She's the One (Lowcountry Lovers Series Book 2) (9 page)

BOOK: She's the One (Lowcountry Lovers Series Book 2)
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“My dad was a musician; he traveled all the time.” She paused. “He was great. He taught me how to play a bunch of instruments. I’m not sure if I picked the guitar or it picked me, but I do love it.”

“You’re really good; your dad would be proud. Did he want you follow in his footsteps?”

“He wanted me to study music, and I threw myself into it. It was kind of twisted, never wanting a life on the road, and knowing that life was such a big part of my dad. It
was
my dad. When I got older, I started to resent him, but I still loved the music. Weird, huh?”

“Not weird. Just sounds complicated.”

“I’ve always been happy here. My mom says I put down roots on the island the day I was born. She’s right; I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else”

That was fine by Shane. He loved the island, too, and since the market had begun to rebound, he’d thought a lot lately about selling his place in Old Mt. Pleasant and buying a house on the beach. Not a McMansion, but something he could either add on to when he had a family or tear down and build something really special.

He’d had his eye on an oceanfront place on Palm Boulevard. It had changed hands three times just in the eight years he’d lived in the Lowcountry. It was a cute, grey house with a red, metal roof, white trim, and fig ivy that framed the double garage. Melissa always pointed out the houses she loved when she was with Shane. She’d called that one everything from the Red Roof Inn to perfect. And if the place wasn’t perfect, he’d make it that way for her.

“Okay, you’ve heard my life history by now. But you’ve never told me much about yours.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Start at the beginning.”

“I’m the youngest of four. Born in St. Louis. We moved to Carbondale, Illinois when I was five. My dad built us a really cool house out from town; we all played year ’round sports. Rode dirt bikes during the summer and snowmobiles during the winter.”

“So your dad was a builder?”

“Electrician by trade, but he knew how to do everything. Got me interested in the business. I thought I wanted to be an architect when I enrolled at Georgia Tech. I liked school, but really liked the business classes I was minoring in more. I still wanted to build things, just didn’t want to sit hunched over a drawing table all day. Before I changed my major, I’d learned just enough about design to be useful or dangerous, depending on how you look at it.”

“Dangerous, definitely dangerous,” she laughed, and man, that was such a pretty sound. Then she looked away from him. “So, where did you meet Cassie?”

Aw, hell, this was the last thing he wanted to talk about, but she obviously did.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She said it like
he
was the one who’d gotten hurt. And maybe he had a little.

Shit. “She went to Tech too. We got together early, beginning of sophomore year. She was—” What? Uber-rich? Gorgeous? Crazy-making? Definitely all of the above. “We were serious, did the date-our-way-through-college thing. Didn’t even question the next step, but we should have. We didn’t have much in common.” Except an incredible physical connection.

Melissa nodded like she’d heard his thoughts.

“Her dad owns half of Charleston. He had big plans for me after graduation, setting me up with one of his construction firms. Cassie was on board; neither of them understood that I wanted to build homes. I didn’t like him trying to strong-arm me and Cassie was a shrew when she didn’t get her way. I broke it off, she moved to Atlanta. We saw each other occasionally, but I haven’t been with her in years.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yeah, as much as anyone can; she’s not easy, that’s for sure. But I don’t feel that way now, Melissa, I haven’t for a long time.”

End of story. The wine was gone, so was the food, and it was getting dark. He wanted her to say something. Say she got it now, that she’d been wrong about him and Cassie because she
had
been wrong. But she didn’t. The waves were lapping closer and closer to their beach chairs, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like she was slipping away from him with the tide.

“Do we need to pack up?” Melissa motioned to the tent.

“The guys are going to tear it down for me, but we can stay as long as you want.”

Melissa Bliss was beautiful, but by candlelight, she was exquisite. “I’ll bet you caught hell for all of this.”

Yeah, he had, but Shane didn’t give a shit. Getting ribbed by a bunch of construction workers was the least of his worries. He calculated the distance between the water and the tent and figured they had a couple of hours before the guys needed to pack up everything. They were all hanging out at the Windjammer Bar on Front Beach, waiting for his call.

“So, do you want to stay a while longer?” He felt like the weight of the entire ocean was on his chest.

“Yes,” she whispered.

With the moon behind the clouds, Shane couldn’t see her face clearly. But then her head was on his shoulder, and she let out a deep sigh like she was home. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell. He couldn’t help himself; he crooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face to his and kissed her. She melted into him, fisting her hand in his shirt, her breath quickening when she kissed him back.

A group of teenage boys walked by. “Get a room,” one of them said and they laughed.

She let out a long, breathy sigh, her forehead pressed against his. “This was amazing, Shane, but I’d better get home. Thanks for everything, I—” and then she stopped.

Damn, she was hard to read. When he and the guys had been down on the beach earlier setting up, they’d ribbed him about just trying to get laid. He didn’t expect Melissa to invite him to her bed. Or, hell, maybe he did just a little, but when she’d said
she’d
better get home, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I saw you parked across the street from my house after the oyster roast.”

“Melissa, I put Cassie in a cab and went back for you. When you weren’t there, I went to your house.”

“Bo was—”

“Look, you don’t owe me an explanation.” But he was damn glad she felt like she did.

She seemed relieved. He didn’t blame her, talking about that guy was as awkward as talking about Cassie, and Shane didn’t need awkward. They walked back up the path from the beach, his arm around her shoulders and hers snaked around his waist. About halfway up 30th, Shane heard the faint sound of an acoustic guitar. As they got a little closer, he saw the red Prius in her driveway.
Un-fucking-believable.
She unwrapped herself from around Shane, but he held her hand.

