Finaly My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me Book 2) (13 page)

"You can get it started," he said.

Brock nodded as he caught the keys. "Good seeing you, Emily," he said.

I agreed and waved at him, and he took off for the truck. Shane and I walked to the end of the porch where we were out of sight of both his brother and my family. He took me into his arms and I went willingly. I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist and rested my forehead on his chest. His arms came gently around me, one of his hands resting on my upper back and the other on my head. He pulled me closer to him in a gentle embrace that sent waves of pure joy cascading over me.

"I'm sorry about Thomas," I said. "I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Are you kidding?" he said. "Everybody needs a Thomas in their life. If you're referring to him saying I was your boyfriend," he continued, reading my mind… "You should know I paid him to do that."

I pulled back to look at him. "What?"

He laughed. "I'm kidding, but I didn't mind him saying it. Maybe if I can get Thomas on my side, he'll help your dad warm up to me."

"My dad doesn't dislike you," I said. "He's just really protective right now."

"I know he is. I can't blame him. The timing's not perfect."

"It is for me," I whispered.

He leaned back to stare down at me with a gorgeous, easy smile. "Well, then it is for me too."

Chapter 16

It was impossible for me to reconcile my current position. Literally years of my adolescence were spent imagining what it would be like to be held by Shane Rollins, and there I was.

It was happening at that very moment.

He was looking down at me with a loving expression that made me feel weak. It was chilly outside, and I shivered a little as I snuggled up to him. His hand on the back of my head, and he absentmindedly ran his thumb along my hairline. "I'm sorry for what it took to get you that way, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you're unattached."

"I'm glad you're glad," I said.

He gave me a squeeze. "I better let you get back inside," he said.

I nodded. "Thank you for coming." I thought about how there were four more days between now and my birthday, and without thinking, I said, "It's too bad you can't come by tomorrow."

"I'm glad you think so, because I was thinking the same thing. I'm finding it really difficult to let you go right now. Plus, it'd be a shame not to see you on Christmas."

I shook my head with a serious expression, but I was being playful when I responded with, "Yeah, we really shouldn't let that happen, huh?"

He smiled at me. "We'll be spending the day at my parents' house, but I'd love to come by sometime tomorrow afternoon if that's an invitation."

"It most certainly is."

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"I guess so."

He was a head taller than me so I was staring up at him as we spoke. He looked at me the way a man looks at a woman when he wants to kiss her.

"Shane?"

"Yes Emily?" he said, smiling.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

He turned his face and cleared his throat, stifling a laugh, and then looked at me as if holding back a grin. "I can't think of many things I've wanted more," he said.

"Are you waiting for me to tell you it's okay?" I asked.

"I guess I was just assuming it wasn't okay yet. You know, with everything you've had going on."

"You're wrong," I whispered.

He leaned in, tilting his ear toward me so I could say it again, "What'd you say?"

"You're wrong," I repeated.

"I hope I'm not confused in thinking you gave me permission to kiss you just now," he said, "because that's exactly what I'm about to do."

"I did give you permission," I said.

I barely got out the words before he cupped his hand around my cheek and leaned down to put his lips on mine. He was barely touching me, but I had spent so many years being so thirsty for him that I felt like he was being poured into me, filling me to overflowing with love, and relief, and happiness. Nothing had ever felt so natural. Our lips touched delicately once, twice, three times before he pulled back to stare at me again. I felt the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath in and then out.

"You're going to be stuck with me if you don't watch yourself, " he said.

I wanted to tell him I was perfectly okay with being stuck with him. I wanted to say,
please, please, please let me be stuck with you
, but instead I just made a silly face as if he was joking.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I said.

"Yep," he said.

He leaned over again and gave me another kiss, this time our lips gently lingered there for a few seconds. We were both smiling when we stopped and pulled back.

"Okay, I'm letting you go and I'm walking away," he said, with great reluctance.

