by Jiffy Kate
With a pencil behind his ear and his hair a disheveled mess, he looks…delectable and utterly comfortable in his environment—my environment.
I’m frozen in place, afraid if I move or make a sound it will all disappear…he’ll disappear. Maybe I’m hallucinating. This could very well be a side effect from being sick. I could still be dreaming.
Then, the door swings open and Paige comes hurrying into the shop. “I’m here,” she calls out, running around the counter and tossing her backpack in the corner. “Thanks for covering! Sorry I’m late!”
Shep takes the apron off and tosses it to her, like this is the most normal thing in the entire universe. He never once looks my way, which I honestly don’t mind, because I look like shit and I’m happy just to see him.
Yeah, I said it. I’m happy to see him.
Like, ridiculously happy to see him.
Whatever lingering symptoms I might’ve had feel alleviated with his presence.
Him…in my shop…I’m speechless.
“Call me if you need me,” he tells Paige. “I’ve got to run. Maverick is expecting me in twenty minutes.” The next thing I know, he’s walking out the door.
Dazed and a bit confused, I walk out of the doorway where I’ve been lurking and into the shop where Paige spots me right away.
“What are you doing out of bed? Are you feeling better?” she asks, multitasking as she fills a cup of ice for an iced coffee and then pops a croissant into the toaster oven.
“What was he doing here?” I ask, my eyes still on the door where Shep exited only moments ago. I think I can still smell his scent lingering in the air and I can’t help but inhale deeply. I might even close my eyes.
“Do you need to sit?” she asks me warily.
Popping my eyes open, I shake my head and look back at her. “No, I…I’m fine. I think. But what was he doing here?” I ask again, pointing toward the door.
“Oh, Shep?” she asks, like there was another he here…he’s the only he at the moment. The only he that matters, anyway. “He stopped by earlier to check on you and I told him I needed to go to class to take my test…did you get my text?”
“Yeah.”
“Right, well, he stopped by and offered to help out, so I gave him a crash course and he told me he could handle it.”
Looking around, I see everything is still standing, even the shelf Paige had mentioned in her text messages. The place looks intact. Nothing is burning. The customers are happy. Paige is watching me…
“What?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to be down here? Because if you’re not, you can go back to bed. I’m fine. Alex will be here in thirty minutes.
“Shep worked here…by himself?” I ask, stuck on that piece of information.
“Well, I think Carys came over to help him out for a while, but she had to go back and cover the desk at Blue Bayou because Jules is sick.”
“What?”
“Yeah, we were sending him up to check on you and I think he caught what you had.” She winces.
I groan, rubbing my head. It’s a lot to wrap my tired, foggy brain around. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday,” she offers, passing an order across the counter. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks the man and woman, who tell her no, offering us both a smile and wave as they take their coffees back out into the sunshine. I don’t blame them, that actually sounds really nice.
“I’ve been out for three days?” I ask.
“Yeah, I was really getting worried about you,” she says with a sigh. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m better. I promise.” Still trying to put all the pieces of this bizarre puzzle together, I ask, “I thought Shep went back to Dallas?”
“Oh, he did,” she replies, leaning against the counter. “He had some business to attend to. He sold his house,” she offers, like it’s common knowledge, but I didn’t know that. “And since it sold so fast, he had everything put into storage. So, he had to go and figure out what he wanted to bring to here and what he wanted to sell. Then, he finalized the sale on the property he and Maverick have been working on…oh, and he drove the Porsche back.”
In typical Paige fashion, she rambles on and I let her go because she’s a wealth of information.
“So, he didn’t move?” I ask, needing to clear up that misunderstanding.
She frowns and shakes her head. “No, why would you think that?”
“No reason,” I mutter, glancing back out the window of the shop like I might be able to still catch a glimpse of him. “I didn’t know he sold his house.”
I didn’t know a lot of things, apparently.
“Oh,” she says, pushing off of the counter and walking to the register, pulling out an envelope. “He did say to give you this when you were feeling better.”
I take the envelope and turn it over. There’s no writing on the outside. It’s just a plain, small envelope and for a second, I think it’s a card or something, but instead, when I open it up, I find a worn Monopoly card—Tennessee Avenue—and just like that, I’m transported back in time.
Dear CeCe,
Someone wise once told me it’s not about how expensive the property is. It was you, you’re the wise one. And how appropriate that we connected over a game of Drunk Monopoly? I knew then you couldn’t be bought, which is why I cheated my way to a kiss…and to a weekend with you, one that stuck with me every day that followed. I’d like to make it up to you and give you what you won, fair and square.
Your Silly, Sexy, Shep.
Chapter 30
Shep
Pacing the concrete floors of the empty building, I check my watch.
She said she’d be here and I know she will be, but it doesn’t stop me from counting the seconds and minutes. Shit, I’ve been counting since I got her text message last night. I thought about calling her back instead of sending her a text, needing to hear her voice, but I’m trying to stay true to the promise I made myself—give her space and set her free.
