Page 8 of Wide Open Spaces


  “You’re annoying.”

  “Shelby.”

  “Where are the kids? Shouldn’t you be home with them?”

  “I’m ten feet away from where I was when I came out on my deck. If they need me, they can come out and get me. Now talk to me.”

  Taking a drink from the bottle in my hand, I sit back and sigh. “Fine. When the bear broke into the house, Hunter sent pictures to Max then told him about helping you release the bear. Max flipped out and told me that he was going to take Hunter from me for putting him in danger,” I say softly, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

  “Do you guys have a custody agreement?” he asks, taking the bottle from my hand, putting it to his lips, and tipping it back. My stomach flips from the mere intimacy of the act, and it takes a lot of concentration to answer his question.

  “N-no, we just agreed verbally that Hunter would live with me.”

  “Custody wasn’t discussed during your divorce?” He frowns, and I shake my head then nod.

  “It was, but the judge agreed that since we already had an agreement in place that was working for us, we didn’t need to change it.”

  “Then you moved here.”

  “Then I moved here,” I agree.

  “My lawyer’s good. She’s out of Anchorage, but comes into town to meet with clients. I’ll see if she’s available to talk. If not, I’ll help you find someone who is.”

  “Zach.” I swallow hard and close my eyes, wishing he would stop being nice. I can’t deal with him being nice to me.

  “Baby, he’s not going to take Hunter from you,” he says gently, reading me wrong, and I feel his hand rest on my thigh and tears prickle the back of my eyes.

  “You don’t know him. He will do everything he can to make it impossible for me to keep him. He has money and knows a lot of people.”

  “Look at me, Shel,” he commands softly, and I shake my head. “Please, baby, look at me.”

  Swallowing hard, I open my eyes and meet his. “Don’t give up before you’ve even started fighting.”

  “I’m not giving up. I will fight until my last breath,” I whisper, holding his eyes. “I will never give up, but I know him. I know how he gets when he’s made up his mind. I know he will beat me down until I have nothing left inside of me to fight with.”

  Concern and softness enter his eyes as he leans forward. “Then I guess it’s good I’m here to fight for you if that happens.”

  “Don’t say that.” I sit back, dislodging his hand. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

  “I thought you’d come home.”

  “What?” I frown, wondering what he’s talking about, and he moves closer, dropping his voice.

  “When you left, I thought you just needed time to clear your head. I thought you’d come home. Then one month turned into two, then two into three, and you didn’t come back, didn’t answer my calls. You left me here.”

  “We are not talking about that,” I breathe, panicking at the turn in conversation, the alcohol in my system wearing off far too quickly.

  “I was drinking and doing drugs. Doing everything I could to kill the pain you left me with,” he confesses, and I stare at him in disbelief.

  “You were fine. I think you proved that,” I hiss, and his face softens, but his eyes narrow in a way that causes me to brace.

  “You’re so fucking stuck in your head that you’re blinded by the shit you’ve told yourself.”

  “No, I just know you’re full of shit. You moved on, and it didn’t take long to do it either,” I remind him, but more so to remind myself.

  “I never moved on. I’m still stuck in the past, trying to figure out how to get back the girl I let get away.”

  “Stop.” I pull my eyes from his. I can’t do this. Not now, not while everything else around me is up in the air, not when I feel so completely vulnerable.

  His hand moves to my jaw and my eyes turn toward him. “Why’d you come back?”

  “I told you why.” I feel my jaw tighten.

  “You did. You said this was where you were happy.”

  “Gramp—”

  “No,” he cuts me off, taking a hold of my chin, locking his eyes with mine. “We were happy. You and I were happy.”

  “And then we weren’t,” I grit out, and his gaze drops for a moment and his hand moves from my chin to the back of his neck, squeezing.

  “You’re right. At the end, we weren’t happy. We were heartbroken over Samuel, and neither of us knew how to process that grief,” he says to his lap, then lifts his eyes to meet mine once more. “But we didn’t hate each other. Didn’t end things ugly. There was a lot of pain between us, but there was also a lot of love.”