“I’m sorry, Shane. I didn’t know Bo was going to be here.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t her fault.

If this guy wanted to go toe-to-toe for Melissa, Shane was all for it. He was sitting on her porch with that whole blond, Curt Cobain thing going on. Bare feet propped up on the only other chair, presumably the one he was saving for Melissa. Shane opened the arbor gate, the guy nodded at them like it didn’t bother him in the least to see Shane with Melissa. He kept playing while Shane’s anger grew and Melissa gave off a massive
oh shit
vibe.

As they started up the walkway, the asshole had the nerve to get up and kiss her on the cheek like Shane wasn’t even there. “Hey, babe. Brought your guitar back. It sounds good.”

There wasn’t a whole lot Shane could do or say that wouldn’t make him look like a Neanderthal, but that’s exactly what he felt like.

“Thanks, Bo.” She took the guitar from him. “This is Shane. Shane, Bo.”

Shane nodded at the guy and turned his attention to Melissa. “Dinner tomorrow night?” She owed him a second date. Tonight, she seemed to want more than that.

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Bo pushed his hair out of his eyes. “She’ll be with me.”

“Their bass player is studying for exams. I’m sitting in for him.” She was almost apologetic. “We’re practicing every night this week.”

“We have a gig at Vickery’s on Shem Creek Friday night and then at Home Team on Saturday. You should come hear us.”

What was with the
‘we’
and
‘us’
shit?

“We’re good, but with Melissa, we’re great.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Well, I’d better get going.” The asshole kissed her again on the cheek. “See you tomorrow night, babe.” Shane wanted to kill the guy as he sauntered off toward his car. Then he turned, like he’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh, yeah, you
did
see us play together. Saturday night. Man, that was something the way you left with that chick.” He grinned at Melissa. “Night, babe.”

Chapter Seven

L
ately, the first thing on Melissa’s mind when she woke up was Shane. But after three nights of practicing with the band, and being wooed by Bo, her thoughts were of him. And why not? He was sexy as hell and seemed to know the perfect thing to say or do every moment they were together. Of course the music was huge part of the seduction, but as pretty as the whole package was, it just left her more confused than ever.

She’d let Shane and Bo cloud her mind, and thoughts of wanting both was a huge distraction. Of course, any woman in her right mind would be attracted to either man, and Shane hadn’t made things any easier. He’d sent flowers, taken her to lunch and didn’t once mention anything about her playing in band.

He was just waiting until the skinny, redheaded kid was done with exams, Melissa knew that. And he probably thought things would go back to the way they were when they’d had dinner on the beach, but she wasn’t so sure about that—knowing Cassie was Shane’s soul mate, or damn close to it, and vice versa complicated everything. Could Melissa be happy with Bo? Could she have a relationship with Shane, knowing he was meant to be with Cassie? No, but when Shane kissed her, nothing had ever felt more right.

Maybe Auntie Jo was wrong and Melissa wasn’t always meant to be the bridesmaid, maybe she was meant to be with Bo. Or Shane. But going against her gift for selfish reasons?
Wrong
.
Really wrong.
Why did she feel so conflicted, why couldn’t she just forget about Shane?

Things with Bo were uncomplicated. No ex, who was also his soul mate, hanging around, and playing music together was a big plus. The way they played off of each other was delicious, and having an audience tonight would only add to the attraction. Melissa was well aware of Bo’s past of being a bit of a rake, but he seemed laser-focused on her, not just sexually. And it felt genuine.

Her cell phone rang, her mom. “Hey.”

“Hey, sweet girl. You’ve been on my mind lately, how are you?”

“Good.” Conflicted as hell, but good. “I’m glad you called, Mama. I have questions for you. About Auntie Jo.”

“Honestly, honey, if it’s about your gift. I don’t know anything about it except, Jo was right about your father and me. And a slew of other folks. You’re just like her.” She paused for a beat. “Soon as she saw you had it, she and Gramma sat you at their feet and taught you everything they knew.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Honey, I believe Jo was wrong, always believing there was someone for everyone except her—and you. I always sided with Gramma on that one. She married and was happy, didn’t affect her matchmaking one iota.”

“But, what if they didn’t teach me everything?”

“They loved you too much to leave you with questions you couldn’t answer. Look, I know I sound like a nosy mother, but—is this match for you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful news, honey. I was wondering when that was going to happen. Who is he?”

“There’s more than one, Mama and I’m so confused.”

“That’s how the rest of us live, honey. We go through life thinking we know who
the one
for us is. We have doubts.”

“Did you have doubts about Daddy?”

“Of course, and loving your father was hard, especially with him gone so much. But I did love him,” she whispered the last words like the loss was still raw. “Truth is, the rest of us don’t have a compass giving us a definitive answer. We have to trust our hearts. Sometimes we’re wrong, sometimes were not, and it’s scary.”

“Very scary.”

“Sounds to me like you’re in love with one of those guys, sweet girl. You just need to figure out which one.”

Melissa ended the call, needing chocolate or a good stiff drink. But first things first. She scrolled down her contacts and punched Parker Holbrook’s number.

“Melissa Bliss. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi, Parker, how are you?”

“I’m well and you? Hope everything’s okay with your new office.”

“I’m good, Parker, and the offices are perfect.” Sure it was a little small and the walls were paper thin, but that wasn’t why Melissa was calling. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ah, Melissa, do I need to remind you I really should not be one of the guys on your go-to list when you’re setting a woman up to find a husband. That is why you’re calling, isn’t it?”

“Guilty, but this is different. Look, I know you’re The Bachelor on steroids, but I have a friend, Savannah Sinclair, she needs to get her feet wet, get back into dating.”

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