Collide (17 page)

It’s what he used to do. How many hours had
passed with him, Logan, and a few other boys building snow forts
and planning wars that went well into the night? His father would
end up outside with them, in the middle of fierce battle, giving as
good as he got. And his mother…she always called them in for hot
chocolate.

Funny. He hadn’t thought of thought of that
in years.

Tense, Shane led Celia to the carriage house
and inside his workroom. With the large harvest table gone, there
was plenty of open space and the two of them stood there, facing
each other warily.

He decided to get to the point. “What do you
want, Celia?”

She shivered and ran her hands along her arms
as she took another step inside, her pale lips still tight and the
lines around her eyes much more pronounced than he’d first
noticed.

“I want to invite you to come for dinner
Wednesday evening. We’re still settling in or tonight would be fine
but…”

Shock held Shane’s tongue.

“That is, if you don’t already have plans,”
she said haltingly.

“Dinner,” he said carefully. What the hell
was she up to? “Did you run this by James?”

For a few moments she didn’t anything. “He
wants to reconnect with you, Shane.”

“I don’t know what fantasy world you’re
living in, so why don’t we cut the bull and you can tell me what it
is that you really want?”

Her bottom lip trembled and damn it, if Shane
didn’t feel like an asshole. When her eyes filled up with shiny
tears, the asshole meter went into overdrive and he took a step
forward.

“Look, Celia. I appreciate the gesture, but I
don’t think—”

But the words were halted as she slowly
dragged her fur hat from her head. The wisps of blond he’d seen
poking from the edge of her hat were few and far between. The woman
was almost bald, with only patches of fuzz here and there. With her
gaunt cheeks and sickly pallor she looked just like…

Jesus Christ, but she looked like his
mother.

Celia’s wiped her eyes with the back of her
hand and stared up at him, her frail body shivering as she held her
hat between her fingers. “I need this, Shane. I need this for James
and for,” her voice broke and he took a step forward but halted
when she shook her head and exhaled. “I need this for Eden.”

Fuck, the world was all screwed up because in
that moment he knew. “You’re sick.”

She nodded, a tremulous smile on her lips.
“The big C as they say, but I call it the big, O. Ovarian.”

“I’m sorry.” What else was there to say? He’d
watched his mother die of the same fucking disease. A slow, painful
death and it wasn’t something he would wish on anyone.

Celia shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m trying
to stay positive and though my prognosis isn’t great I believe in
my heart that I can beat this. It’s partly why we moved back to New
Waterford. I love the city. I love the frenetic pace, the shopping,
the museums and theatres. But right now, I need a slower kind of
life and James agreed it was the right thing for us.”

“And you think dinner will be good
because…”

Pia chose that moment to rush down the
stairs, her small body shaking in her effort to get to Shane. Once
she reached her master’s side, she gave him a lick on his boot and
then ran back to Celia. The little animal sniffed and snorted and
then moaned when Celia sank her French tipped nails into the soft
fur under her bright pink collar.

She smiled, the first genuine, natural smile
he’d seen and glanced up at him. “She’s a girl, I’m presuming?”

“I hope so, ‘cause if not, that dog has got
to be the most confused animal in New Waterford.”

With one more pat on the head, Celia
straightened and settled her fur hat back onto her head. “I know
you hated the fact that your father and I got married so soon after
your mother passed.”

Any lightness they’d shared was gone. The
woman had balls bringing that shit up.

“Five months isn’t soon, Celia. Five months
is fucking wrong.”

A shadow passed over her features, one that
didn’t quite leave her eyes. “You think that I’m the enemy who
swooped in and took him from you. But the truth of it is, I saved
him after your mother died. I saved your father back then, Shane,
but now he’s barely holding on.”

He thought of how old his father had looked,
of the pallor on his skin and then there were the rumors of an
illness back in the fall.

“Is he…is he sick?” The question fell from
his mouth before he could stop it. Did he care? If he didn’t, did
that make him the biggest bastard in the state?

“Other than a mild heart attack in the
November, physically he’s fine. It was mostly stress related but
his soul is tired and sick, Shane. Nothing is heavier on the heart
than regret. He’s made some mistakes.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’ve
all made a lot of mistakes.”

