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She shook her head, but said nothing. He
stared down into those dark, blue eyes, and cradled her head in his
hands, kissing away the tears and resting his forehead against
hers.

He sensed that something was different but
wasn’t sure what it was. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or
something he didn’t want to think about.

And before he even knew what he was going to
do, he murmured, “I love you, Bobbi.”

As the words fell from his lips, she
shuddered and began to cry in earnest, which totally wasn’t the
reaction a guy who had just declared his love wanted to hear. The
sounds she made as she tried to stop the flow of tears ripped into
him.

“Jesus, Bobbi. What is it? You’re freaking me
the hell out.”

Gently, Shane withdrew from her. He pulled up
her jeans and fixed her top, his hands never leaving her body. He
didn’t want to stop touching her. Ever.

When she was respectable and he was tucked
back into his pants, Shane kissed her once more, hoping the huge
eyes and pensive expression wasn’t an indication of where her head
was at. Why the hell had he opened his big mouth? Obviously, she
wasn’t ready for the kind of stuff he was thinking about, the kind
of stuff that required planning and futures. A future that was all
about Bobbi and Shane.

He must not have heard her right, that night
up at the cabin. Or if he had, why the hell hadn’t he told her then
where his head was at?

Shit. Had he just screwed things up?

“Bobbi,” he said roughly, “I’m sorry, babe.
Just tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I did to make you cry.”

He would have pressed forward but stopped
when she put her fingers on his mouth, when she silenced him and
cupped his face.

“I love you, Shane.”

His heart thrummed. It thrashed and nearly
beat out of his chest at the words. At the sound of those words. At
the
idea
of those words.

“I loved you before we met. Before I ever
laid eyes on you. I think I loved you before I was born. Is that
possible? You’re the other half of my heart. The other half of my
soul and I don’t want to lose you.” Her voice broke and she
whispered. “Not again.”

“Babe, you’re not gonna lose me.” Relief
flooded him. Was that all she was worried about?

But her eyes remained dark and the sadness in
them tore at his heart.

Shane glanced away. He was confused and
barely holding on to the emotions buffeting him.

Everything she’d just said was what he wanted
to hear. All of it. Every. Single. Word. Yet, why the hell did he
feel as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff? Why did he feel
as if everything he’d accomplished in the last few months…hell, in
the last few years was about to disappear?

He’d paid his dues. His life was on track.
Why the hell couldn’t he have what he wanted most?

“We need to talk about some things,” she said
eventually and then quickly added, “But not now. I have to go. I
have to…it’s Easter and I promised the girls I’d help prepare for
dinner tomorrow.”

Dinner? Easter? He didn’t give a flying fuck
about any of that shit when there were ‘things’ to talk about. What
things? What the hell had her so sad that she cried when he was
inside her? What the fuck was going on?

Shane cleared his throat and opened his mouth
but the door to his shop flew open and his sister Eden strolled in
as if she had every right to. She doffed her purple and black
toque, flicked her long hair behind her shoulder as she stopped
dead in her tracks and stared at the two of them. “Am I
interrupting?”

“Damn, right,” Shane said loudly.

“No, I was just leaving,” Bobbi replied at
the same time. She touched her lips to his, a soft caress that made
him ache, and whispered. “I love you. Remember that.”

Then she pulled away, waved to Eden, and
disappeared out the door before he had a chance to stop her.

“Wow, that was weird.” Eden shoved her hands
into her jacket pocket and bit her lip. “Is it okay that I’m
here?”

When he didn’t answer—how could he answer his
mind was still on Bobbi—she hunched forward. “Okay, I’ll just
leave. This was a stupid idea anyway.”

Shane’s head shot up. “What? No. It’s fine.
Is everything alright?” He hadn’t seen Eden since dinner at his
father’s a few weeks back. He’d stopped in once at his father’s
request, but she had been at the library.

Eden shrugged and glanced away. “Mom had to
go for chemo, so Dad took her. They’ll be at the clinic most of the
day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It sucks,” she answered. “I didn’t want to
stay home by myself and I didn’t want to go to the clinic. I went
the last time and it freaked me out.” She paused. “Did you…”

“Did I go with my Mother?”

