Chapter 12 #2
"I don't care." He looked at her then, and he knew all of his emotions were written across his face. "I would have sent twice as much if I could have. But I was afraid your dad would figure out it was me never accept my money again. So I sent what I could."
April's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Why?"
"You know why."
"I need to hear you say it."
Because I loved you.
I still do.
He’d never felt more certain of anything in his life. He loved April, loved her son, wanted to make a life with her. With them.
He also didn’t deserve that honor, that privilege.
Shane took a breath. "Because my father hurt you and I couldn't stand it. Because even when you were gone, even when I thought I'd never see you again, I needed to do something to make it right."
April nodded slowly. “Because you wanted to make it right.”
“I also didn’t abandon you at the bus station. My father…prevented me from going.”
Pain flashed across April’s face. “I can imagine how. He beat the shit out of you, didn’t he?”
Shane only nodded.
“At the time, I was so angry at you, at your whole family. It took me a while, but I realized what he must have done to you. Or maybe I talked myself into believing that what we’d had was real.”
“It was.”
“Was.” She pulled her foot out of his grip and stood abruptly. "You should probably go. It's late, Kevin's got homework in the morning."
“April, wait.”
Pete appeared from Kevin's doorway, stretching elaborately before padding toward them.
“See? Even Pete’s ready to go. Let me walk you out.”
“April, wait—"
"Thank you for dinner," she said, hand on the doorknob. "For spending time with Kevin.”
She he was already opening the door, Pete slipping through ahead of her. The cool night air hit Shane's face and he sucked in a breath. He may not deserve her, but he couldn't just leave like this, couldn't run away like a coward even though every instinct was screaming at him to bolt.
April grabbed a cardigan from the hook by the door and followed him onto the porch. The boards creaked under their feet. Pete wandered down to the grass, sniffing around with professional interest.
Shane’s hand closed around April’s wrist. She was backlit by the porch light, her face half in shadow, hair moving slightly in the breeze. Beautiful. God, she was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
"Don’t run away," he said.
She looked surprised. "Running from what? I'm not running."
"Yes, you are. You've been doing it since we were eighteen. Since that bus station." His fingers tightened on her wrist. "I tried to find you. You were always—April, you were always—"
"Thank you." Her voice came out fierce and tender at once. "Thank you for the loan payments. Thank you for standing up to your parents. Thank you for being patient with Kevin, for seeing him the way he deserves to be seen. Thank you for—"
Something in Shane's chest cracked wide open.
April didn't finish the sentence. Couldn't, because Shane had stepped closer. His free hand cupped the back of her neck and every good intention he'd ever had of leaving her alone went up in smoke.
Shane bent his head and kissed her.
The world narrowed to the soft sound she made against his mouth, the way her fingers tightened in his hair, the taste of coffee and something sweeter.
Empty years dissolved like smoke. He was seventeen again, stealing kisses in his truck on dark back roads, terrified and exhilarated and so in love he could barely breathe.
Except this was better. Because they weren't kids anymore. Because she was kissing him back like she'd been waiting for this just as long as he had. Because her body fit against his like coming home.
Shane cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.
April made a small, desperate sound that went straight to his gut.
His thumbs stroked her cheekbones, learning the architecture of her face all over again.
She'd changed—of course she had—but the essential April-ness of her was the same.
The way she kissed like she meant it, like she was all in.
He'd forgotten how good this felt. No—he hadn't forgotten. He'd just convinced himself over the years that memory was exaggerating, that nothing could actually feel this right.
He was wrong.
April's hands slid under his jacket, fingers splaying across his back through his shirt.
Shane groaned and kissed her harder, backing her up until she bumped against the porch post. She laughed against his mouth—breathless and joyful—and that sound did something to him.
Made him want to protect it, bottle it up, make sure she never stopped making sounds like that.
"Shane," she breathed, and his name in her voice sounded like a prayer.
He kissed down her jaw to that spot just below her ear that used to drive her crazy. Still did, apparently, judging by the way she gasped and arched into him.
"Waited so long," he murmured against her skin. "So damn long—"
"Mom?"
They sprang apart like they'd been electrocuted.
Kevin stood in the doorway behind the screen. His face was scrunched up with worry, eyes red-rimmed like he'd been crying, or was about to.
April dropped to a crouch. “Hey, sweetie, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” She opened the screen and reached for Kevin.
“Yeah, what’s wrong, bud?”
Kevin wiped his eyes. “Shane? I was thinking about the crickets.”
“Okay, what about them?” Shane realized he’d gone to his knees beside April. When did that happen?
“If you have to add forty to the chirps, what happens when the temperature is less than forty degrees?”
Oh boy. “Then…you don’t hear them because they’re gone, buddy.”
“Oh,” Kevin whispered. Kevin’s single syllable landed like a gut punch. “That’s what I thought.”
Instant regret. Why did I tell him about the crickets?
“Honey,” April started. “What’s this really about?”
Kevin ignored her. “Are you leaving?” Kevin looked at Shane. “You’re supposed to be Mom’s bodyguard.”
