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Her hand was trembling a little as she poured the merlot into the wineglasses. “Do what?”
“You don’t have to pretend Jack never existed. Not with me.”
She put the bottle down because she was in danger of dropping it. Then she turned around and looked directly up at him. “You said it was a hell of a thing to learn I’d almost married someone else. I didn’t want to...” She trailed off, unsure exactly what she wanted to say.
“Yeah, but you said that was a different woman.”
“Yes.” She tried to make sense of her chaotic thoughts. “But when Niall was here...”
“Ahh.” Shane smiled and slid his hands down to her waist. “Now the light dawns. You thought because I was jealous of the way Niall looked at you that I’m jealous of Jack.”
“Aren’t you?” She hadn’t meant to ask him that question. Okay, yes, she had meant to, but not so bluntly. Now that she had, though...
His smile twisted a little. “I’m only jealous because you loved him enough to marry him. Not for any other reason.”
That sounded suspiciously like a declaration of love, and Carly’s heart leaped. She loved Shane. Despite her brain’s insistence that she protect her heart, she just hadn’t been able to do it, and she loved him more every hour. If he loved her, too...
The microwave dinged again, and the moment was lost. Shane turned away to take the pot roast out and put it on the counter, then served up generous helpings for both of them and set them on the table. Carly brought over the wineglasses, then fetched the silverware and napkins. She found it surprising and a little intriguing that Niall had cloth napkins, not paper ones. And again she wondered if that was Shane’s preference, too. So she asked him.
“Yeah, we get it from our mom. She always had cloth napkins, so paper ones seem chintzy and not very substantial.” He forked a bite of meat and chewed thoughtfully. “You’re right. It’s not gourmet, but it’s not bad. And the wine does help.”
“Tell me about your mom.” She couldn’t help the little pang of pain that always hit her when she remembered her own mother, who’d died when she was seventeen, along with Carly’s father. In a way it was good for them they’d gone together, because they’d loved each other so much. But that had meant Carly and Tahra had been orphaned in one fell swoop—and Tahra had only been ten at the time.
She brought her attention back to Shane. “Five kids,” he was saying. “Four strapping boys and then finally the little girl she’d always wanted. She’d never admit it,” he said, sipping at his wine, an appreciative expression on his face. “But we all knew.” He chuckled softly to himself. “Keira wasn’t the daughter she’d expected, though. Far from it.”
“How so?” Carly’s plate was almost untouched, so she quickly took a bite.
“Oh, I think my mom was looking forward to ribbons and bows, that sort of thing—the kind of girl she’d been raised to be. But Keira wasn’t interested in anything ‘girlie.’ She was a scrapper. I think my dad had a lot to do with that.”
“In what way?”
Shane said reflectively, “My dad was an old-school marine. You know the type. Tears were for sissies. Don’t get me wrong—we all loved him, and when he passed away, it just about killed us. My mom, too. But he wasn’t perfect. And one of his...well, imperfections, had to do with how he saw gender roles.”
“I see.”
“I wonder if you do.” His face took on a thoughtful mien. “Growing up, my brothers and I didn’t give Keira much respect. We loved her, but she was a girl, even though she tried to be one of the boys.” He ate the last bite from his plate. “Keira always had to fight for respect. She was ten when I left home, but she was feisty even then, and only became more so as she got older. She used to try to scrap with Alec and Liam, but they knew better—Dad would have killed them.” He smiled slightly. “I quickly learned in the Corps that my attitude toward women—which I’d gotten from my dad—needed a little—” he cleared his throat “—adjustment.”
