WLUV Box Set: Ignited, Consumed, Burned (23 page)

“So let’s
talk about it, work, and whatever.” Mac read her mind. She leaned on one end of
the couch and he sat upright with her legs in his lap.

“Yeah, so
here’s the thing. I love you.” Shelby blurted it out.

“Well, you
stole my thunder. I was going to make a Pinterest board to tell you the very
same thing baby.” Mac was teasing her.

“Don’t
play with me.” She felt a little hurt.

“Are you
sure you love me? Just because that little college boyfriend of yours wasn’t
very good at any of this doesn’t mean you love me.” Oh, so that’s how he was
going to get out of it, claim she was only into his body, that she lusted after
him, not loved him?

Shelby
didn’t know if she was angry or just excited, but her thoughts were speeding
past her. “He sucked at it. He did love me and I loved him. We had some sweet
times, even tender times. But he was gay, turns out, and is still my friend. So
you’re right, nothing like this has ever happened to me. I realize I’m a child
next to your vast experience out in the world and, of course, your relative
ancientness. But I know this. I love you. I love your body, your brain, your
protectiveness, your grouchiness, your eyes, your lips, your jaw, and every
single thing about you. And you love me too.” Apparently, she had no idea how
to play it cool.

“Hmm?
Really lamb?” A smile curled his normally scowling mouth.

“Yes. You’re
just being a dick about it.”

“Okay, so
you had this boyfriend. There’s something you should know about me, about
before I came here.” Mac’s tone put the brakes on their playfulness.

She
blinked away a few tears. Already it felt like a rejection. Her heart couldn’t
take it.

Mac
dragged her by her legs up into his lap.

“Stop now.
No crying in news, isn’t that what Macy says?”

“Are you
going to say you were in love with Macy once? You still are. That’s why you
came here. I knew it—she’s so beautiful, I could see where...”

Mac kissed
her quiet, which always worked, though just barely this time. “Shh. I love you
too. Let’s get that out of the way. I am completely fucked. You have my heart
in your little hand and you can squeeze it like an orange for your breakfast
juice whenever you want, so no tears. But before you love everything about me
you need to know a little about what that means, what you’re getting.”

“Okay.
I’ll be quiet for a second.”

“Before I
came here I was mostly a war photographer. You know I’ve been to bad places,
seen awful things. My last network assignment was the worst experience of my
life.” Mac stared for a moment; he was struggling with something. Shelby had
seen that look on his face before and was pretty sure it meant he wasn’t seeing
the four walls of her apartment anymore.

“Have you
heard of Karen Keith?” Mac asked her.

“Of
course, she’s my hero—she’s every journalist’s hero. What happened to her was
terrible, a tragedy…what she went through up until those last moments to report
from that place.”

“She’s
dead because of me.” Mac swallowed hard and put his head down.

Mac
described Karen’s willfulness and her drive. There was a glimmer in his eye
about her at times, and Shelby felt a twinge of jealousy, but she tried to
shake it off. It was ridiculous. He’d warned Karen, he said. Shelby could
relate to that aspect of his personality. But then he also said he didn’t warn
her nearly enough. He’d been by her side but not close enough. He’d tried to
grab her back from the mob but not hard enough. Shelby watched as his very
words seemed to pull him down, and away from her.

“Some of
my scars are pretty fresh, you saw them. This job is really the first time I’ve
been paired with someone since what happened with Karen. When you were running
ahead, and forgetting about what could happen, what danger could be ahead,
sometimes I saw her, and not you.”

“And when
I did see you, with Davie Groll – hell, even when it was just that damn dog coming
after us – it makes me sick, how much I worry about you. I worry about you to
the degree that I think, if we’re together, I could smother you, or straight-up
drive myself crazy.”   

Was he
trying to dump her? Was this one weekend and goodbye? Shelby wondered if she’d
been played, but she didn’t think so.

Mac
continued, “I failed Karen and I can’t forgive myself. If I fail you, if you
get hurt...” He stopped and let the thought hang in the air.

“I highly
doubt my little Grand City beat is going to be any sort of comparison for what
you’ve seen, what Karen went through.” Shelby offered, but Mac just shook his
head.

“You are
ambitious, talented, gorgeous, and more than any of that, you’re compassionate.
I highly doubt Grand City will be your last stop.”

Shelby
leaned forward and put his face in her hands. “My last stop is wherever yours
is.” She kissed him softly and held him. Then, as it always did between them,
the kiss grew hot and demanding, but this time when they made love it was
gentle. Mac’s eyes were on hers the entire time, taking her in. She held his
stare.

What Mac
told her confirmed Shelby’s suspicions—he was the opposite of the gruff,
hardened, war photographer. He was wounded, he was raw, but he was far from
calloused. And Shelby was right, he did love her, she knew it.

Now she
just had to reassure him that it was okay, they were okay, she was okay, and in
that moment all of that was the truth.

