the softness of her skin, but he allowed himself this last temptation because he knew he wouldn’t see her again after today. Selfish to the end, he thought. For a moment neither of them moved, and he breathed in the scent of her, his cheek brushing hers. A slight turn of her head, and his mouth would find hers in a second. Then he would be lost.
He forced himself to step back from her. Her eyes on him were so wide. It had been a mistake to come here, but if he left now maybe he could avoid causing irreparable damage. “Take care of yourself, Shannon. Make sure Drew appreciates what he’s got, all right?”
He gave her one more forced smile before finally descending the steps from the deck.
• • •
Shannon’s eyes followed Michael as he walked away from the deck. Away from her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected this, on some level at least. She wasn’t a fool or anything. He had been quite up front from the beginning: he was in town for one reason only—to protect his family’s home—and now that reason had disintegrated. Sure, they might have spent a little time together, but had she really expected that to change anything? Of course not, she thought with a lump in her throat. Not really.
But maybe she had hoped a little. The other night in his room had been so innocent on the surface, but it had been enough to leave her emotions a jumbled up mess. It’s not like he had to feel the same way that she did or anything, but—
Surely he must feel something? Surely there was something different in his manner with her today. His smile had no joy behind it when he said goodbye to her.
Only because of his failure with his brother, her inner voice taunted her. Not because of her.
But then the way he kissed her cheek . . . Shannon’s fingers touched her face where his lips had been a moment ago. Funny how the simplest of touches between them could have such a profound effect on her. Was it really so crazy to think it might have some kind of impact on him, too?
She took a step forward as if to go after him, wishing she knew the answer and wishing she had the guts to call after him.
Stay.
Stay because I want you to. Stay because you want me, too.
But her feet went no further, and Shannon’s mouth refused to form any of the words that were raging through her mind. When she tried, they were drowned out by the old familiar voice of self-doubt.
He couldn’t possibly feel the same way you do. Are you kidding? He’s Michael Kingston, every woman’s fantasy come to life.
What are you?
So she watched him walk away, her mouth still struggling to speak.
And failing.
Woman of confidence. Right, she thought miserably.
• • •
Michael shoved the last of his belongings in his duffel bag with more force than was necessary. There was one more person he needed to see before he left town. Slinging his hastily packed bag over his shoulder, he headed for the motel parking lot and his truck. One way or another, he was going to find a way to talk to Drew, even if he had to wait outside his apartment building all night.
There was a different doorman outside than the one who had barred his entrance here before, but he looked every bit as rigid as the last one. The residents here no doubt paid a small fortune to guarantee their privacy, and they certainly got their money’s worth. Michael’s most realistic option might very well be to spend the night in his truck in hopes of catching his brother on the way out the next day. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to resort to that.
“Good evening, sir,” the uniformed man greeted him politely with a bearing that would have made any military man proud. “Are you here to see one of our tenants?”
Michael stopped before him and glanced up at the rows of windows above them both. “Drew Kingston.”
“Is Mr. Kingston expecting you, sir?”
“No,” Michael said with a humorless laugh. “I seriously doubt it. But it’s very important that I speak to him.”
The man’s smile grew a little cooler. “And you are?”
“His brother. There’s a good chance he’ll tell you to kick my butt to the curb, but please, tell him I said he was right and I’m taking his advice, but I need to see him before I leave. Tell him it’s
about Shannon.”
“One moment.”
Michael turned away and stared into the darkening evening air, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. After tonight, would he be likely to come back and see this city or Drew again? Or Shannon? his inner voice echoed. No, he thought with a pang. Not for a very long time, if ever. People here were better off the farther he stayed away from them. But he wished he could have had a little more time before having to say good-bye to Shannon.
“Sir?”
The sound of the doorman’s voice made Michael turn back around.
“Mr. Kingston says you may go up.”
He felt a flicker of relief. “Thank you.”
It was a classy place, the décor tasteful and elegant without going over the top. Probably not the kind of place a city councilman could afford if he didn’t come from old money, Michael thought as he rode up in the elevator. But he didn’t begrudge his brother his inheritance. Drew would no doubt manage it much better than he would have, and Michael wouldn’t feel comfortable living in luxury like this. No, his apartment over his bar suited him much better, although the thought of going back to it now didn’t appeal to him as much as it would have a week or two ago.
Stepping out of the elevator, Michael searched for the right apartment number. There was a long wait after his knock, almost as if Drew had changed his mind about seeing him, but the door finally opened, and his brother greeted him with a stony stare.
“Thanks for letting me in,” Michael said evenly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Neither was I.”
“Can I come in?”
The younger Kingston hesitated, not looking overly thrilled.
“I won’t stay long.”
Wordlessly, Drew turned and let Michael follow him inside. “So was there any truth to what you told my doorman, or was it a line of bull to get in and hassle me about the house some more?” Drew asked coolly, pouring himself a drink but pointedly not offering one to Michael.
“No bull. I’m leaving town. And as far as the house goes . . . ” Michael gave a half-hearted shrug. “I may not agree with what you’re choosing to do with it, but I understand your reasons a little better now. I’m sure you’ll turn that place into something good. Something that will do a lot of good.”
“And what prompted this little change of heart?” Drew asked warily, clearly not convinced that Michael was sincere.
“Shannon.”
They stood in silence for a while, sizing each other up. Knowing he might not get this chance again, Michael struggled to make his next words count.
“Drew . . . I want to say that I’m sorry. For hurting Mom and Dad the way I did, for leaving you to pick up the pieces when I left—I shouldn’t have done that. I thought I had my reasons for leaving, but I handled things badly. Very badly. I’m sorry.”
His brother continued to watch him with a skeptical look on his face.
