Chapter 3
Shannon
“Hello,” came a voice, and my eyes flared wide as I stared at Margie.
Jace was here, and he was early. How on earth had he gotten into the house?
A moment later, he appeared, looking casually handsome and relaxed in a hoodie and jeans.
I was still wearing my housecoat and pyjamas, my hair up in a messy knot, though I wasn’t sure why I felt self-conscious.
This man had seen me in every possible state. He’d seen me giving birth.
“You’re early,” I said, flustered.
He slid out his phone to glance at the screen, one eyebrow arching.
“By three minutes. Sorry to intrude. Zara let me in.” His attention went to Margie, who was sitting at my kitchen table sipping on her coffee and staring at Jace like a supermodel had just walked into the room. I flared my eyes at her to act normal.
“You must be Margie. A pleasure to meet you,” he said and approached her, holding out his hand. She shook with him, looking pleased that he already knew her name.
“I see my reputation precedes me,” she replied happily, and Jace shot her a wink.
Ugh. I hated how he had the magical skill to charm everyone he met.
I was the opposite. You could call me the anti-charmer.
Most people who met me barely remembered my name, or they thought I was a bitch because I wasn’t over the top friendly.
It wasn’t something I could change about myself.
My upbringing had made being reserved second nature.
I didn’t have a very expressive face either, so I could come across a little cold and aloof when I met new people.
Luckily, Margie was warm and friendly enough to counteract my reserved nature, and although she was twelve years older than me, we’d become fast friends.
“Shannon said you were a blue-eyed beauty, and I have to agree with her.” Ha! I said nothing of the sort, but he wasn’t wrong about Margie. She did have lovely eyes.
“And Shannon was right when she said you were trouble,” Margie replied with a delighted titter. What a traitor. She was supposed to be my friend, but after a compliment paired with a charismatic smile from Jace, she was a simpering groupie. Typical.
I shook my head just as Margie stood, draining the last of her coffee.
“Well, the office calls. I better get going. See you on Friday for W&L night, Shannon. You’re hosting this month, right?
” Oh, hell, now she was leaving me alone with him.
I knew she had to go because otherwise she’d be late for her job.
She managed an internet security company with its head office in the city centre.
“Yes, see you Friday,” I replied tightly.
“It was nice to finally meet Zara’s dad,” she said to Jace, and he shot her a parting smile as she went.
I turned back around to face the counter.
The room was far too quiet with Margie gone, and I was far too alone with my ex.
I was also worried he’d overheard some of my conversation with Margie.
There was something probing about the way he’d looked at me.
I bristled at the thought of him hearing how I hadn’t been with anyone since him.
He’d probably been with dozens. I certainly knew there was no shortage of women prepared to share his bed.
When we were together, Jace was incredibly loving and loyal.
He never gave me cause to think he’d cheat, though I did struggle with jealousy since he was the lead singer of a rock band with lots of female fans.
But he was single now, free to be with whomever he wanted. I still didn’t like to think about it.
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I asked.
“I’d love one,” Jace replied, coming to stand next to me.
He leaned his hip against the counter and folded his arms. I focused on the coffee machine and tried not to fixate on how my pores tightened in awareness with him so close.
I could feel his eyes on my profile, practically boring into me.
Finally, he spoke. “So, what’s W&L night? ”
“It’s just a little thing I do with Margie, Ozzie, and Lotte,” I said. Despite having only met Margie for the first time today, Jace already knew my college pals Ozzie and Lotte. “It stands for Wine and Letters.”
“Oh?”
I shrugged. “We basically get together once a month to drink wine and read old historical letters to each other.”
Jace’s expression grew curious. “Why old letters?”
“It was always an interest of Ozzie’s. You know he’s a secondary school history teacher now? Well, he has a passion for finding old letters, and he got the rest of us into it, too. There are some really funny and interesting ones out there.”
He smiled softly. “That’s cute.” There was a short pause before he continued, “So, is there anything I should know about the school run? Any annoying parents to avoid?”
I bit my lip. There were a few nosy parents who’d probably try to quiz him about being back in Ireland and if he planned on staying.
“Laura Delamare might try to talk to you. She’s the head of the parents’ association and her daughter is in Zara’s class.
She’s super nosy, wants to be in everyone’s business.
You’ll recognise her because she has very bright red hair, and it’s always up in a high ponytail. ”
As I spoke, I noticed his eyes never strayed from my profile, and it made my throat a little dry. I just wanted to blurt out the question and ask if he’d heard Margie and me talking, but it was too embarrassing. Perhaps it was better not knowing.
Unable to take any more of his probing stares, I turned and began searching through my cupboard for one of my reusable travel mugs for Jace’s coffee.
They were all on the top shelf because I didn’t use them often, and when I reached up on my tiptoes, I felt heat behind me.
I hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten so close.
He reached above me, his chest softly brushing my shoulders as he murmured, “Let me get that for you.”
My breath hitched, warmth spreading across my back where we touched.
He grabbed the mug I’d been reaching for, then handed it to me.
“I could’ve easily gotten that myself,” I snapped, reprimand in my voice because he’d clearly used it as an opportunity to get close. He’d always enjoyed flustering me.
His eyes flashed, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. When he didn’t respond right away, but instead continued staring, I grew even more flustered. “What?”