Mac
thought that finally being with Shelby might take the edge off the sexual tension
he’d felt with her at work but it had not. It was worse if that was possible.
Concentrating on WLUV assignments at the station was a challenge in the first
few days. But since Mac had told Shelby about Karen and revealed his fears he
noticed that she’d tried to stay closer and listen to him when he warned her about
something, and in general she barreled ahead a
bit
less. All of these
were good developments, in Mac’s way of thinking.

They also
attempted to shield the relationship from the rest of the newsroom. Clearly
Macy knew because she was an accomplice, but she wasn’t saying anything to
anyone. Mac didn’t notice any snickering and for that he was grateful. He’d
have to beat the crap out of anyone who said a bad word about Shelby. He didn’t
want her reputation tarnished because of him. If anything, though, the whole
town seemed to think that the almost-Mayor McDouche was dating Shelby. While
this was infuriating, it helped deflect attention from the real story. It
allowed them to have privacy.

They’d
made a pact to be professional at work, and they both stuck to it, in that that
never touched each other. But at every opportunity, Shelby pushed him. She’d
whisper in his ear, she’d slide forward so her skirt would hitch up, and she’d
lean toward him to make him crazy. Mac was basically staying at her apartment and
each night when they got home, he’d make her pay for each of her taunts.

It was so
good between them that it made Mac nervous. He was old enough – or maybe just
jaded enough – to know that nothing this perfect ever lasted.

Macy
called him into the Cube one day to talk about his long-term future with WLUV.

“I can see
Shelby is happy, so I’m assuming you’re treating her well.” She got right to
the point as usual.

“Yeah, for
some reason she’s into me. I’m just going to consider myself lucky and just try
not to screw it up,” Mac answered.

“You won’t
screw it up. You’ve never allowed yourself a chance to be happy or to let your
guard down. You deserve this chance. Of course, if you stay, people will
eventually figure out you’re together…what do you think about that?” Macy
asked.

“Well, as
long as we do our jobs I don’t see as it is how it is their business.”

“Right,
good. Speaking of business, you’re going to sign a year deal. I can see no
reason for you to leave.” She smiled wickedly, “I’ve got you now.”

“So Shelby
was your plan all along? I fall for her, and you get a highly talented network
photographer in this Podunk ice bucket.”  Mac had already admitted to himself
that they’d found good stories, important stories, even in a small town.
War-torn, godforsaken countries oceans away weren’t the only place for
compelling news. Mac could get used to being here with Shelby, working for
Macy, although he could do without all the damn snow.

“Yep. I’m
an evil genius for sure. I’ll get the contract together so you can sign next
week.” Mac couldn’t believe he was about to commit to staying here, but he was.
He’d report on grass growing if it meant being with Shelby. He couldn’t believe
how much had changed in his life in the short time he’d been here.

Macy’s
attention shifted to one of the cable networks she had on in her office.

“Oh my
god.” Her jaw dropped and she reached for the remote control to turn up the
volume. Mac turned to look at what prompted her reaction.

“Correspondent
Karen Keith, who had been reported as murdered by terrorists less than one year
ago, has emerged in a small village outside of the capital city. Reports in the
field indicate that she’d survived her captivity and was finally safe enough to
contact the outside world when...”

At that
moment, everything Mac knew about his current reality shifted, and his heart
felt like it was about to beat outside of his chest. He was panicked and elated
at the same time.
Karen was alive
? This was what he’d hoped for since
the moment she’d been snatched.

He didn’t
remember leaving Macy’s office. He didn’t remember grabbing his stuff, but he
had his bag on his shoulder as he made it to the airport. He didn’t remember
standing in line to book his flight to New York as he watched the breaking news
of Karen Keith on all the cable news channels, but he was on a plane. Worst of
all, he realized, as he hailed a cab to the world headquarters of CNTV, was
that he didn’t remember Shelby during any of it.

All he
knew was he needed to be there when Karen came home. Karen was alive and Mac
only could focus on the questions:
How? What happened? Did she blame him
?
There were too many questions, too many emotions; his mind was flooded.

Mac didn’t
think about Shelby when he agreed to accompany the debriefing team and news
crew to greet Karen Keith as she made it through several stops on her way home.
He said yes, without question he would be there. He would photograph it if they
wanted – if she wanted – and he prayed that Karen would forgive him. But more
than anything else he gave thanks that she was alive, somehow alive.

Mac didn’t
remember Shelby for hours, and while he journeyed to heal one wound, he was
ripping open another.

**

Shelby
expected a call. Sure it hurt as she saw him dash out of the newsroom, without
a glance in her direction, but he would surely call.

She was
actually happy when she saw the news that Karen Keith was alive. She was
relieved that her idol had survived what had to be an incredible ordeal and,
just like the rest of the country, she was hungry for the details of the story.
The coverage riveted the nation. The beautiful American journalist’s tale had
to be harrowing, had to be told; the networks understood that and soon each
detail of the story emerged.

She kept
her panic in check about Mac. He had her heart and he knew it. Certainly
protecting her heart was as important to him as he’d protected her safety all
those times. She trusted he was hers.