Fair enough, Michael thought. He supposed he deserved it. “I think about Mom and Dad a lot, Drew. Hard to believe, I’m sure, but I do. You look a lot like Dad, you know that?” Michael smiled wanly. “Right down to your suit and tie. They would be proud of you. Proud of who you turned out to be.” His smiled faded. “You were right. You would know what they wanted a lot better than I would. So, no, I won’t give you any more grief about the youth center.”
“Good,” Drew said stiffly.
“And about Shannon—” Michael’s gaze dropped. “She’s a very special person.”
“Yes, she is.”
“And she likes you. A lot. Be good to her, okay? And make sure she’s happy.”
Drew’s brow furrowed.
“That’s all I came to say. I’ll get out of your hair now.” Michael turned to go, but then he paused and looked back at his little brother, who wore a bemused expression on his face that sparked childhood memories. Michael smiled faintly, and a little sadly, too. “Do you remember that old apple tree we used to climb when we were kids?”
“Yes,” said Drew, clearly startled by the change in topic. “Why?”
“Do you remember the day you finally reached the top?”
“I got stuck.” Drew’s voice was quiet. “You had to help me down.”
“Sure I did, because I was the one who convinced you to climb it in the first place, and I knew Mom and Dad would kill me if they found out.” Michael stared at his brother, once again catching a glimpse of the boy he used to be. “But we both made it down okay. And you were pretty damned proud of yourself, too.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Do me a favor, Drew. Remember the good stuff, too.” Michael opened the door to go. “And when it’s the right time, please tell Shannon . . . ”
“Tell her what?”
It was a sentence he couldn’t bring himself to finish. “Never mind. Take care of yourself, Drew. And her, too.”
And Michael closed the door behind him, leaving Drew to frown speculatively after him.
Chapter Eleven
Shannon stared at the ceiling in her bedroom as darkness finally gave way to the grayness of dawn. She didn’t want to think about Michael, so naturally what had she done all night? Think about Michael. There had been an ache in her heart ever since he had left town a couple of weeks ago that seemed to get worse every time she replayed her last conversation with him in her head.
Should she have said something? But what if he didn’t feel the same way about her?
What if he did? Was it really so crazy that he might?
Most likely, yes.
She should have said something.
Shannon groaned and rolled over, throwing her pillow over her face. Beside her, Bo made a disgruntled sound before resettling himself on her bedspread. “Sorry, Bo,” Shannon muttered, her voice muffled by her pillow. “Don’t let my existential crisis disturb you.”
He didn’t, because a moment later he was snoring.
Shannon wrapped her arms tightly around her pillow, her face still buried in it. How had this happened? She had been perfectly happy before Michael showed up. Well, maybe not perfectly, but she hadn’t had this aching in her heart. Wistfulness, sure. Maybe a little longing and loneliness as far as Drew was concerned, but nothing like this dull kind of hurt that just didn’t seem to go away. What had happened to her?
She’d fallen hard, that’s what happened to her.
Shannon took a deep breath and felt it hitch in her throat. Unattainable men. She certainly knew how to pick them, didn’t she?
The sigh she let out made Bo snort awake again. The dog made an irritable grumbling kind of sound and leaped down from the bed in exasperation to go search for a quieter place to sleep.
Shannon tossed the pillow aside and stared at the ceiling again. Coward, she thought hollowly to herself. You should have said something. You shouldn’t have just let him walk away like that. Story of your life.
Because there was something there. Surely it hadn’t all been in her imagination. There was real warmth in his smile when he turned it on her.
But this was Michael Kingston she was talking about here. He knew how to get a woman if he wanted her, knew what kind of moves to make. If he had wanted her, he could have had her. In a heartbeat.
If.
Her alarm clocked beeped at her, and she reached over without looking to switch it off before lying still again.
If he had wanted her.
The ache in her chest grew more pronounced. Throwing off the bedspread, Shannon pushed herself up and out of bed just to try and divert her attention elsewhere. She knew by now that a hot shower—or maybe a cold one—and some breakfast would do little to distract her thoughts from what ailed her, but she would go through the motions nevertheless. And hope that maybe sometime soon the hurt would start to lessen.
• • •
“Drew Kingston’s office, Shannon speaking. How may I help you?” Her voice was flat and listless even to her own ears, but Shannon was unable to fake any amount of enthusiasm. “Pl
ease hold a moment.”
“Shannon?”
Shannon glanced up to see Clarissa hovering in the doorway. The older woman wore an expression of concern on her face.
“Honey, is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“It would be easier to believe that if I’d seen you smile even once in the past two weeks.” Clarissa frowned, peering closer. “And those shadows under your eyes keep getting darker. Not sleeping much, are you?”
Shannon shrugged noncommittally and pressed the intercom button for Drew’s office. “Phone call for you on line one. Zoning issue.” She released the button without waiting for a response from Drew and turned her attention back to her computer. Outwardly, at least.
“Oh, Shannon, won’t you please talk to somebody?”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Liar,” Clarissa returned gently.
Shannon made no further comment, and Clarissa finally gave up and returned to her own desk, frowning worriedly and shaking her head. Pulling up a random file on her screen to appear busy, Shannon took a slow, deep breath.
She was no stranger to unrequited feelings, but this time it seemed to cut more deeply. Maybe because a part of her had been naïve enough to actually hope something had affected Michael at least a little like it affected her. And so it wasn’t just that she felt unwanted or undesirable, but she felt foolish, too. Very, very foolish.
Her eyes grew wet, and she swiveled in her chair to reach for a tissue. As she did so, she met Drew’s gaze, standing in the now open doorway of his office. She blinked quickly to try to hide the moisture in her eyes. “I thought you had a phone call.”
“I asked him to call back. Shannon, would you come into my office for a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
She scrambled to think of an excuse that would let her avoid conversation, suspecting the topic would have something to do with Michael. “But the phone—”