I closed the door, locked it, then let shame wash over my body.
Shaw had kissed me.
And I’d kissed him back.
I’d kissed a man while dating another.
Shit. I was low. I wasn’t this woman. I didn’t string men along. Hell, before Jeremiah, there hadn’t been any men to string along.
Before Jeremiah, there’d been boys in high school who’d sneak a kiss in an empty hallway. They’d been appealing only because they’d been forbidden. Those boys had been a way to give my father a rebellious fuck you.
When I’d moved to Clifton Forge, I’d been too busy growing up to think of dating. Besides that, no one had asked. The eligible men in town saw me surrounded by Tin Gypsies and stayed far away.
Then came Jeremiah. Then Shaw.
My hand came to my swollen lips and I wiped them again. Shaw’s taste was still in my mouth, and his scent clung to the air.
I’d let him sweep his tongue against mine and devour my lips until I’d realized exactly what I was doing, how I was betraying Luke. I’d pulled away and shoved him out the door.
What was I doing? This wasn’t me.
My stomach churned. Luke Rosen was a good man. He deserved better. He deserved a woman who wasn’t kissing other men.
A woman whose heart wasn’t torn.
Kissing Shaw hadn’t felt wrong, not in the moment. Feeling his lips on mine was like coming home after a long day. It was like finding the sanctuary, the solace I’d been missing for months. The boat of my life stopped rocking. The waters of my soul calmed.
My foolish, reckless heart was his.
There was no Luke and me. Me and Luke.
When I looked into the future, I saw a man with dark blond hair and a smile that millions of women coveted but was only for me.
Poor Luke had never stood a chance. Even if Shaw hadn’t returned to Clifton Forge, eventually I would have cut Luke loose. I simply wasn’t . . . available.
But Shaw had returned. Things would be entirely different this time around. I couldn’t hide him from the people in my life. The world would know that Shaw Valance was sleeping in my bed.
“Ugh.” I dropped my forehead to the door.
Was I doing this? Shaw had the power to destroy me. If he left me behind again, I’d be shattered beyond repair.
Or . . .
He’d hold my heart and treat it with tender care.
He’d love me.
But before I could think about Shaw, about taking that risk, I had to end it with Luke.
I pushed away from the door and walked into the living room, grabbing my phone.
“Hey,” Luke answered. “I was just thinking about you.”
Oh, his voice. Not as smooth as Shaw’s but it was still sexy. I sank down to the edge of my chair, my shoulders slumping. “Are you still coming over later?”
“I’d like to see you. But if you need more time with your sister, I understand.”
I looked down the hallway to the door that was still closed. “No, I’d like to see you too.”
“Yeah?” Luke sounded so hopeful. I bet he was smiling.
This was going to suck. “Yeah.”
“Give me an hour.”
“Okay.” An hour would have to be enough time to figure out what to say.
I hung up and tossed the phone aside, pinching the bridge of my nose.
My emotions were all over the place. I hadn’t planned on unloading my childhood on Shaw, but with Scarlett here, the floodgates had opened and the horror I hadn’t wanted to relive for years had come rushing out.
I hadn’t even hesitated. Confiding in Shaw was so natural. So easy. Why was that? I’d kept my past locked up tight. The only person who’d been able to finagle it out of me had been Draven, and even then, there were things I hadn’t told him.
I hadn’t told him about the red nail polish incident because Draven would have jumped on his bike, ridden to Chicago and slit my father’s throat. It had been hard enough admitting my father had beaten me. I’d cried. Draven had cussed. And when the lid on his temper had blown, I’d clutched his arm and made him promise not to retaliate.
I’d assumed Scarlett was still there and I hadn’t wanted to make things worse. And I hadn’t wanted my past mixing with my present. The Presley with long hair and a dutiful smile was dead. The Presley who lived by her own design had been thriving.
I didn’t want my parents tainting the beauty I’d made for myself.
Shaw had been as angry as Draven. Shaw’s fury had pulsed off him in waves, but much like Draven, he’d locked it down. He’d listened and when I’d broken, he’d held me like I was precious.
If I hadn’t already fallen for Shaw, today would have been the tipping point.
He’d told me he loved me. He’d been so sure I loved him too.
Was I in love? Being around Shaw was comforting. It was exhilarating. But there was something else—a feeling I couldn’t name.
Those were worries for another time because I had a guest coming over. I stood up and straightened the living room. I lit a candle on the coffee table because I didn’t want Luke to walk in and smell Shaw’s cologne.
Then I waited. My stomach knotted and I couldn’t seem to take a deep breath. My palms were sweating by the time Luke arrived, true to his word, exactly an hour after our phone conversation.