A few weeks ago, when my father called and gave me an ultimatum, initially, I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. There was no way I would walk away from CeCe for all the money in the world and I knew there was a chance our marriage was over, which left me completely cut out of both my grandfather’s will and my father’s trust fund. But over the past few weeks, I’ve done a lot of thinking and I came to the conclusion that my father actually freed me.
What felt like no choice became the easiest one I’ve ever made.
I choose her.
For better or worse.
For richer or poorer.
When the door creaks, I turn to see her and I can’t help the way my heart speeds up. It’s been the longest fucking month of my life and not knowing how today will go is putting me on edge, but I need to hold my shit together and get through this.
“I thought you might stand me up,” I tease, only semi-joking.
She gives me a half smile, trying to hide it. “I considered it, but then again, you did go to all that trouble to leave me a Monopoly card.”
“I stole it,” I confess, taking a step closer.
“So, you’re a thief and a cheater.” She quirks an eyebrow and it’s then I notice the dark circles under her eyes from being sick. It makes me want to sweep her up and carry her to bed. When I heard that she was too sick to work, I knew it had to be bad, which is what made me go to the shop. I didn’t really think I’d end up slinging coffee, but there’s a first time for everything and I was happy to help.
Actually, I fucking loved it.
I’d do it again…anything for her.
“I hear you also know how to make a mean cup of coffee,” she says, her expression softening. “Thank you for helping out while I was sick. That was—”
“My pleasure,” I say, cutting her off. “I was happy to do it.”
“Well, it means a lot to me.”
Paulie’s advice about finding a
way to show her I’m in this for good comes back to me. I’d work in her shop until I’m old and grey if it was enough to prove my feelings for her. Honestly, there’s not much I wouldn’t do, which brings me to why I asked her to come here today.
Walking over to the lone table in the middle of the room, I brace my hands on either side of two stacks of papers. “A while back, you told me you didn’t want this—to be married to me,” I start, forcing my voice to stay calm and collected. It’s a gift, really. Something I’ve learned over the years of business deals. Glancing up, I see that she’s stone-faced and I’m worried this won’t end in my favor. “After a talk with Carys a few weeks ago, she helped me understand you haven’t been given a lot of choices in your life, so I’d like to change that. But first, I need you to know a few things.”
She swallows and tucks her arms around her body, hugging herself, and I wish I could see inside her head, know what she’s thinking…feeling. It would make this so much easier, but I promised myself that today, I’d lay all my cards on the table and walk out of here with no regrets.
“I did cheat in that game of Monopoly. You won, fair and square. But it was the best damn game I’ve ever played in my life because it led me to you.” I pause for a moment and take her in, memorizing this moment and the way she looks, just in case it’s the last time I see her while she’s still mine. “But this hasn’t been a game for a long time, at least not for me. I love you, CeCe. I love everything about you, even your exit strategies and safety nets. I’m sorry for buying Theo out and not talking to you about it first. I can’t say I regret it because I would do anything to make your life better, but I get it now. I know I overstepped—”
“Shep,” she starts to interrupt, taking a step closer until the only thing separating us is the table.
“Let me finish…please.” She huffs and cocks her head, giving me the most beautiful stubborn expression and I’d love nothing more than to kiss it off her face, but she’s letting me finish, so I continue. “I know you’re never going to be the woman who needs saving, and I’m okay with that. I just want to be the man who gets to walk by your side…and be your shoulder to lean on from time to time.” Sliding one set of papers around to face her, I look up and lock onto those gorgeous brown eyes. “This is the deed to this property we’re on right now…the one that’s been rightfully yours for the last two years. I want you to have it, regardless of any other decision you make tonight.”
She goes to speak, but again, I stop her, needing to finish what I came here to say.
“These,” I tell her, pushing the other stack of papers toward her, “are the papers for our divorce. But, before you make your choice, I need you to know this isn’t a fake marriage, not to me, and if we get divorced, that won’t be fake either. It will be real, just like my love for you.”
Walking around the table, I use every ounce of strength I have to not force her into giving me an answer right here, right now, and instead, lean down and press my lips to her forehead. For a second, I allow myself to just inhale and trust in fate and this crazy journey we’ve been on together.
I keep telling myself there’s no way all of this is for nothing.
Setting the keys to the building on the table, I breathe. “I’ll be waiting for your decision…and whatever it may be, I’ll support it.”
I hope she reads between the lines—I’ll support you…I’m here for you…it’s me and you forever, if you’ll have me.
Epilogue
“Where’s my wife?”
I felt him before I heard him. It’s strange, but now that I’ve given myself over to him so completely, it’s like the cells in my body are connected to his. And it’s not scary, it’s the best feeling in the world.
“I think she’s in the kitchen,” Avery replies. “Who wants to hold a baby while I pour us all a glass of wine?”
The entire living room erupts with offers, but I hear Shaw dominate the bidding pool. “I haven’t seen him in six hours,” he says gruffly, but I know his actions are quite the opposite. Even being a daddy hasn’t softened all of his edges, but when he’s holding Shae, he’s a different human being. He melts, just like the rest of us. “You greedy bastards wait your turn.”
