by Anne Rainey
“Fine.” He sat on the edge of the couch and started to pull on his boots. “But don’t expect me to stop whatever I’m doing just to accommodate your newfound conscience. I did that once. Never again.”
Oh, now that was going way too far. “You sure as hell weren’t the only amenable one back then, Vance.”
He stopped lacing up and glared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I did whatever you wanted, and you know it. I never said no to you. Never.” Of course, she hadn’t really wanted to say no, but that was beside the point.
Vance laughed, but the sound was far from joyful. “Is that why you broke up with me in a letter? Because you knew if you faced me, you wouldn’t be able to go through with it?”
She slumped at the bitterness in Vance’s voice. “No, that’s not the reason.”
He shot to his feet. “Then why, damn it? Spit it out, Shayla!”
Shayla lost it. “I was trying to protect you!”
“Bullshit,” he ground out as he pointed a finger at her. “You were protecting yourself. You never gave a damn about me.”
“Forget it.” She threw up her hands and headed for the front door. “I should’ve known better than to come here.”
A pair of strong hands took hold of her shoulders from behind, halting her exit. “You aren’t getting off that easily, Shay,” Vance said as his warm breath caressed her neck. “Not this time. You came here to tell me something, and you’re damn well going to follow through this time.”
She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, then turned in his arms so she faced him once again. Vance’s hard body brushed against her, and Shayla’s knees threatened to buckle. Good Lord, he was so lean and powerful, as if fat didn’t dare come near him. Electricity raced through her bloodstream at his nearness. When his intoxicating woodsy scent hit her senses, Shayla had to force herself to stay cool. “You don’t want me here, and I get that. In fact, you have every right to be angry. It was a mistake to expect anything different from you. I’m sorry.”
“I—” His cell phone started to beep, forcing Vance to let go of her in order to grab it out of the clip on his belt. He frowned when he looked at the screen. “Damn, I need to go,” he said as he hit a button.
She nodded. “The diner, I know.”
“But this isn’t finished,” he said, calmer now. “Come back tonight. Seven o’clock.”
Was he really extending an invite to her? Shayla wanted to hope, but she, better than anyone, knew hope could lead to a big heaping pile of disappointment. She bit her lip and looked down, uncertain what to do. Would she be setting herself up for another fight? For more disappointment? “I don’t know,” she admitted, closing her eyes tight to hold back the tears.
“You coming here took a lot of guts, and you wouldn’t have bothered if you didn’t have something important to get off your chest. You caught me off guard showing up so suddenly, Shay, that’s all.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the anger was gone. Maybe he really would listen to her. Maybe he’d even believe her. “Seven?”
He nodded and smiled a little, although it seemed forced. “I should be finished up by then. I can give you my undivided attention.”
“I can’t ask for more than that.” Shayla picked up her coat and pulled it on. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Vance only nodded. As Shayla opened the front door, the blistering cold took her breath away. It was abundantly clear that January in Ohio was nothing like the weather she’d grown used to in Florida, and she wasn’t at all prepared for it. Her coat was too thin, and the frigid air went right through her. At least that was what she wanted to think was causing cold shivers to travel the length of her spine. When she got in her car, she dared to look back. Vance stood tall and proud in the doorway, watching her. Even from the distance, Shayla could make out the annoyed scowl.
Oh yeah, tonight was bound to be a big old bowl of cherries.
Chapter Three
“Goddamn it, Brodix, I told you that wall cannot be removed,” Vance gritted out. “It’s a load-bearing wall.”
Brodix held up both hands. “Fine, whatever. Christ, what’s your problem? Someone piss in your Wheaties?”
True to form, Brodix appeared as fresh as a freaking daisy even though he’d already put in a few hours of work. His long-sleeved, navy-blue shirt looked as crisp as when he’d walked in that morning, and there wasn’t a hair out of place. How the man could stay so damn clean even as sawdust coated the floor was a mystery.
