Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) (17 page)

“Consider it done,” she
said insipidly, closing the window and ordering the driver to pull away from
the curb.

Shayla worked with
her uncle’s publicist through the night putting out fires. Tommy and Tess would
be arriving earlier than planned. Tommy had an unimaginable wealth of resources,
and would dig deep to find the perpetrator…and bury them. How her uncle handled
Mrs. Huntston would be his decision, but there was no doubt the woman had just
dug her own political grave.

Mat arrived like
clockwork the following morning, a dozen white roses in hand. Cupping her elbow,
he greeted her with a brief kiss hello. Leaning into his kiss brought the
familiar scent of dry-cleaning and body wash. But the feel of his soft lips sparked
a new aversion, sending a shudder over her shoulders.

Locking eyes, they
both frowned in surprise. “Are you cold?” he asked, moving into the kitchen and
opening cabinet to retrieve a clear vase.

She shook her head,
somewhat shocked by her own reaction. Mat wasn’t a great kisser, but she’d
always found comfort in his kisses. She’d certainly never found them repulsive,
until now. Shayla frowned, saddened by the cold, queasy ache building in her
throat.

“So what the heck
did you do in Greece? Did Tommy really marry that woman?”

She nodded, her
heart thudding. “Sorry, I couldn’t tell you. We need to talk.”

He snipped the
bottom of the stems. “Yes, we do,” he agreed quietly, filling the clear vase
one rose at a time.

By the sensitive
tone in his voice, Shayla wondered if his mother had shown him the pictures. “Something
happened over the weekend.”

Mat snipped the last
stem and plunked it into the water. He paused, a tightly puckered brow creased
across his forehead when he faced her. “Are you asking me or telling me that
something happened over the weekend?”

“I met someone in
Greece,” she professed warily, carefully watching his reaction through wet
lashes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, it just…happened.”

His shoulders
dropped and he let out a huge sigh. He handed her the damp paper towel he held
and she blew her nose. Mat had never seen her cry, seeming shocked by her
tears. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“I know, but I hate
telling you and I don’t want to hurt your feelings. It—”

“Let’s sit down. I
need to tell you a few things too.” Mat looked into her woeful face and let out
another sigh of what sounded like relief. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he ushered
her to the couch. “You go first and calm down. I’m not mad, Shayla. Just tell
me what happened.”

She sat beside him,
perched on the edge of the couch.

He took one of her
hands in his. “I think we might need a shot of Jack Daniels.”

She sniffled and
shook her head. “I spent the weekend with Tess’s son, John. It just happened. I
feel horrible and guilty, but we’re just not meant to be. I can’t marry you. We
don’t want the same things in life—”

“You’re right. We’re
not meant to be.”

His reserved
reaction sent a ripple of guilt down her spine. She cringed a bit. She felt him
trembling, and a clammy layer of moisture covered his hands.

“I met someone this
weekend too, in Washington.”

A ticklish skitter traipsed
through her abdomen, partly shocked and somewhat relieved. “You did? Have you
seen her before or was this the first time?”

Mat’s lips pursed
and he blew out a long drawn out puff of air. “I know I can trust you, Shayla.
God, you’re about the only person I can really trust. I know this is going to
hurt you and I want you to know that that was never my intension.” Mat seemed to
be in agony watching her cry. “I think I’m gay.”

“What?” Her head
automatically shirked back in disbelief. Shayla’s lashes fluttered repeatedly
and she hopped up from the couch. “Gay? What? How long have you been gay? Are
you sure?”
  

 
“Before you get upset, let me explain.”
He tugged on her fingers, encouraging her to sit. “This weekend was the first
time. I experimented once in college, but it never got off the ground. I can’t
tell you how horrible I’ve felt the last two days, knowing I had to come clean
to you. But for the first time in my life, Shayla, I feel…right inside.”

Her mouth opened then
closed. “I think we are definitely going to need the Jack.”

As she processed the
information, reflecting on bits and pieces of their relationship, things began
to make sense now. He followed her to the kitchen, retrieving two rock glasses
and loading them with ice.

Shayla poured them
each a stiff drink and smiled thoughtfully. “To our non-engagement.”

