by Vicki Essex
If he felt anger, it was directed at himself. It wasn’t Maya’s fault that she didn’t know about Mira’s anxiety issues. He should have mentioned it to the consignment store owner at the start, but he hadn’t taken her seriously when she’d said Riley Lee Jackson would be coming.
He also worried what the A-list actor’s support meant for Sagmar. Laura would have a fit when she found out the Hollywood star was throwing his weight behind the Save the Crown campaign. Sagmar rarely faced more than the usual NIMBY objections to their builds. But this kind of attention could turn the Everville condo into a global PR disaster.
He calmed himself. The zoning decision still hadn’t been made, and unless people were willing to donate very generously to save the crumbling theater and actually drive down to use it, it wasn’t in Everville’s best interests to maintain the current zoning, and he was confident Cheyenne Welks and the rest of the board knew it. It was a terrible thing to think when he was supposed to be supporting Mira’s cause, but he reminded himself that his ultimate goal would benefit everyone.
So he stayed quiet, politely smiling in the background while Maya gleefully introduced Riley Lee Jackson to the stunned audience. Cheers erupted as the star waved and grinned and took up the mic, espousing the importance of small theaters and the power of movies and storytelling.
Then Mira was invited to say a few words. Shane held his breath—part of him was waiting to hear a rallying battle cry railing against the condo development. Instead, she kept it simple, thanking everyone for coming, then shuffled away, hugging her elbows and looking as though she was about to vomit.
The auditorium emptied in a hurry. Riley Lee Jackson was signing autographs next to his costume in the lobby, and no one would turn down that opportunity. He was probably the most famous person to visit the small town in decades.
It wasn’t until the crowd had thinned that Shane spotted Mira making her way down one row of seats, picking up discarded popcorn boxes and empty soda cups. Her brow was deeply furrowed in what he would interpret as a mixture of disgust, dismay and resignation.
“You don’t have to do that,” Shane said, grabbing a garbage bag. “The boys will clean up.”
“They’ll want pictures with Riley Lee Jackson. Let them go. They earned it.” She cursed as she stepped in a puddle of soda. “Why can’t people be more careful?”
He understood her frustration. They’d worked hard to clean the place up, and now, all that work had been undone. A small waterfall of spilled cola and half-melted candies ran down the slope of the stadium seating. One seat was covered in smeared ketchup and gravy from a bag of chip truck fries someone had smuggled in. Apparently, they’d used the seat as a napkin.
He heard Mira swear loudly again. “Some idiot tore the upholstery off this seat!” she shouted across the room. “I knew it was a bit frayed, but who the hell does that?”
“We can get it fixed,” Shane assured her.
She shook her head. “They don’t make this kind of upholstery anymore. I checked.” She sank into the seat next to it, running her hand across the fabric as if it were a dying animal. “It’s finished.”
“So we’ll get some other fabric—”
“That’s not the point.” Her eyes snapped with fire. “These people know how important the Crown is to me, but they came in here and ruined everything anyhow. They don’t care about this place. They don’t care about my grandfather or his legacy or the town’s history or anything.” She slammed the garbage can down. “They don’t deserve this place. They don’t...” She trailed off, the lines on her face deepening. She looked angry and defeated all at once.
Shane sat next to her. He touched her shoulder, and she flinched away from him. “You must be loving this,” she growled.
“Seeing you in pain? How can you say that? Mira...” He took her hand. “I care about you.”
She stared at him defiantly, her blue eyes wavering between hatred and longing. She seemed to be daring him to say it again, as if she didn’t believe him, as if she couldn’t believe him, as if he’d made the most absurd statement of all time.
He understood. Why should she trust him? She’d been disappointed and rejected so many times by people, it was inconceivable that he should care for her. Besides, he was deceiving her. But that didn’t mean he would give up on her.
“I care about you, about what happens to you. You’re the most talented, remarkable, infuriatingly belligerent woman I’ve ever met. And despite all that, I still want to be with you. Get to know you better. Find out what makes you you.”
“There’s nothing special about me,” she deadpanned. “I’m not worth anyone’s time.”
“Hey. Where is this coming from?” Her look of resignation bordered on self-loathing.
She turned her back on him, shoulders hunched. “Forget it. I just want this place cleaned up so I can go to bed.”
“Leave it to me and the boys.”
“I can’t. It makes me crazy knowing this mess is here, soaking into the carpets. And all those people out there in the lobby—they’ll be hanging around all night now with Riley Lee Jackson in town.” She sounded less than enthusiastic about that.
“I thought you’d be happy about that. You couldn’t pay for the kind of publicity Maya got you. Are you mad at her?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Maya’s been great. I couldn’t have pulled any of this off without her.”
“Well, are you mad at me, then? Is it because I pushed you to speak in public?”
She picked up the trash bin and worked her way down the row once more. “No.” She sighed. It seemed like a great effort for her to admit it.
“It’s just... This place was mine and Grandpa’s. He always wanted to reopen the theater, but I’ve never had anything that was my own. And I find myself resenting him now for leaving me with all this and making me share it.” She let out a breath. “I’m completely selfish.”