“Hey.” He smiled and kissed me on the cheek when I greeted him at the door.
“Hi.” I took his jacket and hung it in the small coat closet. “Come on in.”
Luke followed me into the living room and looked around. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” And thank God that elderly woman had crashed into the gym.
It wouldn’t have been right, sleeping with Luke. No matter how many times I’d mentally paired us together, there was a gap.
That gap’s name was Shaw Valance.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m good.” He walked into the living room and took a seat on the love seat. He sat right in the middle, leaving no room for me to sit beside him, then leaned his elbows on his knees. “How is your sister?”
“Fine.” I took the chair across from the love seat. “She’s sleeping at the moment.”
“Anything I can do?”
“No.” I gave him a small smile, then mustered my courage to break this off. “So, um—”
He held up a hand. “Presley, it’s okay. I know why I’m here.”
“You do?”
“Shaw Valance is back.”
“How did you know? Did he call you?” Because that was going to piss me off. Shaw had no right to interfere.
Luke shook his head. “There’s not a lot that happens here that the chief of police doesn’t know about. Especially when a famous actor moves next door to my girlfriend’s house.”
Girlfriend. He thought of me as his girlfriend.
Oh, hell. This was not getting easier, but I took a deep breath and gave Luke the only thing I had left—honesty. “We were together when he lived here before. It ended when he left.”
“But now he’s back,” Luke said. “I get it. If I had to choose me over Shaw, I might not choose me either. He’s surprisingly difficult to dislike.”
Ugh. He was being so nice about this. Couldn’t he get mad, call me horrible names and storm out the door? “I’m so sorry, Luke.”
He hung his head for a moment, then lifted it to give me a sad smile. “So am I.”
Silence settled over the room, aside from the candlewick crackling on the table between us.
Luke stood. “Take care, Presley.”
“You too.” I followed him to the front door and retrieved his coat.
He shrugged it on, then bent to brush another kiss on my cheek. There were no tingles. There were no sparks or butterflies.
I’d been searching for something with Luke that had never been there.
“Give me a few weeks, then tell Shaw he owes me a beer for stealing my girl.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Luke opened the door and walked outside, lifting his hand to wave before he jogged down the steps. I stood in the cold, watching as he got into his truck and reversed into the street. Then I closed the door, turned and gasped.
Scarlett was standing in the hall.
“He’s cute.”
My hand flew to my racing heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” She shrugged and walked into the living room, curling up on the couch. Her eyes drooped and she yawned, shoving a lock of her stringy hair from her face. “What day is it?”
“Tuesday,” I said, sitting beside her.
“Huh. Guess I was tired.”
We stared at each other wordlessly.
Looking at her used to be like looking in the mirror. We’d had the same hair, the same clothes. Did I seem as foreign to her as she did to me? Maybe after a shower, she wouldn’t look so much like a ghost.
“Do you want a shower?” I asked.
Scarlett dropped her gaze to her hands. “Sure. Can I borrow some clothes?”
“I’ll put some on your bed. There are towels and an extra toothbrush in your bathroom.”
“Thanks.” Her fingers toyed on her lap, picking at something black, probably mascara, caked beneath a nail. Then her hands stilled, and she looked up. “Did you love him?”
“Luke? No. We only dated for a month.”
“No, not Luke.” She gave me a flat look. “Jeremiah. Did you love him?”
“Oh.” My cheeks flamed.
Why couldn’t we have talked about anything else first? Like why she was here. Or how she’d left Chicago. Or what she’d been doing with her life. Why did we have to jump right into the Jeremiah subject?
“Yes,” I admitted. “At least, I thought I loved him at the time.”
“And now?”
“Maybe I don’t know what love is.”
“I do.” Scarlett shifted her gaze to the burning candle. “Because Jeremiah taught me.”
And there, in her soft voice, was her broken heart.
I’d betrayed my twin sister. “I’m sorry.”
For Jeremiah.
For leaving her.
For the years that had gone.
“Whatever.” Scarlett stared at the candle without blinking. Without speaking. She was quiet for so long that I gave up and turned to the candle too.
We’d been so close once. If there was love in my past, it was entwined with memories of Scarlett.
Had I ruined us the night I’d left? Was there any hope I’d get my sister back? Or would she hold Jeremiah against me forever?
“I missed you,” I whispered, not brave enough to look away from the candle.
Scarlett stood from the couch and exited the room. But before she disappeared into the bathroom, she paused at the mouth of the hall. “I missed you too.”
I held my smile until I heard the shower turn on, then hope bloomed.
This reunion wasn’t what I’d planned. A reunion wasn’t something I’d ever planned.
