***
Shane finished the last panel and laid his pencil down in relief. He rubbed his hand as he stood, flexing his wrist to get some blood circulation back into it. His fingers were practically numb from the sixteen-hour days he’d been logging lately trying to wrap up this one.
His agent had managed to negotiate an advance twice his usual one, and he needed the money in hand right now. The last and biggest part of the advance was payable upon receipt of final draft.
He was hungry, but headed to shower instead because he simply couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. That happened in the middle of every project, but usually not so close to the end.
At the end of a novel, Shane was usually iced and making tiny changes to individual panels. Nothing was tiny about what he’d just endured. It had been a flood of art on the page with every panel full of activity. Readers were going to be riveted and would have to spend considerable time figuring it out.
And he hadn’t been surprised to find Reesa’s character showing up in almost every panel. Boy was his hero crazy about the heroine based on her. It was almost as bad as his real-life feelings for the inspiration.
Shane snorted at his analysis of the feelings of his fictional characters, and then stopped to stare when he finally saw himself in a mirror over the bathroom sink.
“Holy shit, man—you seriously look like hell,” he said to his reflection, eyeing over a week’s growth of beard with mild shock.
Today, he really did look like his mother’s Viking ancestors with hair covering nearly every inch of his face. All he lacked was a fur-lined horned helmet and a chorus of opera singers performing “Flight of the Valkyries” in the background.
But he was already running behind, and he had promised Michael to help move marble pedestals into place at the gallery this afternoon, so there was no time for shaving. When he got around to it finally, it was likely going to be a two step process of trimming it down and then scraping it off. He had inherited the rapid hair growth thing from his father. Or maybe that was Nordic genes as well. No. There was just no time to get into all that required at the moment, Shane decided. Clean was the best he was going to manage today. Michael and Carrie would just have to be grateful he was taking time for a shower.
Besides, he was going to have more personal time now that the novel was done to start doing daily man maintenance and get into a new routine. He had to prepare for his dissertation defense next Friday, and his upcoming job orientation at the university. The job offer from them was made without meeting him in person, which Shane had no problem with for now. It was his publishing credentials they wanted more than him anyway, but Shane didn’t mind that either. He was going to surprise the research department at the medical center by being brilliant. Just like he was going to surprise Reesa with how mature he was despite the holey jeans and his tendency to not care what he looked like.
Shane stood under the shower and sighed at his crazy life which he was hoping to make even crazier over the next few months. If he’d been living with Reesa and the kids, they would never have let him overwork or do what he just did. They would have made him take breaks, eat, and prodded him into sleeping more than four hours a night.
With them, he would probably find a more civilized routine of getting things done. Or at least that was how Shane told himself it would go.
In the end, getting clean took a while anyway, and it wasn’t because thoughts of Reesa in the shower with him clouded his mind, though that was partially true. He missed her like hell, but knowing she was waiting for him was also a comfort as he had worked hard on his multiple projects tying up loose ends.
The shower took a while because it was hard to concentrate with Viking music playing in an endless loop in his head. Of course, his humming along with it bounced around the shower’s walls and made him laugh. He was tired and stupid with his fatigue, definitely needing about ten solid uninterrupted hours of sleep to catch up.
Shane rubbed his bristly face and wished he had time to shave. It might actually have made him feel better.
***
“
Aunt Teresa, you are not listening
,” Sara said, staring at her aunt and crossing her arms to show her displeasure.
Reesa looked in her rear view mirror at the little huffy looking blonde staring at her from the back seat. She reminded her so much of her sister that Reesa couldn’t answer for a moment. All she could do was stare and wonder if there was ever going to be a time when Sara
didn’t
remind her of April. Of the four children, Sara was the only one who wasn’t stamped with her father’s mahogany complexion. Instead, she was blonde and tanned looking, a condition April would have relished seeing manifested in her youngest daughter.
“I’m sorry, honey. You’re right. Aunt Teresa is still a bit distracted from her errands,” Reesa explained. “Do you remember Carrie? She was one of Shane’s family.”
Sara uncrossed her arms and adopted a thinking pose, tapping a finger on her lips. “Did she have hair like mine?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Reesa said, mildly surprised that Sara actually did remember. The kid never missed a trick and innately remembered nuances about people’s appearance. “We’re going to go see her. She may become my new boss.”
“Do you want a new boss?” Sara asked.
Reesa sighed. Did she want to work for Shane’s family? That was almost as bad as the deal her old place of business wanted to offer her. Not that she intended to honor Brent’s side request that she give up dating Shane as a contingency of coming back to work for them part-time. The head partner who had interviewed her had said nothing about her personal life, nor would she have allowed him such a personal comment.
Still, she knew Brent was in the man’s good graces. It would not take much negativity from Brent for all three partners to decide that she was more trouble than she was worth. She wouldn’t even be considering going back to any job where Brent was in control of her work, but it might just get the judge to rule in her favor if she showed a good steady income, even if she didn’t have all the money. That’s really all Reesa cared about at the moment.
