I turn my head, looking at the houses we pass. I spent a lot of time over here, and at Kylie’s when we were teenagers. That thought makes me think of something else.
“Do Kylie’s parents still live in the same house?”
“Same house across the street from mine,” he nods.
“Is she coming home?” I ask.
“You still haven’t called her, have you?” A sigh leaves his lips. “No. She can’t take off work, but she’s planning on being here for a few days during Christmas.”
At his mention of Christmas, I see a house lit up with Christmas lights, making me laugh. Thanksgiving isn’t even over yet. And then I laugh harder because I know exactly what house it is. Or whose house it is. It’s Shane’s parents’ house. Pam loves Christmas, and I remember she used to go all out. She had even won several awards when I was in high school for her outdoor decorations.
“Momma, look.”
“Loooook, Momma.” Emersyn tries to copy her sister, no doubt they’ve both seen the same thing I have.
“That’s where we’re going, girls. That’s Shane’s parents’ house.” I turn my head as he eases into the driveway. He isn’t looking at me because he’s parking the SUV, but he’s got a smile on his face knowing I knew this was his childhood home.
My cell phone that I’m clutching in my hand chimes with an incoming text message. Flipping my wrist, I groan at Blake’s name above the preview of the message. I don’t even attempt to read any of it. I’m sick of him.
“Love?” Shane questions, calling me by the name I can’t get enough of hearing. I love that only he calls me that. I love the way it penetrates my soul every time he does. I’ve always been able to feel the meaning behind how he says it.
When I don’t answer, he swipes the phone from my palm. He eyes the screen, reading what’s there I know.
“Let it go,” I tell him, unbuckling my seat belt. “Let’s get out.” I urge, but he just studies me. Then without breaking eye contact, he starts to unlock my phone. Oh, crap. Dread enters me, coating my insides. “Forget it,” I say with a little power behind my words. “Let’s get out and go inside your parents’ house.”
Nothing. He just keeps looking at me like he’s trying to read if I’ve been keeping something from him. Sure, I haven’t mentioned the text messages Blake’s been sending, but I can handle them on my own. Shane doesn’t need any more shit to deal with. He has enough to last a lifetime. We both do, but I’m not adding more.
Breaking eye contact, he unbuckles his seatbelt, but he’s still looking at the phone. I know he’s not going to let it go. I know he’s about to read every single message between Blake and myself.
Turning in my seat, I look at Everly. “Unbuckle your sister for me, but both of you stay in here for just a second. I need to speak to Shane before we go in.”
She nods, and I get out of the vehicle.
“Why haven’t you told me about this?” He doesn’t lift his head. He’s intent on continuing to read more.
“Would you just let this go?”
“No. And I want an answer, Whitney.”
“Don’t say my name like that.” I cross my arms, refusing to answer him and realizing at the same time how much of a child I’m starting to act like.
“Like what?” His head pops up, and then he steps toward me. I don’t retreat, even though my instincts fight to make me do me so. When Shane is passionate about something, he can be almost as intimidating as his brother. He never realized that when we were younger, and I doubt he realizes it now. I’m not scared. I’ve never been scared of him. If there is one person I’m certain of, it’s this man in front of me now. He’d never do one malice thing to me. That I’m sure of. Not even when he’s angry with me for keeping something this small from him. “Like I’m mad at you? Yeah, you never did like it when you were on the receiving end of pissing me off.”
He takes another step forward until he’s towering over me.
“The girls are watching.”
His face jerks to the windshield and instantly he cools his facial expression. Shane breathes out, then looks back down at me. “You don’t keep this shit from me,” he says holding up the phone. Placing it in my hand he continues, “This is gonna stop. I’m calling Jacob first thing next week if it’s too late to do anything tomorrow because of the holiday,” he adds. “Something will be done to stop this. That has to be considered harassment.” He gestures with a nod to the phone I’m clutching.