At eighteen, I’d had illusions of the two of us laughing and singing to the radio as we drove away from Chicago. I’d pictured us living our lives separately, but connected—mine in Montana, hers in California. We’d call each other often. We’d vacation on the beach and spend Christmases together.
None of that had come true.
But maybe it would, a decade later.
I went to my bedroom and took out a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt for Scarlett. I also grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a sports bra. I set them on her bed, glancing around the guest bedroom at the bag she’d brought with her.
It was a black backpack, sagging in a corner like it was mostly empty. Where had she been? Where was she living? She’d arrived in a cab. Had she flown here from somewhere? Or taken a bus? Or hitchhiked?
Now that she was awake, we could talk. I went to the kitchen and made dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, but I was hungry and from the looks of it, Scarlett hadn’t eaten much lately. I went for simple grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
When she emerged from her bedroom, our meal was waiting at my round dining table beside the kitchen.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked.
“Water is fine.” She slid into a seat, her hair wet and hanging down her back. My clothes were not fitted, but they were baggier on her than they’d ever been on me.
“You can start without me.” I filled up two glasses of water in the kitchen, and when I returned to the table, half her sandwich was gone. I sat down, trying not to stare as she inhaled the rest of her food.
“Thanks for dinner.” She gulped from the water glass. “I was starving.”
“You slept for two days.”
“I was tired.” Scarlett yawned and stood. “I’m going to go back to bed.”
“Oh.” So much for talking. “I have to get back to work tomorrow. Are you staying or . . .”
“If that’s okay.”
“Yes, of course. Stay as long as you’d like.”
She picked up her dishes and took them to the kitchen.
I abandoned my meal to follow. “Do you need more clothes? Or anything? I can swing by the grocery store on the way home from work. Maybe we could talk tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow.”
I smiled. “Get some rest.”
“Night.”
I waited until her door was closed before returning to my plate, but my appetite was gone.
Was she hiding from me? Or was she really this tired? Was she sick?
I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated that I didn’t have answers, but Scarlett had always done things on her own timeline. She’d wait until the candles on our birthday cake were dripping before she’d blow them out. She’d take twice as long to jump in the pool. It was the reason she hadn’t left Chicago with me. She hadn’t been ready yet.
When she wanted to answer my questions, she would. Until then, I’d be patient.
I did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. I washed a load of laundry and set a stack of clothes outside Scarlett’s door. It was only seven o’clock by the time my chores were done, and I had no desire to watch TV or read.
The yellow house next door was calling my name.
I padded down the hallway toward my bedroom. Shaw’s window was dark but there was a glow from deeper in the house. Donning a warm sweater and a pair of wool socks, I tugged on my boots and slipped into the dark night.
The air was crisp, and my earlobes froze as I crunched across the snow-trodden path Shaw had created between our houses. My foot hit the bottom stair and his door swung open.
Shaw looked to my driveway. “Where’s Luke?”
“Gone.”
“When I saw his truck, I thought you and he were . . .” His face was washed in relief. “I about came out of my skin.”
“Oh, well, we were never together. Not intimately.”
He blinked and stepped onto the porch, his bare feet oblivious to the freezing temperature. “Say that again.”
“I ended it.”
He took another step. “You ended it.”
“Yeah.” I climbed the steps, making my way toward the warmth of his arms. “You better not break my heart.”
He stepped closer, placing his palm between my breasts. It flattened on my sternum and the heat from his touch seeped through my sweater. “It’s safe. I swear it.”
Safe.
That was the word I’d been looking for earlier.
It wasn’t as monumental as love, but for a woman who’d lived so much of her life in fear, safe seemed almost as important.
“Kiss me, Shaw.”
He framed my face. “Where?”
“Here.” I pointed to my lips. Everywhere.
“I don’t want this to be a secret anymore,” he said. “But if you take me, it means you get it all. The cameras. The tabloids. I want you, more than anything I’ve wanted in my life, but I don’t come easily.”
I arched an eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. “We’ll see about that.”
Gripping the hand he still had over my heart, I stepped past him and dragged him into the house.
His sexy chuckle drifted away as he kicked the door closed. Then his hands were all over me, and his mouth was on mine.
I didn’t care if Shaw came with fans. I didn’t care that he’d drag me into the spotlight. Because I’d rather be by his side than standing in the shadows alone.
With one fast grab, he swooped me into his arms, holding me against his chest as he walked us into the house. He turned to his bedroom, never once breaking away from my mouth.
My arms banded around his shoulders, pulling him close as I slanted to deepen our kiss. To savor the feel of his lips and the wet heat. We panted and licked and sucked, knowing there’d be no stopping.
We wouldn’t come up for air until we were both boneless.
I wouldn’t mind if that took days.
