Unfixable (8 page)

“Drugs did funny things to her mind. She wasn’t thinking rationally, just knew she needed her fix. Otherwise she would have realized pawning your child wasn’t possible. She did her best to convince the owner to hold me for just a few hours, kind of like collateral on a loan. Thankfully, the owner kept Ginger’s number handy so he could call her whenever my mother came in to pawn the camera. My sister came and got me. We didn’t see our mother for a while after that.”

Shane curses under his breath and pulls me closer, enveloping me in his contradictory scents of smoky and fresh. “Ah, love. I’m sorry.”

I nod, but he’s pressed so close it seems like I’m nuzzling him. “That’s just one time out of a thousand I owe her for. I don’t know anything about babies, but I was going to help. This was my chance to pay her back for saving me.”

Shane pushes my hair back from my face. “Willa, I understand guilt. More than you know,” he adds quietly, giving me the feeling that I’m not the only one hurting here. His voice sounds rusty, as if he hasn’t flexed his compassion muscle in a while, making it all the more meaningful. “I don’t know your sister, but I do know you’re not the type who needs rescuing. I reckon she’d say you rescued her, in return.”

“Huh…thanks,” I say on an exhale. Even if I don’t entirely believe him, I appreciate him saying so. From what I’ve learned about Shane, warmth and understanding don’t come easy to him. Being that he doesn’t especially like me, I’m sure saying the words were twice as difficult. When neither one of us speaks for a stretch of time, the darkness starts to feel closer. I become aware of every tingling point of my body that connects to his. My knees, my arm, my cheek are all warmer than the rest of my body. Our breaths sound like waves rushing between us, and the longer we go without speaking, the deeper those breaths become. Something he said before comes back to me, though, and I need to voice my curiosity. “Why are you guilty, Shane?”

Shane’s hand curls into a fist at the outside of my thigh. “Too many things, Willa.” His head turns just slightly, and I shiver when his lips brush my earlobe. “I’m not a nice guy. Not like—”

I kiss him. I don’t know what compels me to do it. If it’s the fear of hearing Evan’s name right now, allowing his ghost to intrude on this oddly endearing moment in the pitch-dark. Or if it’s just Shane and I’ve finally reached my limit on resisting him. As he sinks into the kiss with a groan and my head goes light, I know it’s the latter. It’s all Shane.

Just as I’m about to pull him closer to deepen the kiss, he breaks away. “I shouldn’t kiss you when you’ve been crying.”

“Yes, you should.”

“Yes, I should.”

His lips seal hard over mine, the force of it tipping my head back. We breathe shakily into one another’s mouths at the initial contact. We’ve barely started and I can’t draw air into my constricted lungs. I quickly decide air is overrated when his tongue nudges my mouth open and he starts to take. My sanity, logic, and reservations become indistinct as his fingers burrow in my hair and my mouth is mastered.

Shane Claymore kisses me like the world is ending. I’ve never experienced anything like it. He doesn’t rest in one pattern, but keeps me guessing which part of me he’ll explore next. The kiss is at once fast and slow. Determined and savoring. My thoughts bleed together until all I can do is melt against the body molding into mine, trapping me between it and the desk.

With an irritated groan, he takes one final, provocative pull of my mouth, then gives into the human weakness of oxygen requirement. We’re dragging in air, the office suddenly stifling. I can’t see his face so I have no way to judge what he’s thinking. Then I feel the grip of his strong hands on my backside, yanking me to the edge of the desk. His hips wedge between my legs,
hard
, and I gasp at the unexpectedness of it. It’s an aggressive move, but it doesn’t scare me. No, instead it sends a thrill of heat coursing through my system.

“When you walked in tonight, I could see it on your face. You’re thinking about it.”

“Thinking about what?” I run my hands up his muscular chest, licking my swollen lips.
Why isn’t he still kissing me?
Before I can voice my second question out loud, his body propels mine backward onto the desk, so my legs have no choice but to curl around his waist.

“This, babe.” Shane’s mouth skates up the side of my neck as his hips begin to roll suggestively against mine. The rhythmic movement causes the seam of my jeans to push and drag over a spot I’ve been sorely neglecting of late, and I moan. “This. Us. Me moving inside you. You’re thinking about it.”

“Jesus. I am now.”

