Chapter 38
Shannon
A woman followed Jamie as he prowled out of the small space.
Reality swamped her chest, pain ripping her heart apart. Shattered pieces of hope caught fire, burning away any possibility of ever being with Jamie again.
Damn, he looked so good with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up, the cotton tight over the muscles she once traced with trembling fingers, every inch etched in her mind.
Not looking up, he swaggered into the corridor, checked his phone as if nothing had happened, and took a moment to drain his drink.
Shannon wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t obey as she watched every confident move he made, unsure if fury or desire powered the dizziness sweeping through her.
Her pulse thrummed, her throat tight, as jealousy and longing mixed into a volatile, unspoken tension .
After a beat, he looked up, and everything stopped.
The glass in his hand wobbled, but his eyes—those beautiful amber eyes—locked onto hers.
His self-assured grin faltered, a shock of recognition changing his expression.
“Shannon…” he said her name, soft but charged, full of an intimacy that sent her heart skittering.
He took a step toward her, his gaze drinking her in. “You’re here. You look fucking amazing, love.”
Her breath hitched. And in that moment, every emotion, every question, every ounce of pain, collided.
The desperate need to have his lips on hers matched the wrongful impulse to slap his handsome face. However, those perfect lips of his had touched the woman behind him.
The pounding rhythm of her heart drowned out the distant chatter of people in the corridor, the clinking of glasses, and a man’s voice booming over the loudspeaker, announcing the next race.
All of it blurred into white noise as her gaze held his.
“Who are you here with?” The familiar scent of his cologne triggered a rush of anger, longing and confusion, all swirling into one electric storm.
Shannon opened her mouth to answer, to shout, to beg him for something, anything .
But she swallowed the words. Resentment bubbled up, though she knew deep down this wasn’t betrayal because they weren’t even together. And never had been.
Still, the sting burned, a bitter reminder of what she’d pushed away .
She hated how easily he’d picked up with someone else, yet his full attention drilled into her rather than the other woman. Jealousy coiled inside her, more painful than she ever imagined possible.
Behind him, Miss Fancy Pants re-applied her lipstick, oblivious to the stake she’s wedged in Shannon’s heart.
The woman’s floral bodice lifted her breasts, her thighs exposed in a short dress that made Shannon resent the bruises she wore even more.
A tremble in her hands followed a wobble to her knees, then her clutch slipped. When it landed, loose coins scattered across the floor, rolling to a stop at Jamie’s feet.
Keeping eye contact, he pinched the knees of his suit trousers, hunkered low and gathered her belongings, putting them back into her purse.
“Jamie.” The woman joined his side, placing a hand on his shoulder before he rose to his full height.
His shoulders drew back in that confident way that always turned heads.
When he held her purse out in the space between them, her insides melted. That kindness she’d once known pulled her in deeper and the dimple she could never resist dented his cheek.
Without a word, she took her bag from him, nodded, and turned on her heels.
Misplaced hurt drove her to the ladies’ room, her heart heavy after she’d pushed him into another woman’s bed.
Pushing past a line of impatient women, Shannon staggered toward the mirrors, struggling to keep herself upright.
Her stomach churned as her pulse pounded to match her frantic breathing.
“You okay?” an older woman asked, her coral fascinator perched atop her head like a neon mistake.
Shannon shook her head, gripping the sink for support. “I’m light-headed from the champagne and saw someone I really didn’t want to see today.”
“Go ahead, sweetheart. That stall’s free. Take my turn.”
“Thank you.”
Shannon rushed into the stall, pressing her back against the closed door. The thought of Jamie with Miss Fancy Pants gnawed at her insides.
Damn it.
The past few weeks had been nothing short of hellish. Every single day, she regretted listening to Niall and telling Jamie to back off.
Maybe she should have called his bluff and waited to see if he actually cut her throat.
When Harry told her Niall would be gone for months, Shannon dared to imagine a future with Jamie in it…if he wanted her.
And now she knew what she’d always feared. He’d replaced her.
Outside the cubicle, the noise of gossiping voices stopped, and a faint giggle met hushed whispers.
“Shannon. ”
Her breath hitched, and her body stiffened at the sound of Jamie’s raspy, deep voice.
“I’m using the toilet,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I’ll wait.”
“No…”
“I need to speak with you. Just five minutes. Please.”
She rotated toward the door, her palms pressed against it, and her forehead followed, leaning into it for support. “I have nothing to say.”
“Please, love. The whole time she sucked my dick, it was your mouth I was thinking about.”
Rage feathered her vision. Pure fury flooded her veins at the image he’d given her. Another woman had his dick in her mouth, touched him…made him come.
“Am I supposed to open the door and run into your arms now, Jamie?” Her voice strained, fighting the rush of emotions.
“Shannon. Open the fucking door. Talk to me. You told me to back off.”
He was right. And everything about her reaction was wrong.
“A jar of cherry lips didn’t get me to talk to you then, and knowing she sucked you off won’t do it now.”
Bang .
