Chapter 19 Shaw
SHAW
I’d forgotten how beautiful she was.
I’d forgotten the way her nose turned slightly at the tip. I’d forgotten how delicate and dainty her ears were and how small she seemed when I was standing this close.
But I hadn’t forgotten those eyes. Even in the dark, those enthralling irises jumped out and ensnared me.
“Hello, Presley.”
She blinked.
I bent to pick up the bag of carrots and brushed off the snow from the plastic. “Can we go inside? Talk where it’s warmer?”
I’d come from sixty degrees in California this morning to zero in Montana. I was wearing a pair of jeans, tennis shoes and a sweater.
When I’d arrived and seen that Presley’s Jeep wasn’t in her driveway, I’d unpacked my suitcases, then waited. When I’d seen headlights flash in her driveway, I’d stepped outside to meet her.
I hadn’t expected to see Luke’s rig. I definitely hadn’t expected to see Presley lean across the console and kiss him.
The cold had seeped into my bones the minute her lips had touched his.
Fucking Luke? Really?
I’d liked him, but that son of a bitch had crossed the line.
Presley was mine. That was my pink mouth and those were my blue eyes.
I was in Montana to fix my colossal fuckup and win back my girl. No more secrets. No more hiding. Presley was mine, and Luke had to go.
“We can go to my place?” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder.
Her eyes darted past me, taking in the light I’d turned on in the living room and the truck I’d parked in the driveway. This vehicle wasn’t a rental, not this time. There was nothing temporary about this trip. Presley did a double take, realizing she hadn’t noticed either when she’d arrived.
She’d been too consumed with Luke.
Fucker.
There was no way I’d go fishing with him again.
Presley remained silent but crossed her arms over her chest as her teeth rattled.
“You’re freezing.”
She clamped her teeth together.
“Let’s go inside. Please?”
She found her voice, as cold as the winter moon. “No.”
“You do love telling me no,” I teased.
Not a crack in that exterior. “What do you want, Shaw?”
“I’m sorry. I owe you an apology and an explanation.
Can we please just go inside?” I moved to touch her arm, but she shied away.
This wasn’t going to be easy. I hadn’t deluded myself into thinking she’d come running into my arms, but I’d hoped for understanding.
If we could just talk, if I could explain, she’d have to understand.
She could rake me over the coals for as long as she wanted, she could hold my mistake over my head for a decade, as long as we were together.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s been . . . months.”
“I came to grovel.”
Presley arched one of those perfect eyebrows. “You came to Montana in February to grovel?”
“That’s right.” I nodded.
“A phone call would have sufficed.”
“Yeah.” I shifted the carrots to my other hand, then back again. “I didn’t want to talk over the phone.”
I didn’t want to talk in the freezing cold either, but she wasn’t going to let me inside, not tonight.
“I’m sorry, Presley.” If that’s all she heard tonight, I’d count it as a win. I had months to tell her the rest. “I know it wasn’t you, and I’m sorry for assuming it was. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
“You thought I’d sold your personal story for money.”
“Most people would.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not most people.”
No, she wasn’t. “I’m not making excuses, but I would like to explain.” I pointed a frozen finger toward my house. “Please?”
“Fine,” she grumbled and stormed past me, flying up the stairs and barging through the front door.
I hurried to follow, keeping up until she stopped in the living room.
She looked around, taking in the space and the furniture.
The real estate market wasn’t exactly booming in Clifton Forge and there hadn’t been a single interested party for this house.
Five months ago, I’d been pissed, wanting this house off my ledger.
A lot had changed since. Now, I was glad to have a place close to Presley as I begged for her forgiveness.
“Would you like something to drink?” I waved a hand to the kitchen.
“No.” Her arms were wrapped tight around her torso, closing in on herself.
“Would you like to sit?”
“No.” She wouldn’t look at me.
“Okay.” I stepped past her, drawing in a deep breath of that citrus and vanilla scent I’d missed so much.
I took a seat on the couch and leaned forward on my elbows, tossing the carrots I was still carrying to the coffee table.
The wood gleamed, having been polished by the cleaning crew who’d come in yesterday to tidy it up.
“What do you want, Shaw?” My name sounded painful on Presley’s lips. Christ.
“I’m sorry.” I met her gaze, pleading for her to hear the sincerity in my words. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She rolled her eyes. “If that was true, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay.” Ouch. “I deserved that.”
