“Are you safe?” he asked in a whisper into my hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m still so sorry about everything that happened to your family. I’m so damn sorry.”
A tear had the audacity to slide down my cheek and fall onto his shoulder. It was a Pavlovian reaction. Too many tears had fallen on that shoulder. “Is anyone threatening you? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said quietly, with a nod, wishing his arms didn’t feel so good, so true. “I am. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”
He pulled back, tucked a hand under my chin, and lifted my face. I was so close to him I could trace the outline of his jaw, could run the pad of my finger over his stubble, his unbearably sexy eight-o’clock shadow.
“Are you sure?” he asked, so much tenderness and worry in his tone.
How was he the man who’d cheated? Right now, he was stitched with genuine concern.
And I was so damn confused. He made all the sense in the world to me, and he made zero sense at the same time.
I gathered myself, and willed that obstinate organ in my chest to stop beating at double time. I ordered my traitorous body to cease trembling just from being near him. “Yes. I’m sure.”
He let go and tipped his forehead back to the bar. “I should get out there. They’ll start wondering. See you in a few.”
And he walked away.
He was always good at walking away.
My head hurt, and I couldn’t grasp the situation at all.
I pushed open the ladies’ room door, walked to the sink, dropped my hands onto the cool tile, and let out the longest, hardest breath. I hoped to hell this was the only time I’d have to deal with Brent Nichols.
When I was near him like that, I couldn’t think straight. I could only feel. And I felt too many emotions. Too many emotions that were far too dangerous for my heart.
There were no two ways about it—I had to leave, and I had to leave right then.
4
Brent
I couldn’t let her leave.
Now that she’d reappeared in my life and we were within the same fifty-foot radius, I had to secure time alone with her. Without James. Without Colin.
A few moments outside the restroom weren’t enough.
There was too much to say. Too much that had gone unsaid for far too long.
And seeing her reminded me how stupid I’d been, how foolish I’d been to let her go without a fight.
That was the biggest regret of my life.
I’d chosen badly at the end.
I’d accepted her choice. I’d figured I deserved it, too, after all the trips I’d had to cancel. So I took her decision—an understandable one given what had gone down—and said fine.
Now, I could say all the things I didn’t know how to say then.
But I’d need to get her alone to do that.
On my return from the hallway encounter with Shannon, I pressed my fingertips to my temple, weighing my options.
Then I spotted a shimmer of silver on the floor under the table. A long shot, but it was my best opportunity, so I grabbed the edge of the fabric as James and Colin focused on business matters.
An hour later, the four of us held glasses and raised them high. The deal was done—all that was left was the signing.
“We’ll draw up the papers this week, and get this show on the road,” James said, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, and Shay, can I get your number too?”
I reined in a grin. He didn’t even know he’d just become my wingman and secured the ten digits I had most wanted in the world. As Shannon rattled off her number, James tapped it into his phone, and I repeated it in my head. James looked at his watch. “And on that note, I have a wife waiting for me and a two-year-old who likes for his daddy to say good night to him. And I believe our friend Colin has a date.”
I clapped my business partner on the back. “Get the hell out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to catch up with Miles over at the bar,” I said, gesturing to the baby-faced bartender I knew. “And Colin, I hope the rest of your night goes well too.”
“Thank you,” Colin said as he stood. Shannon did the same.
“It was great chatting with you. I look forward to the partnership with Shay Productions,” I said, extending final handshakes to them both.
“As do I,” she said, flashing that same professional smile she’d given me earlier.
As she reached for her purse, my shoulders tensed. I hoped she wouldn’t realize what she was missing. But she hadn’t noticed all through the meeting, so perhaps she wouldn’t notice now.
The three of them left.
Shannon weaved her way through the tables to the exit. The black dress she wore looked as if it had been painted onto her luscious body. Those red shoes, with the crazy crisscross straps, were a beacon, guiding me to where I wanted to be—home.
With her.
Neither my body nor my heart had forgotten Shannon Paige-Prince.
Not one bit.
She turned the corner to the elevator banks, out of sight now. I leaned back in my chair, trying to catch one final look at her. No such luck.
I hated that I had to let her walk away, but if I was going to talk to her again—the way I wanted to—I had to play it smart. After three minutes, I figured she was down the elevator and walking across the lobby, but not yet gone. I texted her.
You left your scarf. Want me to bring it by your office tomorrow, or do you want me to bring it down to you now?
I waited.
She might not respond. She might text me immediately or in the morning. She might simply send a messenger service to pick it up.
My phone buzzed, and I slid open the message. All it said was Hold onto it for me.
I stared at the screen for several seconds. What the hell was that? That answer was not in the multiple-choice rubric. I squinted and reread it, as if that would translate her words into a clue as to what might happen next.
Ah, hell. Maybe tonight wasn’t the best time to talk to her.
I stood, pushed away from the table, and grabbed the scarf that had been under my leg. If she wanted me to hold onto it, that was what I’d do. I’d figure out how to meet her alone and talk to her without her brothers around. Hell, I could probably benefit from some time to plan what I wanted to say. She was the last person I’d expected to see tonight, so I hadn’t scripted my lines. How did you apologize for the kind of idiocy you’d perpetrated when you were twenty-two? I’d been young and selfish—I’d wanted everything that was in front of me. Hey, Shan. Sorry I didn’t hop a plane to London, find you, and tell you I was never going to let you go.
I went to the bar to close out my tab with Miles and plot my next steps. I should sit down with my good friend Mindy and ask for her advice. Mindy was as solid and straightforward as they came, but she was diplomatic too. She’d guide me through this unexpected reunion.
But when I tucked my credit card into my wallet and turned around, I came face-to-face with my own lack of planning.
Shannon held out her hand. “My wrap, please,” she said, her tone even, her face unreadable. “It’s my favorite.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.” I clutched the fabric, as if that would tether her to me for longer. It felt like a lifeline as my heart sped up just from being so close to her. The bar was filled with patrons, the tables packed, the stools taken.