  “You…” I close my eyes, needing to get my thoughts in order, which seems impossible to do when he’s sitting in front of me, saying what he’s saying. “You moved on,” I repeat, feeling my heart break all over again. I loved him. I loved him, and he moved on.

  “I didn’t.”

  “You got someone else pregnant and married them. You moved on,” I say louder, and he shakes his head and looks away for a moment.

  “I did, and I’m sorry to say this, ’cause I know it’ll burn, but I don’t regret what happened between Tina and me, and I never will regret it, because I got two amazing kids who I love with everything in me out of what happened between us. That doesn’t mean I don’t regret losing you.”

  “That was supposed to be us!” I yell, balling my hands into fists, wishing I had kept those words locked away. Wishing I didn’t just cut myself wide open in front of him, exposing everything I’ve kept protected for so long. “That was supposed to be us,” I repeat softly, moving my eyes from him to look at the trees beyond us.

  “Could you ever regret having Hunter?” he asks gently, and my body stills as my eyes fly to his.

  “Never.” I clench my jaw.

  “I know you couldn’t. There’s no way you could. So how can you expect me to regret Aubrey and Steven?” Swallowing, I squeeze my eyes closed. He’s right. I know he’s right. I know that if I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have Hunter, and he probably wouldn’t have Aubrey or Steven, and I would never want him to regret them. “I know you don’t want me to regret them, and I know you don’t want to believe me, but not going after you is my biggest regret.”

  “Stop.” I try to move away from him, but he stands and puts his hands on either side of me, forcing me to stay put. “It’s the truth. Every day since you left, I’ve lived with the knowledge that I didn’t fight for us, that I didn’t try to find a way to make you want to stay, that I didn’t go to you and make you come home.”

  “Who knows what would have happened to us if I stayed, or if I came back?” I whisper, then feel his hand slide over mine and down my ring finger.

  “You’re right. We’ll never know what would have happened, but you need to know I didn’t just move on. I didn’t just stop loving you,” he says quietly, as his hand slides up my arm and around the back of my neck. His lips touch mine softly, so very softly that I’m almost not sure it happened before they’re gone and he’s standing a few feet away. “I’m gonna leave through the front. Lock the door when you go in.”

  Then he disappears into my room, sliding the door closed behind him. I don’t know how long I sit out there, thinking about everything he said after he leaves, but by the time I go in, a million stars are littering the darkness above me.

  Aubrey

  “Steven,” I call into my brother’s dark room, after shutting the door behind me. “Steven.” I move closer to his bed then trip over something and almost fall on my face, catching myself at the last second before I hit the ground.

  “What the hell are you doing in here, Bre? Get out,” Steven gripes, and I roll my eyes then feel around for the lamp I know is next to his bed and turn it on. “What the fuck?” he shouts, and I jump on him, covering his mouth while looking at the door.

  “Don’t wake up Dad.”


  “Get off me,” he growls from under my hand, trying to push me away, but I hold on tighter, as tight as I can, but he’s always been stronger than me, so it takes a lot of strength to keep my hold.

  “I have to tell you something!” I cry, when he dislodges my hand and shoves me away.

  “It’s…” He looks at the clock. “It’s after midnight. What could you possibly have to tell me right now?” He narrows his eyes, and I lick my lips, wondering if I should tell him what I want to tell him. He loves our mom like a lot, and I know he always takes her side on everything, but I don’t have anyone else I can possibly tell. “Bre, talk or get out now.”

  “Dad’s in love with Shelby,” I squeak, and his brows dart together.

  “What?”

  “Dad’s in love with Shelby, and he’s been in love with her forever.”

  “So?”

  “What do you mean ‘so?’” I shout, then cover my mouth and listen for any sign that my dad heard me.

  “I mean so, who cares?” He shrugs, lying back down and reaching for the light.

  “You don’t care?” I whisper, rubbing my hands together. His hand pauses as his eyes move back to me.

