Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 (27 page)

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Authors: Dorothy F. Shaw

Tags: #old flame;secret crush;one night stand;friends to lovers

BOOK: Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3
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Chapter Thirty-Nine

Cyn
stretched out on the couch in her living room, television turned to the news. She wasn’t watching, she was thinking about Shane and wondering how he was doing. Was he okay? Was he hurting? Was he thinking of her too or did he just hate her guts…then again, like Angie said, hate and love—similar beasts.

She’d had eight sessions with the therapist, and Cyn was beyond glad she’d done it. Shane had been right the whole time. Cyn had needed the help, needed to talk through what had happened to her with a professional. She just wished it hadn’t taken her so long to finally get there and accept the help she’d so desperately needed. But there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. She’d been a little—or maybe a lot—nuts, and caught in a web threaded by anger, fear and denial.

Cyn glanced around the room. Shane had done such a wonderfully sweet thing for her and, to be honest, she loved the paint and the new rug and tables. And Cyn realized, she didn’t hate the room anymore. She loved it. But for two very specific reasons: Cyn finally felt the stranglehold that the attack by Carlos had on her had released. And also because Shane had made the room beautiful for her.

Up until then, Cyn had not allowed herself to contact Shane. But she’d spent the last two sessions with the therapist talking about how she’d pushed him away. And more importantly, why. All of it led back to the attack and beyond to Cyn’s already fragile self-esteem.

She’d already been questioning her judgment regarding men, and when Carlos did what he did, what little faith she had in herself was just blown to bits. Every time she’d fought with Shane, it was like a demon had risen inside her, but also each time she’d tried to push him away, it wasn’t because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust herself.

Shane didn’t deserve any of that shit. And when Angie said Shane deserved a medal as well as be considered for sainthood, she was right. More than right. Shane deserved so much better than Cyn had given him. He deserved to be loved and cherished and cared for. Daily.

Cyn may not have the best judgment when it came to men, but her judgment regarding Shane had always been solid and true. Now, she just had to figure out if he’d ever be willing to forgive her. But even if he did, would he ever want her back? God, she hoped so.

Cyn eyed her cell on the coffee table. Should she call him directly or should she call Joey and try to get a feel of the situation?
Shit…
Cyn picked up the phone and scrolled through her contacts. Finding the one she wanted, she hit the Call button.

“Hey there, chica! How’s it going?”

“Maiya? Can I come over? I need to talk.”

“Yep. See you in twenty.”

“Thanks.” Cyn pulled the phone from her ear and went in search of her shoes. She needed a plan and Maiya would know exactly how to help her.

* * * * *

Cyn
sat in one of the large leather chairs in Maiya and Ryan’s formal living room. Not much had changed with the decor in the room, but Cyn could definitely see the little touches of Maiya around the space now. Ryan had gotten rid of all the furniture in the family room in favor of Maiya’s set, claiming hers was nicer. In Cyn’s opinion, both sets of furniture were nice, but she knew it was Ryan’s way of making his home his and Maiya’s now.

Her brother was such good man, like Shane.

The ache that’d taken up residence in Cyn’s chest doubled and she rubbed her sternum. God almighty she missed him. More than she’d ever missed anyone in her life.

Maiya came rushing in from the kitchen with her hair all wild and flowing around her face and a bottle of beer in each hand. “So, I called Angie.”

Cyn took the offered bottle. “She’s coming?” She sipped the beer. “You think that’s necessary?”

“Yep. Why not, right? Between the three of us, we should be able to figure out your next move.” Maiya took a seat on the sofa, curling her legs beneath her.

“This is stupid. I should just call him. But I’m fucking terrified that he’s going to hang up on me.”

The front door opened and in came Angie. She set her purse on the floor next to one of the tables. “Okay, got here as fast as I could. I was in the middle of a hair appointment.”

“You are so high maintenance.” Maiya tilted her bottle back.

“Back at ya!” Angie pulled her laptop from her purse and set it on the couch.

“Your hair does look cute.” Maiya smiled. “New color?”

Angie opened the laptop. “Thanks, just darkened it a bit. Added some purple highlights too.”

“Wild child.” Cyn rolled her eyes and glanced at Maiya.

Angie stuck out her tongue at Cyn before she ran out, returning with a beer for herself. She set the bottle down on the end table, took a seat on the couch next to Maiya and propped her computer on her lap.