Shane grabs both of my thighs and props them on his hips. “People like us, we keep too much inside already. We can’t bottle up everything, or we go crazy.” His mouth collides with mine, the kiss beginning almost lazily, but by the time we break for air again, we’re in a frenzy. “Come to me, soon, Willa. Knowing you’re asleep upstairs in that big bed alone is keeping me up at night. I want to be between your legs without these goddamn jeans in my way.”

“Yes. Okay,” I pant. “I’m th-thinking about it.”

With a low curse, he releases me. I slump back onto the desk, listening to his footsteps make their way toward the exit. As he opens the door, allowing dim light to intrude, I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him. He pauses and looks back at me, hair disheveled, mouth still damp from kissing me.

“Think faster, girl.”

Chapter Nine

“Ah, come on, Willa. Shane gave me the day off. Have you even looked out your window?” Bouncing up and down on one leg, Faith gestures dramatically toward the window of my room. “There’s enough sun that I might get burned. I haven’t been burned in ages.”

“Why would you want to get burned?”

She pinches her arm. “I have Irish skin. My options are white or red.”

“Ah.” I hide my smile and turn back to the mirror. Biting my lip, I glance at the laundry-day outfit I’ve thrown together. Emergency jeans that sit way too low on my hips, and a sleeveless fuchsia blouse I’d bought yesterday on a whim. Because I liked the color, not because I thought someone else might like me in the color, that’s for damn sure.

I tug down the sheer material of my top, but a sliver of my belly is still showing. Hiding in the Laundromat with my navel exposed is one thing, but spending an entire day in this outfit, so unlike my usual black T-shirt and jeans, is decidedly unappealing. Today was supposed to be about laundry and buying a gift for Dolly, which for some reason feels like a pressing errand even though I won’t meet her for weeks. Ginger still hasn’t called, making me twice as restless. I feel like I need to
do
something for the baby, to make up for my not being there.

Still, Faith’s reflection behind me in the mirror is so hopeful, and she’s already straightened her hair. I’m going soft, I realize glumly. “I might be able to swing a couple hours. What did you have in mind?”

“Just a bit of shopping,” she says it too quickly, like she’d already had the answered chambered long before entering my room. When I narrow my eyes at her suspiciously, she spins toward the door. “Come on then, before the sun remembers what country it’s shining on.”

Bracing myself for whatever Faith is about to spring on me, I sling my messenger bag over my shoulder and follow her out. I catch the last of her white dress fluttering, then disappearing at the base of the stairs as I start to descend. “Slow down, crazy pants. If you break your neck, we’ll—” I come to a halt as I see Faith and Shane standing toe to toe in the hallway. Ever since their argument the night of our O’Kelly’s excursion, I’ve wondered if they’ve been talking to one another. Apparently not, if their body language is any indication. Faith has her arms crossed over her chest, chin up in the air. Shane simply looks weary.

Until his eyes meet mine over the top of Faith’s head, and his gaze sweeps me from head to toe. Any lingering weariness is quickly replaced with heat potent enough to make catching my breath necessary. I become even more aware of the skin showing at the waistband of my jeans as his attention lingers there for what feels like an eternity. While I want nothing more than to tug down the shirt, I’m distracted by the way he looks. The dark circles under his eyes tell me he’s exhausted, but with shower-dampened hair and those suspenders outlining the curve of his strong chest, he looks touchable and dangerous at the same time. I have the sudden urge to pull back one of those suspenders and let it slap against his body, just to see his reaction.

With a start, I realize Faith is calling my name. The way she says it tells me it’s not the first time. Ignoring Shane’s knowing smirk, I croak, “’Sup?”

“I said, are you all set to go?”

“Lead the way.”

“Actually,” Shane hedges, when we move to pass him. Looking a touch uncertain, he runs a hand through his hair. “I need a moment with Willa in the office.”

“For what?” Faith and I ask at the same time. A tiny bubble of panic floats through my chest. I can’t be alone with Shane this morning, not when I haven’t sorted through what I’m feeling, nor have I made a decision about…well…jumping each other’s bones. With the way I’m feeling now, having him standing so close, I don’t think I have the strength to be objective.

“Faith can come,” I blurt. “Whatever you need to say…Faith can hear it, too.”

It’s a risky move. For all I know, Shane is going to call my bluff and remind me to continue thinking about his proposition. Right in front of his sister. When he eyes me closely for a moment, then shrugs, I release a pent-up breath. He nudges open the office door but doesn’t meet my eyes as Faith sails past him. “After you.”