She nodded, though her eyes were averted.

“No.”

As soon as he spoke she turned her head and
the relief in her eyes nearly broke his heart.

“I felt bad not going.” She twisted a piece
of hair in between her fingers. “I mean, I want to be there for
Mom, but that place…” she shuddered. “Those people are all just
waiting to die and I can’t look at any of them.” She glanced up
then, her eyes tortured. “I can’t look at Mom in there because in
there, in that place where she needs to be, all I see is death, you
know?” Eden shook her head vehemently. “And she’s not going to
die.”

“No,” Shane said softly. “She’s not.”

It was as if Eden needed to hear those words.
As soon as he said them, her shoulders relaxed. She exhaled and
unzipped her jacket. “Do you have a soda?”

“It’s ten in the morning, Eden.”

She shrugged. “I know, but do you?”

“Sure,” Shane answered, heading to the small
bar fridge he kept in the back.

“Do you think you could show me some of your
paintings?”

Shane returned with a soda and handed it to
his sister, nodding toward the far end of the room where his easel
was set up and a bunch of canvases lay against the wall.

“Sure.”

“Cool,” Eden said taking a sip, her eyebrow
arched quizzically. “Um, also do you know a boy named Brian
Danvers? I think he said his brother plays on your hockey team? The
one with your girlfriend’s sister?”

Shane stopped cold, his expression darkening.
Shit. His sister was interested in one of the Danvers? Christ, that
was all he needed.

“I know his brother, Jason.”

We won’t talk about the other one
.

He led the way over to his easel and judging
by the quick, cursory glance Eden gave to his paintings he knew
this visit wasn’t about his talent with a brush. It was about her
mother and her pain and fear in dealing with the unknown.

It was about her interest in some boy who he
knew was no good for her.

Eden leaned against the bench. “So, is Brian
a good guy? Like, do you know? Cuz, I’m not hooked into the buzz
around town yet. I’m still new and I just, well, I just don’t know.
I heard he likes me.”

Shane picked up his sketch pad and a pencil.
He settled back in his chair, the one facing the window, the
sunlight and clear blue sky, and he began to draw. He could tell
her that every single Danvers was a no good son-of-a-bitch, except
he knew that would backfire. Hell, he was pretty damn sure that was
exactly what Travis Barker had told his daughter the first time
she’d brought him around the house.

Damn, Travis was right. Shane was a
son-of-a-bitch. But he was a son-of-a-bitch who loved his daughter
more than anything and he was going to do whatever it took to make
her happy. He was going to drive through and smash to pieces
whatever the hell it was that was bothering her.

He would do all of that this weekend because
Shane knew he couldn’t rest until things were settled and Bobbi was
his.

He glanced up at Eden.

But first he needed to be there for someone
else.

A pillow landing on her head wasn’t exactly
the way Bobbi envisioned waking up Sunday morning. In fact, a warm
arm wrapped around her stomach and attached to the man she loved
was more of what she was wanting.

Except things were complicated and on this
particular Sunday, she was home, in her old bed, under the faded
pink and white covers she’d had since she was sixteen. Pretty damn
pathetic.

“Hey, are you getting your ass out of bed or
what?”

Bobbi groaned and rolled over, squinting at
the clock that sat on her night table. “Betty, it’s six in the
morning.”

“I know. Happy fucking Easter.”

“Really? Do you have to be so crude first
thing in the morning?”

“Crude? This is me being nice. Happy if you
will.”

Bobbi rubbed her eyes and glanced toward her
sister. Betty leaned against the doorframe, dressed in jeans, a
crimson, low-cut stretchy top, and cowboy boots. Her long hair was
a tangled mess, her make up smudged and she smelled like a damn
brewery. Same old, same old.

Bobbi sighed. “Let me guess. Matt
Hawkins.”

“Nah, he’s old news.”

“So who then?”

“No one you would know. Get up. Let’s have
coffee and talk.”

Bobbi fell back onto the bed. “I don’t want
to talk.”

Betty tossed another pillow at her. “Who
gives a shit what you want? The fact that you’re here and not in
bed with Shane, tells me you need to talk. So I’m heading down to
make a pot of coffee and if you’re not there in like, ten minutes,
I’ll be back and trust me, it won’t be a pillow that lands on your
head either.”

