Chapter 20
Past Presence
They sat propped against pillows thirty minutes later, Amy feeding Shane a piece of toast slathered in butter and honey while some rom-com with Sandra Bullock played silently on the TV.
Jesus, he needed to stock his refrigerator with something besides beer, bread, and butter.
Then again, he’d never had a reason to before.
The only other woman to set foot in his apartment was his landlord, Marjorie.
The bed covers covered their laps, and he wore only his boxers.
Amy looked downright edible in one of his Sheriff’s Department T-shirts.
The thing never looked so good. It was too small for him but was so loose on her frame it kept sliding off her shoulder, reminding him she was naked underneath.
His dick twitched every time her skin was bared. Something was seriously wrong with him.
He was busily tonguing the honey off her sticky fingers and making her giggle when her phone chimed with a beep-beep, signaling a text from Micky. She flinched at the sound, and her laughter fizzled.
The light, sexy mood evaporated.
Not long after blocking him, Amy had wrestled with her conscience, and she’d unblocked him. Totally the wrong move, if you ask me. No one was asking Shane, though, so instead, he snarled, “What does he want this time?”
“Probably the same thing. I’m not going to check.”
“Why don’t you just turn it off?”
“Someone else might need to reach me.” She got up to wash her hands in the bathroom, her shoulders droopy. God, he hated to see the way Micky dampened her vibrant spirit.
Amy had given Micky his own individual chime—the car horn—and the damn thing had sounded at least ten times since they’d rocked each other’s worlds.
Shane darted his gaze toward the bathroom door before swiping her device from the nightstand.
Maybe he would shut it off and do them both a favor.
He began to scroll through her messages, knowing he shouldn’t, all while telling himself he was investigating—and that was his job, right?
He had to assess whether she was in any kind of danger.
She was right about the text being the same—a desperate-sounding variation of Call me. They’d begun as orders but had slid into pathetic pleas. Except for one.
Micky: Keep your mouth shut or you will blow this.
What the hell did that mean?
Shane placed the phone back in its spot.
“Is he telling me to call him again?” Amy stood framed in the bathroom doorway, eyes glistening in the dark as they fastened on him.
Busted.
“Yeah. Sorry. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t escalating into threats.” She glided toward him through the shadows, and as she drew nearer, he realized her mouth was curved in a half-smile. “You’re not pissed about me snooping?”
“Is that what you were doing?” Her voice held a teasing quality. “I’m not pissed, Deputy.” She slid under the covers and scooted close, her arm touching his as she sat beside him. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
The remark settled his doubts. A guilty person would have reacted, maybe blown a gasket about him looking at private messages.
“Nothing to hide? Then why are you wearing that T-shirt? Maybe you should take it off.”
She rewarded him with an eye-roll and a smirk.
His fingers skated across her smooth cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch with a sigh. “Are you feeling guilty?” she asked.
He halted his movements. “About what?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “You banged your friend’s girlfriend.”
“Let’s get the facts straight. You’re an ex-girlfriend, Micky’s not my friend, and I wouldn’t call what we did ‘banging.’ It sounds way too crude.”
Amusement danced in her eyes. “What do you call it, then?”
He gave her a salacious grin. “Profound fucking.”
She burst out with a laugh that loosened the knot in his chest. “And that’s not crude?”
Hand cradling her cheek, he nuzzled her ear. “No. It’s epic. Mind-blowing. On a whole other level I had no idea existed.” He drew back and peered into her eyes. “How about you? Are you okay with this? Or are you feeling guilty?”
She sighed. “Part of me says I should, but I don’t, which almost makes me feel guilty. Am I a bad person?”
His thumb stroked her jaw. “Never.”
“Maybe I’m blowing smoke up my own apron, but I keep telling myself things were over between Micky and me months ago. We were living like roommates, and the breakup was long overdue. Therefore, what you and I are doing can’t be wrong, can it?”
“So you didn’t …” Breath caught in his chest.
She shook her head. “No. Sex was one of the few things we had in common, and when that went by the wayside, I realized it left us with absolutely nothing.” Her dark eyes widened.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about sex with someone else while I’m, um, in bed with you.
” The tip of her nose turned bright pink.
He picked up her hand and squeezed it. “It’s fine, Amy.
” And he meant it because inside, he was dancing a jig knowing she and Micky hadn’t been intimate for a while.
Yeah, he could admit to himself he had embraced the whole chest-pounding, possessive caveman crap.
“I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded a little shaky, as if she had something more to confess. Apparently, she did. “Something’s been going on with Micky lately. He’s gone a lot, and I think he’s having an affair, or he might be up to something sketchy. He’s acting … off. I’m worried about him.”
