She must think I’m a horse’s ass! Arms crossed over his bare chest as he raised his upper body off the floor for another crunch, Dean scowled. An image of the curvy redhead next door rose in his mind. He pictured her standing before him, delicate little hands braced on those scrumptious hips, a perfectly shaped brow lifted in mockery. Avoid intimacy much?
Dean closed his eyes and replayed the memory reel that had been on a loop since Shannon had left the other day. They’d been talking about not having the kids around. Naturally, his mind went … there. Who wouldn’t want to take advantage of a little alone time with such a sexy woman? He’d almost kissed her! What had he been thinking? This self-imposed isolation was wreaking havoc on his control. And then slipping up by talking about his past?
He could have come clean. It would have been a hell of a lot easier than keeping his former identity secret. Dean was so tempted to trust that Shannon was not like all the others. But trust was earned, and he hadn’t known Shannon long enough to build that platform.
Dean pumped out another set of sit-ups, then bounced up on the balls of his bare feet. He padded across the plush carpet and snagged his water bottle off the bedside table. Taking a few quenching gulps of liquid, he pushed open the slider and stepped out onto the balcony.
The balcony off the master suite of Dean’s house (he refused to call it a mansion) was what had sold him on the place. The Atlantic Ocean, in all her glory, spread out before him. From here he could watch the whipped up froth of a nasty storm or the placid calm of a warm summer day. The salty tang in the air soothed his senses, reminded him of his place in Malibu. He closed his eyes and listened to the surf, imagining he was back home.
He settled into a wrought iron chair, put his water bottle on the mosaic-tiled bistro table, and reached for the guitar that was always close by. His fingers picked out chords on their own, his voice rumbling out words to a song he’d sung a thousand times, if not more. Did he miss his old life? Yeah, but not in the way he thought he would. Dean tapped his foot and bobbed his head in time to the song, staring absently at the unbroken surface of the water.
Shrieks of laughter reached his ears from a point just below him and to the left. Shannon’s kids were playing in his yard again. He’d had to give up the ogre persona. They just weren’t buying it. He grinned, thinking of the three little rapscallions from next door. They were exactly what he deserved for thinking he could just escape from the world and no one would notice.
Except it wasn’t the kids who seemed to take the most notice. It was their mother. Shannon was so far removed from the type of women that ran in his social circle back home that he just didn’t know what to think of her. Is she for real? Had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. She didn’t seem to want anything from him. She thought she was helping him.
Okay, she was helping him. Dean didn’t know a spatula from a saucepan and Shannon had nailed it when she suggested knowing a few cooking skills would increase his food choices. It had been second nature to pick up the phone, back in Malibu, for whatever tempted his palate. In Scallop Shores, however, the only thing he could get delivered was his mail. Learning to become more self-sufficient was definitely something Dean would benefit from. Getting to spend more time with his fiery neighbor wasn’t too bad either.
Dean set the guitar down and stretched his long legs out on the chair opposite him. Reaching for his water bottle, he took a few pulls and wiped his mouth on his bare arm. He held the perspiring plastic bottle to his forehead and sighed as the coolness penetrated his heated skin. Eyes closed, he inhaled the clean scents around him. He picked out the beach roses that grew along the rocks. The tall pines were a sharp contrast. Then, ah, there it was. Shannon was putting her wet laundry out on the line. If he listened carefully, Dean could hear the snap of wet sheets and pillowcases.
He grinned. This woman had enough on her plate, raising three active five-year-olds. To bypass the convenience of a dryer spoke volumes about her character. Shannon was not afraid of hard work. In fact, Dean noticed she seemed to go out of her way to find the harder, more time-consuming way of doing something. Did the woman ever take a break? Did she have anyone who would help her out the way she had come to him?
Dean’s cell phone suddenly chimed to life in the bedroom. He ran in and grabbed it off the bedside table, thumbing the answer button before bringing it to his ear.
“Dean, Marty Kincaid here. I’m just making sure you got that paperwork I sent over last week.” The paternity suit paperwork that wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on? Yeah, got it.
“I got the paperwork, Marty. It’s a complete waste of both our time. You know that.”
“So you want to settle this one? She’s asking for a one-time payment of 2.4 million.”
“2.4? Not two million or two and a half million? 2.4?” Dean snorted. “She’s been watching too many lawyer shows on TV.”