“To our
non-engagement.”

The sweet slow burn
coated her throat. She couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Mat seemed, like a
boulder had been lifted off his shoulders. How horrible it would be to live in
denial, to feel the weight of fearing acceptance. As the thought furrowed
through her mind, she saw her father’s face. She understood what it was like to
hide certain aspects of your life so people couldn’t see deep inside your
story.

“God, I have so many
questions.” Smiling sheepishly, she asked earnestly, “Was it wonderful? I mean,
if you’ve had urges and thoughts before, was it what you expected it to be?”

“Are you seriously
asking? I don’t know if we should talk about it,” he said candidly. “The last
thing I want to do is hurt your feelings.”

“Mat, you were my
friend first. I’m really asking.”

He paused. “Imagine
if
you’d
been having sex with a woman
all these years and then you tried out a man.” Mat nodded, clinking her glass
again. Appreciation shimmered in his bright blue eyes. “Not that there was
anything wrong with you or our sex. You were always—”

Shayla held up a
hand. “It’s obvious to me now we had a relationship of convenience. I was able
to hide from the past and you were able to hide from the present,” she
acknowledged in a low voice, a bit of sadness mixing with understanding.

“I’m sorry I haven’t
been the boyfriend you needed me to be. I hope you don’t feel like our
relationship was a waste of two years of your life.”

“I don’t feel that
way at all. Some things happen at a particular time for a certain reason. The
weekend seemed to be perfect timing for both of us. Honestly, I just want you
to be happy.”

“Do you really like
him? Tess’s son?”

“John. Yes, he’s
amazing.” Her eyes held wide and she nodded slowly. “Your mother knows.”

“Believe me, she has
no idea I’m gay.” The word
gay
rolled
off his tongue in triumph, as if it was the biggest achievement of his life to
say the word out loud. He shot a swig of whiskey, washing down the ghastly
notion. “And I have no idea how I’m going to break the truth to her. Or when.”

“Your mother knows
about me, about my affair with John. There’s more I need to tell.”

They continued their
open dialogue, each sharing vulnerabilities they’d never exposed to each other before.
The wall that had been built up over the last few years by false pretenses came
crumbling down, spurring a new bond of friendship. Shayla came to the
understanding that their relationship had always been more about suitability
than love. She’d never expected her connection with Mat to be passionate and he
never pushed to know about her past.

He apologized
repeatedly for his mother’s actions regarding the private investigator. She
appreciated his kind words, but knew all too well he couldn’t control his
mother’s actions. However, one thing was certain: it wouldn’t be Mat’s
sexuality that would cripple his mother’s campaign. It would be her own
malicious cruel intentions.

After a few hours of
lengthy conversation and a cup of hot coffee, she walked Mat to the door. A
simple act of saying goodbye they’d done hundreds of times changed as he held
her close. Swathed in his full embrace she knew, for the first time in his life,
Mat was comfortable in his own skin.

****

Shayla tried calling
and texting John over the next few days, but was sent straight to voice mail
with no return text. She wondered if he was out walking the streets of Las
Vegas barefoot or simply ignoring her. By the fourth day, she was fully annoyed
and worried sick. Tommy and Tess had arrived the day before, and fortunately,
Shayla was so busy dealing with entertainment producers and stalking paparazzi,
that she didn’t have much time to dwell on John.
  

“Don’t worry, there’s
probably just no reception where he’s at,” Tracy said when she called asking
for copies of pictures taken at the wedding. “When you didn’t call him for two
days, he texted me saying he was taking off for Utah.”

“He knew I wasn’t
going to be able to see Mat for at least a day or two.” She couldn’t contain
the urgency or irritation in her tone. Shayla added defensively, “I ended
things with Mat.”

“There’s a little
more to it than that. Yesterday was our dad’s birthday.” Tracy cleared the
sentiment from her throat. “John and my dad used to do an annual ride this time
of year in Moab. My guess is, he just couldn’t deal with everything going on all
at once, so he took off. We all miss our dad. And don’t take this the wrong
way, we love Tom and we are ridiculously happy for our mom, but the wedding was
little bitter sweet. It’s the start of something new and wonderful, yet it’s
also closing another door. The wedding just wreaked a little havoc on our
emotions, that’s all. None of us even realized it until we got home to the
house
. Then JC and I left the next day.
We had to fly back to school in Colorado for exams.”

