A Thousand Miles

Part 20

"I enjoyed meeting your dad." JoLynn turned the key in the lock, pushed her apartment door open, and stepped inside.

    "Well," he said quietly, letting the door close softly behind him. "Thanks for going with me. I apologize for the Nietzsche comment. It was uncalled for."

    Shane had been quiet on the drive back to Austin. The Nietzsche comment had been the last thing of substance he'd said before his silence had fallen. The remark had come seemingly from nowhere, and the bitterness behind it had stunned her to silence. Tears had filled his father's eyes. He obviously felt bad about it. JoLynn turned to face him.

    "I thought I detected a little anger toward God back there."

    He smiled ruefully. "Maybe just a little."

    "Do you want to talk about it?"

    He shook his head and stepped closer, taking one of her hands. "We'll work it out."

    What happened tonight troubled him. He was angry with God, and she understood. Losing his mother as a child, being beaten so severely, and now his father's failing health...No, his anger wasn't surprising.

"I wish I could have met your dad before his stroke."

    Shane nodded and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. The touch sent a shiver coursing through her. "Me, too. You would have really liked him."

    "I like him now," she said softly.

    He nodded. "I know. But he's different now. Before, he was...he was..." His voice trailed off and he ended with a shrug. "I don't know. Reading the Bible all of a sudden. That's not who we are. You know? I mean, I understand if that's your thing, or you find comfort in it...Or if you want to thank The Almighty when things are good. But...It's not like him."

    He looked down at her hand. Traced a path across her knuckles, then took her other hand and smiled. "He liked you. If he could talk he'd tell me how much he adores you."

    "He just met me today, and we didn't even spend an hour with him." JoLynn smiled and let her eyes drift closed for a brief moment as he gently pushed her hair away from her face and over her shoulder. "How could he possibly adore me?"

    "I adore you." His voice warmed her. "And that's all the reason he needs."

    He pressed a warm, soft kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek. And though the sensation of it sent delicious shivers swirling through her, this contact felt like a diversion. He'd admitted to being angry at God, but didn't want to talk about it. He found it difficult to express how he felt about the changes in his father since the stroke. This was probably his way of changing the subject.

    "Do you want something to drink? Some tea?"

    He shook his head and took her into his arms, pulling her close. "No."

His mouth covered hers and she melted, letting her arms slide around him. Such a sweet diversion. The muscles in the lean, broad expanse of his back twitched and tensed under her touch. She breathed him in, savoring the scent of his cologne, and the sensation of his hands cradling her face, stroking her hair.

Shane pulled her closer and deepened his kisses, guiding her toward the sofa, and then down onto it. He pushed her long hair behind her shoulder, and trailed warm moist kisses along the flesh of her throat, into the hollow where her neck met her shoulder, slowly pushing aside the fabric of the cotton blouse she wore over her tank. Her head swam, and every nerve tingled as he continued to kiss and caress. His fingertips brushed her shoulders as he eased the blouse away and down her back. The sensation stole her breath.

Have mercy! As much as she wanted, in this moment, to let this encounter go where he was taking it, she couldn't. It didn't feel right after leaving his father's nursing home room, with Shane is such an agitated state of mind. He was still so deeply angry and confused concerning all the why's of his past. Although this might take his mind off all those things for a brief time, it would only create other problems and more confusion. For both of them. "Shane, wait—"

"Shhh," he whispered into her ear. "I just want to see your tattoo."

A smile curved her lips. "Well, that sounds a bit like a line."

"It's nothin' but the honest truth."

She let her eyes drift closed as he kissed her softly again.

"Come on, JoLynn." His low, soft voice teased her. "Let me see it. Please?"

She freed her arms from the blouse he'd dislodged, and then turned her back to him.

The tank top she wore partially concealed the ink on her shoulder, and the heat from his hand seared her flesh as he pushed the fabric aside for a better look, burning the sensation into her memory.

For a moment there was only silence.

She turned her head toward him. "Do you like it?"

He took in a deep breath. "It's a work of art."

The warmth of his mouth made her skin quiver when he pressed a kiss to the spot on her shoulder occupied by the yellow rose. His fingertips blazed a trail down her bare arms, and he turned her around to face him, pulled her against him as he reclined. His gaze took in every line and curve of her face, and he raised a hand to stroke her hair.

"I love you, JoLynn," he said softly.

Tears welled and her throat constricted. He sounded like the sentiment had taken him by surprise. She smiled, nearly laughed. And well it should. Who would have thought, after the beginning they'd had, that friendship, let alone love would ever exist between them? Who could have possibly foreseen that what had seemed like the end of her career—her dream, would end up enhancing her career, expanding her dream, and filling the giant hole in her heart? He'd been her worst enemy two months ago. Her biggest adversary. Her nemesis.  Now, he loved her.

    "I love you, too."

    His smile widened, and she nestled beside him, into the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady, strong beat of his heart, as she gave her heart to him. Completely.