"Okay," I said giggling a little.

We broke contact, and I headed for the house as he went toward his truck. My whole family was still in the living room staring at me when I walked in the door. I really did try to hide my smile, but I just couldn't do it. It spread across my face uncontrollably.

"Emily's smiling because she likes Shane," Thomas announced.

"I think she does," Micah said.

"Leave her alone you two," Mom said.

I crossed to sit in my spot on the couch.

"You still have that bruise on your face," Thomas said.

I stared at him, still smiling, but with wide eyes. "Thanks a lot for reminding me, Thomas."

"Robin did that," he said.

"Emily knows who did it," my dad said.

"Shane would never do that to you," Thomas added, shrugging.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

Thomas shrugged again as he absentmindedly scratched Roscoe. "I just know."

***

The next morning I woke up to Thomas bursting in my room. It took me a second to register that it was Christmas morning and as soon as I did I knew why he was so pumped. He loved Roscoe so much that my parents broke down and got him a dog. For the last two days, it had been at the neighbor's house, and Thomas knew nothing about it.

"Good morning it's Christmas!" he announced, opening my blinds.

I squinted and threw my arm over my eyes to shield the light.

"Get up, sleepyhead. You need to come downstairs and see my Christmas present!"

"I already saw it," I said.

"Whaaat?" he asked in utter disbelief. "Micah already saw him too! How did everybody see him besides me?"

"Because he was a surprise for you."

"He did surprise me. He was wrapped up in a box and I had to unwrap him, and he was moving around in there."

"What'd you name him?" I asked, standing up and wrapping a robe around my shoulders for warmth.

"Roscoe number two."

"Seriously?" I asked.

He smiled. "I wanted to, but Mom said Roscoe number one might get confused, so I had to think of another name."

"What'd you think of?"

"Fuzzy."

"You named him Fuzzy?" I asked.

He nodded proudly, and I smiled. "I think Fuzzy's a great name."

"Yeah, because he's fuzzy," he said.

"Exactly."

Thomas had left his puppy downstairs and couldn't wait any longer to see him again, so he took me by the arm and drug me down to meet him. Dad already had a fire going in the fireplace, and everyone (besides Mom who was already cooking) was sitting around the living room in their pajamas watching Roscoe and Fuzzy get acquainted. Fuzzy was smaller than Roscoe, but I knew he wasn't a puppy. My parents didn't want to have to deal with teething and potty training, so they had gotten him from the same shelter where Carly got Roscoe.

We spent the whole day eating, playing games, playing with the dogs, watching TV, and just chilling as a family. Carly's mom and stepdad came over for lunch and stayed a while during the early afternoon. They were really easy to be around and meshed well with our family. A few of Micah's friend's—two brothers and another friend who played music with him at church, called that afternoon to see if they could stop by, and he told them to come on over. Carly and I were in the backyard watching them toss the football when I got a text from Shane.

Shane: "I was thinking about coming over if you're up for it. No worries if you guys are busy."

Me: "I want you to come. I'm just sitting in the backyard watching my brother and his friends play football."

Shane: "Okay if I bring Brock?"

Me: "Thought you would."

Shane: "Be there in 30 minutes or so."

I sent a text back with emojis of a heart, a smiley face, and a Christmas tree before stashing my phone in my back pocket. I thought about going inside so I could watch for him to show up, but I stayed out back, figuring my parents would show him how to get back there.

My brother was tossing the football with Nick, Jacob, and Elliot when Shane and Brock arrived, and he instantly roped them into a 3 on 3 game. I barely even had the chance to tell them hello before Micah waved them into the yard and began choosing teams. I wondered how Shane and Brock would react to being forced into a game, but they seemed eager to go out there.

They played for about an hour, laughing, ribbing each other, and just being guys. Robin would have never joined in on a game of backyard ball, and I caught myself having long-term thoughts about Shane as I watched them. I imagined this becoming a yearly tradition.