“Go to hell,” Bobbi muttered into her
pillow.

For a moment there was nothing.

“I’m already there, but that doesn’t mean you
have to join me.”

And then she was gone.

Bobbi heard a toilet flush down the hallway
and knew it was Gramps. He was always up at this time for a morning
pee, but he’d be back to bed and asleep within minutes. You could
set your watch by Herschel’s schedule and she knew he wouldn’t be
fully awake until nearly nine in the morning with her father on his
heels.

Shivering, Bobbi pulled the blankets up a
little higher. She was cold because she was alone in the bed.
Tired, because she wasn’t used to sleeping alone, and upset because
she knew that she couldn’t hide the truth from Shane any longer. If
they were to have a chance at a future she needed to come
clean.

She had spent all afternoon the day before,
baking with Billie, while Betty watched more than helped. By the
time eight o’clock rolled around, Betty had left for the night and
she’d sent Billie back to Logan while she stayed behind to clean
up.

The two girls hadn’t discussed Billie’s
pregnancy. First off, Betty had been around for most of the day and
for whatever reason, the two girls weren’t exactly friendly.
Secondly, Bobbi wasn’t sure if she had the emotional backbone to
deal with her sister’s crisis right now. Things with Shane were
still way too fresh in her mind. That morning was still too fresh
in her mind.

I love you
. Those were his words. The
ones she had wanted to hear long before she’d realized it herself.
And what had she done?

She’d cried like a baby.
Cried
.

“Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

She’d called him the night before and told
him she’d be over later. She had made up some bullshit excuse about
why she needed to stay longer, it had rambled and she knew he
wasn’t fooled. Bobbi had lied to Shane. She’d told him to go to bed
and she’d wake him up when she got in.

Lies.

How could she go back to his place when it
meant that she would have to spill her guts? And she would have to
spill because she knew that there was no way in hell she could
sleep with Shane…let him touch her and make love to her the way
he’d done this morning, until he knew the truth about
everything.

And for one more selfish night, Bobbi had
avoided dealing with her lies. She’d avoided it like the coward she
had always been and instead of going to Shane, she’d texted him.
She had told him she was too tired and that she would see him for
dinner Sunday.

He was still hers, at least for now.

Bobbi glanced at the clock and with a groan
threw the pillows and the covers off. She grabbed an old, faded
robe, pulled it on over her pajamas and made her way
downstairs.

The smell of coffee wafted in the air as she
walked into the kitchen and she spied Betty at the table, a mug in
her hands.

“There’s one for you already poured.”

Bobbi grabbed her coffee and sat down across
from her sister, sipping from her mug as the silence in the room
ate her up.

“So,” Bobbi said. “Where did you go last
night?”

Betty arched an imperial eyebrow. “Really?
We’re gonna play nicety-nice-nice? You don’t give a shit where I
went last night, but I sure as hell want to know why you’re here
and not with Shane.” She paused, and her voice was gentle when she
continued. “Did you tell him?”

Bobbi shook her head. “No, but I have
to…tonight.”

Betty took a sip of her coffee. “Are you
sure? Maybe it’s something that should just be. I mean, it
happened. It sucked but what’s the point now? What is that saying?
Let sleeping dogs lie?”

Bobbi stared into her cup and nodded. “I have
to, Betts. I can’t sleep next to him knowing it was me who ruined
his life, you know?”

“Ruined his life?” Betty shoved her chair
back so hard that the table moved and Bobbi’s coffee swished
dangerously close to the edge of her cup. “How the hell did you
ruin his life? From where I’m standing his life looks pretty
fucking awesome. He’s not sitting in some cell with a three hundred
pound convict staring at his ass. He’s still got his friends, his
family and most importantly, he’s got you.”

“It’s not that simple, Betty. I lied to him
about the baby. I let him believe…” she couldn’t finish her
sentence and took a moment. “Because of those lies, those nasty,
awful things I told him, he gave up on everything.” Her fingers
were tight around the cup. “He gave up on all of his dreams. He
could have gone to that fancy art college in New York.”