  “No,” he mutters, then turns off the light, casting the room back to complete darkness.

  “Why hasn’t Dad ever had a girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know and don’t care, Bre. Now go away.”

  “Dad’s still in love with her, and he has been forever. He said he regrets never going after her when she left.”

  “He told you that?” His tone is filled with disbelief, and I hear the bed move then light fills the room.

  “No, not me. He told her that.”

  “What?” Taking a seat at the end of his bed, I wrap my arms around my waist and bite my lip. “Bre,” he growls.

  “I went to talk to Dad, but he was outside with her and they were talking. I heard our names, so I listened to what they were saying. He told her that he regrets not going after her and bringing her back here. He told her that he didn’t move on and didn’t stop loving her.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you mean ‘okay?’” I cry, throwing out my hands.

  “I just mean okay.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what you want me to say. So what? Dad’s in love with her. Who cares?”

  “I want Dad to be happy,” I whisper. “She doesn’t want to give him a chance. We have to make her give him a chance.”

  “Bre.” He rubs his face and groans.

  “Please, Steven.”

  “What do you want us to do?” He tosses his hands up in the air. “Seriously, Bre, what can we do?”

  “I don’t know, but there has to be a way to make her see that Dad is a good guy and make her fall in love with him too.”

  “You’re crazy, Bre. You can’t make people fall in love.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you to help me,” I mumble, wishing I had friends that I could talk to about this.

  “I’m not saying I won’t help. I just don’t know what we could possibly do.”

  “You’ll help me?” I breathe, studying him to see if he’s lying.

  “I want Dad to be happy too.” He rolls his eyes.

  Jumping up, I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. “I’ll come up with a plan.” I smile, hopping away before he can shove me off, and then leave his room quietly to go back to bed, where I had been for the past four hours trying to figure out how to get Shelby to fall in love with my dad.

  Chapter 6

  Zach

  Ringing the doorbell, I listen to the sound of the chime. From outside, the shit sounds horrible, so I can’t imagine what it’s like when you’re inside the house. Waiting a few minutes, I look at my watch then back to the door. It’s only seven, but it’s also Friday, so Shel should be up getting ready for work, since the bank opens at nine. Then again, if she continued to drink last night after I left her, she may be suffering from a killer hangover.

  After knocking once more and still getting no answer, I pull my keys out of my pocket and sift through them until I find the one Pat gave me years ago. I debate using it to let myself in for a second. “Fuck it,” I mutter, sliding the key into the lock and turning it. I know instantly that she didn’t lock it the night before when it doesn’t click over.

  Pushing inward, I step into the dark house and go to the security system’s panel on the wall, seeing she didn’t even set the alarm either. “Shelby, baby, I’m going to spank your ass.” I shake my head as I walk down the hall toward the back of the house, and find the door to the bedroom there open wide. She’s still asleep. Glancing around the room, I find the curtains are drawn, along with the blinds over the sliding door, sending the room into almost complete darkness.

  Stepping toward the bed, where she’s sleeping on her belly with her hand tucked under her cheek, her leg thrown out of the covers, I take her in for a second. Her heavy mane of hair is covering half her face. Sliding it back over her shoulder I bend close, putting my mouth near her ear. “Shelby, wake up.”

  “I’m sleeping,” she mumbles, batting her hand out in my direction and missing before tucking it back where it was.

  “You need to get up. We have a meeting with my lawyer in an hour,” I say softly, wishing I could wake her with my mouth and hands on her.

  “What?” Even in her sleep, it looks adorable as her brows draw together and her lips form a pout. Running my finger between her brows, I repeat my words. “We have a meeting with my lawyer. You need to get up and get ready.”

  “What?” she repeats, opening one eye.

  “Get up, baby.”

  Blinking both eyes open, she looks at me then looks around. She rolls to her back and sits up suddenly, causing the blanket to fall to her waist, giving me a glimpse of her breasts, which are visible through whatever the fuck kind of lace shit she has on. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you, we have to meet with my lawyer.”