Celia turned and walked over to the door but
paused before leaving. “I saved him once, but this time I need your
help, Shane.
He
needs you. He won’t survive the next year
unless he has his son back and I need him on his game. I need him
to be there for Eden because she’s not as strong as you.”

She turned back once more and nailed him with
a direct look that told him Celia wasn’t going to give up. “I need
you
to be there for Eden.”

And then she left.

It was nearly six o’clock Sunday evening when
the doorbell rang. Slinging a tea towel over her shoulder, Bobbi
unplugged the crock pot and pushed it back into its spot between
the toaster and the fridge. With Billie at Logan’s and Betty not
yet returned from her Saturday night out with Matt Hawkins, there
had only been the three of them—Bobbi, Herschel, and her father.
So, leftover chili and garlic toast was more than enough.

With a sigh, Bobbi tossed the towel over the
drying rack next to the sink and headed for the foyer just as the
doorbell went again.

“Twins! One of you going to get that?”
Herschel said loudly, as the volume of the television increased
tenfold. Her father and Gramps were already in the family room, no
doubt each in their favorite seats, eyes glued to the flat
screen.

God forbid they miss 60 Minutes.

“I got it,” she mumbled, reaching for the
doorknob. “And in case the two of you didn’t notice I was the only
one at the dinner table.”

Twins my ass, she thought, though a small
smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. From the earliest
memories she had, Gramps had always referred to the three of them
as twins. No matter if one or three were around. It confused more
than a few folk, but it was just Gramps.

She opened the door and a fresh gust of wind
tickled her nostrils. For a moment she wasn’t sure who was standing
on the porch. The lights weren’t on yet and it was already dark
outside.

“Hey.”

Bobbi hoped the weird little squeak she heard
in her head hadn’t made its way into the outside world, but judging
from the small smile Shane sported, that wasn’t the case.

“I would have called but I wasn’t sure you’d
answer.”

Shane’s rakish grin was offset by the thick
waves that curled from beneath his plain black toque. A cream
colored turtleneck kept him warm beneath a North Face coat, though
he wore jeans and his regular boots.

“Bobbi?” he prodded.

She had thought of nothing but this man since
the night before. She’d tossed his idea around, his crazy idea that
the two of them could have a no-strings-attached, sex only
non-relationship and she, god help her, was considering it.

She gazed up into his eyes and felt that
something spark inside her, the something that only Shane Gallagher
could get going. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but it sure
as hell felt good.

She cleared her throat and stood back,
conscious of the fact she was in a pair of old track pants and a
simple white T-shirt.

“Would you like to come in?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

Surprised, her head shot up sharply. “Then
why are you here?”

He leaned against the door jam and though the
wind was gusting somewhat, spreading cold air and snowflakes into
the house, she was hot as hell. Hot and irritable and twitchy.

That was a good word for it. She was
twitchy.

She could smell him now. That crisp,
masculine scent. The one that was only Shane.

Was there anything else? Sweat beaded along
her brow and she inhaled sharply.

“I was ah,” that damn grin stole his mouth
once more. “I was wondering if you had given any more thought to
what we discussed last night.”

Only every freaking second
.

She banished the thought. Kept her game
face.

“I don’t remember having much of a
discussion. In fact, I remember you groping me on the dance floor
and then whispering some stupid cock and bull idea into my ear.”
Good. This was good. She sounded as if she was in control even
though she was still twitchy as hell.

Bobbi tugged on the edge of her T-shirt,
which only drew Shane’s attention to her chest. And that was a bad
thing because contrary to what she’d worn the night before, she
wasn’t sporting a thick padded bra. The fact that her nipples were
hard and pebbled wasn’t going to be hidden from his eyes.

Thank god he couldn’t see the state of what
was going on between her legs. She was already wet. Hell, she’d
been walking around the house in a perpetual sexual haze all day.
She would have used her damn vibrator to ease her discomfort if the
batteries hadn’t died just as she was getting started.