“Wanting something doesn’t make you selfish.”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t want to reopen the Crown.”
Shane’s heart stopped. She was saying the words he’d wanted to hear since he’d arrived in Everville. It was the first major step toward giving up the fight for the Crown. And yet, he wasn’t happy.
She went on. “This place has been all mine for four years. I like that it’s mine and no one else’s. I owe it to my grandfather to reopen the Crown—it’s what he’d want. But I don’t want to have to give up the last bit of him I have left. Worse yet, I know no one will care one way or another.”
He stared. “That’s not true—”
“I’ve heard everyone talking. They act like I don’t know what they say about the Crown. To them, it’s the theatrical equivalent of slumming it at best, and an eyesore at worst. Maybe they don’t want a condo, but they don’t want a bunch of abandoned buildings around, either. The place could go up in flames and all they’d say is ‘aw, too bad’ before they start hoping for a shopping mall.”
His heart cracked at the bitter despair in her voice. He started to reach out, to tell her that people cared more than that. But she only let out a breath.
“Go home, Shane. It’s late.” Eyes dim, she turned to leave.
Shane hopped the seats into the next row and stopped her. “Don’t give up.” He gripped her shoulders, searching her face. “You have to fight for the things that are important to you. The things you...love.” He gave her just enough time to push him away, but when she didn’t, he kissed her.
It was different from the kiss beneath the theater marquee after their date. Bittersweet, like tears. Shane had no idea how else to help her. Years of parental neglect and abuse had made her believe she was worthless, driving her to withdraw from a world she didn’t want to be disappointed by. She desperately wanted to do right by her grandfather, but despite the outpouring of
support from the town, she still didn’t have faith in herself or others.
A kiss couldn’t fix any of that. But he poured himself into it, willed her to accept that people cared—even loved her.
I love her.
He broke away, smiling hugely. “C’mon,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll get the boys to finish cleaning up in here. Riley Lee Jackson and his team will be out there a while longer. Once they leave, we’ll lock up and you can get some sleep.”
“I’m not sure I can sleep after all those people have been here.” She rubbed her arms.
“Well...” He swallowed, suddenly nervous. “If it bothers you that much, come stay at my place.” Her eyes widened, and he quickly amended, “I mean, there are spare bedrooms. I can make a bed for you with clean sheets and everything.” Had he read her wrong?
“Oh.” She bit her lip. He hated the uncertainty there, hated that he couldn’t seem to hit the right note with her. She was skittish and untrusting, but he’d tasted her desire. Still, he didn’t want to push her, or make her feel obligated.
But then she said, “So...you’re not inviting me into your bed?”
Shane chuckled, relieved and giddy all at once. He put up his hands. “I wouldn’t try to seduce a woman on the brink of exhaustion.”
“So I’ll have a cup of coffee.” She resumed picking up trash.
He raised an eyebrow. He knew he might be getting in too deep, taking this too far. Sex with Mira would complicate things. It would commit him to a path he wasn’t sure he could leave. He didn’t want to hurt her, to deceive her any more than he already had—she was already conflicted enough right now.
For the sake of their relationship, he had to do the right thing.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE BOYS DID a quick cleanup, promising to return the next day to do a more thorough job, while Maya dealt with Riley Lee Jackson’s people. It left Mira nothing else to do except pack an overnight bag for her escape to Shane’s.
She’d never thought she’d want to leave the Crown, but the place suddenly felt too small, too busy, even after it’d emptied. Strange voices seemed to echo through the auditorium, though no one remained. The tomb-like stillness of the place had been disturbed, chased out with every tread across the lobby’s dingy carpet. The town had exorcised her grandfather’s phantom presence from the theater. It’d been empty and quiet before, but now, it was simply barren.
Mira brooded about it on the drive to Shane’s rented home. Her thoughts were caught in a dozen little eddies, pulling her emotions this way and that. She should have felt elation at the night’s success, pride in what she’d accomplished. But all she felt was a sense of desolation, like at Christmas when there was a huge buildup of anticipation followed by a letdown when that magical something didn’t happen.
Was that why she was going home with Shane? Because she wanted something to come out of this endless night?
She’d only half joked about being invited into his bed. On the one hand, all she wanted to do was sleep, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that with a second body sharing the space. She’d never even let her college boyfriend, Tom, sleep over. She’d never been comfortable enough with anyone to allow them to share her bed.
On the other hand, she wanted the simple comfort of sex, and she wanted it with Shane. Nothing with Shane was simple, though, and so her thoughts continued their spiral, driving her deeper into her anxiety.
They pulled into a driveway in front of a two-story home with a well-manicured lawn. She could smell the nearby lake, hear the shushing of waves lapping against the pebble beach. Fireflies winked in and out, so brief she thought they might just be fanciful wishes.
“Can I take your bag?” Shane asked almost hesitantly.
“It’s not heavy.” She’d only packed a change of clothes and her toothbrush.
