Conor smiled, unconcerned. “Time will tell.”
She started to worry about the ramifications of such photos emerging, but decided instead to be present in the moment. The soft glow of the lights above them, combined with the fragrant air, and the two bottles of wine they had already consumed conspired to create an evening so relaxing that she had no desire to resist it. They had slipped back into the easy intimacy she had longed for.
“Honey, could you imagine doing this the rest of your days?” Conor asked as he filled her wine glass.
“Eating and drinking to excess?” she replied with a wan smile.
He laughed. “Yes. And doing so with me.”
That sobered her up. But it also left her unsure what to say so she just watched him.
“I don’t know what’s been going on since I got back from tour. You’ve been distant—”
“I have? No, you’re the one that came back distracted and—”
“Not so,” he insisted. “I’ve been thoroughly focused on you, haven’t I? Didn’t you say you were actually sore from it?”
A small laugh of exasperation escaped her. “Conor, sex isn’t necessarily closeness. You know that, right?” She fought not to cringe at the tone she had used. It wasn’t intentional but still, it was too late. Conor had heard it quite clearly.
“Ah, I hate when you get that condescending tone. Sometimes you really want to make it clear you think I’m an immature child, don’t you? Well, guess what? I’m not going to let you persist with that characterization. I may not be your fucking buttoned-down ex-husband, but I do know a thing to two about life and love.”
The mention of her ex-husband hit her right where he intended. It infuriated her. Just because he knew what had happened to end her marriage didn’t mean he really understood her relationship. He had no right to try this tactic.
“Do you really want to bring up exes?” she asked but didn’t wait for him to reply. “Because, sure, why not? Let’s talk about the way you defer to Sophie—”
“Jesus. She’s not my ex. You know that, right?”
His tone was mocking, giving her a taste of her own medicine. What had happened? They had been having such a lovely time with each other. How had things unraveled so quickly?
“I didn’t mean—what I mean is that since you got back, you have been distracted. Things haven’t felt the same with us. And it only got worse when you went off to hospital to see Sophie by yourself,” she said. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it once she started up again. “I know you explained how that happened, but the result is that it left me out of your equation. Same thing with that stupid motorbike you bought without talking with me about it. It all leads me to think you’re keen to maintain a separate life.”
“Separate life? Fee, what are you on about? There’s no secret agenda to leave you out. I’ve just had a lifetime’s worth of handling myself, is all. As for going to see Sophie on my own, it really was as simple as what I told you. You shouldn’t take it as more. And look, if I’m supposed to talk with you about buying a motorbike, then lesson learned. It just honest to god didn’t occur to me. I’m not all that fucking complicated, you know?”
Felicity looked away from the intense stare he had leveled at her. She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. She tried to focus on the flame of the candle burning in front of her but all she saw was a blurry flicker. “That’s everything Sophie said.” She looked up at him, not bothering to blink away her tears. “She knows you so well, doesn’t she?”
He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Jesus, don’t fucking talk to her about me, Fee. That’s the exact wrong thing to do.”
“Evidently.”
“Because we’re too tangled up. Our pasts are too tangled up. I don’t want to live in the past.” He paused and took a deep breath. Then he leaned toward her and looked at her with naked earnestness. “Don’t you know I’ve chosen you as my future, honey? All I want is you, Fee. I’d fucking marry you tomorrow if you want to know the truth.”
“You what?” The declaration left her mouth dry.
He smiled and reached for her hand. She gave it to him and he rubbed his thumb along her palm. “I’ve been trying to hold back the depth of my feeling for you since that night in the editing studio when you finally gave me a chance. I didn’t want to scare you because I know you doubt what we have. And you have every right to. I know you’re still hurting from your divorce. But fuck it—I love you and I am absolutely committed to you. To us.”
She wanted to fly into his arms, to curl up into his lap and be enclosed in his strong embrace. But she still couldn’t be sure that everything might be smoothed over that easily.
“Con, I’m not trying to be difficult, really I’m not,” she said.
“Then tell me you love me, too. Tell me you want us.” He said it with a smile but she could see the fear that underscored it.
“I do. Of course, I do,” she told him and he relaxed. “I love you so much it scares me, if you really want to know.”
“What scares you?”
“Seeing you with Daisy—”
“No, there’s—”
“Let me finish, sweetheart.” She watched him until he gave her a slight nod. Then she took a deep breath and looked down at the way he was still stroking her palm with his thumb. “I can’t give you your own child. You know that. I know that. But after seeing you with Daisy, I just can’t be sure that you will really be okay with that.”
He fought off a smile as his eyebrows came together. “You do know Daisy isn’t mine, right?”
“Ha ha,” she said and tried to pull her hand from his. He wouldn’t let her go, though. “You know what I mean, Conor. I don’t know if it’s fair to you that you can’t have your own child. You were such a natural with Daisy.”
“And I’ll be a natural with the child we’re able to adopt, honey.”
“It’s easy to say—”
“I have thought about this, okay? I have. And I’m not just telling you what you want to hear. But at some point you’re just going to have to trust me.”