“I am—”
“But you hardly spent any time with her today. You spent it with me. What if something happened? It would be my fault.”
Shane and April looked at each other in horror.
“I’m okay, sweetie,” April said. She stood up and they went inside. She ushered Kevin to the couch and they sat down on either side of him. Pete plopped his head on Kevin’s knee. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, or to you.”
Kevin turned his gaze on Shane. “Can you stay over? Please?” he pleaded.
Shane watched April’s expression go straight to mortified.
“Sweetie, nothing’s going to happen tonight, just like it hasn’t happened any other night.” She looked desperately at Shane. “He doesn’t even have pajamas, and it’s not like he can wear mine.”
“Buddy,” Shane tried again. “Do you think I’d leave your mom helpless? I’ve assessed the risks and everything points to you guys being safe tonight.”
But by now, Kevin had worked himself up so much he was inconsolable. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
April put her arm around him and pulled him close. “You’re just tired,” she said in a soothing voice. “You’ve had a busy, exciting day and some stressful days before that. Why don’t I tuck you in?” She glanced at Shane. “We could both tuck you in. Pete could stand guard until you fall asleep—”
“Mom, please. Let Shane stay. Let Peetie stay,” he sobbed.
Shane raised his eyes to April. “I could stay on the couch. It’s plenty comfortable.”
April’s face went through a complex series of movements that did not look promising. Finally, she closed her eyes and blew out a breath.
“This will not become a regular thing, understand?”
Shane wasn’t sure if she was talking to Kevin or to him. Or both.
Maybe to herself as well.
Kevin nodded as one last sob escaped him. He threw his arms around her. She hugged him tightly, eyes still closed. When she opened them, she fixed Shane with an apologetic look. He smiled back softly and mouthed the words, It’ll be alright.
“Now, let me tuck you in, sweetheart, and I’ll get Shane a pillow.
” April stood and went down the hall with her arm still around Kevin.
Pete trotted behind, casting one last look over his shoulder at Shane who could only grin at his buddy.
April returned a few minutes later with a pillow and tossed it to him.
When he caught it, he could smell her lilac soap and her soft scent all over it.
This is gonna be torture.
“You don’t have to stay all night,” she whispered, still looking mortified. “You could leave after we’re sure he’s asleep and come back early tomorrow. If he gets up and sees you’re gone, I’ll tell him you’re out getting donuts.”
Shane cocked his head. “Is this a ploy to get donuts for breakfast?”
April snorted as her body relaxed. “Maybe.”
Shane chuckled. He reached out his arm in invitation and April sat beside him. “I was serious about spending the night.”
April sighed. “If you do, you can sleep in my bed.”
“Really?” he teased.
Her eyes about popped out of her head. “I mean, I won’t be in it. With you. At the same time.”
“That’s too bad.”
She narrowed her eyes. But not for long, when he reached up and stroked her cheek.
"Can you give us another chance?" Shane heard himself say. "We aren't the same people we were."
April was quiet for a long moment, her body warm beside him. Shane could feel his pulse in his throat, waiting.
Then April shifted, leaning into him until her head rested on his shoulder. The simple gesture hit him harder than any kiss. Trust. She was offering him trust.
"I'm scared," she whispered against his shoulder. "Not of you. Of this. Of wanting something this much."
Shane's arm came around her, careful and sure. "I know."
"What if—" She stopped, trying to find the right words. "What if we try this and it doesn't work? Kevin's already attached to you. Hell, I'm already…"
She didn't finish, but Shane heard everything she didn't say.
"Then we figure it out," he said quietly.
"Together. Like adults. But April?" He tilted his head until his cheek rested against her hair.
"I'm not abandoning you. Not this time. Even if you decide you don't want me, I'm still going to be here for Kevin. Still going to show up. Everything’s different now. "
April lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were bright in the warm light from the lamp as she searched his face for something. Whatever she found there must have been enough, because she leaned in and kissed him.
Not like before on the porch—not desperate or hungry or eighteen years overdue.
This was softer. Sweeter. A question and an answer all at once.
Her lips were warm against his, offering possibility.
Shane's hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as he kissed her back gently with all the patience he'd learned, all the hope he'd been afraid to feel.
She ended the kiss but stayed close enough that he could feel her breath against his lips.
"I'm already thinking about it," she whispered.
Shane's chest tightened. He wanted to pull her back, kiss her again, tell her all the things he'd kept locked up for so long. But April was already standing, putting distance between them even as her gaze stayed on his.
She made it to the hallway before she paused and looked back.
"Ask me again after the hike tomorrow."
Then she was gone, disappearing down the dark hallway toward her room. A door clicked softly shut.
Shane sat there on her couch, holding her pillow that smelled like lilac and home. Through the window, he could see stars scattered across the Colorado sky and hear the river murmur its gentle song.
Ask me again after the hike tomorrow.
Not no.
Not I need to think about it.
Tomorrow.
Shane pressed the pillow to his face and grinned like an idiot into the soft cotton.
He didn’t need to be in Vegas to know he’d just won the jackpot.
And this time, he’d do everything in his power not to squander it.