Jace shrugged. “I forgot how enjoyable it is when you put me in my place.” He moved closer, his mouth a scant inch from my ear when he bent to murmur, “I like to be disciplined.”
Did he really just say that? It took me a moment or two to regulate my breathing.
It certainly wasn’t a good sign that his proximity could make me this hot and bothered.
His insinuation that I was some kind of dominatrix when we were together was ridiculous and far from the truth, though Jace had always gotten turned on when I was strict or uptight with him.
Then he’d go out of his way to loosen me up, and okay, I did not need to be thinking about that.
“I’m nearly ready, Dad!” Zara called from upstairs, and I was more than glad for the interruption.
When Jace noticed I was pouring his coffee into the reusable mug instead of a normal one, he smiled. “Trying to get rid of me?”
“No,” I replied, unable to disguise my agitation. “You’ll just need to leave now if you want to make it to the school on time. Traffic can be crazy at this hour.”
“Right,” he said, a note in his voice like he didn’t believe me. Well, it was true about the traffic, which wasn’t normally a problem for me since I walked Zara to school. But yes, it was also true that I wanted rid of him. The tension was unbearably thick between us, and I was eager to escape it.
I handed him the mug just as Zara appeared. “Here, just bring it back later.”
“Sure,” he replied, his fingers briefly brushing mine, sparking more heat, as he turned to Zara. “Well, look at you all cute and smart in your uniform,” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders and taking her bag to carry it for her. “Come on. Let’s get you to school, kiddo.”
As soon as he was gone, I felt like I could breathe again.
How was it that his presence managed to fill up every nook and cranny of my house?
Must’ve been his rockstar aura or something.
People who were used to arenas filled with thousands of adoring fans screaming their name developed a sort of charisma most of us would never achieve.
Trying to clear my thoughts of Jace, I picked up my phone and considered creating a profile on one of the dating apps Margie had recommended.
There was no time like the present, and I certainly needed something to distract me from my ex-husband’s sudden presence in my life.
I quickly put together a profile, attaching a nice picture Zara had taken of me a couple weeks ago at Ashtown Castle.
Setting down my phone, I decided I’d leave it a few hours before checking back to see if I’d gotten any interest. I went to shower, then set to work at my standing desk that I’d set up by the window in the kitchen.
It looked out into our small back garden.
I’d thought it would be good for my mental health to have some greenery to look at while I stared at a computer screen all day.
I was in the middle of testing a retail site we’d created for one of our clients that specialized in selling jars of manuka honey from New Zealand, and by a process of osmosis, I was now basically an expert in the stuff.
I could recite all the health benefits by heart.
That was one of the nice sides to my job, I got to learn about different things depending on the kind of site I was working on.
For lunch, I put together a tuna wrap and turned on the coffee machine before checking my phone.
My eyebrows shot up when I saw I’d gotten over ten matches since setting up my profile only a couple hours ago.
Well. I hadn’t expected so much interest, and as I sat down to eat and scroll through the matches, I found there were actually a few decent options.
One in particular stood out. His name was Rufus, and he was thirty years old, also a web developer and a divorced dad of two.
His profile stated his hobbies included canoeing, hiking, and travel.
He sounded a lot more adventurous and outdoorsy than me, but I imagined we’d have a few things in common career and divorce wise, although I doubted his ex-wife was a world famous rockstar.
Feeling brave, I sent him a message.
Me: Hello, how are you?
I set my phone down and continued eating my lunch. A few minutes later, it pinged with a response.
Rufus: I’m good :) You?
I put my wrap aside and composed another message.
Me: Doing well, just WFH today.
Rufus: I’m in the office. Have to go in once a week. My least favourite day, especially since I have to brave the dreaded M50 in the mornings :/
Me: Commiserations. I only have office days once a month—and thankfully, I don’t drive, so no M50 for me, although the bus can be a gauntlet at times.
Rufus: Wow, jealous. Not about the bus, though, obvi, lol.
I smiled at his hint of humour, and we continued chatting for a little while before I had to get back to work. Rufus seemed like a nice guy, albeit, a little safe. But safe was what I needed. I’d had the opposite in Jace and gotten my heart irreversibly broken.
Before I knew it, Zara was home from school, and my stomach tightened when the front door opened and shut. I was expecting Jace to appear with her, a flurry of anticipation in my stomach, but then when she came into the room, she was on her own.
“Hello, honey,” I said, leaving my desk to go and give her a hug. “How was school?”
“It was great! Everyone was talking about how good my solo was at the concert,” she beamed, and her happiness sparked my own. There was nothing that gave me more pleasure than knowing my daughter was content.
“You were brilliant. Is your dad not coming in?”
“No, he said he had to go to see Bren,” Zara replied as she went to the fridge to grab a snack.
“Bren?” I searched my memory for the name but couldn’t place it.
“Dad said he’s his sponsor. I asked what that means, and he said they basically talk a lot.”
Jace had a sponsor? Well, I guess it was good he’d found someone to help him through his recovery, but I was concerned at the pinch of disappointment in my belly that he’d left without coming in to at least say hello.
God, I was completely hopeless. I’d been so determined to convince myself that I wanted to see as little of Jace as possible, but there was obviously some part of me that still craved his company, even after all he’d put me through.