It wasn’t fair to him, but she couldn’t help but scoff at this. She would have no man telling her she’d have to trust anything. Not after the disastrous divorce she'd gone through. She'd allowed herself to become complacent in that relationship, to lose her sense of self, all so she could keep her marriage intact rather than acknowledge its flaws. It had been such a shock at first, to be abruptly left by the man she loved. It took time to understand that she had ignored warning signs. She wouldn’t bury her head in the sand like that ever again. Even if Conor was the one she wanted, that didn’t mean she would blindly trust anything.
“I know you were burned by that dick of an ex-husband.” He stopped when she looked away. With his fingertips to her chin, he forced her to look at him again. “I know it still hurts and even makes you distrust what’s in front of your own eyes, Fee. But you’re gonna have to see that you have no choice but to take that leap again.”
There it was again. That have to thing. The problem was that when she looked into his blue eyes she knew he wasn’t playing games. Not anymore. He was giving his whole heart to her and asking that she give hers in return.
“I can tell you one thing, though,” he continued.
“What’s that?”
“I’m fucking worth it,” he said and succeeded in making her laugh.
He had a way of making a joke out of things at just the right time. She watched him, a smile fixed to her face. But he wasn’t content to leave things on this note.
“Honey, like I said before, I’m not that complicated. I love you and want a life with you. It’s as simple as that.”
When her eyes teared up this time, she smiled and reached for him. He pulled her all the way onto his lap and held her tightly, kissing the top of her head over and over until she released the breath she had been holding and relaxed into him.
This was the second time he'd worked to convince her he was worth ta
king a chance on. It made her realize that her worries about his commitment and feeling disconnected had been unfounded. He was here, holding her and acknowledging her concerns and putting them to rest at the same time. And he wasn't going anywhere.
She had underestimated him, thinking he didn’t know how to be in a real relationship, that he didn’t even know how to handle a disagreement. She had thought she would be the one to lead him by the hand to navigate the challenges they’d face as a couple but it was he who was sorting it all out for them both.
Burying her face into his neck, she breathed in his scent and smiled.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Shay sat on the sand, picking up handfuls of the tiny grains and letting them slip through his fingers. He was partially shaded by palm fronds waving gently in the warm breeze. It wasn’t just warm, it was hot. Close to ninety degrees, in fact, and though the clear waters of the Florida Keys were within reach, he couldn’t jump with his cast to cool off. So he sat on the sand, watching Danny Boy carry fishing gear down the long dock toward the motorboat meant for taking guests of this plush private resort out for a bit of sport.
They had been here two days at this picturesque, upscale village ninety minutes south from Miami. Danny Boy’s friend, an Englishman named Trevor Taylor whom he knew from his party circuit, had followed a girl here several months ago. In response to her ultimatum, he managed to get clean. But when she broke it off with him anyway, he decided to stick around and live the tropical life. He played up his accent and charmed the widowed owner of the resort to land the cushy job of taking guests to fish.
The moment Shay met Trevor, he recognized in him the same desperation his brother carried with him. It was a desperate need to replace something that was broken or missing. But the best they could do was to temporarily fill that damaged part of them with distractions. No real repair could be made. Danny Boy working alongside this kindred spirit gave Shay little comfort. He saw a mile off that the two addicts would find their way to trouble. It was just a matter of how long it would take to get there.
~
Shay watched a group of middle-aged white people create a dance floor on the sand. It was completely out of step to what the jazz guitarist was doing. But they didn’t care. No one else did either. There were smiles and laughter all around. A Reggae band would ramp things up a little later, as would the promised fireworks show out over the water.
It was his last night before leaving for San Francisco, and Danny Boy had convinced him to go this resort-hosted party of the beach. Of course Danny Boy had almost immediately ditched him in favor of chatting up a couple girls with Trevor.
On his own, Shay took to one of the Adirondack chairs and surveyed the party scene. Bonfires, bars offering specialty cocktails, chairs and tiki tables were set strategically among the palm trees. The vibe had started off laid back and friendly, with overt good humor as the crowd audibly cooed over the orange and purple sunset. The guests only got looser as the night and alcohol set in.
The night air was thick and warm and made the drinks go down easy. Shay felt himself getting beyond his usual buzz and put his cocktail—aptly called The Painkiller—in the sand beside his chair. Danny Boy and Trevor were near one of the bars, having captured the attention of two young and receptive women. Danny Boy was staying with Shay in his bungalow until he had to move to the employee barracks. Shay would have to get a word with him sooner rather than later to be sure he didn’t think he could bring one of those girls to their place. But for now he was content to sit back and watch the party going on around him.
Jessica came to mind when he saw Danny Boy try to get one of the girls to dance. Like him, she would have been happy to relax and watch everything rather than mingle. The Reggae band would have sent her moving, though, and he imagined he saw her before him, swaying her hips to the beat. She would beckon for him to join her and he’d hesitate—not because he didn’t want to dance with her but because he wanted to watch her moves. She'd smile knowingly, revealing dimples, and that would get him to his feet to join her. He was a sucker for those dimples.