Clutching the strap of my bag, I can’t help inhaling as I walk past, wondering what kind of miracle soap he uses to smell like that. It’s comforting and elusive all at the same time. What do I smell like to Shane? I don’t wear perfume like Ginger or shower with body wash. Dove soap and regular, drug-store bought lotion is all I’ve used. Do I have a scent? Does it have an effect on him? With a shake of my head, I will myself to stop thinking these ridiculous thoughts and continue past into the office. This time the lights are on, but it doesn’t stop me from remembering last night’s heart-to-heart turned make-out session.

Prompted by Faith’s long-suffering sigh, I shift in my boots. “What is it?”

Shane rounds the desk and hits a few keys on a laptop I’ve only just noticed. Around it, there are pieces of paper with scribbled notes on them and a half-empty mug of tea. He checks his watch, then runs an impatient hand through his hair. “Just…wait.”

“Okay,” I mumble, ignoring Faith’s questioning looks in my direction. What would she think if she knew Shane and I shared a kiss on this very desk mere hours ago? Would she still want to spend the day with me? I’m trying to figure out the answer to that question when I hear it.

My sister’s voice. Her familiar Tennessee drawl is coming from the laptop. “Earth to Wip. Come in, Wip.”

Hearing my nickname, Wip, short for Willa Ingrid Peet, I squeak—
yes
squeak—before shooting to my feet and scrambling to the other side of the desk. And Ginger is there, on the screen, smiling back at me. She looks tired as hell, her long chestnut hair in a haphazard bun, eyes sleep-blurred and puffy. On the flip side, she’s never looked more beautiful in her life. She looks…peaceful. Weighed down with love.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

I clear the choked feeling from my throat. “Would it have been so hard to keep the baby in until I got back?”

“You know us Peet women.” Her eyes twinkle. “We have minds of our own.”

My laughter is halting. “Truer words…”

Ginger looks somewhere just beyond the screen. “She must have gotten her punctuality from Derek. I’ve never been early for a damn thing in my life.”

“Except maybe a hair appointment.”

“A girl’s got to have her priorities.” Squinting, Ginger leans closer. “Are you wearing fuchsia? What happened to
yakety yak, I only wear black
?”

“Don’t get excited. It’s laundry day.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with—”

“No,” I cut her off, shooting a nervous glance at Shane.

Only he’s gone, along with Faith, leaving me alone in the room. His sudden absence causes a weird, hollow feeling to invade my stomach, just for a brief flash. It hits me then that I wanted him to be standing there. But I can’t think about it now, though. Not when I have a rare chance to see and talk to Ginger at the same time. I hear Derek’s voice in the background, and then he hands Ginger my niece. I’m
looking
at my sister’s child.

“Meet your niece, Dolly Tyler.”

While I work to get my feelings under control, I press a fist to my mouth. “Hey, Dolly. That’s a pretty big name to live up to.” As if responding, she gurgles a little and we laugh.

Ginger is looking down at her daughter with so much pride, I’m kind of transfixed by it. It’s a miracle, really. No one ever looked at us that way, yet here is proof we still have the capacity to love. “I don’t know. This little lady might give even the Backwoods Barbie a run for her money.”

“I wouldn’t bet against her.”

Ginger looks up at me and for a moment, it’s like the miles between us don’t exist. “Holy hell. I’m a mom, Wip.”

“Yeah, you are. The best damn one she could have hoped for.” Once upon a time, it would have been difficult, saying how I feel to Ginger. Since we moved to Chicago, though, I’m getting better at it. Well, with my sister, at least. “Jesus, look how beautiful she is. I thought babies were supposed to be ugly.”

Ginger laughs and shakes her head, knowing me well enough to know I’m deflecting with an attempt at humor. And as usual, she lets it slide. “You should see what comes out of her.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m looking forward to it.”

Derek sits down next to Ginger on the bed, looking at her as though she’s just descended into the hospital room wearing wings, a heavenly chorus singing behind her. Their eyes meet and I watch as a silent communication passes between them. “Willa, we want you to be the godmother. I know it goes without saying, but well…we wanted it said.”

It doesn’t go without saying. The possibility of being a godmother had never crossed my mind. Caught off guard, I just stare at the screen.

Derek’s laugh rumbles through the laptop speakers. “Is that a yes?”

“Y-yes. That’s a yes.” Shit, I’m crying again. Twice in less than twenty-four hours. Unacceptable. With some advance warning, I might have been able to accept my new status with something resembling dignity, but instead I’m a mess. With the backs of my hands, I swipe at my eyes. “You guys suck.”