  “How did you get into the house?” She frowns, looking at the door to the deck then back at me.

  Feeling all humor leave me, I place my hands on the bed on either side of her and lean in close until my face is an inch from hers. “You didn’t lock the fucking door last night.”

  “What?” she breathes, and I feel that word spoken against my lips as her head tilts back and her sleepy eyes move over my face before dropping to my lips.

  I wish I could put my mouth on hers, but I know that would not go well. Not yet anyway. “You didn’t lock up last night.” I lean back and she blinks.

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did.” She narrows her eyes, and I let out a breath. It was pointless to argue with her years ago, when she thought she was right, and I see now that hasn’t changed.

  “You need to get up.” I stand back, and her eyes narrow further.

  “I locked the door last night, Zach,” she hisses, leaning forward. Apparently not done arguing with me, even though I’m not taking the bait and arguing back, because it’s fucking pointless to do so.

  “Fine, you locked it. Just make sure you continue to lock it, and while you’re at it, you need to set the alarm at night.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps, jumping out of bed. That’s when I get the full effect of what she’s wearing—thin straps around her shoulders, dark blue, almost black, sheer lace covering her breasts, a silky cream material around her middle, and the same dark lace ending at mid-thigh. I don’t even think when I take a step toward her, or when I put my hand to her waist and feel the softness of the fabric under my palm.

  “Wh—”

  Tugging her into me, I use my free hand to catch her behind the head and cover her mouth with mine, ending whatever it is she was about to say. Her hands push against my chest as I wrap my fist in her hair and tighten my grip, but then they still as I lick over the seam of her lips. It doesn’t even take a second for her body to soften into mine and for her mouth to open, so my tongue
can slide in.

  Fuck, but the taste of her hasn’t changed a bit.

  Growling down her throat, I tilt her head farther back while running my hand down her side and over her ass, pulling her into me. My cock aches as her tongue spars with mine, her hands sliding up into my hair. Walking her back toward the bed, she whimpers into my mouth and I freeze, realizing what I’m doing.

  “Fuck.” I rip my mouth from hers. Her hands at my shoulders cling to my shirt, and her eyes slowly open as her chest moves rapidly. “We need to stop.”

  “Yeah,” she pants, dropping her gaze to my mouth.

  The look on her face and the look in her eyes is making it difficult as fuck not to continue leading her back to the bed we were headed a second ago. “Shelby.”

  “Yeah?” she breathes, pressing her breasts and soft body into mine making me groan in frustration.

  “You need to get ready.” I give her waist a squeeze.

  “Ready?” She blinks up at me, and I fight myself to let her go. To take a step back, knowing that if I don’t, this shit is going to be moving a lot faster than she is ready for.

  “Shower and get dressed. We have to meet my lawyer in”—I look at my watch—“forty minutes.”

  “Huh?” She looks around then back at me again, like she just realized where she is, who she’s with, and what just happened. “You were serious about that?”

  “Yeah, baby.” I fight to keep from laughing, wondering if she thought I said that shit just so I could come wake her up. “She’s in town. I sent her an e-mail last night, and she called me this morning and told me that if you want to meet, she has time today before she catches her flight back to Anchorage. Which is at eleven.”

  “Really?” she asks softly, staring up at me with wide eyes full of hope.

  “You’re making it hard not to kiss you again,” I tell her honestly, and her bottom lip disappears between her teeth as her eyes drop to my mouth once more. “Jesus.” My fists clench. “Get ready. I’ll make you some coffee.” I turn and leave the room quickly, knowing if I don’t, we won’t be leaving at all.

  Going to the kitchen, I start a pot of coffee and pour myself a cup when it’s done. I sit at the table and listen to the shower going on in the next room. Rubbing my hands down my face, I try to talk my dick down. Last night was not good. I didn’t plan on putting everything out there, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. When I left, I knew I had either fucked up beyond repair, or made her see things from my perspective.