“How do you want to handle this one, Dean? Are we settling?”
Something in him snapped. This wasn’t happening again. He refused to let this happen to him again. Nostrils flaring, fist clenching and unclenching, Dean gritted his teeth to keep from yelling at the lawyer who was really on his side.
“I’m not settling this one, Marty. I’m not the father. I know it. She knows it. She can rot in hell before she takes a free ride at my expense.”
“But you usually just settle to avoid the drama. What if this draws you back into the spotlight?”
“Get a DNA test. Nail her to the wall with the results. That witch is not getting her hands on my money.” Dean’s mood was reflected in the white caps that had appeared on the ocean’s surface. He glared at the horizon and the water got choppier still.
“I’m on it, buddy. We’ll set an example by Ms. Cresswell. Maybe this will be the last woman who cries Daddy.”
“She can be the last or not. I’m not letting myself be used as a convenient ATM ever again!” Dean disconnected the call and threw the phone on the bed.
The wind carried in the sound of the triplets giggling as they played. Dean was no longer in the mood to be charmed. Slamming the slider closed, he stalked from his bedroom. Pity party for one, now commencing.
• • •
“So, Brenna tells me your new neighbor is handsomer than her Ken doll. I’d say that’s pretty high praise, coming from a five-year-old.”
Shannon let out a belly laugh and clamped a hand over her mouth before she could wake the children sleeping down the hall. She snuggled into a corner of the couch, tucking her feet under a soft, yellow throw pillow. The laptop was perched on her knees and her mother smiled at her from 3,000 miles away.
“Yeah, Dean certainly has the ‘Ken doll’ look down. I can’t wait until it gets a little warmer and we get to see him without his shirt on.” She gasped in shock. “Oh God, I can’t believe I just said that.” Shannon darted her gaze away from the computer screen while a warm blush suffused her face and neck.
“Nothing wrong with that! Child, you closed yourself off to the opposite sex the second the door shut behind Vincent. You aren’t a nun, Shannon. Women have needs too.”
Fantastic. Modern technology has brought us Skype, so that we may now have intimately embarrassing conversations with our mothers on the other side of the country, face to face. Shannon frowned back at her mother. The amused grin on the older woman’s face showed clearly that she didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Look who’s talking? Dad left when I was three. You never so much as looked at a man while I was growing up. You were always working.”
“Not always. Like I said, women have needs too.” Shannon’s mom, Catherine, arched one perfectly waxed brow.
“Ew! Ew! So not going there!” Shannon waved her hands in front of her face, willing herself not to think of her mother sneaking out for late night bootie calls. She shuddered.
“Okay, I’m done lecturing. But it’s clear you’re interested in this guy. It would just be a shame if you wasted an opportunity because of your … okay, our pasts.” Catherine leaned in close and her face filled up most of the screen. “So tell me about Dean. The kids think he’s the second coming.”
“He’s so nice, Mom. And he’s great with the triplets. He can’t tell Brady from Brian. I think he’s too embarrassed to say anything though. I can tell Brenna is developing her first crush. She’s already asked if she can have him over for a tea party … and the rest of us are not invited.”
Shannon reached out for her tea, cooling on the side table. She snagged a mini chocolate chip cookie from the small stack she’d allowed herself. Smiling at the computer screen, she nodded when Catherine lifted her own mug of tea and nibbled at a cookie that looked like it had come straight out of the same package Shannon’s had.
They called this their weekly tea time. Catherine had Tuesday nights free. She would Skype with her grandchildren earlier in the evening, allowing Shannon time to clean up a little while her kids were busy talking. Then after Shannon put the triplets to bed, they reconnected for some mother/daughter time. Catherine kept Shannon supplied with various herbal teas that her friend Trudy sold in her shop in Carmel. Shannon, in turn, would send her mother packages of cookies that she’d loved while living in Maine but couldn’t find in California.
“The poor guy.” Shannon swallowed a bite of cookie and chased it with a quick sip of tea. “He’s got agoraphobia.” She shook her head sadly. “At least I think that’s what’s going on. He hides in his house every day, hardly ever comes out. When he’s out in public, he’s always looking over his shoulder. He just looks spooked, Mom.”
Even alone in his house he didn’t act 100% comfortable. He’d sure seemed out of sorts when she was there without the kids. Shannon had half expected him to climb all the way into the cupboards and pull the doors closed behind him. Maybe it was just her he was avoiding. Wow, that thought sucked.
