She heard her name being called, but ignored it as she stumbled down the road, practically blind as tears filled her eyes. She swiped them away and kept on walking.
A heavy hand descended on her shoulder, spinning her around. Not knowing who it was she jerked back, ready for another attack, whether verbal or physical.
Shamus held up his hands and took a step back. “What's wrong? What happened back there? What did Sadie Hargrove say to you?"
Cyndi was past all caution and control. “What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong.” She took a step toward him and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I'm not welcome in this town because of who I am. Not only that, I find out from a complete stranger that my father foreclosed on their family farm. And, by the way, I also managed to drive you away from B & O Construction this morning.” She was panting heavily now. Her head was pounding, her stomach sick. Grief and anger filled her, making her heart ache. “You have to stay away from me."
She whirled around to leave, but he caught her with both hands. “You're not to blame for the actions of others. Your father had plenty of enemies in this town. That's got nothing to do with you."
"That's got everything to do with me. No matter what my name is or what I've done with my life, in this town I'm a James.” His fingers tightened around her shoulders, but she wouldn't turn and face him. Stubbornly, she looked out over the street. If she looked at Shamus, she'd never be able to walk away. And she had to. For his sake.
"You're more than just a name, Cyndi. You're a beautiful, stubborn, kind woman. This town doesn't know you at all."
"And you do,” she snapped.
"Yeah.” He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. She could feel his lips lightly caress her. “I do know you. The real you. A woman who lived through a horrific past and came out stronger and wiser. A woman who has a dream and isn't afraid to tackle it even though it won't be easy."
She gave a bitter laugh. “Not so strong. I was just thinking it would be best for everyone if I packed up and left."
His arms slid around her waist and he pulled her back against his chest. “Not best for everyone. Not for me.” The low, intimate tone of his voice tugged at her heart, but she hardened it.
"Not for you,” she retorted sarcastically. “Look what my being here has done to you.” Her voice almost broke. She felt such pain for him.
He swayed with her in his arms, rocking her gently from side to side. “That's not your fault. Burke and I had a disagreement, and I took some vacation time so we could both cool off, and I could help you with your renovations. That's it. You didn't do anything. I offered to do the renovations at your place. It was my decision."
She could hear the hurt in his voice. “I'm so sorry, Shamus.” She clasped her hands over his, squeezing gently. “But the disagreement with Burke was over me."
"Maybe it was, but it was about more than just you,” he insisted. “My family needs to let go of the past and learn to trust my judgment when it comes to my personal life.” He loosened his hold and turned her in his arms.
She didn't resist. The need to comfort him overrode all else. She laid her palms flat on his chest as she looked up at him. “I'm so sorry."
He gave one hard shake of his head. “Not your fault. The fact is Burke won't let go of the past. They can think whatever they want about you, because they don't really know you. They know me, or at least I thought they did. They should trust my decisions, and me, but they don't. That's what this is all about."
He drew her tight against his chest and she rested her cheek against his heart. It pounded slow and heavy, soothing her battered soul. “I want to help. I don't want to make things worse."
"Then don't walk away from me.” She jerked slightly in his arms. “Don't deny it,” he continued. “I know you, Cyndi. You'd walk away in a second if you thought it was for my good. But it's not. You've become very important to me in a very short time."
"More important than your family?” She needed to make him see, make him understand the consequences of his actions.
"It doesn't have to be a case of more or less. You're all important to me. But my family has to have some faith in me or our relationship is built on nothing but air. They'll come around in time. I know they will."
His pain was palpable and Cyndi didn't know what to do to make things better. All of a sudden, she realized they were standing on the side of the road, giving more fodder for the gossipers of this town.
"Let's go home. We can talk there.” She shifted in his arms, taking his hand in hers and walking back toward the truck. Shamus followed her, ignoring the few folks who'd stopped and were blatantly staring at them.
When they reached the truck, Shamus held her door for her before going around and climbing in on the driver's side. “I got the paint samples.” He pointed to a small box on the seat as he turned the key in the ignition, put the truck in gear, and pulled away from the store.
The paint didn't matter any more. She was too upset to even get remotely excited about the renovations. Maybe she should just sell the place and go back to Vermont. She had more than enough money to live on even if she never worked another day in her life. She didn't want to leave. She wanted, no needed, to put her past behind her. But she'd leave in a heartbeat, if it would help Shamus mend the breach with his family.
That realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Shamus's well-being had become more important to her than facing down the demons of her past.
Shamus made a sharp turn and it interrupted her musings. “This isn't the way home.” She glanced around. He was driving down Peach Street.
"It's the way to my home.” He pulled into a driveway in front of a neat, red house with white shutters. Shutting off the ignition, he turned to her. “Come inside with me."
Shamus kept an eye on Cyndi as she climbed out of the vehicle and started up the walkway. He half expected her to bolt again like she had back at the hardware store. Closing his eyes for a moment, he huffed out a breath.
