Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3

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Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 Page 23

by Dorothy F. Shaw


  His girl might be extreme, but she was worth it, and because he knew that, he couldn’t stay away.

  Shane raised the sprayer and laid the first coat of paint over the wall. With even sweeps he had the largest wall coated in a matter of fifteen minutes. He stood back, checked to see he hadn’t missed anything. Pleased, he moved to the next.

  By the time he’d finished all three walls, Joey sauntered in, pizza box in hand. “Delivery! Oh, hey, that looks fucking awesome!”

  Shane wiped the sweat from his brow. “Thanks! You get the paint or just the pizza?”

  “Pfft, bitch, please.” Joey walked to the kitchen but returned empty-handed. “No, no, I see you got your hands full, deary. I’ll grab the paint.” He winked and disappeared outside.

  Shane grinned and set the spray gun down. His stomach rumbled and he moved to the kitchen. After washing his hands, he grabbed a couple paper plates and two slices.

  “Aw, you can’t even wait for me? I’m so hurt.” Joey grabbed a couple slices for himself and bit into one.

  Shane laughed around a mouthful and then swallowed. “Baby. Do you need a new diaper?”

  “Yes!” Joey pouted, took another bite and pulled two fresh beers from the fridge. “Steph text you?”

  Shane took the offered beer. “Yeah. She’s cool. Thanks for this. The beer and the help.”

  “No thanks needed.” Joey clinked his beer to Shane’s. “Can’t promise Steph won’t call in a favor when she wants the master bath redone though.”

  “Anything you need.” Shane bit into his pizza and eyed the clock. Shit it was almost five. “Gonna be super close.”

  “Better move your ass. Is it ready for another coat?”

  Shane tilted his bottle back, washing down the last bite of pizza. “Need to give it another fifteen minutes. Let’s go unwrap the new rug and get the tables out of their boxes.”

  “Meet you out there.” Joey grinned and lifted another slice from the box. “Swear to God, two minutes.”

  “Uh-huh. All right.” Shane moved to the garage and got things in order out there. Once done, he came back in and laid another coat on the walls, then touched up any drips. The extra gallons Joey had grabbed got used with a little left over for future touch-ups. Perfect.

  Shane stepped back and turned in a circle. “What d’ya think?”

  “Looks fantastic. Really. I can’t say I’m impressed because I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, but dude, seriously, solid work.” Joey clapped him on his shoulder. “And it’s almost six and Steph just texted. So you better move your ass. Thinking you got forty-five minutes max until Cyn gets home.”

  “Fuck. Shit. Hell.” Shane grabbed the sprayer and brought it outside. Joey came out after him, empty paint cans in his hands. “Joey can you flush this thing while I start tearing down plastic?”

  “On it.”

  “Thanks.” Shane ran back in and carefully started pulling blue tape from the trim, and then the plastic drop clothes. When done, he slid the couch and chair back in place, careful to not touch the walls with them. He’d already removed the old area rug, so he ran out and grabbed the new one and laid it down on the hardwood floor.

  After that, he brought in the tables. He hadn’t removed any nails so the pictures and other wall decorations, including the flat screen, went back into place as well as the large Roman shade on the picture window. Shane spun in a circle again, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. “Lamps!”

  “Got ’em.” Joey ran out, returning with both lamps in hand.

  Shane grabbed one and set it on the end table near the chair, while Joey set the other up next to the couch. After arranging a few more decorations in their places, the room was put back together. Shane glanced at the time—six forty-five. Any minute she’d be pulling up. Shane palmed his phone and shot Cyn a text.

  Shane: Hey girl, you coming home anytime soon?

  Cyn: On my way. In traffic on the 5. Need anything from the store?

  Shane: Milk. Wine. Creamer.

  Cyn: Will do.

  Shane: Thanks. See you soon. Careful driving. Stop texting.

  Cyn: Stop messaging me you freak. Lol

  Shane laughed and blew out a breath. “I just gave her a grocery list. It’ll give me time to shower.”