And now…now Shane stood inches from her,
looking so damn good that her twitchiness was ramped up into the
red zone.

“Who’s there, Bobbi?”

She turned just as Gramps shuffled in from
the family room. Herschel had always had a soft spot for Shane and
his bushy white eyebrows rose dramatically as he crossed the foyer
and shook Shane’s outstretched hand.

“Good to see you boy,” Herschel said.

“Thanks Mr. Barker. Nice to see you too.”

“Bah,” her gramps snorted. “It’s Herschel.”
He paused. “I hear your father has moved back to town.”

Bobbi turned to Shane in surprise, but his
expression was shuttered and she couldn’t get a read on him.

“Yes, they moved back a few weeks ago.”

“How’s he doing? I heard he went through a
bad spell there.”

Shane nodded. “He seems pretty much the same
to me.”

“Still a bastard then?” Herschel grinned.

“Same as always.”

Herschel nodded and then clapped his hands.
“Well, I don’t mean to keep the two of you. Where you headed?”

“Oh, Gramps, we’re not…” she licked dry lips
and avoided Shane’s probing gaze. “I mean, we’re not you know…”

“Uh huh,” Herschel said with a grin.
“Whatever it is you are or aren’t doing isn’t any of this old man’s
business.” He winked and smiled up at Shane. “But I’m glad she’s
doing it with you. Gerry wasn’t the right fit.”

With that Herschel left them alone.

“So, about our
discussion
.” Shane took
a step inside and closed the door behind him. “I was wondering if
you’d given it any more thought.”

“I might have pondered the idea,” she
admitted, loving the thrill that shot through her body when his
grin widened. For that one moment, Shane Gallagher looked a whole
hell of a lot like the young man she’d fallen in love with.

“But I…” her words drifted off as a haze of
confusion washed over her. What the hell was she doing? Shane was
the devil in disguise. Did she really think she could tango with
him and not get hurt? Was she that fucking stupid?

“Here’s the thing, Bobbi.”

Her name on his lips was like whiskey over
ice, smooth with a kick.

“Why don’t we forget about all of that for
tonight.”

Her mouth was dry but she managed to speak.
“Forget about it? Then why are you here?”

He shoved his hands into his front pockets
and hunched his shoulders forward. Again his scent filled her and
an image of his large hands cupped around her….

Bobbi gave herself a mental shake. Do not
think of Shane and sex.

Or naked bodies.

Or his damn tattoos.

She swallowed again.

Or the way his eyes glittered like chocolate
diamonds just before he…

“A bunch of us are taking sleds out and
heading to the Lainey estate. Rick’s been up there all day tapping
the maple trees and invited us up.”

“Maple trees,” she murmured.

Lainey’s estate. Wow. A lot of memories
there. Sugar shacks, snowmobiling, and that massive hot tub.

“Billie and Logan are already up there.” He
shrugged. “I wasn’t going to go but then I thought maybe if you
wanted to…” His voice trailed off for a moment, his eyes intense as
he gazed down at her. “We can put our deal off the table for
tonight and just hang out.”

A thrill shot through her at the look in his
eyes.

“Just hang out,” she repeated dryly.

“Well we can try can’t we? I mean,” his grin
slid into something seductive. “I have no problems with a hands off
policy, if you’re game,” his eyes drifted to her lips and she had
to eat the groan inside her mouth as the ache between her legs
intensified.

Bobbi bit her lip and glanced toward the
family room. Could she do this? Spend an evening with Shane as just
friends? Were they even friends?

The television blared and she smelled the
popcorn that Gramps and her dad always had. It was Sunday night and
she could cuddle up in an afghan on the sofa with them, or she
could go snowmobiling.

“The deal is off?” she asked softly.

He nodded, his dark eyes glittery. “Just for
tonight.”

Don’t do it. You’ll cave. You always do
when Shane’s involved
.

But she wanted to cave didn’t she? Maybe she
needed to feel as alive as she did when she was with him. And this
wasn’t just about sex. No way. It was about the way he anticipated
her every thought and need. It was about how he got her jokes even
before she spoke them. How he knew that she hated peas and loved
sweet potato.