“I’m sorry,” Shayla said
uneasily. “I was so happy for them I didn’t look at it from your prospective.
Not to mention I couldn’t see three feet beyond your brother.”

“John’s used to getting
what he goes after. He’s usually chasing goals not a woman, but regardless, he
just sets his mind to something and works hard until he gets it.” Amusement
laced her tone. “He wants you! Poor guy had a melt down after we got off the
plane.”

“If you talk to him,
would you mind asking him to please call me?”

“I doubt I’ll hear
from him before you. We’re heading straight from school to the cabin. But if I
do, I’ll mention we talked. My mom would never forgive him if he didn’t make it
to the cabin for Christmas, so don’t worry. He’ll show up.”

“Thanks. See you in
a few days,” she murmured, dizzy with anticipation and nerves.

If Shayla could’ve
summed up the definition of the word
forever
,
it would’ve been her flight from LA to Colorado. She received one text from
John two days before.

Sorry I made you worry. I’ll see you at the
cabin. I miss you.

She was so irritated
by the time she got his text, all she could say back was
I’ll see you at the cabin.
 
It
took a whole two minutes longer before she sent another text.
I miss you, too.

By this point, her
brain sizzled, fried from emotional overload and sheer exhaustion. What few
hours of sleep she managed to grab over the last week were full of tossing and
turning. She didn’t know if John would already be at the cabin or if she’d have
to wait to see him.

Shayla missed him
immensely, beyond any words of description, yet she tried to contain her
excitement. The minute possibility she wasn’t even his girlfriend nearly
brought her crumbling to her knees. As the flight neared its destination, she
paced through the cabin. The attendant finally encouraged her to take her seat
for landing.

Dragging herself
through a sea of empty faces, she followed the stream of passengers to the
luggage claim. Bags dropped into the moving luggage carousel. Shayla hitched
her purse strap higher onto her shoulder and squeezed between anxious holiday
travelers. She reached for her grey suitcase, yanking it by the handle.

Someone tried to
grab her suitcase. She spun around, staring into a familiar pair of broad
shoulders. The warmth of John’s strong fingers slid over hers, lifting the
suitcase with ease and standing it upright. His lips brushed her earlobe, “How
many do you have?”

Her pulse rampaged.
“Just one.”

Passengers bumped
and wedged themselves behind her.

She wobbled, molding
herself to his front, staring up at him with dizzy surprise. She grumbled
breathlessly. “I didn’t know if you would come.”

John laid his free
hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from the carousel. “Of course I
was going to come.”

They made it ten
steps, before she stopped abruptly. She could feel the scarlet coloring
creeping up her neck, catching the lobes of her ears on fire. She wiggled free
of his hand on her back and faced him head on. Shayla’s lip twitched and her
chest heaved up and down. “How am I supposed to know that, John? You didn’t
even call me!”

He reached for her,
but she shirked away from his touch. His eyes tapered, accessing her frustration.
 

Days of worry boiled
over, and a flurry of emotions overcame her. “I got one text! One!”

“I’m sorry. I was
outta—”

“What? Out of cell
range?” Her voice climbed higher. She cut him a sharp look, daring him to
argue. “I talked to Tracy. You still should’ve called!”

His eyes shifted to
the crowd taking notice of her outburst. “That’s not exactly what I was going
to say.”

She threw her hands
to her hips. “Do you have a better excuse for ignoring me? Torturing me.
Driving me crazy?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

A small rueful grin
floated at the edge of his bold mouth, sending her into an outburst.

“You think this is
funny?” she gasped, repeating the words he said in Greece. Her blood boiled over
clouding her thoughts. “I have the best weekend of my life and then I don’t
hear from you! I didn’t know if you would be here! I don’t even know if we’re
together! Why the hell—”

“God you’re adorable
when you’re mad.” He released the handle of the suitcase and stroked a loose
strand of hair behind her ear, tracing it with the tip of his finger.