Vance tossed his hammer aside and moved closer to his brother, angry when he saw him pecking at the small device in his hand. “I’d be in a fantastic mood if I didn’t have to constantly repeat myself.” He pointed to the black-and-silver piece of electronics in Brodix’s hand. “Hell, if you’d listen instead of playing with your damn calculator, maybe I wouldn’t have to.”
“I’m trying to figure out how to pay for this, remember?” He looked down and punched a few more keys, then shook his head. “The material for this remodel is going to cost us a friggin’ bundle.”
“Vance.”
When he turned around to find Sammy standing a few feet away, frowning, Vance knew he was in for it. He could practically feel his oldest brother’s disapproval. “What?” he shot right back.
“You and I need to talk.” Sammy pointed toward the kitchen, then turned and started walking, as if Vance would simply follow.
Of course, that was exactly what he did. He always had a hard time saying no to Sammy. They all did. It wasn’t that Vance was afraid of him. They’d butted heads and left bruises on each other plenty over the years. It was more about respect. Before Wanda and Chet had come along and adopted them, they’d all looked to Sammy for guidance. Even though he’d only been a kid himself, Sammy had done what he could to watch out for the rest of them at a time when no one else had wanted to take on the lousy job.
When they reached the kitchen and the swinging doors closed behind him, Vance felt boxed in. Immediately, he wanted to turn and leave. He hadn’t felt that way since his father’s death, helpless and at a complete loss as to what to do. No doubt, Shayla’s sudden reappearance in his life was doing a number on his calm, well-ordered world.
“You’ve been snapping at everyone since you got here,” Sammy said, leaning his large, six-foot-plus frame against the stove. His work boot started to tap out a rhythm against the tile floor, and Vance immediately recognized it as a sign that Sammy was settling in to give one of his lectures. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Vance bit out. “I’m just tired of constantly repeating myself.”
“Vance, we all know you have the biggest part to play here since your construction company is doing the work, but Brodix has been working day and night trying to crunch the numbers to keep this thing within budget. No easy task.”
Vance immediately felt like shit. He shoved a hand through his hair and admitted, “I know. I’m being a pain in the ass.”
Sammy shrugged. “Yeah, you are, but why?”
Vance knew there was no way around it. If he didn’t tell Sammy about Shayla, their mom would. “You’ll find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.”
Sam stiffened. “I seriously hate surprises, Vance.”
“Shayla’s back in town,” Vance bit out. Saying her name brought her image to his mind. She was older, but the years had been good to her. She’d lost some of the sweet innocence that he remembered, but she’d gained a good amount of backbone to replace it. Her thin frame had filled out in all the right places too, he’d noticed. God, how was it possible to be attracted to someone who’d torn out his heart? Was he just that pathetic?
“Shayla Riggs?”
“You know any other woman with that name?” he asked, wishing he could start the day over again. “Yes, Shayla Riggs.”
“Damn,” Sammy muttered. “And she’s been by to see you?”
“This morning. She stopped in as if she hasn’t been gon
e for the last twelve damn years. Can you believe that shit?”
His brother shook his head. “Fuck, no wonder you’ve been acting like you wrestled with a porcupine.”
Vance rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks for the sympathy, bro. Appreciate it.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. So, what did she want?”
“To clear the air, she said. As if that’s even possible.” He grunted. “I mean, why would she think I’d care after all this time? We’ve both moved on. What we had is over.”
He quirked a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes,” he replied, knowing it was a lie. Seeing Shayla again had brought it all back, as if the last twelve years hadn’t existed. No, God damn it, he’d gotten over her. She’d just surprised him with her sudden reappearance. There wasn’t any more to it than that. And maybe unicorns really did exist. “She can confess all her sins, but it won’t change the fact that whatever we had is in the past.” Vance thought of how well he’d handled the situation and groaned.
“What?”
He looked down at the floor. “I, uh, didn’t exactly welcome her with open arms.”
