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“I trashed the fucking room, Bobbi. Everything was gone. Destroyed. Every beautiful thing that my mother ever created was gone.”
The pain in his eyes tugged on her something fierce. She reached for him but he shook his head and looked away.
“My Grandfather had me arrested for breaking and entering and vandalism and you name it. Drug possession. Public drunkenness. The list of charges was longer than I remember. He leaned over me and told me that he was putting me in jail because if someone didn’t do something, I’d end up dead. I remember him trying to help me up and I shoved him away. I think I even took a shot at him and to this day I can’t remember if I hit him or not. You know what I told him?”
“Shane,” she whispered, her hands cupping his face.
“I told my grandfather to go fuck himself.” His voice broke and she gathered him into her arms, running her hands along his shoulders soothingly.
“I told him to go fuck himself,” he said again. “That’s the last thing I ever said to the man I loved more than my father.”
“He knew you didn’t mean it. You have to believe that, Shane.”
But he ignored her. “He told me that he was going to call his buddy, Judge Newcombe and that he was going to make sure I got jail time. He told me that he hoped it was enough. That one day he hoped I would see that pain isn’t the answer. He told me that losing my mother was enough for him and there was no way in hell he was going to stand by and watch me destroy my life. I hated him for so long and by the time I realized that he had saved me, that maybe I could become the man he knew I could be, it was too late. He was gone.”
The Grandfather clock chimed seven times, the first stroke making them both jump.
“Shit,” Shane muttered. “Not exactly great conversation for the morning after one of the best nights of my life.”
Bobbi gazed into his eyes. She smoothed his hair away from his forehead and kissed him tenderly. Her lips slid over his as she gathered him close to her and she spoke with her tongue, with her fingers and eyes.
I love yo
u. I need you. I’m sorry.
All of these were phrases that were pretty much self-explanatory and yet they were just smoke and mirrors. In reality she was begging for a forgiveness she didn’t deserve.
How could she?
Her lies and selfish need to hurt had led Shane down the path that had nearly destroyed him. He didn’t know the entire truth about the baby or the hurtful things she had said to him. And sure, he’d been an asshole, but he’d never lied to her. Not once. If he knew what she’d done…what she’d let him believe there would be no forgiveness.
And for the first time since he’d returned home, her mind and heart were listening to what her body had said the day she’d left Gerald at the altar. She belonged to Shane Gallagher and always would. It was as if she’d only been half alive without him. Half alive and blind.
So the question was…if he knew the truth—if he knew what she’d done—would there be a Shane and Bobbi?
Was she brave enough to find out?
Chapter Twenty
The door slammed shut with a bang and Bobbi winced. She rubbed her forehead and muttered, “Did you need to do that?”
“Sorry, I didn’t know it was defective.”
Bobbi glanced up at the clock on the wall across from her and then through the glass window that gave her an unfettered view of the ice. It was nearly lunch time and she’d had her head buried in work for several hours.
“You look busy,” Betty said casually, fingering the end of her dark chocolate leather jacket.
“I have a job, Betty,” she said sharply. “You do remember what that word means?”
Something flashed in her sister’s eyes—hurt?—and Bobbi felt a pang of remorse. She sighed and shook her head, leaning back in the chair. It seemed as if she wasn’t getting anything right these days. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to sound like a bitch. I’ve been doing updates to Billie’s website all morning and it’s getting to the point where I want to throw this computer out the window.”
Betty shrugged but didn’t say anything. Her sister looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine and Bobbi was willing to bet that every piece of her ensemble was a freebie from the many shoots Betty had done in the past.
The knee high espresso colored riding boots, paired with white denim (tucked into the boots of course), white turtleneck, and chunky white & caramel scarf, was a great look but it somehow didn’t belong in the old arena. Around here things were casual. Like way casual and Bobbi was more than fine with that.
It made things so much easier in the morning. Bobbi had thrown on a pair of jeans and her favorite boots, slid her hands into a smart blouse and she was ready to go. She had to admit, it felt kind of good to go to work in clothes that were comfortable. She wasn’t going to miss the skirts and nylons or heels anymore.
Betty’s hair was straightened, her makeup dramatic, as usual—the girl looked plastic but Bobbi wasn’t sure it if it was because of the way her makeup was done, or the fact that she seemed to have misplaced her heart and soul somewhere along the road. It was as if Betty was blank…there was no fire inside her anymore and Bobbi was starting to get fed up with her sister’s apathy.