Shaw’s delicious scent filled my nose as we entered his room. The bed centered beneath the window was big and covered in a charcoal quilt. He spun us around, setting me on the edge as he dropped to his knees.
His hands roamed my legs as I whipped the sweater off my torso. My nipples were pebbled in my bra and my core throbbed as he stayed on his knees, removing my boots and socks.
When my feet were bare, Shaw picked one up and placed a soft, gentle kiss to my ankle.
A shiver ran down my spine. “What was that for?”
“I’ve never kissed you there before.”
“Oh.” I blushed furiously through a smile that pinched my cheeks.
Shaw laughed, the vibrations of his rich voice rolling over my skin and prickling the little hairs with electricity.
He stood and unzipped his jeans. He didn’t shove them off his hips but let them hang open, clinging to the V of his hip bones and teasing me with what was beneath. With one graceful move, he reached behind his neck and yanked his black cashmere sweater over his head.
My mouth watered at the sight of the bare chest and sinewed arms I’d dreamed about for months. My fingers itched to touch the sprinkling of hair that dusted his chest, to feel the hardness of his body beneath my palms.
“Where else haven’t I kissed you?” he asked.
I pointed to the inside of my arm, the hollow point opposite my elbow. “Here.”
He bent, bracing himself above me with one arm in the bed, then used his free hand to take my wrist. Shaw’s touch was featherlight. He skated those lips up the inside of my forearm, the pressure enough to leave a stream of tingles. When he reached the hollow point, his tongue darted out to drop one wet kiss.
The erotic sensation of his lips, the heat of his body hovering above mine but not touching, sent a pool of desire to my center.
“Where else?”
I pointed to the spot behind my ear. Maybe he’d kissed me there before, but I couldn’t remember past this lust-induced fog.
Shaw placed the kiss on the exact spot I’d pointed at. My eyes drifted closed as he dragged the stubble of his cheek across the line of my jaw.
“Here.” I touched the underside of my chin.
He dropped a kiss there, then another on my lips.
I reached between us, lifting the hem of my T-shirt. He took it from my hands, lifting it off. The jeans I’d worn rode low enough to show the waistband of my panties. I pointed to the red lace on my hip. “Here.”
Shaw dropped a trail of kisses from my chin, over the cotton of my bra to my hip. Once he’d kissed that spot, he nuzzled kisses across my stomach.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, then I pulled him up my body, sealing my mouth over his as my hands dove into his jeans.
The slow, tortured exploration was over. We flew into a frenzy, stripping one another of our remaining clothes. He moved us deeper into the bed, covering me with his weight as he stretched for the nightstand’s drawer.
He was going for a condom.
I froze.
“What?” He stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Were you . . .” Oh God, if he’d been with another woman—I was beginning to understand how hard it must have been for him to see me with Luke.
“No.” He kissed my lips. “There’s been no one.”
Relief crashed into me and nearly made me weep. I cupped his jaw. “Good. I might have had to kill you.”
He chuckled and kissed me again, then went back to the nightstand, but I stopped him once more.
“I’m on the pill. I got tested after the wedding.”
“I’m clean too.”
“Then stop making me wait.” I lifted up and slammed my mouth to his, diving in with my tongue as my hand reached for his shaft between us.
His hand wrapped over the top of mine as he dragged the tip through my wet folds. Then he took my wrist away at the same time he thrust forward.
I hissed, crying out as he filled and stretched me.
“Fuck.” Shaw buried his face in my neck and stilled, giving me a moment to adjust.
“Move,” I whispered into his ear.
He obeyed, rocking in and out with long, hard strokes that shook me from head to toe. The feel of him bare inside me was incredible. The stretch, the connection, was raw and profound and breathtaking.
We were beautiful together.
We moved in sync with every touch and kiss. We devoured one another until neither of us could hold back from the edge.
I cried out Shaw’s name as I came, blinding sparks overtaking my vision. Shaw moaned against my breast as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, pouring into me as I clenched around him.
“Damn, woman.” He breathed against my skin as he collapsed onto his back, pulling me to his side. “I missed you. So damn much.”
“I missed you too.” I hugged an arm over his stomach and kissed his pec.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.” I shifted up to look at his face, nervous at the seriousness of his tone.
He grinned and rubbed the crease between my eyebrows away. “Will you go out to dinner with me?”
“Like . . . on a date?” I scrunched up my nose, holding back a smile. “What’s in it for me?”
“Besides a meal?” Shaw’s eyes sparkled. “Me.”
“Hmm.” My smile stretched wide. “Yes. I’ll go on a date with you.”
His arms came around me in a flash, flipping us both until he’d pinned me to the bed. “Finally I didn’t get a goddamn no.”