“Holy crap, put that thing on a coaster!” Maiya jumped up and grabbed a coaster from the table drawer and placed it under the beer. “We don’t need Ryan having a nervous breakdown.”

Angie broke into a fit of giggles. “But it’s just so much fun seeing him lose his shit over stuff like that.”

Maiya chuckled. “Are you kidding? I caught him lint-rollering the comforter the other day. He said there were fuzzies all over it from the extra blanket.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Cyn brushed the hair out of her eyes.

Maiya shook her head. “Not one bit. And you know that earned him a blowjob in the closet.”

Angie scowled and raised her hand. “TMI! I do not want to hear about you sucking my brother’s dick.”

Cyn laughed again and then cleared her throat. “Okay, blowjobs aside, can we get back on topic?” Cyn leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Angie, please tell me you’re not working.”

“Hell no, I’m looking up flights to Texas for you.” Angie glanced up from the computer screen.

Cyn sat up straight. “You’re what?”

“Good thinking, Ang.” Maiya nudged Angie’s shoulder with her fingertip. “I think you going to Texas is a great idea, Cyn. Just show up at his door.”

“Thanks!” Angie took a sip of her beer. “There’s a direct flight tomorrow morning at five.”

Nervous energy propelled Cyn to her feet and she started pacing. “I can’t just show up at his door, you guys!”

“Why not? I showed up at this very door and look how good that turned out.” With a shrug, Maiya raised her bottle to her lips. “Ryan was a little shocked, of course, but then we ended up having sex on the couch.”

Angie let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you ever stop? I mean seriously. You two are like rabbits. And I’m really horny. It’s not fair.”

Maiya grinned. “I know, it’s fucking great!”

Frustration pounded through Cyn’s mind in time with her heart and she stopped, turned to her sisters and pressed her hands to her chest. “Me? Can we get back to me, please? And in case you’re all wondering, I miss this man like my life depended on it. That also means I miss his cock. His cock is like crack.” She moaned and glanced at her sister. “Sorry, Angie.”

“No problem.” Angie smothered her grin with her hand.

“Thank you. So can we
pleeeeease
get back to me and what I should do?” Cyn ran her fingers through her hair and tugged on the ends.

Ryan came in the room. “What are you three squawking about?”

“Hi, baby.” Maiya smiled. “Don’t worry, we’re using coasters.”

Ryan rolled his eyes but then moved to his wife and gave her a soft kiss. Fucking hell, this wasn’t going anywhere. Cyn was no closer to knowing what to do than she was an hour ago.

“Thanks for using the coasters.” He smiled at Maiya and smoothed his fingers through her hair. Then he moved and gave Cyn and Angie a peck on the cheek. “Nice to see both of you. So, what’s going on? The three of you together usually means some kind of scheme is in the works.”

Angie glanced up from her computer. “We’re going to send Cyn to Texas.”

“Oh Christ.” Cyn placed her hand on her forehead.

“Yep, we are.” Maiya beamed.

Ryan looked between the three of them. “What’s in Te— Ohhh!”

“Exactly!” Cyn giggled.

“Ambush, huh? That the plan?”

Maiya smiled. “It worked on you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either, Ry. I mean, it’s been like a month. What if he slams the door in my face? Or worse—oh God! What if he’s dating someone else?” Cyn wrapped her arms around her middle. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ryan moved to her and rubbed her back. “He’s not dating someone else, Cyn. Relax.”

She glanced up at her brother. “How do you know?”

“Because I do. Haven’t you talked to Joey?” Ryan pulled her over to the sofa and urged her to sit. “You should talk to Joey.”

“You are totally holding out, Mr. Donnelly. Spill.” Maiya frowned up at her husband.

“Not spilling anything, Mrs. Donnelly. Not holding out anything either.” He glanced back to Cyn. “Call Joey. Then decide what you want to do from there.”

“All right.” Angie closed the laptop lid. “I guess flight plans are on hold.”

Cyn frowned. “Okay. I’ll call Joey.”

Cyn said her goodbyes to her brother and sisters and headed for home. She wasn’t feeling any better about the situation, actually she felt worse now. Something was going on and Ryan sure wasn’t sharing. She was almost afraid to call Joey and find out what the info was Ryan refused to share. Even though Ryan said there wasn’t someone else in Shane’s life, Cyn couldn’t help but think there might be.