Every hair on her
body rose at the sweetness in his voice. John cast a slow, burning gaze over
her face that dismantled her brain, rendering her speechless. The erotic scent
of him drew her closer.

“I couldn’t call you
because I was busy going outta my mind.” Both his hands cradled her jaw,
caressing her cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. “Because there was no way in
hell I was going to tell you how much I love you over a call or text.”

Her unrest diminished
as he said the words she longed to hear. Every last morsel of space between
them evaporated. “You do?”

John nodded,
nuzzling into her temple, inhaling the scent of her neck. His lips wandered
over her cheeks and neck, working her into a rush of desire. “I love you,
Shay.”

“I love you too.”

Her arms circled
around his neck, pulling his lips to hers. She felt the invisible threads
biding them as one, each possessing kiss, claiming them as each others.

Cheers and applause
broke out around them. She pulled away from him, but only to smile staring into
his handsome face. Her eyes dashed from side to side, watching on-goers from
ages ten to sixty pulled out their cell phones to take pictures of their
affectionate embrace.

Boasting crimson
cheeks, they wrapped their arms around each others waists and continued toward
the elevators. She stopped and tugged on his fingers so he would face her.
Shayla drank in the gorgeous sight of him. Dark, bruising shadows dusted
beneath his eyes, but the breathtaking gleam of emerald made her tingle from
head to toe.

A quick breath
hissed from her lungs as she brought her palm to his cheek. Her fingers played
across his stubble. Yearning to feel the rasp on her skin, she let her eyes drift
and lashes lower with absolute slowness. “You haven’t shaved. I love it.”

 
“I love you, Shay. I’m sorry I didn’t
call. I almost flew to California. Hell, I probably could’ve ridden my bike
there.” His avid eyes tracked the movement of her tongue as she wet her lower
lip and drew it between her teeth. “I didn’t want to be a charity case, or have
you choose me because I made you feel guilty. I just…I needed to know you fell
as hard for me as I did you.”

Shayla’s hands slid
inside his open jacket around his waist. She slumped against his solid frame,
emotionally drained and completely spent. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Oh, believe me, we
are going to kiss like this every time we’re in an airport. The applause was
great. It’s gonna be our
thing
.” His
arm curled behind the small of her back. Her arms locked between them and he
bent over, ravishing her neck. “Next time I’m gonna bend you over—“he
growled into the scoop of her neck “—and dip you.”

Her fists clenched
the corners of his open collar and tugged as she kissed his chin. “You know damn
well what I mean. Don’t ever
not
call
me. If you go off by yourself—”

“I won’t be by
myself, Shay. I don’t ever want to be without you again. Not for one night.”

Without an ounce of
hesitation, she agreed. “I don’t want to be without you either.”

“So that means we’ve
got some figuring to do over Christmas.”

****

Shayla had never
been a big fan of the holiday season, often comparing it to a root canal: a
painful numbing experience that thankfully only lasted a short amount of time, yet
cost a small fortune to endure. She had never
enjoyed
Christmas. She suffered through each one with her deranged
parents, creating some of her worst childhood memories.

Making their way up
the drive, Shayla let out a sound of awe as she caught a glimpse of the cabin tucked
into the tree line. Situated just over a small crest from a ski run, the log
structure looked more like an intimate resort than a cabin. “Wow.”

“Tommy said you’ve
never been here.” He gave her a sideways glance and wriggled his brow.
“Everyone is on the slopes, so we have the place to ourselves for a few more
hours.”

Shayla pretended to
open her car door before it had come to a stop, drawing a deep sexy chuckle
from John. They unloaded her things, bypassing the luxurious living area and
dining room.

A gorgeous thirty-foot
tall rock fireplace passed by in a blur.

He made a pit stop
in the kitchen, grabbing a couple of waters from the fridge. John abruptly
snatched her around the hips and Shayla let out a tiny squeak as her legs
automatically wrapped around his hips.

“Thirsty?” she
teased sardonically.

“These are for you,
baby.” John started down the hall with two waters in one hand and her suitcase
in the other.