A female voice cut through the sudden silence. “If you don’t want him, I’ll have him.”
Water dripped from the tap.
The same voice spoke again. “He’s gone, by the way. After he punched the shit out of the tampon machine. He’s probably gone to find the woman who sucked him off.”
Her cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of embarrassment. Taking a deep breath, she opened the cubicle door and stepped out, met by the curious eyes of an audience.
With a tight, controlled smile, she manoeuvred her way past them.
Back in the bar, she spotted Harry in the corner, seated with a woman whose wide-brimmed hat made it hard to see their faces, though she recognised his familiar tweed jacket straight away.
The guy deserved some fun, too. Before Shannon arrived at Meadow Dawn, Harry’s wife had left him for her Spanish hairdresser, leaving him to deal with everything on his own.
Turning away, she sat at a neighbouring table to catch her breath. She poured herself a glass of ice water, trying to pull herself together.
After a few minutes, she glanced over her shoulder to find Jamie at the bar, alone.
His hip leaned against the bar, his eyes lowered to the golden liquid in his glass. Shannon couldn’t avert her gaze, letting it wander all over him, drawn to the guy with every passing second.
The sight of him brought both pleasure and pain, a reminder of intimate moments and trust now lost. Niall had stolen everything, leaving her empty. And the most brutal realisation was that the heartache was hers alone.
Jamie had slipped into someone else’s life quicker than he’d once slipped into hers .
Out of the corner of her eye, Miss Fancy Pants entered, strutting to the bar with a confident sway. She was all bouncy curls, lacquered nails, and a gleaming smile.
Her fingertips danced up Jamie’s arm, and as her laugh rang out across the room, it pierced Shannon’s heart.
With a frustrated breath, Shannon stood and made her way to the exit, the fresh air biting at her flushed cheeks. Tears blurred her vision as the image of Jamie with that woman consumed her.
Breathe. Just breathe. Focus on something else. Pick a horse.
She moved to the parade ring, squinting as the sunlight broke through the clouds. Horses pranced in the paddock, led around the confined space.
She watched the rhythm of their movements, picking out the anxious ones, the ones that would burn out too soon or charge like demons to the finish line.
After a few minutes, she chose a lean bay mare with visible ribs and muscles taut under its glossy coat. Number 56.
She joined the bookmaker’s queue and waited. “Fifty quid on the nose. Number 56.”
The elderly man nodded and took her cash, printing out the ticket. “There ya go, love.”
His endearment stung, a silly reminder of Jamie’s face flickering through her mind. She pushed through the crowd, finding a space by the track just in time to see the horses burst off the starting line .
Pounding hooves reverberated through her body, adrenaline surging as the horses thundered past her.
Eyes locked on the large screen, she watched the jockeys urge their mounts forward, each one fighting for the finish line. Caught up in the thrill, she bounced on her toes, screaming as if Number 56 could hear her.
The winner crossed the line with a surge of energy, and Shannon couldn’t contain her excitement.
She clapped and smiled to herself, though even the thrill of winning a cool thousand pounds couldn’t fix the sadness in her heart.
The sky darkened and drizzle came. She groaned when it switched to a heavy downpour. Surrounding umbrellas opened in unison, a cascade of colour.
She turned, trying to shield her face from the sudden shower, but before she could reach cover, she collided with a solid, rock-hard form.
Raindrops pelted the black canvas overhead, offering her shelter, and that unmistakable, intoxicating scent of Jamie flooded her senses.
His presence enveloped her like a rush of heat, making her skin tingle. Confidence radiated off him, his height commanding her attention. She looked up and swallowed hard as her gaze clashed with his.
The intensity of his amber gaze pinned her in place, rage and hurt swirling in those depths.
“You backed 56, yeah?” His voice, deep and sultry, wrapped around her like a velvet rope.
Shannon swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “ Uh-huh.”
“Good choice. I didn’t expect to see you here, love,” he said, his tone sharper now.
“Clearly.” The irritation in her voice was unearned, but it came out anyway. “You looked cosy.”
A flash of something dangerous flared in his eyes, and his voice dropped an octave, low and controlled.
“I’ve had a shitload to drink, and it seemed like the only way to stop thinking about you.” His free hand grazed over her bicep, sending a shiver through her.
“You’ve always had that effect on me, but right now? Fuck, I’m struggling here, Shannon. What went wrong?”
She arched a brow, trying to hold her ground.
“Jamie… I—” The words faltered in her throat. “Too much happened. I swear I didn’t want to push you away…and I didn’t want to know that woman had you.”
The heat of his sigh washed over her, and the pressure of his fingertips on her arm made her body sway toward him.
“She didn’t have me, Shannon,” he murmured, his voice rough and raw with emotion. “You made me think I was fucking stalking you, which I’d happily fucking do if you enjoyed it. But you spelled it out for me, so I had to step back.”
She shook her head, trying to collect herself.
“Jamie, I need time to explain…” she said, all breathy and tattered. “I want to tell you everything…because I didn’t want to say those things.”