He hadn't expected her to find out about what had happened between him and Burke so quickly. It shouldn't have surprised him though, for it seemed there was no end of folks who wanted to make Cyndi's life miserable. It was ironic when you thought about it. Cyndi wasn't intentionally hurting anyone. She was just trying to settle here and build a life.
He wasn't quite sure why he'd brought her here, except that he wanted to see her in his house, to know what she thought of it.
"It's pretty.” She eyed the shutters and the front porch that extended the length of the house. Both were painted a crisp white.
"Thanks. I put in the porch and shutters about five years ago.” He unlocked the front door and held it open. “This is the house I grew up in. I bought it from my family years ago and renovated it."
"I was here once, a long time ago.” Her voice was soft as if she was lost in her memories. Shamus remembered his conversation with Dani. Cyndi had come to see his sister to apologize just before she left town all those years ago.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped inside. The foyer was nowhere near as large as the one in her house, but it was cheerful and inviting. An old, oak bench sat just inside, a place to sit and put on your boots. Brass hooks stood in a row on the opposite wall, waiting to take coats.
Cyndi toed off her shoes without saying a word and headed toward the living room. Actually, it was now the living room and dining room area combined. He'd taken down a wall when he'd renovated. Shamus had replaced the brick fireplace with one done in river stones. Brown, leather furniture filled the room and a maple cabinet stood on one wall, housing the entertainment equipment.
"It's beautiful.” She reached out and stroked the sofa. “Might have known you'd have leather."
He laughed and relaxed slightly. “And why is that?"
"You're a bachelor, aren't you?"
"Maybe not for much longer.” He could have bitten his tongue when she tensed again. Where the hell had that thought come from? He s
hook his head. He had to stop getting ahead of himself.
But a sense of rightness descended upon him. Cyndi was the right woman for him. It didn't matter that he was nine years younger than she was. All the better for him to keep up with her. It didn't matter that there was bad blood and a history between her and his family. He could outwait them. Once they realized he was serious about her, they'd have to take the time to get to know her. Once they did, he was sure they'd love her.
If they didn't...well, he didn't want to go down that road. Not until he had to. But there was no way he was walking away from Cyndi. His sister had Burke, and his brother had Shannon. Shamus wanted what they had—a loving family of his own.
He knew in his heart that he'd never feel the same way about another woman as he felt about the one currently exploring his home. He knew himself well enough to know she was the one for him. He'd never been in love before, never been the type to fall in and out of love, as he'd dated over the years. There had always been something missing and he'd known it—that is until he'd met a woman in a broken-down car on the side of a road.
Right now, his biggest challenge was to keep her from walking away from what they could have together because she felt it was the best thing for him.
The best thing for him was Cyndi.
He watched as she disappeared into the kitchen, following her when he heard her exclamation of delight. She was kneeling on the bench seat of the kitchen table staring out the huge, glass window when he entered the room.
"This is amazing.” She swiveled her head around when she heard his footsteps.
"Thanks. I knocked out a wall and extended this section of the house.” He'd installed windows on the far end, making a cozy eating area in the kitchen that looked out over the yard and the woods behind it. The windows ran along the three sides, dominating the area and giving a perfect view from wherever a person sat.
She ran her fingers lightly over the window frame. “You do wonderful work."
"Come on, I want to show you the upstairs.” It took a few more minutes to get her out of the kitchen, as Cyndi had to examine the maple cabinets and the stainless steel appliances. Finally, they headed up the stairs.
"How long did it take you to do all this?"
Shamus shrugged. “A little over two years. I worked on it during the evenings and on weekends. I didn't tear the entire place up at once, but did it a room at a time."
"It's amazing. You're amazing."
He could hear the wonder in her voice and it filled him with pride. He didn't have as much money as she did, but he was a hard worker and proud of his skills.
"Oh my.” She'd halted in front of a door, staring inside. “I want my new bathroom to look like this."
Shamus laughed as he urged her inside. The room was his favorite to relax in after a hard day's work. Windows ringed the extra-large bathtub, giving him a view of the back garden. Several plants added freshness to the room. Sandy, slate tiles covered the floor and the wall around the built-in shower stall. The counter was slightly darker, the sinks a sparkling white and the fixtures a brushed nickel.
"We can do that.” That would suit him just fine because he planned on spending a lot of time at Cyndi's place in the future. He'd need a big tub to relax in and if he was lucky, he'd convince Cyndi to join him in many a long, hot bath.
His body jerked, his cock stirring to life in his jeans. He tried to ignore his growing problem as he continued the tour. He'd taken out one of the small bedrooms, adding space to both the bathroom and the new master bedroom.
Cyndi stopped just inside the door of his bedroom, staring at the king-sized bed needed to comfortably accommodate his six-foot-four frame. The room was simple. Deep blue in color, the comforter and drapes matched the walls. The floor was a rich hardwood that gleamed. An oak dresser and a comfortable wingback chair completed the room.
"It's nice. Cozy.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands over her forearms. “This isn't a good idea. I should go."
"This is a very good idea.” He tugged her into his arms, holding her close enough for her to feel the turgid length of his erection against her belly. “Perfect, in fact."
