Chapter 44
Shannon
After Harry’s funeral, Bucky, and Shannon ran the yard together, since the will hadn’t been read.
One thing they were certain of was that Harry wanted his ashes scattered in the fields near the house. But the ceremony remained on hold until Niall returned from rehab.
“You don’t need to muck out, Jamie,” Shannon said, leaning her hip against the wooden frame. His hoody hung over the stable door, leaving him in nothing but a black t-shirt and muddy sweatpants. “Manual labour looks good on you.”
“You checking me out, love? Thought you were here to supervise, not undress me with your eyes.”
His gaze, almost black in the dim light, drifted from her dusty boots to the messy hair framing her face.
“I’m doing this for you, you know,” he said, driving the prongs into the shavings. “I like seeing you breathe easier. Makes me feel like I’m doing my job right. ”
Dark scruff covered his jaw, giving him a rough edge that only made him more irresistible.
“I can handle horse shit.” He shrugged. “It’s been a rough few weeks, and I want you to know I’m here.”
He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, clearing sweat from his brow.
“It’s dirty work,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I didn’t think a pretty boy like you would enjoy getting covered in shit.”
She bit her lip, trying to suppress the giggle when he tossed sodden shavings into the wheelbarrow.
“I’m used to getting down and dirty. But I clean up well…if you ask nicely,” he replied, his grin lighting up the shadows. “Besides, all this has taken its toll on you. Even if you won’t admit it, you need me.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I need you?”
“You do,” he said, stepping closer. “And one of these days, you’ll admit it while you’re begging.”
In two long strides, he closed the distance between them, pulling her into his chest with one arm and threading his fingers through her hair. The intoxicating scent of him—woodsy, masculine, a hint of heat—filled her lungs, making her weak at the knees.
“I miss him,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
“I know. He was the first person who gave you a chance. We’ll do right by him. Together.” He threaded her hair through his fingers, pulling her even closer. “Once I’m done here, we’ll head home.”
Home.
The word settled in her chest, warm and comforting. Wherever he was, that felt like home. Whether it was his mansion in Fermanagh or a shack on the beach, as long as he was there.
She nodded, loving how he squeezed her tighter in his arms. The past month had been a whirlwind—going through paperwork, managing clients, and working with the horses.
And somewhere along the way, Jamie became essential to her. After losing Harry, she couldn’t shake the worry that Jamie could walk away one day and lose interest.
For now, they followed their routine of flying back to Fermanagh every evening with Jackson lounging in the chopper. She didn’t argue when Jamie insisted she stay. The loft had lost its appeal, and the yard seemed empty without Harry.
Being with Jamie, though, that was safe, electrifying, and everything she needed.
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at him. “I’d be lost without you.”
“Come on, love. Let’s go. Bucky can finish up.” His fingers slid under her top, stroking her spine.
Her eyelids were heavy as she walked beside him, leaning into him, bone tired. She didn’t want to admit it, but the constant back and forth between his place and the yard had her on the edge of burnout.
Functioning had become a struggle, and the ache of grief followed her everywhere .
“How much does it cost to use the helicopter every day?” she asked, her voice croaky from exhaustion, as he helped her into the chopper. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to take a car?”
“It’s a tax thing.” He winked. “I handle the logistics. You handle staying soft for me. That’s your only job right now.”
If she were honest with herself, the helicopter was just another sign of his control. Still, she couldn’t wrap her head around how it was always available, even if it made the journey quicker.
He joined her in the cabin, checked her harness and handed her the headset, waiting until she’d put it on before speaking.
“You look tired, Shan,” he said, taking her hand.
She kept her gaze outside as the helicopter took to the sky, the propellers cutting through the clouds. “I wake up drained…and stay that way until I’m asleep.”
“You’ve been running on empty for weeks. Been so strong,” he said. “Tonight, you’re going to be a good girl and let me take care of everything. You’ll sleep when I say. Eat when I say. And I’ll hold the rest.”
His fingers found her face, nudging her to meet his gaze. “You’ll have dinner with me and go straight to bed. I promise.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jamie.”
His brow furrowed.
“I won’t do anything that makes you unhappy or sick. You’re pale as hell. I can control myself until you’re feeling stronger,” he said, his tone raw, almost possessive. “I’ll run you a bath…no fucking sudsy showers for you, love.”
When she laughed, he smirked. “After that, it’s an early night for you. I have work to do, so I’ll join you later. You won’t even know I’m there.”
She let out a breath, almost mocking. “Then I may as well stay at the loft.”
The suggestion was flippant, but she knew it wasn’t an option. Not anymore.
“That’s not happening. I need to know you’re where you belong. Under my roof, my sheets, and safe where I can see you. Knowing you’re in my bed, waiting for me, gives me a reason to stop working.”
“Okay.” Her smile was soft, the confirmation comforting. She leaned into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, at ease by his side. “Maybe you can do that thing with the rope again.”
Jamie’s hand tightened around her thigh, a warning in his grip. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll struggle to keep my promise. Say that again, and I’ll tie you up and leave you there, just to remind you who you belong to.”
That night, Jamie kept his word. After running her a lavender bath, he set a bowl of Irish stew before her at the dining table, its familiar taste reminding her of Harry. It didn’t taste the same, though.
The sip of wine she had left her stomach unsettled. So she had an ice-filled glass of fizzy water, wondering why everything seemed so different .
Once she was full, Jamie carried her to bed, propped her with pillows, and clicked on the TV.
“This is where you fall apart if you need to,” he said, tucking the duvet around her. “And I’ll be right here.”
He lay beside her, holding her hand like they were an old married couple, so easy, so natural.
She wanted to tell him how he’d become her saviour, how his presence had changed everything. To put her heart on the line, to lay it all out for him.
The constant flutters in her chest, the longing to be near him, the way he worshipped her. Her emotions ran so deep, but every time she thought about opening up, a knot of fear twisted in her gut. What if it all crumbled the second she let herself fall too far?
Glancing at his profile, at the way his hand held hers tighter, she nodded to herself.
“You okay, love?” he asked, kissing her knuckles.
Every bruise on her soul, every crack she’d tried to hide, now lived under his protection because she belonged to him. Her pain, her past, her body… all his to hold, to command and soothe.
She glanced at him, blinking in his mussed-up hair and amber eyes.
“Yeah…” Her smile trembled. “I...I don’t know how you do it, but everything’s easier when I’m with you. You make it all…better.”
This was it.
She’d fallen in love, and she hadn’t even noticed the fall until he was the only one catching her .
But even as the thought settled inside her, a cold ripple of fear gripped her heart. Niall would be back any day now, and when he returned, everything she had would come crashing down.
He would ruin this. He always did.