That worry was etched in the soft lines bracketing her eyes and mouth. A spike of annoyance inside Shane startled him. Micky didn’t deserve an ounce of Amy’s empathy. He muscled it down and slid into his investigative persona. “How is he off? Describe his behavior for me.”
“He seems to be … unraveling. He’s super agitated, and he’s flaking out on his customers.”
The flaky part was news to Shane. “How do you know?”
“Cade told me at the Big Event. I thought Cade had been out partying the night before, and he had, but it turns out he got a late start at it because he ended up closing Micky’s garage for him.”
Shane blinked. Twice. “Why is Cade closing Micky’s garage?”
“You didn’t know? Cade started working for Micky about a month or so ago.
It was supposed to be a few hours a week, but he’s having to pick up a bigger chunk of the workload because Mick’s not around.
Cade’s over his head, and I think he’s starting to panic.
It’s one of the reasons he hasn’t been around Mountain Coffee as much and why he’s sometimes late for his shifts. ”
“So Micky’s not taking care of his business?”
She shook her head. “Plus, …” She bit her bottom lip.
“Plus, what?” he nudged.
“I hate saying this, but I have to tell someone. He’s been stealing money from my till.”
White-hot anger rushed through Shane’s bloodstream. What? That asshole!
She went on, unaware of the rage roiling inside him. “At first I let it go because I figured he needed the money and that he’d eventually put it back.”
“Do you still think he’s going to put it back?” Sarcasm laced his question.
She stared at him. “No. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I gave that up a while ago.”
Okay, at least she realizes she put her trust in the wrong person. His jagged edges smoothed out. “When did it start?”
“It’s been going on for at least six months.
At first, I couldn’t believe it. I thought I had been miscounting, but it turns out I hadn’t been.
I’m not talking a huge amount—hundreds, not thousands, and I still turned a profit—but it hurt nonetheless.
When I confronted him, he went ballistic and accused me of setting him up.
For what, exactly, I never found out.” Shane’s anger at Micky must have shown in his eyes because she quickly added, “He didn’t hurt me physically.
Just yelled a lot and threw things. And that, right there, is out of character.
” She dropped her head against the pillow and shut her eyes. “You must think I’m such an idiot.”
He drew tiny circles on her hand with his thumb. “Why would I think that?”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she turned her head to him. “Do you not see the word ‘gullible’ stamped across my forehead?”
“No.” He touched the tip of his finger to her nose. “What I see is someone who maybe trusts too easily, who wants so badly to believe the best of everyone that she sometimes ignores red flags.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and twined her small fingers with his. “He was really good to me at first, you know.”
He rested his head on hers. “I know,” he said softly. “I think he genuinely cared and was afraid of losing you so he was on his best behavior for a long time.”
“What you’re really saying is leopards don’t change their spots, and Micky couldn’t hide his anymore.”
“Something like that.”
She squeezed his hand. “I see your spots, Shane.”
“Damn! All of them?” he teased.
“Every last one.”
Her eyes drifted to the TV, and he directed his attention that way until she yanked it back with her soft voice.
“I appreciate that you used a condom without even asking. Given Micky’s—how do I put this?
—attention toward other women, I also understand why you would.
I just want you to know that from the beginning, when he and I first got together, I insisted he use one.
I told him I couldn’t use birth control because it jacked with my body, but that was a lie. ”
She suddenly sat forward, searching his face as if waiting for him to pass some kind of judgment on her.
He gave her a nod of encouragement instead, and she kept going.
“What he didn’t know was I was on birth control the entire time.
Still am. Not using it is what messes me up.
I always felt bad about lying to him like that, but looking back on it, deep down, I didn’t trust him.
” With good reason, Shane thought. “I also got tested regularly. The last time was right after we stopped sleeping together. I wanted to be doubly sure, you know? I was relieved when the report came back negative. I guess I was always worried there was a chance he’d give me something.
What a sad thing to admit about someone you tell yourself you loved. ”
“Did you love him?”
“I thought so, but honestly, I don’t know.”
He unlaced their fingers and smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand, her wrist, thoughts swimming through his head—too many to articulate.
“Shane, this isn’t me saying I want unprotected sex. It’s not about that at all. I would never want to put you on the spot like that. I just wanted you to know, that’s all. I want you to know me.” A shy smile tugged her lips. “Though I’m not opposed to the idea.”
His eyes widened. Condoms had always been an automatic for him in the rare instances he hooked up with someone.
If this thing with Amy was going to turn into long-term—and he was going to fight like hell to make sure it did—then he would definitely be down.
Being inside Amy without any layers between them? Oh fuck, yeah.
Sane Shane came back on board. Damn, that guy was a downer. “You don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done, Amy.”
“No, I don’t, but I don’t need to. I see your spots, remember?” She placed her hand over his heart. “You’re a protector. A safe harbor. I trust you … with my life.”
This small woman had utterly laid him bare.