“Shawna—”
“Let me finish.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t believe you care about me. I’m past that and I do believe you. You’ve shown me that you do. But I’m afraid all this passion and intensity will fade and then you’ll realize that you made a mistake. What if you meet someone else the way you met me? Then you won’t want me anymore, and I’ll be alone with this ache inside of me that won’t go away. So how do I know that won’t happen again? How do you know?”
He looked at her as if she was crazy. “Because I love you, Shawna.” He said the sentence in such a way that the question How could you even ask me that? was implied. No hesitation on his part, no awkwardness. The words sounded natural, as if it had always been—never mentioned, but understood.
He came closer. “I think I fell in love with you the moment you smiled at me as we walked down Michigan Avenue. My feelings for you are real. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. It doesn’t matter to me that we’ve only had a few days together because you make me happy like no one else. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will again.”
She inhaled, suddenly aware that she’d been holding her breath for the latter part of his speech. Only now did she realize she’d been waiting for him to say those words—had needed to hear him say them. “I love you, too.”
He took one of her hands in his and drew her in, their faces close together. “You’re right, what’s between us isn’t normal. It’s better than normal. We can’t do normal. We just have to do us.”
Us.
“I don’t want to go through life without you,” he said softly.
“I don’t want to go through life without you, either.” Her fingers stroked his jaw. “I couldn’t bear it.”
****
Ryan sat in his truck outside Shawna’s building. At the moment, she and her staff worked at La Petite Robe, doing inventory and preparing for a weekend event where a local designer with a name he couldn’t pronounce would arrive to promote pieces from her line.
Shawna expected members of the media to be in attendance, and her best clients would go to the store early to rub elbows with the designer and get previews of the full collection. He’d promised to go by later and help her with anything she needed, even if only to move furniture around. He had to take care of this one little thing first, and now was the perfect time to do it while she was occupied at the store.
Last night, he’d cupped the back of her head and felt a bump there, and that’s when she’d told him the details of what happened between her and Jerome. He’d been furious. At Jerome, and even at himself for not fixing that damn deadbolt like he’d planned to. He’d been ready to go next door to Jerome’s townhouse, but she’d begged him not to.
“It’s not worth it. I’m fine,” she’d said, holding onto him when he’d charged toward the door. “Come upstairs with me. Wouldn’t you rather do that than go over there and confront him?” When he didn’t respond, she’d continued. “Please, let it go. For me? Don’t do anything stupid.”
He’d responded that he wouldn’t, and he hadn’t exactly lied to her. Yes, he’d promised not to do anything stupid, but this wasn’t stupid. This was the logical result of someone putting their hands on the woman he loved and causing her physical and emotional pain. He couldn’t let Jerome get away with what he’d done.
When a black BMW rolled by, he watched its progress in the rearview mirror. Jerome had arrived.
Ryan exited the truck. When he’d arrived earlier, he’d loosened the bulb on Jerome’s porch, darkening it in heavy shadows. Moving quickly and quietly, he was up on Jerome’s porch before the man even knew he followed him. By then it was too late.
He began to turn, but Ryan twisted his arm behind his back and grabbed his neck, shoving his face into the door.
Jerome began to sputter and shake. “Who—what—”