Sam was silent a moment, then in a low tone, he asked, “You still carrying a torch for her? And be honest.”
He thought about lying, to himself and Sammy both. Unfortunately, Sammy would see right through it the way he always did. “I don’t know,” Vance admitted. “Maybe.”
Sammy shook his head. “Did you at least find out if she’s married?”
Ah hell. “Christ, I didn’t even think to ask. I was too busy trying to figure out if I was having a really fucked-up nightmare or something.”
“You’d better find out, if you plan to go any further with her.”
Vance stiffened. “The only thing I have planned is to find out the truth. I figure she owes me that much.”
“True, but I don’t want to see you hurt.” Sammy closed the distance between them, clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “She cut you pretty bad once, Vance. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you nearly dropped out of school when she dumped you. You were pretty friggin’ raw over Shayla, and it took you a long time to get over her. Don’t let her do that to you again.”
He knew Sammy was right and that he had the best of intentions, but it still stuck in his craw that his brother had to issue the reminder. As if he was too dense to look after himself. Then again, Vance did have a tendency to forget common sense whenever that woman was anywhere near. “She’s coming over tonight,” he replied. “I figure we’ll have a calm, polite discussion; then she can leave. She’ll have a clear conscience, and I’ll know the real reason why she left. A win for both of us.”
“I hope you’re right, bro.”
When they heard a curse in the other room, they headed back into the dining area in time to see his youngest brothers, the twins Reilly and River, striding through the door. Reilly wore the heavy black parka their mom had bought him for Christmas and carried a couple of bags from the hardware store. River had his brown leather coat zipped clear to the chin. The dark sunglasses he sported gave Vance a pretty good idea why Reilly was glaring at his twin. Another late night? Probably. When Reilly punched River on the arm and River punched back, Vance knew the answer was yes. He checked the clock on the wall and frowned. “Where have you two been all morning?”
Reilly scowled at River. “Well, I’ve been busy picking up supplies from that list you gave me yesterday, but sleepyhead’s been in bed getting his beauty rest.”
Vance laughed for the first time that day. “Out too late again, River?”
He yawned, then took off his shades and stuck them in his coat pocket as he headed toward the coffeepot. “Nope, just up too late.”
About three weeks ago, River had started taking out a different woman every night, as if he was on a damn quest to bed every available woman in Blackwater. “What’s her name this time?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Christy,” River answered. The coffeepot paused halfway to his cup, and Vance watched as he frowned. “Or maybe it was Crystal.”
Vance chuckled, but Sammy wasn’t nearly as amused. “You seriously need to chill with the one-night stands or you’re going to catch something. Christ, River.”
River waved the warning away and continued pouring the coffee. “I’m not an idiot, Sammy. I do take the necessary precautions.” He held the pot out for Reilly, but he shook his head. River replaced the carafe on the warmer, while Reilly continued to frown at his twin. After River took a cautious sip, he looked over at Vance. “So, where’s your crew? I figured they’d be pounding the shit out of this place by now. We’re removing the counter today and installing the bar, right?” He paused, then added, “And where’s Mom? I thought she wanted to see the changes you drew up.”
Vance headed around the bar and sat on a stool at the counter. “Mom and Julie are out shopping; should be along any minute. And we are installing the bar, but I gave the crew the day off. They’ve been working their asses off on this place and needed the break.”
Brodix took the seat next to him and glared. “Hey, why didn’t you bitch at him the way you did me?”
Confused, Vance asked, “Huh?”
“You told all of us yesterday that the crew had today off,” he reminded him with a kick to the side of Vance’s shin. “You hate to repeat yourself, remember?”
Vance scratched his chin. “Yeah, sorry about the attitude earlier. My day didn’t quite start out the way I planned.”
“Why?” Brodix asked. “What happened?”
“Shayla Riggs happened,” Vance replied, knowing there was no use trying to keep his private life private.