She clung to him
like a koala bear. Her hand slipped inside the neck of his shirt indulging in
the feel of his muscular back. “You’re gonna need them cause I’m taking you to
bed and making love to you till we’re both delirious. Fuck, I’ve never missed anyone
so desperately in all my life!”

She unabashedly sunk
lower, wriggling to feel his arousal, kissing and nibbling the smooth texture
at his neck and collar. She pulled in a deep breath, tasting his flavor on her
tongue.

He stopped outside a
bedroom door and lowered her feet to the floor. “Seriously, Shay. I know we’ve
only spent a long weekend together.”

“The most amazing
weekend imaginable,” she corrected, tugging on his belt loop.

John nodded. “That
was just the beginning. I meant what I said. I don’t ever want to be without
you again. I know it sounds crazy, but I was miserable without you. I felt sick,
and I was just empty inside.”

Tears welled in her
eyes. “I know this sounds cliché, but I feel…whole with you. Complete.”

He kissed her long
and hard until they were both deprived of oxygen.

She wiped her mouth
with the back of her hand, blushing as she glanced at the door.

“I just assumed or
hoped you would be sharing my room. My mom and Tom had a few things already set
up in another room for you, but I took the liberty of moving them.” He nipped
her neckline before opening the door.

“You just took it
upon yourself to make decisions for me.” A crooked grin played across her face,
the sensation of his lips already turning her breathless.

“Would you feel
better if I stayed in your room? Mine is at the end of the hall…all by itself.”
As the last three words rolled sensually off his tongue, John’s hand slid down
her lower back, curling beneath her cheeks, sending her into near convulsions.

Her eyes rolled back.
She didn’t have a chance in hell of keeping a straight face. “No. This is
perfect.”

“That’s what I
thought.”

A king size log bed,
dressed in sumptuous white linens, captured her attention. The exterior walls
were made of rough, hand-hewn eighteen-inch logs, but a faint sunny yellow
washed the smooth textured interior walls. A large arrangement of flowers sitting
on a dark table drew her eye. Shayla laughed out loud, sauntering over to
inspect the hodgepodge of flowers with half of the buds intentionally pinched
off. Her smile broadened as she plucked off another bud, inhaling the sweetness.

“I totally forgot
this year.”

His heated grin grew
as he watched her reaction. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me the joke. The only thing I
could get out of him was that it was a family tradition.”

“The first couple of
Christmases Tommy and I had together were hard.” Shayla raised the flower to
his nose, spinning it between her fingers. “Growing up, my dad sabotaged
every
holiday, and Christmas was the absolute
worst. God forbid if anyone wanted to be happy. And if he was expected to buy a
present, it was guaranteed to be smashed to pieces by the end of the day.”

Her thoughts pulled
her back to a faded, but not forgotten memory. John listened attentively as she
shared her story. He took the flower, etching it along her chin and tracing the
shell of her ear.

“I learned to hide
in my room a lot. Anyways, when I moved to California, Tommy didn’t really like
Christmas either. It was the only day I ever saw him dwell on the fact that he
had never married and had a family. He never admitted this, but I always
thought Christmas was like a day of mourning for him. I knew he needed his
space, so I started having Christmas with my friend Carrie Ann. Tom opted for
solitude, making the excuse of researching new films.”

“He seems ecstatic
this year.” John began to unbutton her shirt.

“Must be the love
going around.” She simmered, holding onto his waist, rolling her thumbs over
his tightly packed abs.

“So how do the
flowers come into play?”

 
“Eventually, we joked about it and then
it became somewhat of a spoof. I sent him an empty bottle of wine and a container
of half eaten cookies wishing him a very Merry Christmas. He volleyed by
sending me one new boot, the matching footwear arrived the following day. One
year I bought him a great tie, but drizzled ketchup all over it before sticking
it in the mail. But my favorite Christmas ever was when he sent me bouquet
after bouquet of flowers. The delivery man kept coming back all day until my
new house was filled with every species of flower imaginable.”

Corralling her
against edge of the bed, John let the back of his fingers brush against her
abdomen as he unzipped her jeans. The curve of his mouth had nothing to do with
humor. He stripped her of her boots, tossing them over his shoulder one at a
time before undressing and tackling her on the bed.