  “Good call. And that’s my cue to go. Hope she likes it. Good luck.”

  Shane gave his best friend a hug. “Me too, man. Me fucking too.”

  After seeing Joey off, Shane made sure the kitchen was cleaned up. The final touch was a vase full of white roses he’d given her the other day that were still in perfect bloom. She’d kept them in the kitchen. Shane set them in the center of the coffee table, lit a few candles and headed for the shower.

  While under the spray, he prayed she’d be happy with the update. Shane wanted so badly to see that smile of hers.

  * * * * *

  Cyn pulled into the driveway and attempted to pull in the garage, but couldn’t because—what the fuck—her coffee table, end tables, lamp and area rug were where her Wrangler was supposed to go. Agitation reared up like a tsunami and Cyn threw the Jeep in Park and turned off the engine.

  Stepping out of the vehicle, she opened the back and pulled out the two small sacks of groceries. “Don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing.” She closed the tailgate and walked into the garage. “But he better have a goddamn good reason why my shit is in my garage and not in my living room where it belongs.”

  Cyn stormed into the kitchen. “Shane?” No answer. The lights were off and only the fading sunlight lit the room. Cyn continued on, heading for her bedroom but stopped short in front of the living room. The blinds were closed, as she’d been keeping them, so the room was more than dim but for the flickering light coming from a few candles in the space. “Shane?”

  A light came on and Cyn focused in that direction. Shane was sitting in her overstuffed chair, leg bent with an ankle resting on one knee, and a single white rose in his hand. “Glad you’re home.” He smiled.

  Cyn frowned. “Why is my stuff in the garage?” She rubbed her forehead. “And why are you sitting in here?” Shane’s smile faded and Cyn had a sinking feeling she was missing something. Shoving the feeling aside, she crossed her arms and waited for an answer, to both questions. He just stared at her, an expression on his face she swore looked a lot like confusion and maybe sadness. What the fuck! “Shane?”

  He got to his feet and approached her. “Do you not see?”

  “I see that my stuff is in my garage and I don’t know why.” Craning her neck back, she stared up at him.

  “Yeah—” he glanced away and then back to her, “—I get that you see that. But don’t you see why?”

  “Shane what the hell’re you talking about? Can you not answer my question?”

  “Wow, really?” Shane moved to the window and opened the shade. The room filled with the fading daylight. Then he moved to the other end table and turned on the lam—

  Wait! Cyn’s eyes went wide as the room came into focus around her. She looked at the end table, the one that wasn’t hers to the lamp that also, was not hers. She shifted her focus to the different rug in the center of the room to the coffee table, then let her gaze travel over the—oh my fucking God—walls. “What did you do?”

  “I gave it a face-lift. I gave it a change so you could—”

  “Why would you do this? I didn’t ask you to do this?” Rage boiled within her, lying in wait to explode like a volcano. “What the hell, Shane? So I could what?”

  “So that maybe you’d feel better about the room and be comfortable coming in here again.” His voice was low, his tone filled with…disappointment?

  She pushed that down too, fuck his disappointment. “I didn’t ask you to do this. Did it occur to you that maybe you should’ve asked me first? This is my home, Shane. Not yours. Fucking
hell! And so you know, I am not paying you for this.” She pointed her finger at him and he flinched. She pushed that down too. It didn’t matter. “Take it back if you want because I don’t want it.” Cyn turned and stormed down the hall toward her bedroom.

  “Hey, Cyn?” She stopped short at the harsh tone in his voice, and looked back at him. “Receipts are on the table. You fucking take it back if you don’t want it.” Shane dropped the rose in his hand on the floor and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Again, his voice was low, but this time his tone was laced with anger. Cyn stared into the space he no longer occupied, fury bursting through her at a fevered rate. The door to the garage slammed and she flinched. Well, fuck him and his tone, plus his grand gestures. He shouldn’t have done this.