“Fine.” I bark out, wanting this conversation over with. “But then,” I say, forcing myself to speak softer. “I want you to forget about it and enjoy this. Enjoy us, Shane. We have each other again. That’s what we need to focus on, okay?”
He licks his lips and instantly my core contracts, remembering what those lips did to me this morning. And from the look in his eyes, he knows what I’m thinking about.
Lowering his head, he whispers into my ear, “I have a bed I plan on reacquainting you with later, Love.” I squirm as his voice penetrates, touching every nerve inside my ear, sending tingles down my spine. I remember everything we ever did in his childhood bed, and those thoughts on top of what he’s promising, sets me on fire.
Leaning back up, he smiles that cocky grin that makes me want to skim my teeth down his cock just to watch him squirm the same way he makes me.
“Promises, promises, promises,” he tsks at me, obviously being the mind reader he is as he steps backward. “I got our stuff. You get the kids.”
As I’m opening the back door to let Emersyn out, I can’t help but bask in his words. It’s like we’re already a family. He’s getting all the bags from the back, and I’m wrangling the girls out.
Is that what we’ve become? Can that even be possible this soon, and when I’m still married? Is it right? It feels right. It feels good. And since when have I cared what’s right in other people’s eyes? Since you’ve been married to douche-prick for the past ten years, I remind myself. Between him, my parents, and his parents, they did try to change me. They did try to mold me into what they wanted. And maybe for the most part they succeeded. I kept so much inside me, never voicing my thoughts or wants because I knew none of them would approve.
In a lot of ways, I’m ashamed of that. I allowed them to push me to be someone I always knew deep down I wasn’t. I can use the excuse of my child, but that only gets you so far.
I know I was trapped, figuratively and in reality. I didn’t have any friends, any support. I had no means to leave Blake and make it on my own. In a lot of ways, I was a prisoner in his world and in my mind. Those memories were always just out of my reach. They were hidden behind a thick cloud of fog and no matter how much I reached or how hard I tried to see through it, I couldn’t.
Until Shane.
And now I just have to make sure I keep him. Because with those memories came more demons for me to battle. The same fears I had years ago still run rampant in my mind. Even back then I didn’t understand why he put up with me, why he loved me—still loves me, or always took me back.
I’m twenty-eight years old, and I still don’t know what I want to do. Something is still missing; although, I don’t feel that emptiness inside me anymore. I haven’t felt that since the night Shane walked back into my life—or maybe I walked back into his. Yet, there is something I know I’m meant to do. I love being a mother. I’m not sure if anything could ever surpass that, but I need more.
Fuck, maybe I just need to find a hobby to help control my never calm mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Shane Braden
Dinner was spectacular, as it is every year. My mother outdid herself though. Between the Christmas decor that’s always up by the last week in November and the food that could’ve fed at least twenty more people, I’m still stuffed from eating earlier, and now I feel settled. Being in my parents’ house has had a tarnished feel until I walked through the doors two nights ago. I’ve never been able to get the images from the night I was told Whitney w
as gone forever out of my head. So it’s a relief to be able to be at my parents’ and enjoy being here with them.
And now having my own family here, it’s another feeling entirely. Whitney may not be my wife yet, and one day she will be, but she is my family—the girls too. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if I were to lose them after just gaining them.
When she started spouting off her memories, I was both stunned and scared. Scared because I didn’t want to believe it and then it not be real. Like now, as happy as I am to have the three of them in my life, I can’t stop the terrifying feeling it won’t last.
I think back on my conversation with Jacob.
“Blake’s harassing her and I want it to stop. I want him out of her life, Jacob. There has to be something—anything—that can be done to get him out of her life and out of Emersyn’s. He’s using their daughter to get to her.”
“You have proof of that?”
“Just text messages he’s sent her.”
“What kind of messages? What did he say exactly?”