But as she
watched the coverage and the hours dragged on, and her calls went unanswered,
the panic bubbled just under the surface and became harder to suppress. Every
time her head told her that Mac had left her for his true love, Karen, she
pushed it away. She had faith in Mac. Maybe he didn’t even have a phone where
he was.

More
details emerged in the story, and Mac’s face started to appear in the coverage.
He looked like the rugged hero, the love who’d lost. Once the cameras found Mac
and discovered his role as Karen’s photographer on all those war assignments,
the reports started to take on the tone of an epic love story.

They
featured an interview with a marine who talked about the injuries Mac had
sustained in his valiant efforts to save Karen, to try to stop her from being
wrenched away by the angry mob. Shelby knew the stories of his actions were
true because she’d seen the scars on his body. She’d kissed each one.

That Mac
was never interviewed for any piece somehow made it worse. He was with the
network crews and the government debriefing teams for the moment that Karen
would walk off the Black Hawk, but he remained a silent hero.

 In just
twenty-four hours this story had pushed every other story off the front pages.
The “Miraculous survival of Karen Keith,” “The return of Karen Keith,” “The
history of Karen Keith,” all of it was on a continuous loop. By the time she
was to be transported to the U.S. Airbase in Germany, it was apparently the
only thing going on in the world. The networks broke into programming and
breathlessly carried it live. Other than one grainy photograph of Karen in some
village, her emergence from the chopper would be the first time the public, now
hungry for every inch of her, would see their heroine.

Shelby sat
with Macy and Wes in the office along with any of the staff that wasn’t on
deadline, all of them riveted to catch glimpses of Mac in the coverage as the
story unfolded. Thanks to his role in Karen’s life, and his incredibly macho
good looks, the entire country knew who he was now too.

And the
public couldn’t wait to see him reunite with Karen. Tabloids proclaimed him the
“Hunky Hero,” “Sexy Stateside Love,” and other things Mac would hate. Shelby
hated them, too, though maybe for a different reason. She felt like a bad
person for the jealousy that was growing in her heart.

Still,
Shelby gave Mac the benefit of the doubt. He deserved that. He may have been
Karen’s true love, but things had changed…hadn’t they? She also envisioned how
the outside would see her. Another headline occurred to her, “The woman he
cheated on Karen with,” but she brushed out of her mind as quickly as it
entered.

The pool
photographer captured each second as the helicopter landed at the base in
Germany. There was a shot of Mac in a group of people waiting on the tarmac.
The photographer zoomed in on him and Shelby’s breath caught. God, he was
handsome. No wonder this story was getting bigger by the second.

The hatch
opened and a few soldiers emerged, they turned and offered their hands to a
lithe figure whose shoulder-length chestnut hair was being swept by the wind. 
It really was Karen Keith. She wore a military-issue jumpsuit cinched tight at
her waist. The camera came in close and focused on her beautiful face, her
strong jaw tilted up. The camera found Karen’s hazel eyes as she scanned the
small greeting party. Something registered in that second; she recognized
something and then raced forward out of frame. The camera widened its angle to
capture the moment that was sure to be on the cover of magazines worldwide: The
beautiful and brave Karen Keith ran into the arms of the strong and handsome
war photographer Ray Macmillan. Mac stepped forward from amidst the marines and
doctors and caught her in his arms.

The image
was beautiful, really, Mac’s strong arms encircling Karen in an embrace. They
pressed cheeks together and then she collapsed. True to form, Mac didn’t allow
her to hit the ground. As Karen’s legs appeared to give way Mac swept her up
effortlessly with a look of concern etched on his face. In seconds, a gurney
was there and Mac softly placed Karen atop it. Military doctors hovered around
her as the final romantic moment played out. Karen reached her hand out and Mac
took it. He stayed by her side as she was wheeled into the military hospital,
holding her hand. It was the image that captured the hearts of viewers
everywhere…

And
crushed Shelby’s.

She was a
fool. What had she thought would happen? Any person on the street knew that
this love story was about Mac and Karen, not Mac and Shelby. Was there any way
this could have played out any differently?

She
finally gave in to the panic she’d worked so hard to hold off; it washed over
her in a hot wave. Her face was red and she knew it. She needed to leave the
office, get out of the station, and just crawl in a hole somewhere.

Mac had
been reunited with Karen and it meant her place in his heart was only
temporary. To Mac she wasn’t the real thing, Karen was. And Karen was back.

Shelby
reached her couch and lay down. She wasn’t sure when she’d get up again, but it
wasn’t before the boiling panic had turned cold and she learned what a broken
heart felt like. She cried there, she slept there, and all the while she
ignored the calls on her phone and the texts from the office. And she tried
like hell to avoid any additional coverage of the love story of the century.

When just
four days ago she wanted to shout it out to everyone, how she was in love, how
Mac was “hers,” now she hoped she’d never be revealed. She’d look like an ass.
She felt like an ass.

No one
would feel sorry for her. She could see it now if the story ever came out: “The
hot little diversion,” “The rookie reporter,” The sidebar.” So Shelby lay on
the couch, alone, and did nothing but mourn the abrupt loss of something she
foolishly thought would last forever.