Shane was a great guy. He was responsible. He was considerate. He was smart. Good-looking. Good in bed—Cyn’s stomach rolled over and she cringed. The thought of Shane in bed with anyone but her, made Cyn want to hurl everywhere.

Instead of going over to Joey’s house, Cyn went home. She needed to think. Needed to decide what was best for her. She’d come through and dealt with some really harsh shit thanks to the therapist, but she wasn’t so sure she could emotionally handle any additional pain.

For the moment, she was in limbo with Shane. Staying in that position another day or so wouldn’t make a difference, but it would give Cyn a little more time to sort her head and be one hundred percent positive she was ready to deal with whatever the outcome might be with him.

At that moment, if he rejected her, she wasn’t sure she could survive it.

Chapter Forty

S
hane sat at his kitchen table reading through the proposal his mother’s real estate agent had faxed over. It’d been just over a month since he’d left L.A., and he’d held his mother off as long as he could. It was time to make a decision. After reading the same line over four times, he pushed the papers aside and glanced out the kitchen window. He couldn’t focus…and that was for one very petite reason: Cyn.

Unlike his mother, who wouldn’t leave him the hell alone, he’d heard nothing from Cyn. Not one damn text even. Restless energy fueled by agitation pumped in time with his pulse and Shane rose and moved to the window. Apparently she was real fucking good at just letting shit go and moving on with her self-imposed single life.

It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the bright blue sky, but fuck if he cared…his shitty mood made everything appear dull. Maybe a ride on his motorcycle would do him some good. With that thought being the best one he’d had all day, Shane grabbed his baseball cap and headed to his garage.

After blowing the dust off the surface of the Harley, Shane mounted the Softtail and fired it up. His silver and royal-blue-flamed baby started on the first try, the pipes rumbling nice and loud in the garage. Shane walked the bike backward out to the driveway and let the engine warm up a little longer. After a few minutes, he turned his baseball cap around backward, tossed on his shades, and gave the throttle a little twist, rapping the pipes once before pulling away from the house.

Just outside of his rural neighborhood, Shane rounded the first corner and then hit the first long stretch of pavement, opening the throttle wide. The wind stung his face, but helped clear his mind. At least a little. His chest ached with guilt. Shane didn’t want to lose his father’s house, but there wasn’t any reason to keep it.

Cyn was gone…he’d lost her.

If she wanted him, she would’ve contacted him by now. Shane had talked to Joey a few times, but the topic of Cyn hadn’t come up. He had a feeling Joey was steering clear of it on purpose, and that was probably for the best. Things had gone sour between him and the guy’s sister—shit like that could ruin a friendship and that was the last thing Shane wanted.

Although Shane lived near his mother’s family, he wasn’t overly close with them. In fact the Donnellys felt more like his family than his birth family ever did. It was a very sad, but true fact. If Shane signed over his part of the house, letting his mother buy him out, there’d be no reason to ever go back to Los Angeles again.

He could go visit Joey and the rest of the Donnelly family, but he’d risk running into Cyn, and the way Shane felt now, there was no way he could just
run
into Cyn and
not
have his heart break over and over again.

He loved her—was in love with her. And she didn’t love him back. Another very sad, but true fact. Shane had never been in love. Lust, and maybe very strong like, but never love. Which meant he’d never had his heart broken—the damn thing was shredded.

Shattered and stomped into so many pieces he was sure it’d take an eternity or more for it to heal.

Shane sped through an S curve, and then over a bridge covering a creek, letting the feel of the wind caressing his skin carry him away. Some of the tension in his limbs eased, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be.

No amount of riding was going to remove the ache in his chest. Fuck it…selling out to his mother was for the best. Staying away from Los Angeles was his only hope of getting past the breakup with Cyn.

He had a list of things he wanted to be sure his mother packed up and sent to him. It would have to be handled outside of the normal real estate transaction but he didn’t care, it was going to be part of the deal. If she didn’t agree, then no deal at all.

The items he wanted had belonged to his father. Pictures, tools in the garage, some knickknacks from his side of the family—nothing of real value, yet priceless to Shane. Over the years, his mother had slowly gotten rid of every trace of Shane’s father that she could, but not all of it was gone. What was left, Shane wanted and he was hell-bent on getting it. Unwilling to go back to L.A., he just hoped everything could be handled by mail or electronically.