He hadn’t called her again since the night he broke his wrist. But he did text her a day ago. She hadn’t responded. But then, he started out telling her not to: “Jess, no need to reply. Just wanted to say it was lovely to hear your voice.”
That brief phone call had unleashed the longing for her that he had kept buried these last months. Well, not exactly buried. He'd simply redirected missing her into an intense reliving of their relationship in his mind. He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong with them. Yes, Danny Boy was a factor, there was no denying that. But at the edges of his mind, he knew she had been dissatisfied in some other way. He thought the safest way to approach her once he got to San Francisco was to ask for her to talk through the unresolved things from their relationship.
The concern she displayed over his injured wrist made him think she'd give him that chance. And he hoped that would be just the start. What he told Danny Boy about winning her back was true. He did want her back. He realized what a fool he'd been to let her go, how misguided it was to believe it was somehow noble to do it for her sake. Thinking back to the night she told him she was leaving him, he wondered how he could have been so blindsided by it.
When she’d come home after staying at a friend’s house to avoid Danny Boy’s detox, she seemed ready to fight. They had never been a couple who fought. Their temperaments were too reserved to overreact or confront each other. But in the days after returning, she was moody. She spent hours in her dance studio with the music turned up, while Shay stayed busy keeping Danny Boy occupied.
Though Danny Boy had detoxed the drugs from his system, his underlying addict personality remained. His poor impulse control and irrational decision-making didn’t go away with the heroin. So, Shay did everything he could to keep his brother focused on something less self-destructive. With Rogue about to go on tour, Shay found an excuse to get Danny Boy involved in their music for the first time. Danny Boy had never stuck around long enough before to learn the ins and outs of what went into the massive operation that was Rogue. This time around, Shay got Danny Boy to commit to joining the tour. It was the official “crew” lanyard badge, of all things, that Shay presented him with at one of the band’s rehearsals that swayed him.
That same day, Shay returned home and found Jessica crying. The music was loud in her studio, but she wasn't dancing. Instead, she sat on the floor hunched over her knees. Her shoulders shook so hard that he almost ran to see if she was hurt. After a moment’s hesitation, though, he slowly backed away. Instinctively, he felt that if he confronted whatever it was that was bothering her, he would only make it worse. He chose denial, hoping that whatever it was would blow over.
That night, she let her frustrations be known. Or at least, the ones she was comfortable telling him about. They all concerned Danny Boy.
It was three in the morning when Shay came to bed, and Jessica was pacing in their bedroom. Danny Boy had kept him up playing snooker while providing a running commentary on whatever was on the television in the background.
“Here’s the thing,” she said without prompting. “This isn’t the only time you’ve chosen him over me. And I know he’s your brother, but when do I get to be the priority?”
“Hang on,” Shay told her. “I feel like I’ve missed the start of this conversation.”
She stopped pacing and looked at him. “Yes, you have. That’s exactly right. You haven’t even allowed a conversation, though, have you?”
“Jess, what’s going on?”
“Do you even know how scared I was when he broke in?”
He could see her body trembling slightly. But the set in her posture was strong, determined. She had already made a decision.
“I do know. And I’m sorry—”
“The first thing you did was buy into his cry for help. You didn’t help me.”
“That’s not true,” he said softly, entirely convinced he wouldn’t cha
nge her impression of the incident. “I nearly threw him down the stairs to get him away from you.”
She nodded. “And then what did you do? You invited him to stay here. To live here.”
“Because he’s no danger, Jess—”
“He came into our house, into our bedroom while I was in the shower. He told me there was no use in me sticking around because I wouldn’t get any more money out of you. As if I was some prostitute you bought for the night.”
“You have to understand Danny Boy, love. He says stupid shite more often than not. He just opens his big gob and doesn’t think about what comes out. But he really doesn’t mean any harm.”
“He did harm, though. Not physically, but he scared me.”
“I’m sorry he gave you a scare but my brother would never really hurt you.”
“And now he’s going on tour with you?” she said, switching directions.
“Ay. He needs help to get right. I can’t refuse him that.”
“You know it’s codependence, right? You know you can’t really help him ‘get right.’ He has to do that all on his own.”
“And he will. But if I can be there to watch over him, he gets a fighting chance. I owe him that. This guy raised me since I was only little. Now he needs my help. I don’t see that as being wrong.”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded again, this time with finality. “I understand, Shay. I do. I know how obligated you feel to take care of him. But it doesn’t leave any room for me when I know I’ll always be second.”
“That’s not how it is. I just—can I not have my brother and my girlfriend?”
“I’m not asking you to make a choice,” she said calmly. “I’m telling you that I see things for the way they are. And I need to choose myself. I need to make the right decision for my life.”
Shay had always been good at holding his emotions, at keeping a neutral reaction, and he was glad for it at this moment. Because inside he felt like something was dying. His girlfriend was leaving him.
Hitting That Sweet Spot (Rogue Series Book 3) Page 20