They know exactly what I mean, so they just smile and shake their heads.

“Ginger, how did this happen?” I encompass the laptop with a wave.

“Derek got a call from the photography contest people last night. Someone from the Claymore Inn was trying to get in touch with us. We assumed it was you, but—”

“It was Shane Claymore.” Derek scrutinizes me closely, ever the cop and overprotective brother-in-law. “He asked if we had a laptop, which I did, since I’ve been working from the hospital. I downloaded the program he sent me…and here we are. So who is he?”

I sigh at the loaded question, just as the scribbled notes scattered around the desk catch my attention. Phone numbers and names I recognize from the photography contest. Derek’s cell phone number. Shane had done quite a lot of work to arrange this chance for me to see my sister, my niece. I remember the circles under his eyes and frown.

“I’m not sure who he is,” I say to myself, forgetting for the moment Derek and Ginger can hear me. My attention snaps back to them. “Listen, take care of my beautiful goddaughter. And Derek, make sure my sister gets some sleep,” I add, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he’ll follow through. “I miss you guys, dammit. I’ll call soon.”

Ginger is becoming distracted as the baby begins to fuss. Derek stands up at the side of the bed, holding a diaper and a glass of water, looking prepared for anything. “Bye, Wip. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, that narrows it down,” I respond, but my sarcasm is lost on them. “Bye, guys.”

I close the laptop and take a deep breath. My chest feels heavy with a multitude of messy emotions. Gratitude, surprise, love…a touch of melancholy. I close my eyes to regain my bearings, but all I can see is Shane, the one who made the last five unexpected, amazing minutes of my life possible. To some people, a few phone calls wouldn’t be a big deal. To me, it’s huge.

I don’t think anymore. I just get up and leave the office. It’s obvious where I’m going, but I have no idea what I’m going to do when I get there.

As soon as I push through the hallway door and enter the pub, I see him standing behind the bar. I see no one else in the pub, and a quick glance tells me Faith is outside, waiting for me on the sidewalk in front of the inn. The sound of the swinging door alerts him to my presence and his back stiffens a little, but he doesn’t turn, just continuing to clean the bar with a white cloth. Even though he doesn’t acknowledge me, my steps don’t falter, I don’t pause on my way behind the bar.

When I’m a few yards away, Shane turns. “Look, don’t make a big thing out of—” He cuts himself off when he glimpses my expression. Then he drops the rag and meets me halfway. I’m caught up in his arms a second later, legs wrapped snugly around his waist. Shane grips my bottom with one big hand and buries the other in my hair, searching my eyes. I’m not ready to let him see everything, so I pull his head down to mine. And kiss him for all I’m worth.

I angle my mouth across his, encouraged by his ragged groan. When his teeth rake over my lower lip, my thighs tighten around his hips, and I deepen the kiss further. For the first time, I’m kissing him without a single reservation, and the effect of that freedom is devastating. Blood pounds in my temples, aches form in places I didn’t know could ache from a kiss. The hand on my bottom is urging me closer, causing my control to desert me.

Shane senses the shift in me, the end of my restraint. I can tell because he pulls back,
shh
ing against my lips. “As much as I’d love to take you on this bloody bar, Willa, this isn’t how I want you the first time.” He brushes his mouth across my cheek to my ear. “There’ll be a time for this. Soon. Feel me, love.” His hips rolls beneath mine. “That’s a promise.”

After a few breaths, I nod, forcing my thighs to loosen so my body can slide down his harder one. Shane steadies me with a firm hand on my shoulder, but nothing can stop what’s taking place inside of me. Swallowing hard, I meet his blue gaze. “What you did…thank you.”

“I need you to understand something.” He tips my chin up. “I didn’t do it so to encourage your decision one way or the other. I need that to be clear.”

“Okay,” I whisper, unable to question his sincerity when he’s looking at me with such intensity. “Why did you do it?”

He goes still, and then his hand slips from my face. “Maybe I know what it’s like. The guilt over not being there when someone needs you.”

More than anything, I want to question him further, but Faith raps on the window. Immediately, I step back, ducking my head. Not because I’m ashamed, but because it’s a moment taking place between us and I don’t want someone else to witness it.

“Whatever the reason you did it…” I shrug helplessly. “I won’t ever forget it. When I go home…forty years from now when you’ve forgotten me, I’ll remember. Okay? Thank you.”