“Language!” Avery calls from behind me. “I swear, I never dreamed he’d be like this.” Her laugh tells me she loves every second of it and every bit of that man and the baby he’s hogging.
“Really?” I ask. “You didn’t dream that Shaw O’Sullivan would be a protective, possessive, dominating daddy?” I scoff and shake my head as I continue to slice vegetables.
We’re finally getting around to having the get together Avery wanted. It took us a while to get everyone together. With all of our hectic schedules and new projects flying around, it’s a miracle we managed it at all.
“I’m just kidding,” Avery says, checking me with her hip as she saddles up beside me. “Your cocky…uppity…smug husband is looking for you.” She giggles, taking a sip of wine.
“How many glasses have you had?”
“Two,” she says flatly. “I’m a cheap, easy drunk, what can I say?”
I thought I’d never get used to hearing Shep being referred to as my husband, or me as his wife, but somehow, over the past few months, I have. Every time he’s in the room, it’s like I’m wearing my favorite tattered sweatshirt while listening to Otis Redding on my record player, drinking a glass of wine on a Saturday night…while The Golden Girls reruns play in the background.
He’s all of my favorite things rolled into one fantastic man…that’s all mine. Any time of day. Whenever I want. He’s there for me. He did something no one else has ever stopped and taken the time to do…he gave me a choice.
And I chose him.
Avery and I collect the platters of appetizers and carry them into her and Shaw’s large, open great room. Sometimes, when the weather is nice, we take things outside and open up the gate Shep and Shaw installed between the two small backyards. But tonight, it’s raining, and that’s just as well, because I love seeing everyone together—Carys, Maverick, Jules, Avery, Shaw, Shae, Sarah, Paulie…even Micah and Dani and Cami and Deacon joined us tonight.
Cami is opening her new art gallery soon and they’ve been staying at the Blue Bayou quite a bit during the week to keep them from driving back and forth to French Settlement every night. Sometimes, they have their adorable kids with them and sometimes it’s just the two of them. Tonight, it’s adults only, except for Shae.
We all crowd around the long table, passing food and wine and banter.
When Shep catches my eye as I pass a bowl of pasta and gives me a wink, before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek, I feel my entire body heat up, just the way it does every time he’s near.
This life isn’t perfect. There are always ups and downs and risks and rewards, but at the end of it, as long as we’re with the ones we love, that’s all that matters.
Later, after I’ve helped Avery clean up the kitchen and tucked my godson into bed, I make my way next door. It’s no longer Shep’s house…it’s our house.
Finley moved into my old apartment above the coffee shop and he keeps an eye on things for me, while enjoying really cheap rent.
And, every morning, Shep walks me to Neutral Grounds and comes in for a cup of coffee to get his day started…and sometimes a little lagniappe…not the restaurant, but the kind only I can give him.
When I shut the door behind me, he calls out from the office. “Get your ass in here.”
“If you’re telling me what to do, you better be naked.”
I smirk as I kick off my shoes by the door and hang up my raincoat on the hook. Shortly after I ripped up the divorce papers and signed my name to the deed for the building next door, Shep and I negotiated new ground rules, not for an arrangement, but for our marriage.
Number one: We discuss any and all business dealings before they happen.
Number two: We live under the same roof.
Number three: I don’t try to
do everything on my own.
Number four: He doesn’t tell me what to do…unless he’s naked, then, anything is fair game.
When I walk into his office, he’s sitting in his chair with his back to me. I stand in the doorway and rest against the frame, waiting. As I clear my voice, he swivels in his chair and I have to bite back a laugh…and a groan.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep my eyes on his, but failing miserably. When a piece of art like Shepard Rhys-Jones is sitting in front of you, in a leather chair that probably cost more than some cars, wearing only a tie…and a very, very cocky smile…it’s hard to maintain any level of decorum.
“Strip,” he says, clasping his hands in front of him, with everything else unabashedly on display. When I continue to stand there, he raises an eyebrow. “CeCe…”
My heart rate triples as my body begins to respond. Right…clothes…off. With Shep’s intense gaze following my every move, I discard every article of clothing down to the black satin panties he bought me last week…just because.
That’s another concession I’ve had to make. Shepard is going to buy me gifts and it doesn’t mean he’s trying to buy me. It’s just who he is and how he’s made. When I chose him, I chose him flaws and all. There’s nothing about him I want to change, because I love every piece of him—his good heart, his smug confidence, the way he commands a room…even his bossiness and bravado.
“I’ve been imagining you out of those clothes all fucking day.”
I swallow. “Really?” I ask, wanting to hear more about what he’s been imagining…or better yet, maybe he could show me.
One thing Shep has gotten really good at is showing me how much he loves me…thoroughly, erasing all doubts and insecurities. When it’s just me and him and all of our walls disappear, I love the Shep only I get to see. Under the well-tailored suits and expensive shirts—which he doesn’t wear as much these days, but still plays the part when necessary—is someone who’s real and vulnerable and desires to be loved and to love in return.