“And if I know my girl, you have been trying to draw him out. You think he’d have a more full and satisfying life if he got out and lived a little. How am I doing?” Catherine snapped a cookie in half and popped one piece in her mouth.
“Yeah, only I’ve just been thinking that I’m probably pushing too hard. Maybe I’m the reason he seems so uncomfortable.”
“Or maybe he’s dealing with his own man/woman issues and doesn’t know how to tell you he’s attracted to you?”
“Geez, Mom, when did you get so romantic? It’s like you’re seeing couples everywhere.”
“Funny you should say that.”
Shannon’s heart thumped double time and she had the crazy urge to slam the laptop shut, running from the room with her hands over her ears yelling “lalalala.” Schooling her features so she didn’t look as freaked out as she felt, Shannon took a deep breath.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“I’m bringing someone with me when I visit next month. Someone special.” Now it was Catherine’s turn to blush; the gentle pink made her eyes sparkle brighter. She looked ten years younger.
“I don’t know if there’s room. Ms. Sheffield will be here with a houseful of guests.” Shannon bit her lip, hoping her excuse was enough for her mother to abandon the idea of bringing her man friend.
“Oh, don’t worry about putting us up, dear. We’re planning on staying at the Rose Arbor, that old bed and breakfast on Route 1.”
“But you always stay with us!” Shannon’s tone was wheedling, but she didn’t care. “What will I tell the kids?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Shannon, I’ll be ten minutes down the road. It won’t change our visit in the least,” Catherine tsked.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” Shannon held on to a brittle smile for all she was worth. “Of course we’ll have a great time. The kids can’t wait to see you again.”
By silent agreement, the women moved on to safer topics: Catherine’s job at the art gallery, the beautiful weather in Carmel, the pesto pizza Shannon made for dinner that night. They finished their tea and cookies. Catherine shook her nearly-empty box and remarked that she’d have to make room in her luggage for as many boxes as she could fit. Gently, she touched the screen, as though she could feel her daughter’s soft cheek beneath her fingertips.
“It’s getting late for you, sweetheart. I’m going to sign off and let you get some rest.”
“I love you, Mom. Talk to you next week.” They waved and blew kisses as they reached out to shut down their Skype sessions.
Shannon sighed as she carried the laptop to the dining room table. She returned for her tea mug, breathing deeply of the lingering scents of chamomile and spearmint. Dropping the mug and the plate of cookie crumbs in the sink, Shannon brushed off her hands on a dishtowel.
Her fingers itched to go back and wash and dry those two items sitting in the sink. Shaking her head, she snapped off the overhead light and darted out of the kitchen before she could go back and work … again. “You’re off duty,” she reminded herself.
Tip-toeing down the hall, though her triplets probably could have slept through an earthquake, Shannon peeked into Brenna’s room. The little girl had kicked off her covers and was currently facing the footboard. Shannon tucked the comforter around her, making sure Gabriella Tink, Brenna’s current favorite teddy bear, was within reach.
In Brian and Brady’s room, Shannon had to navigate her way through a minefield of tiny cars and trucks in order to reach the beds. She gathered a stack of picture books from Brady’s bed and returned them to the basket on the floor. She kissed his temple, smoothing a lock of hair down that would surely spring back to life by morning. Brian lay on his tummy, his little behind sticking up in the air, just like he’d slept since he was a baby. Shannon dropped a kiss on his velvety cheek as she pulled the blankets up for him. With a last, lingering look, Shannon left the boys’ bedroom. Oh, these kids were her life. She would do anything in the world for them.
Slipping into a comfy pair of pink fleece pajamas, Shannon slid between the cool sheets of her big bed. Her oversized bed. She stretched out, spread eagle, and still didn’t come near the edges of the bed. She rolled over and snuggled into the pillows. Who would have thought her mother would be the one to suggest she tend to her “woman’s needs”? Ugh. Now the idea had been planted, Shannon couldn’t stop squirming.
She pictured the mattress sinking as a warm body climbed in and spooned her from behind. No surprise whom that warm body belonged to. She could almost hear Dean’s deep voice rumbling in her ear. She flopped over, the emptiness of the other side of the bed making it appear twice as big. Shutting her eyes against the depressing sight, Shannon ignored the single tear that managed to sneak past her defenses and slide down her cheek.