“Shayla? Like, Shayla from a decade ago?” Brodix asked. When Vance nodded, Brodix let out a low whistle. “Whoa. And I see it didn’t take her long to get your boxers in a twist,” Brodix helpfully supplied. “See? This is why I don’t bother with long-term relationships. Too many cute fish in the sea to start getting all tangled up with just one little piranha, if you ask me.”
“Vance, you still hung up on that girl?” River asked with a cocky grin on his face, as he picked up on only part of the conversation.
Vance flipped him the bird and turned his attention back to Brodix. “You know, one of these days a woman is going to come along and knock you on your neatly pressed ass. Like the supportive brother that I am, I’ll gladly help you up while I laugh myself fucking silly.”
Brodix chuckled. “Not going to happen, but you keep dreaming, sugar.”
Annoyed that he hadn’t managed to ruffle his brother’s feathers in the slightest, Vance tried to come up with a witty response, but River’s cell phone started to chirp, interrupting them. He took it out of the front pocket of his coat and looked at the screen. The wide, toothy grin River suddenly sported had the room going quiet, all of them curious if the woman on the other end was the same one River had spent the night with.
When River hit the Answer button and shouted, “Sunshine!” Vance instantly knew that the person on the other end was none other than Jeanette Munroe. She happened to have the distinct role in River’s life of being his one and only friend. Jeanette was a sweet, tomboyish type and a few years younger than River. She also happened to be the only person River ever allowed to sleep in his bed. Not even the women River dated stayed all night. Vance figured it was a remnant from his brother’s nightmarish childhood. Being a foster kid had sucked for the lot of them, but River had had it worst. Abuse seemed like a tame word when Vance thought of what River’s foster father had put him through.
“God, he’ll be on the phone an hour at least,” Reilly grumbled as he watched his brother and drummed his fingers on the counter. “Now that I think about it, I remember River saying something about Jeanette coming home from college for a few days.”
Vance nodded. “Looks like we’re down one, then, because sure as shit River will be spending the rest of the day with her.”
When River se
t his cup down and went into the other room to talk in private, Sammy cursed.
Sammy’s entire body seemed to go rigid, and Vance frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He took a pack of gum out of his shirt pocket, ripped open a piece and popped it into his mouth before he asked, “Do you think that boy will ever figure out that Jeanette’s feelings run deeper than friendship?”
Reilly snorted. “Hell no. I asked him once why they don’t date. She’s good for him, makes him happy. He’s always more relaxed around her too.”
They all three nodded in agreement. “What’d he say?” Vance asked.
Sadness seemed to drain some of the life from Reilly in that moment. “That Jeanette deserved better than damaged goods.”
“Fuck,” Sammy replied.
“Pretty much,” Reilly said. He moved away from the counter and headed for the front door. “I’m going to start unloading the truck.”
Brodix grabbed his wool coat from a booth near the door and offered, “I’ll help.”
“Good deal,” Vance said. “We have spackling to do and a counter to rip out. Might as well get started.” After the brothers nodded and headed out, Vance looked over at Sammy. Neither of them said a word. They wanted River whole again, but they both feared that was one dream that may never come true. Hell, Vance knew too well how quickly a dream could disappear. He’d had plenty of dreams once upon a time, and several of them had included Shayla.
Chapter Four
Shayla watched Vance dish up the penne pasta and alfredo sauce he’d made for their dinner into a couple of cream-colored bowls. He placed one in front of her and smiled. “I hope you like it. The alfredo sauce is Mom’s recipe.”
Vance definitely had the “Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde” routine down pat. When she’d arrived, tension had filled the air as Vance took his time looking her over. Shayla’s body had responded to the heated journey his gaze took with a trickle of moisture between her thighs. Of course, she had taken an extra few seconds to admire Vance’s long, muscular legs in the snug-fitting jeans. What woman wouldn’t? When she’d finally managed to tear her gaze away, she’d gotten stuck on the way the white T-shirt stretched across his wide chest. Unfortunately, the frown he sent her way effectively chased away any remnants of desire.