  Cyn moved to her bedroom, closed the door and locked it. Sliding off her pants, she climbed into bed. He could sleep on the couch when he came back—if he came back. As her anger cooled, Cyn’s last thought was one filled with guilt before sleep finally took hold.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cyn felt the bed dip, and then the familiar feel of Shane’s body spoon up behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, snugged her closer to his body and pressed his nose to her hair. She had woken up a little while ago, a bad dream she guessed, but then wandered out of her bedroom to see if Shane had come back. He hadn’t.

  She did, however, really look at all the things he’d done to what’d become her least-favorite space in her home, and although Cyn still didn’t want to go into the room, she realized what he was trying to do for her. And her heart broke.

  She’d run back to her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, guilt coating her insides like thick molasses, feeling like the biggest raving bitch this side of the Mississippi.

  Shane moved his hand down her stomach to her hip and let out a sigh. Unsure if she wanted him to know she was awake, Cyn hadn’t moved or responded to his touch. But the guilt was growing. And shame was weaving its way through her veins too. This kind and loving man was only trying to take care of her, and no matter what she did, Cyn couldn’t seem to let him.

  It was as if she’d lost all control of her moods or temper, or even the ability to see the concern people had for her.

  Shane, along with everyone else close to her, kept saying she needed to see a therapist, but Cyn just…she just didn’t want to give in. And maybe it was stupid, but she really felt as if giving in and seeking professional help meant Carlos had won. There was no way she could let him win, and that meant dealing with it herself.

  But no matter how hard Cyn tried, she failed and ended up blowing her top like some lunatic on steroids.

  “I’m sorry I lost my cool and walked out,” he whispered to the back of her head.

  Cyn closed her eyes as a tear ran over her nose onto the pillow. He was sorry? For fuck’s sake, he had no reason to be sorry.

  Shane moved his hand around her stomach again. “Babe, I know you’re not asleep.”

  Dammit. It didn’t matter. Cyn remained quiet and tried like hell not to wipe her nose that was now running. She felt him pull away and return, and then a tissue was dangled in front of her face. Ah, Christ. Cyn tugged it from his hand. “Fine.”

  He lay back down and resumed his hold on her body. “Told you.”

  “Whatever. You didn’t know. You just got lucky.” She blew her nose.

  Shane chuckled against the back of her hair. “Gonna be the death of me.”

  Cyn’s heart cracked a little more and she knew there was no way that’d happen. This man had already put up with so much shit from her, she couldn’t imagine him actually breaking or dying from it. Never mind the fact that any other dude on the planet would’ve cut and run five minutes after he’d walked in on her ex-boyfriend in the middle of a psychotic break and attacking her.

  Shane Conlon was a goddamn rock. In fact, he was her rock…even though she swore to everyone, including God and herself that she didn’t need him. With her tears back in the game—running like a faucet—Cyn rotated within his embrace and faced him. The thought of needing him terrified her. In the pale light of the room, she took in his strong features. Cyn smoothed her fingertips over his cheeks and then touched the dimple centered on his chin. She loved that gorgeous dimple. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

  “Cyn—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “No. Shh…listen. I am sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I can’t make any excuses. I can’t blame anyone. I can’t even—” she sucked in a shuddering breath, “—I can’t even figure out what my issue is exactly. I do know that I’m fucked up but I know that I will be okay once whatever this is passes. I know I’ll get through this.”

  He stared at her a moment before he bent his head and kissed her forehead. “Apology accepted.” Shane smoothed his palm over the back of her hair. “Can I ask you something?”

  She sniffled “Sure.”

  “Why won’t you even consider seeing a therapist?”

  Cyn flinched. She couldn’t answer his question. He’d just argue her points of why and she was too tired to argue anymore that night. “Shane, please? I don’t want to fight again.”

  He sighed through his nose. “I don’t want to fight either. Trust me on that. Just promise me one thing?”

  Christ, he was relentless. “Maybe.”

  “Ha. Fair enough. Promise that you’ll at least think about it, Cyn? Just…think about it.”