“You assumed the very worst of me. You deserve far worse.”
“You’re right.” I held up my hand. “Please, let me explain, then you can rip me to pieces.”
She glared at me but stayed silent.
Goddamn, I’d missed that glare. I’d missed that scowl and those imperious, angry gestures. I’d missed her. Everything about her. And if dealing with her wrath was the only way to have her at the moment, then I’d take it willingly.
“I hadn’t told anyone about my dad, so when I told you, it was the first time. It’s been buried for years and then to have it come out after I told you . . . I thought maybe you’d used me. With the way you were so happy that day I left—”
“You thought I was happy?”
There was the fire in my girl. “You seemed glad.”
“I was miserable,” she snapped. “I was heartbroken. I hated that you were leaving but what was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”
“Yes.”
She scoffed. “You have a whole life that I’m not a part of. I wasn’t going to pretend you’d give it up for me, because we both know you wouldn’t have.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. Even if she had asked me to stay, I would have returned to California, but I wouldn’t have ended us. I would have found a way to keep us going. “I was upset with how things ended.”
It had taken me months to realize that she’d put up the wall because she’d been hurting. I’d been too busy dealing with my own thoughts about leaving that I hadn’t seen the truth.
“Dad’s story came out right as I got back to California. I thought . . .” I blew out a deep breath. “You know what I thought.”
“Yes, you made it very clear.”
“I fucked up. I should have asked more questions. I should have let you explain.”
Her chin jutted up. “I never would have done that to you.”
“I know. I overreacted. I found out about a month afterward that it was someone from the police department where Dad used to work. The rumor had been spreading. I don’t know how it started, but someone got wind of it and leaked it to the press.”
The magazine that had published the story first had refused to sell it to me and they’d refused to give up their source. It had taken every one of my resources plus multiple favors to track down the story’s origin.
I’d been so sure it was Presley’s name I’d find. So damn sure and so damn arrogant.
The story had actually been leaked by one of Dad’s old colleagues, a sergeant who’d never liked Lieutenant Shane Valance and had weaseled information from Dad’s former captain.
“I’m sorry.” I’d repeat it a million times. “I’m so sorry.”
She swallowed hard. “So now you know, and now you’ve apologized. You can go.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then I am.” She shot toward the door, practically running the length of the entryway.
“Presley, wait.” I leapt from the couch and chased after her. The cold air stung my nostrils as I followed her to her own porch. “Presley.”
She kept walking. “Go back to California, Shaw.”
“I’m staying.”
She skidded to a stop, then whirled around. Those arms came off her torso and flew into the air. “Why? Why are you here?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” I stepped closer. “I tried. For months, I tried to get you out of my head, but I can’t.”
“So what? What did you expect to happen? For me to fall at your feet because the famous movie star Shaw Valance wants to be back in my life as long as it suits his schedule?”
“No, that’s—”
“Did you expect me to be waiting around for you?”
Yes. “We have something, and you feel it too.”
That obstinate chin lifted. “I’m with Luke.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re going to get. Go home, Shaw.” She spun on her foot and marched to her house. The door slammed, echoing down the quiet street.
I stared at it, my breath billowing around me until the cold won out and I retreated to my house. The baby carrots on my coffee table mocked me when I sat down.
“Fuck.” I ripped the bag open and popped one in my mouth, crunching with fury.
That had not gone like I’d expected. Though to be fair, nothing with Presley had ever been predictable—she hadn’t changed.
On the plane ride to Montana, a part of me had wondered if she’d see me and smile. I’d been a daft idiot for hoping that months apart would have cooled her temper.
She had every right to be mad. She had every reason to hate me.
What if she never forgave me? What if I’d come here too late?
I groaned and flopped back on the couch. Christ. What if she’d fallen in love with Luke Rosen?
When I’d left Clifton Forge, I’d been half in love with the guy myself. He was a good guy—better than me. In my shoes, Luke wouldn’t have screwed up in the first place. But if he had, if he were sitting on this couch in my place, would he walk away? Would he let her go?
It didn’t matter. I was me and no matter what Luke would do, I wasn’t leaving Presley. Not again.
My phone rang and I dug it out of my pocket, answering my sister’s call. “Hey.”
“So? Did you see her?” Matine asked.