“Sir, I don’t know verbatim. He keeps telling her to come home. To stop the divorce. To put their family back to together. Shit like that. Then he goes off when she doesn’t respond to his messages.” The man is a psycho if you ask me.
“But he hasn’t made any threats?”
“Not that I read,” I admit through clenched teeth. “Jacob, come on. This isn’t right. No one, man or woman, should have to deal with what he’s trying to do to her.”
“I agree, Shane. But I need to know everything, even the smallest of details, so that I can proceed the right way.” He’s silent for a moment. “Shane, he shouldn’t have been awarded joint custody. No judge I’ve ever come across would have ruled the way he did.”
“What are you saying?”
“That it’s possible he or someone bribed the Judge to make that happen.”
I jump from where I’m sitting on the stool at the bar in my parents’ kitchen when a firm hand shakes my shoulder. “Shane,” my dad exasperates.
Turning my head, I realize he must have been calling me. “Sorry, Dad. I was lost in my own world,” I tell him, shaking my head.
His brown eyes meet mine with concern burning through me. Flicking his chin to the side, he heads toward the table off to the side of the kitchen where we ate dinner a few hours ago. I swivel, sliding off the stool to follow. I drop down into the chair seconds after he does.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“She has her memory back.” I kick my head to the side to look at Whitney. She’s talking to my mom. They’re laughing, and that warms my heart. I really never expected to be here—with her—again.
“Yeah,” is the only word I have for him. They were elated when we arrived two nights ago to find out she remembered. I look back to see him watching me. “What is it, Dad? You obviously have something on your mind. Let’s hear it.”
“I know you’ve already been accepted into the fellowship program, but have you considered with everything that’s happened, maybe it’s too much to take on right now?” He holds up his hand before I get a chance to say anything. “Just hear me out.” We stare at each other for a few seconds before I nod for him to continue. “What about coming home for a year or two? Peds is where your heart is. I get that, just as it is for your mom. Go into general practice instead of the surgical fellowship. Just for now, what about joining your mom’s practice when you complete your residency in June?”
“Dad, I don’t—”
He doesn’t allow me to say no.
“Just think about it. You don’t have to decide today or tomorrow, but you do need something solid for your family.”
The family indication doesn’t go unnoticed. And it’s not like I haven’t thought about this. I have. I just haven’t allowed myself to stress over it. With all that’s happened, I haven’t had a real chance to let my mind consider much of the future. But letting myself do that now, it makes me realize how much I hate when he’s right.
Going into Pediatric Cardiology has been my plan from the beginning when I decided I wanted to be a doctor, then when I decided I wanted to be a pediatric doctor it was going to be the best of both worlds. I worked at my dad’s clinic too in High School. It was fascinating; cool even.
“I . . .” I look up when Whitney’s hand roams over my shoulder. She smiles, and I bring her down onto my lap. I wrap my arm around her. “Look,” I finally say, glancing back to my dad from where he sits across from me. “I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I’m asking, Son.”
“Consider what?” she inquires.
“Just work stuff,” I say, being vague because I really don’t want to get deep into this conversation. In fact, what I really want is to spend time with my daughter. Between my mom and Shawn, I haven’t seen either of the girls. Now is a perfect time to let Everly practice on the guitar. “Hop up.” I pat Whitney on the hip, indicating I want her to get off my lap. “I’m going to go find Everly and see if she wants to practice the guitar.”
“It’s getting late, Shane.” She stands, and I look at the clock on the microwave, noting it’s half past nine. “Can you do it quickly and make sure she brushes her teeth and is in bed by ten?”
“It’s a holiday,” I comment.
“Yes. Which is why she’s already gotten to stay up an hour later than she normally does.”
“Get off her ass, Whit. Let the kid live a little.”
“She’s nine,” she deadpans, making me laugh as I stand.
“Almost ten. And speaking of, Mom wants to throw her a birthday party next weekend.”