Shane was a good athlete. He easily threw and caught the ball, and maneuvered nimbly through the opposing team's defenses. Carly and I had a great time watching them. Thomas was in and out and cheered for them some but was mostly preoccupied with Fuzzy.

Once the game was over, the teams dispersed. Nick, Jacob, and Elliot went in the house along with Brock to see if they could get their hands on some of my mom's leftovers. Micah motioned for Carly to meet him in the yard so he could toss the ball with her, and Shane came over to sit with me on the porch. It was the first time I had spoken to him since he arrived, and my stomach flipped as he made his way toward me smiling.

"You didn't know you were going to get pulled into a game of football," I said, smiling.

I could see as he got closer that his cheeks were flushed from exertion, and it looked great on him. What could be more gorgeous than dark hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks? He had on jeans and a thin black jacket that he unzipped as he settled beside me. As soon as he sat down, he looked at me with a smile, and before I knew what was happening he reached over and kissed me on the forehead as if that was the normal thing to do when sitting next to me.

"I thought it was fun," he said, getting back to my original statement about playing football. I was so stunned by his casual display of affection that I was speechless for a few seconds.

"You're good at it," I said, finally.

"I played football in high school," he said. "I wasn't bad, but Brock was the man. He made all-state two years."

"You made all-state," Brock said, coming onto the porch with a mouth full of food.

"Just my senior year," Shane said.

Brock pointed at the siding glass door he'd just come through. "Do you want me to grab you some fudge," he asked.

"Of course I want fudge." Shane said.

Brock started to head back in the house, but turned to look at me. "Want some?"

I shook my head. "I'm good. I already had two or three pieces."

We stayed out on the porch for a few minutes before Micah and Carly finished playing catch, and we all joined the others in the house. Thomas loved having a house full of people, and he went around introducing Fuzzy to all of them. All the guys went into living room to watch TV, and the girls gravitated to the kitchen. Mom made a pot of coffee, and we sat around talking. I told her I wanted to volunteer at the happy house, and we talked about coordinating my days and curriculum with Trish's. Mentioning Trish made me ask Carly again about me seeing Shane and whether or not it would be awkward. I wasn't sure why I brought it up, though, because at this point, it was too late.

We sat in the kitchen with mom for a while before Carly and I went into the living room to join the boys who were watching a boxing movie on television. Carly crossed in front of the coffee table and sat directly on Micah's lap without hesitation. I watched, wishing I could do the same thing with Shane. My body was aching with the need to touch him in any capacity—even just to reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.

My dad was sitting in the recliner. Micah and Carly were on one end of the sectional, and Brock and Shane were on the other. The other three guys were sprawled out, two on the love seat, and one on the floor. I thought I would sit on the floor near Shane's legs the way he had done to me the night before. I went over to them with every intention to do that, but he wouldn't let me sit on the floor. He told his brother to scoot over and pulled me into the seat next to him. I wasn't on his lap, but I was sitting close enough to touch him, which was a relief to my senses.

I glanced at my dad who was eying us curiously but didn't say anything. I sat there for a while watching TV, but not actually seeing what was on the screen. I thought it might be one of the Rocky movies, but I couldn't care less about it. All I knew was that I was completely comfortable and content to sit around with my family—especially right next to Shane.

"I was thinking you could come back to my parents' house with me for a little bit," he said after we had been sitting there a while.

"Today?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

He smiled at my surprise. "Why not? I told them we would come back and I would try to bring you with me."

"You did? Why?"

He laughed. "Because I want them to meet you."

"I can't go over there with this," I said, pointing at my cheek.

"Shane already told them about that," Brock said, overhearing our conversation.

"Are you serious?" I asked, looking at Shane.

He shrugged. "I was telling them about you, and they said they wanted me to bring you over today. I told him you got busted up a little bit and probably wouldn't want to, and they said to make you come anyway." He was smiling and I had no idea if he was serious.