They walked into the house, and Shane flipped on lights as they went. The home was beautifully furnished with warm beach tones in taupe and sand and pale yellows and blues and whites. Everything was beach-themed, too, with framed shells, pictures of boats and water and nautical knickknacks on every surface.
The place was nothing like her parents’ dingy, sparsely furnished apartment, or Grandpa’s worn and tired bungalow. It was a home, even if it was a rental. Mira self-consciously plucked at her worn jeans and T-shirt that smelled of sweat and buttered popcorn.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Shane asked. “Midnight snack, maybe?”
Not exactly the seduction she’d envisioned, but she was suddenly so tired, she didn’t want to think anymore. “I’m all right. I could use a shower, though.”
“Upstairs, first door on the left.”
She stood under the steaming hot water a long time, letting the heavy fall wash over her head and back, soothing as a touch. Not like the barely there trickle of her makeshift shower stall in the janitor’s closet at the Crown.
Soft, fluffy towels capped off the most luxurious shower she’d had in months. As she completed her evening ablutions the weight of her conscience dropped away. This place might not be her home, but it was comforting in different ways. Maybe she should invest in nicer towels. It’d make her nightly lukewarm dousing a little better. And maybe she could paint her office that nice warm taupe color in the living room...
And maybe she could move out of the theater permanently and into a real house.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Shane waiting in the hallway, leaning up against the wall.
“Everything okay?” he asked, scanning her head to toe. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her pajamas consisted of a simple loose-fitting T-shirt and jogging pants, not the sexy lingerie she imagined wearing to seduce a man. Maybe she’d packed these pj’s with self-sabotage in mind.
“I was just enjoying the shower.” She rubbed the towel over her hair, trying hard to avoid his probing look. Her skin grew hot. “Um...so, bed?”
“This way.” He led her to the end of the hall. It was a nice little room with striped gold wallpaper and a queen-size bed with crisp white bedsheets. One thing was clear; this wasn’t Shane’s room.
“I can set an alarm if you want,” he said. “But I think we both deserve to sleep in.”
Mira nodded silently. At least the bed looked comfortable. “I think you’re right.”
He lingered in the doorway. “I’m down the hall if...if you need me.”
He turned to go. Mira almost stopped him. Almost. But as much as she wanted to have him in bed with her, she let him leave.
She climbed into the plush linens and burrowed down, inhaling the clean-smelling duvet. Strangely, knowing Shane was only a few doors away didn’t make her nervous. She felt safe. Something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
It was almost enough to let her sleep. Almost.
* * *
SHANE SLEPT TERRIBLY.
He’d worried about Mira’s safety ever since learning she lived in the old theater. But having her under the same roof tempted him beyond reason. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, not when she was tired and vulnerable. He’d made it clear he was waiting for the right time. But while she was in the shower, he’d received an email from Laura.
The company is getting antsy, and the investors are restless. Now I hear rumors you’re directly involved with Ms. Bateman’s campaign to save the theater. Whose side are you on? Get your head in the game and your ass in gear. I don’t need to tell you what it’ll cost if you don’t close this deal.
Shane didn’t like threats. He’d deleted the email, but Laura’s words lingered. What would she say if she knew Mira was sleeping down the hall from him?
Every time he was about to drift off, he thought he’d heard footsteps padding down the hall. He’d wait, holding his breath, but no one knocked. No one opened his door and slipped i
nto bed with him. No one snuggled up to him with drifting hands that roamed his chest and lower...
He shot to wakefulness, painfully erect. But he was still alone. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. A glance at his watch on the shelf above the sink indicated it was past three. What was it Priti used to say about three in the morning?
“Nothing good happens at three in the morning,” he muttered, scrubbing the stubble on his jaw. He snapped the light off and shuffled back to his room.
He lifted the duvet and climbed under the covers of the king-size bed. It wasn’t until he turned over that he realized he wasn’t alone, and he shouted in surprise.
“Sorry!” Mira scrambled out of the bed, bare legs flashing as she tried to untangle herself from the sandwich of the top sheet and the duvet. “I didn’t mean—”
Shane’s chest constricted. Moonlight traced Mira’s delicate features in silvery-blue light. Her eyes were huge. He caught her trembling hands and drew her closer.
“It’s okay. I didn’t hear you come in.” He didn’t want her to doubt he wanted her.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He chuckled. “Is your bed not comfortable?”
“Oh, no, it’s great, but...insomnia.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not sure I can now.” The heady smell of her skin filled his nostrils, sending his heart into overdrive. His gaze dipped to her bare legs, and he smiled in the dark. “You forget your pants?”
“I was warmer than I thought I’d be. I’m used to being a little chilly in the theater. It’s cozy in here.”
“It could be cozier.” He drew her gently forward, and she didn’t resist. He traced his lips lightly up her neck, around the shell of her ear and along her jaw, seeking out her lips in the dark. She softened, allowing him entrance into her sweet mouth, dragging him closer. She slid her arms around him, raking her fingers through his hair. He breathed her in—she was like a drug, sweet, cloying smoke filling his lungs and head until his limbs were heavy.