“Really?” Her eyes get big, excited. She turns, facing my mom. She’s walking away from the sink where she just finished cleaning all the dishes we dirtied. “You want—”
“Angel,” Mom says as she settles on my dad’s lap. “Of course we do. Besides, any excuse I can find to spend more time with my granddaughters, you better bet I’m going to use it.”
The word, “granddaughters” doesn’t go unnoticed by either Whitney or myself.
“Thank you. That would be . . . Thank you, Pam. And Bill, thank you too.”
“No need, Whitney.” My dad pulls my mom tighter. “We’re beyond happy to have you back, and we gained two beautiful girls in the process.” He pats my mom’s hip the same way I did Whitney minutes ago. “Honey, I’m beat. Please tell me you’re ready to go to bed?”
“I am.” They both stand as well. “Night, kids.”
My dad scrubs a hand over his face, showing me just how worn out he is. Maybe Whitney is right. It may not be that late, but it has been a long day.
“Night,” we both say simultaneously to my parents as they walk past.
Pulling on Whitney’s arm, I stop her before she leaves. “If you want her to go to bed then—” She stops me by putting her lips on mine and wrapping her arms around my neck. I smile through the kiss.
“Go teach our daughter how to play guitar. She gets to sleep when she gets to sleep.”
“I love you.” I’ve never been shy or uncomfortable telling her those words, and since her memory has returned, I can’t stop them from flowing out of my mouth.
“I know you do.” She shoots to her toes to kiss me once more. “Now, go. I need to go find the other kid and dump her in a tub or maybe just the bed and bathe her tomorrow.”
Releasing her, I head out of the kitchen and walk into the living room, first seeing Everly with her legs crossed, watching TV. Swiveling my head to the side, Shawn is lying down on the couch with one arm covering his eyes and the other wrapped around Emersyn. He’s lightly snoring, telling me he’s asleep. Emersyn is sprawled across his chest with strands of blonde hair covering her pretty little face. She’s asleep too.
This sight does something to me. It makes me proud and tells me how blessed I am. I know Shawn is a great guy and a good brother. He’s hard to handle, and Taralynn is probably the only woman in the world who can handle him. But people have al
ways had to earn his love or friendship. Even Taralynn had to prove to him that he was worthy of her love. I say that, but now I wonder if he’s actually accepted it. They seem fine. They look fine. But looks can be deceiving. All I can do is pray because this sight right here gives me a glimpse as to what kind of dad I hope he’ll be one day. These kids—my kid—didn’t have to earn anything. He loved them from the moment I brought them into his house.
Yeah, he’ll make a good father, and hell, how could he not? Our dad is there for us during the easiest of times and the hardest.
I see her watching me out of the corner of my eye, so I turn my focus from my brother to her. She quickly moves her head back toward the television.
“Hey. Come on.” I tell Everly as I scoop the guitar up. “Let’s go in the backyard. We can practice out there and not wake my brother or your little sister.” She unfolds her legs.
Once I’m back through the kitchen with her following behind me, I open the sliding glass door that leads out onto a deck that overlooks into my parents’ backyard. There’s a wooden play gym for kids that’s seen better days, a tire swing hanging from the big Bradford Pear, and a pool that’s covered for the impending winter.
Descending the steps, I head toward the outdoor lawn furniture that’s alongside the length of the pool.
I sit, pulling another closer toward mine and motion for her to sit down.
“Are you cold?” I didn’t think to have her throw on a hoodie since it’s breezy out here tonight.
“I’m . . . good.” She tells me, sounding unsure and making it hard to tell if she’s telling me the truth. I decide not to push.
“Here.” I hold the guitar out in front of her. I’ve already decided I’m getting her one of her own for her birthday. I picked it out a couple of days ago on my lunch break. I rarely take one, but it was slow for once in the ER, so I walked down the street to a local music store.
When she takes the instrument, I grin proudly as she positions it on her lap and her hands on the guitar just as I’ve taught her.
More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Page 21