At a slower pace, Shane made his way back home. Tomorrow he’d go through the papers again and be sure everything was in order. He’d be getting a healthy check for his share, but he didn’t care about the money. The only thing he cared about was the loss of his last tie to his father, and the loss of Cyn. Losing his father at such a young age was something he had no control over. Losing Cyn wasn’t much different.

Letting them both go was the only thing he could control.

* * * * *

T
hree days had gone by and Shane still hadn’t gone through the papers. He eyed the stack on the kitchen counter as he fixed himself a late breakfast. Talk about not wanting to deal with a problem. All his bitching at Cyn to deal with her issues and here he was avoiding his just the same. He sighed and swallowed past the lump that’d taken up residence in his throat since leaving her.

Every time Shane read through the paperwork, intending to also sign the documents, he couldn’t get past the second page. It was just a house—a huge part of his past that held precious memories, but still…just a house. However, he was starting to think that maybe his unwillingness to just get the deal done and over with had more to do with Cyn than his father.

It’d been foolish of him to entertain the idea of living in that house with her. She had her own life, her own home, never mind a boatload of shit to work through and overcome. God, he really hoped she was doing okay. So many times he’d wanted to reach out to her over the past month…even if he just got her voicemail. At least he’d hear her voice.

But he hadn’t.

Shane stood at the counter, eating the eggs and bacon he’d cooked, cursing himself a coward with each forkful. He took a swig of his milk. Fact was, if she wanted to talk to him she could’ve reached out.

But she hadn’t.

“What a fucking mess.” He took another swallow of his milk before slamming the glass down a little too hard, sloshing a generous wave of the white fluid over the side onto the counter as well as the paperwork. “
Fuuuuckkk!
Good job, dumbass.” With an exasperated growl, Shane picked up the now-dripping papers. He reached for a towel and tossed it over the spill…and then the doorbell rang. Jesus fucking Christ, when it rained it poured—or spilled milk to be more specific.

After doing his best to separate the papers and clean up the biggest part of the spill, the doorbell rang again and Shane tossed the soiled towel in the sink, washed his hands and headed for the front door. Whoever was there rang the bell once more by the time he reached it. “Yeah, hold on to your ass. I’m coming!” Shane swung the door wide and—

“I kinda like it much better when you hold on to my ass instead.” Cyn pulled off her sunglasses.

Shane’s mouth dropped open, and convinced he was seeing things, he blinked a couple of times. Closing his eyes tight, he swallowed, before opening them again. Nope, he was seeing just fine. She was still there—just on the other side of his screen door.

“Shane?”

A thick coat of rubber cement had somehow plastered itself all over his tongue, and with no small amount of effort plus a hard mental kick, he managed to get his mouth moving. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Shane frowned. A chaotic jumble of emotional thoughts skittered through him, bouncing around his brain like a damn rubber ball. She wanted to talk? What the fuck did she want to talk about? Why the hell hadn’t she just called him? Jesus fucking hell, she looked good. Shane shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from tearing right through the mesh screening to touch her. “Talk?”

“Yeah, talk.” She shrugged. “I know I came without being invited, but you think I can come in?”

Shit. Fuck. Hell. Shane pulled his hands free of his pocket and opened the screen door. “Sorry. Come in.”

“Thanks.” She slid past him, pulling her small suitcase behind her…and her familiar scent hit him in the gut like a sledgehammer. Shane let go of the screen door and it slammed closed. Cyn jumped and turned around, her hand pressed to her chest. “Holy shit!”

“Shit!” Without thinking twice about it, Shane closed the small distance between them and clasped her upper arms. “Sorry. It’s okay, Cyn. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Again without a thought, he pressed his lips to her forehead as he ran his palms up and down her arms.

She froze in his embrace but after a moment, placed her hands on his sides. They stood there for an hour, or maybe just a few minutes, in silence. Shane’s lips pressed to her forehead, her hands on his sides, his fingers curled around her upper arms. Until finally, Cyn broke the silence, her words a bare whisper. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Shane’s heart cracked wide open as he released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. All the feelings he’d been trying and failing to drown for her came rushing to the surface. It was almost like finally getting air after being submerged under water for too long. “Gonna be the death of me, girl.”

