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And sure, they’d been made while in the throes of passion, so technically they didn’t count—not in her books anyway—but still. She couldn’t deny that she’d said them, just as it was clearly evident that either Shane hadn’t heard her—and that was probably a good thing—or he had heard her and obviously wasn’t in the same throes that she’d been in.
He could have been riding in the sex-with-no-strings lane, while she was cruising down the oh-my-god-I-can’t-live-without-you hi-way.
“You’re an idiot,” she murmured.
“Good to know.” Shane’s voice rumbled and vibrated through his body, tickling her nose. She shifted and gazed up into eyes that were too damn pretty to belong to a man as masculine as Shane Gallagher.
He smiled lazily and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tenderly that she had to look away, because the tears that had been mere pricks of heat were now full and weepy, and they slid down her cheeks.
“Hey,” he said softly, his hands in her hair massaging her skull. “Are you okay?”
She nodded but didn’t answer because she sure as hell didn’t trust her voice. With her eyes averted, she carefully hid her sniffles and continued to trace his tattoo. A lot of thoughts crowded her mind, a lot of things unspoken.
“Ah, Christ, Bobbi.”
Shane startled her and she turned her head, exhaling as his large hands wiped away the tears that sat near the corner of her mouth.
“Honey, we got carried away last night and I’m sorry I didn’t think of protection.” He exhaled roughly and swore under his breath. “I mean, I’m clean, there are no worries there, but…”
His voice trailed off and she knew where his mind was going. Another shadow of a past that wasn’t finished.
Bobbi cleared her throat and shut him down. “If you’re worried about me getting pregnant, don’t.”
“You sure?” His finger exerted enough pressure that she couldn’t look away.
“Positive,” she answered lightly.
Her voice drifted off and for a few moments there was silence, broken only by the steady tick tock of the Grandfather clock. When they’d tumbled inside the cottage the night before they hadn’t made it to any of the three bedrooms. Heck, she’d barely crossed the threshold when he was inside her again, and they’d fallen onto the floor in front of the fireplace.
A twinge in her lower back only served to confirm her performance had been, if nothing else, energetic. Maybe too energetic.
Maybe she’d blown everything by going into the evening at 200 percent and half-cocked. That was Bobbi Jo, always jumping off the cliff without looking. Always thinking of the consequences when it was too late.
“Shane, what happened to us?” she asked suddenly, closing her eyes as she rested her head against his chest once more and listened to his breathing.
Shane’s fingers continued to massage her scalp and he shifted again, pulling the throw blanket they’d snagged from the sofa near the fire place, up over her hips. He settled her into his arms and the feeling of warmth and comfort was so bittersweet a fresh batch of tears spilled out of her eyes as they snuggled into the makeshift bed on the floor.
Quiet for a moment, he gazed at the ceiling and she swallowed hard, trying to stem the tide of emotion she knew was riding way too close to the surface. And why the hell was she so sad or scared anyway? She’d had an amazing night with Shane. They’d connected—really connected—and sure there hadn’t been many words, save for her stupid declaration of love which she was certain he hadn’t heard, but still…
Their bodies had spoken for them. She knew Shane cared about her—you couldn’t make love the way they had and not know that—she just wasn’t sure about the depth of his feelings. Was he loving the sex and the way she made him laugh? Was he reliving a past that had been, for the most part, explosive, passionate and fun?
; Or was he treading new waters as well? Was he looking for something more than sex with no strings?
“Never mind,” she said suddenly, “Forget I said anything.”
“No, we should talk about this stuff.”
“But what’s the point? It’s not like we can change anything.” Panic began to gnaw at her. Why the hell had she opened her mouth?
“There are a lot of things I would change,” he said carefully. “And a lot that I wouldn’t. Some of my worst mistakes are the ones that made me a better man. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’m starting to figure that shit out now. Better late than never, right?”
“But we were so awful to each other,” she blurted out—“In the end.”
“Yeah. We were. And I could say that it was because we were young and stupid, but that would be the easy answer. Anyone who uses that as an excuse for behaving like a dick is full of shit.” He paused. “And truthfully, I wasn’t all that young. The thing is…” he exhaled and blew hot air across her cheeks. “We pushed each other’s buttons all the time and maybe we did it because all the fighting was worth the making up, but then things just got crazy and out of hand and the hurting became the normal state of our relationship. And then…”
Dead air filled the space between them and Bobbi felt the pain of it all the way to her soul. Memories she’d long buried rose and her throat closed tightly. She couldn’t break down now. Not here with him. Not like this when she’d just spent the most amazing night ever, connecting with Shane in a way she had never thought would be possible again.