  “How could I not think about it? Everyone brings it up so much we could choke a horse with it.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled closer.

  It was true that no one let her alone about the therapist topic, but she knew that’s not what Shane meant. He wanted her to think about it, as in consider it—as in decide to go because she thought it was a good idea. Cyn didn’t want to think or do any of those things. She just wanted to feel normal again. She just wanted to rewind the clock and have none of it happen at all.

  “Not the same, but I’ll take it. For now.” He slid his hand down to her lower back. “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Oh God, really?” She let out a mock snore. “G’head.”

  “Did you at least like the paint color?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You did. You totally loved it. It’s okay, you can admit it.”

  Cyn giggled and then shrugged. “Not gonna admit anything, Sergeant.”

  Shane moved his hand down to her ass, cupping one butt cheek in his palm. “What about the rug? Did you like the rug?”

  “Can’t say, I didn’t really get a good look at it.” She pressed her lips to his throat.

  He slid his palm to the back of her thigh and raised her knee over his hip. “The tables?”

  Cyn kissed along his neck and smoothed a hand down his side. “Didn’t really notice.”

  Shane rolled his hips and the blunt head of his erection grazed her clit. “Liar.”

  “I am not,” she breathed. Damn if she wasn’t already wet for him. How did this man do this to her? Obviously he was sexy, and gorgeous, with an incredible body, and also great in bed…but that wasn’t it. There’d been plenty of men over the years in her life that had those very same qualities. With Shane it was different. Everything was different…but how could she be sure?

  “Mmhmm.” Shane framed her chin between his thumb and fingers and took her lips in a soft kiss.

  Cyn lost all focus and let his mouth take over. Tender, sweet and filled with intensity…her heart cracked more. A feeling she’d felt too many times—for too many of the wrong people—welled in her chest.

  Love whispered, like a warm breeze, through her mind and she hushed it, but it whispered again. Dammit. Cyn wouldn’t allow herself to feel it.

  But she felt it coming from him. Shane hadn’t said the words, and she prayed he wouldn’t, but Cyn felt it in the heat of his kiss and the
brand of his touch.

  With a shift of her hips, the swollen head of his cock teased the mouth of her pussy. Cyn moaned against his lips, tangling her tongue with his. Shane rolled them and she raised her other leg as he slid his length fully inside her.

  He broke the kiss and propped himself up on his forearms. Staring down at her, he thrust his hips forward. Cyn gasped as he ground against her clit, moving back and forth with his cock buried deep in her core. She matched his movement, digging her heels into the mattress as her body arched with each roll of her pelvis.

  Shane stroked her cheek with his thumb but stayed quiet save for the breaths coming from him as their bodies moved together. He was making love to her…he was saying, “I love you” with his body and with his soul, and she felt it through every part of her being. She closed her eyes, and Shane kissed her again.

  And Cyn’s world was knocked from its axis.

  Wrapping her arms around his sides, she held on to him with all her strength as their bodies slid together and her orgasm built. Again he broke from her lips, groaning as his pace increased, but only just a little. There was nothing rough or rushed about what they were doing. This wasn’t fucking…that was very clear. But it was no less passionate than everything she’d already experienced with him. In fact, it was probably more so.

  Shane reached back, gripped her thigh and raised her leg higher, changing the angle. Cyn gasped as he raised his pelvis from hers and slid back in, this time grazing her g-spot. Cyn arched her head back. “Oh God.”

  “Cyn…” He kissed down her neck and took a breast in his hand.

  She rocked her hips. Shane flicked the pad of his thumb over her nipple, then dipped his head and sucked it into his mouth. She arched on the bed, and he rolled his pelvis forward. Her orgasm surfaced, hot tingles spreading over her skin. “Shane!”

  He released her nipple. “Come for me.”

  Shane didn’t have to ask because her orgasm had already broken free. Warmth spread through her as wave after wave rocked her body, her pussy spasming and clenching around his thickness. “Yes!”

 

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