Cyn let out a little giggle and the sweet sound of her laugh rolled through him like a warm summer breeze. Shane wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him. At the same time, Cyn circled his waist and gripped the back of his shirt.

She was trembling and Shane held her tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she said against his chest. “There’s so much I’m sorry for, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Shh.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Not yet, please? Just…just let me hold you for a minute or maybe several.”

She nodded and held him tighter. Shane didn’t know specifically what she was there to talk about, but when a woman said she wanted to talk, it didn’t usually mean good things.

If she’d come to clear the air and formally end things between them in a decent, amicable manner—clearing the air so to speak, Shane knew he wasn’t ready to face that yet. There was no way she’d come down to Texas to get back together with him, he was sure. They lived in two different states after all, and she had her whole “be single for a year” mission, plus the healing he’d been praying was finally happening for her.

Bottom line, Shane had her in his arms at that moment, and he wasn’t ready to let go.

Hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be.

C
yn pressed her face against Shane’s broad chest and held on to him with every ounce of strength she possessed. The comforting scent of him—cologne, and the clean aroma of the sun penetrated her senses, and Cyn drew in breath after deep breath like a starving woman.

She never thought she’d be in his arms again. And by the way he was holding her, she could pretty much guess that maybe he didn’t hate her after all. But she still had to be sure; still needed to make things right between them, and hopefully with any luck, he’d take her back.

They stood in each other’s embrace for a long while, before Shane finally rubbed his hands up and down her back, then let her go. Instead of pulling away, he cupped her face in his palms and she gazed up at him.

His beautiful blue eyes shined with what looked like unshed tears. Cyn’s heart clenched like it was locked in a vise and she smoothed her hand over his cheek. She knew she’d hurt him more than he’d ever reveal, but based on the expression in his eyes, Cyn was getting a pretty good idea of how much damage she’d actually done. “Shane, I—”

“I don’t want to talk yet.” His gaze roamed over her face. “I can’t yet.”

“Okay. But I…”

“It can wait. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

Cyn let out a sigh. She wasn’t going to argue with him, but she had to admit, the fact that he didn’t want to talk freaked her out. Maybe he’d figured out why she was there, and instead he wanted to break things off between them, but wasn’t ready to do the deed yet.

She knew he cared about her, and maybe even loved her, but sometimes love wasn’t enough when the damage done was too great. Reluctantly she agreed, though she knew it’d be easier if he just ripped the bandage off to be done with it, instead of making her wait and wonder. “Okay, Shane.”

“Okay.” He sighed, bent his head and covered her mouth in a kiss.

Oh, sweet heaven she missed this… Cyn wrapped her arms around his neck and welcomed his tongue with her own. His taste flowed through her, making her blood boil with instant lust. She pressed her body against him and the kiss grew hotter, wetter and deeper. And Cyn wanted more.

She wasn’t shocked, after all that’s how it’d always been with Shane. Cyn couldn’t get enough of him. The passion exploded between them, as it always did thanks to a chemistry she’d never had with any other man but him. Cyn knew without a doubt she’d never find that with anyone else.

He pulled from her mouth and moved to her neck. When his hot tongue stroked over her neck, Cyn let her head fall back with a gasp. She gripped the back of his neck. “I need you.”

Shane pulled away from her neck, threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging her head back. “Whatever you need, you get from me.” Again he took her mouth and dived his tongue inside, tangling it with hers, and gripped one breast in his large palm.

He found her nipple through the fabric of her shirt and bra and Cyn moaned, arching to him. The feel of his erection through his pants against her tummy drew another moan from her and she moved her hands down his body to his lip of his jeans. She made quick work of the button and zipper, and slid her hand down his boxers, taking his length in hand. The warm satin feel of his cock in her palm sent another bolt of arousal through her body.

His prick jerked in her palm and he yanked from her mouth. “Fuck, girl.”

“Want this, Shane.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Want you to fuck my mouth. Want you to fuck my tits.”

“Goddamn, missed that dirty mouth of yours.”

Cyn grinned and stroked her hand up and down his length. “Missed this fine cock.”

“Take it. It’s yours.”

She dropped to her knees and he shoved his pants down his hips. Though she hoped he meant it, Cyn tried to ignore that he’d said his cock was hers. It was just talk…but she’d take it anyway, because whether or not he meant it, she knew it was true. His prick was hers.
He
was hers. And
she
was his.

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