Her fingernails bit into his biceps. He could see her fighting with herself. Should she leave? Should she stay? He didn't wait for her to decide. Bending down, he kissed her, putting everything he felt into the simple embrace.
She made a small mewling sound in the back of her throat as she held herself still. Shamus deepened the kiss, tilting his head to one side to deepen the contact.
Cyndi trembled, her entire body quivering as her hands slowly slid up his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. Shamus shuddered with relief and growing desire. Cyndi was in his home, in his arms. Nothing else mattered. They'd deal with the problems of the outside world later. For now, nothing else existed but them.
Chapter Sixteen
Cyndi finished piling her breakfast dishes into the dishwasher as she glanced at the clock. She'd slept much later than she'd intended. Considering that she was facing another tough day today, she'd wanted to get an earlier start. The antique dealers were arriving this morning, plus all the problems of yesterday hadn't disappeared overnight. Still, she had a silly smile on her face as she closed the door of the dishwasher and turned it on.
Her thoughts drifted back to yesterday evening at Shamus's house. He'd stripped her naked and made love to her on his bed, in his home. It had felt different than the other times—deeper, as if there was more of a commitment on both sides. Cyndi had no idea if what they had together would be able to weather the public scrutiny and disapproval, but she was willing to face it if Shamus was.
Her body tingled and she gave herself a shake. She had a lot to do today and Amanda Barrington and Linda Fletcher would be here sometime within the next two hours. Shamus would be over later after he stopped by the hardware store to pick up several gallons of paint.
After they'd made love and tried out the huge tub in Shamus's bathroom, they'd tumbled down the stairs to raid the refrigerator. While she was making sandwiches for them, Shamus had scrounged in his basement. He'd found a six-by-five piece of board and painted test patches of all the samples he'd picked up at the hardware store.
By the time they'd finished eating, the paint was dry and they'd decided on the best colors for the dining room, the living room, and the front parlor. Most of the furniture currently in those rooms would hopefully disappear with Linda Fletcher when she left tomorrow afternoon.
Cyndi filled a mug with coffee. Cradling it in her hands, she made her way to her father's office. She'd decided that it was time to have another look in the wall safe. She'd been putting it off for a few days now. Glancing down at the almost invisible scar on her right hand, she sighed. She was still no closer to figuring out who had wanted to hurt her, or at least scare her, that fateful night. Not that she expected to ever know who had shot at her. There were no leads and the list of her father's enemies was endless.
Cyndi placed the mug on top of the desk before striding over to the picture that hid the wall safe. Lifting it off the wall, she laid it aside. She'd have to find something else to cover the safe. If Linda Fletcher would take the painting for the auction, it was leaving the house. If she wouldn't take it, Cyndi planned to shove it in the back of the attic.
She spun the dial on the safe, stopping at the correct numbers. The handle turned easily, and she swung the door open. Like Pandora's box, she had a feeling there were things in here that would be better off not seeing the light of day. But she was fully committed to the job at hand. Besides which, she had to know what was here. Maybe it would give her a better idea of who might be behind the shooting.
Reaching inside, she pulled out three leather-bound journals and several stacks of papers, carrying them over to the desk. She'd examine them in a minute, but what she really wanted to see was her mother's jewelry.
There were twelve cases in all, some big, others small. Piling them into her arms, Cyndi took th
em back to the desk, depositing them there. Her hands were shaking as she opened the first one. It was the necklace she'd seen the night she'd discovered the safe. Leaving the velvet case open, Cyndi picked up a smaller one and pried the lid up.
"Ohmygod,” she gasped. Nestled on a bed of plush red velvet was a stunning pair of diamond earrings. They were shaped like large teardrops and were obviously worth a small fortune. She traced her finger over the cool stones, barely able to believe they were real. But they were real, of that there was no doubt. Her father wouldn't have settled for anything less than the best.
One box at a time, she opened them all. Heart pounding, she dropped into the chair behind the desk and just stared. There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Four necklaces, five pairs of earrings, and three bracelets shimmered and shone in the early morning sun streaming in through the windows.
She slipped an emerald bracelet over her wrist, holding it to the light. The gems showed off their brilliant beauty. Replacing it carefully in its box, she plucked up a diamond necklace. It glittered like ice. Cyndi shuddered, returning it to its bed of velvet.
One by one, Cyndi examined each piece, searching for a glimpse of a memory. She'd hoped to recognize at least one of the pieces, to be able to conjure up some elusive snippet of her past with her mother, but there was nothing. They were all beautiful pieces of jewelry, but they left her cold.
The doorbell pealed, making her jump. Slamming the lids shut, she gathered up the boxes and hurried over to the safe, all but tossing them inside and slamming the door.
She glanced out the window, shocked to see a van and a truck in the driveway. She'd been so absorbed in the jewelry that they'd driven up without her even hearing them approach. The bell rang again and she hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. She'd gather her father's papers and the journals and take them to her room. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight she'd take the time to read them.
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