“
Aunt Teresa, you did not hear me again
,” Sara said plaintively.
Reesa closed her eyes and sighed once more. “I’m truly sorry, Sara. I’m having a bad listening day. Look, we’re here. Hang in there just a little more for me—okay?”
Reesa watched Sara cross her arms again and stick her lip out in a pout. She didn’t even blame her. She felt like doing that herself, Reesa thought, swinging the van into the no parking zone directly in front of the address.
“Okay, Carrie said I could park right here for a few minutes. Stay buckled in until I come around to get you,” Reesa said, watching traffic and finally sliding out of the front seat to the street. She had to tug the tight skirt back into place and thought that buying a running board for the van would be a good investment.
When they walked into the gallery, Reesa was struck by the grandness of the space with its large open floor plan. There was a peacefulness here with its newly painted walls and floor, walnut benches, and large square columns rising out of nothing adorned with multiple paintings of nude women hung on them.
Sara was going to get an interesting education today, Reesa thought, sighing for the barrage of questions she anticipated when the five-year-old looked up later and figured out the people in the pictures above her head weren’t wearing any clothes.
Carrie came striding out of the conference room with a large smile. “Reesa, I’m so glad you’re here. Hi, Sara. Well—what do you think?”
She flung her hands up and gestured widely, which had Reesa laughing at Carrie’s obvious pleasure in the place.
“Where is all your furniture?” Sara demanded. “Houses are supposed to have furniture for people to sit.”
Carrie laughed at Sara’s pronouncement. “This is not a house, sweetie. It’s an art gallery.”
“What’s a
nart galley
?” Sara asked, wrinkling her face in confusion at the new term.
“
Art
g
allery
,” Reesa corrected.
“That’s what I said,” Sara replied. “You
are
having a bad listening day.”
Reesa sighed greatly but made no answer, her gaze suddenly captured by a door slamming in the distance and the sight of a giant shaggy man walking next to Michael carrying a stack of boxes up to his chin.
“Good heavens,” Reesa said, covering her mouth to keep from swearing at how awful Shane looked. His hairier than usual appearance had a huge dampening effect on the usual impulse she had to fling herself at him whenever he came into view.
Sara heard his voice talking to his brother, pulled loose from Reesa, and bolted across the room at a run, not waiting for permission.
Shane looked up from setting his load down and saw Sara running. Grinning broadly, he got down on one knee to catch her while Michael looked at him and shook his head.
Sara came to a skidding stop about two feet in front of Shane. She frowned and made a face.
“What’s wrong, Sara?” Shane asked, missing the full hug greeting he was used to getting from her.
“What’s the matter with your face?” she said, her gaze swinging to the man Shane had said was his brother. The man was laughing loudly now, and Shaney was looking at him very mean.
Shane rubbed his face with a hand. “I didn’t have time to shave today. Do I look that bad?” he asked.
Sara nodded. “You look scary,” she said. “Can you take it off?”
Shane sighed as Michael turned his back to laugh more. “Not right now. I’m sorry, honey. This is what happens when a person gets really busy,” he explained. “I’m still me. I just have a beard now. Men grow beards sometimes.”
Sara took a couple steps towards him. “Does it hurt? Can I touch it?”
“Certainly, and no—it doesn’t hurt,” Shane said softly, letting his hands drop to his sides as Sara inched cautiously forward. When he finally felt her tiny hands in his beard, his heart melted in relief.
“It feels scratchy,” she announced, turning and leaning against the knee that wasn’t bent completely.
Shane nodded, bracing himself to support her weight. “So am I too scary to hug?” he asked.
Sara leaned around his face and hugged him carefully, keeping her head away from his jaw. Shaney smelled like he always did, so she decided she wasn’t worried how he looked anymore.
Shane carefully hugged Sara back as his brother continued to snicker and smile at his efforts to reassure her.
“Sara, would it scare you if I chased my brother and beat him up a little for making fun of us?” Shane asked quietly.
Sara giggled and threw her arms around Shane completely, laughing when he stood and lifted her into the air.
“Bro, what did you do—read a hundred books about parenting or something?” Michael asked, still trying to deal with having seen the truly disappointed look on Shane’s face when the little girl had refused to come near him at first.
After seeing him with the older teenagers the other day, his brother’s love for the little girl was another eye opener to Michael about just how serious Shane was becoming about Reesa’s family. Oh, he didn’t doubt Shane loved and wanted the woman. It was just becoming more and more obvious that the woman wasn’t all his brother wanted.
“Michael, I’ll be back in a minute. Where’s your aunt, princess?” Shane asked, glancing around the mostly empty gallery only to see Carrie in conversation with a woman in a suit. Reesa was nowhere to be found. “Is she in the conference room?”
Sara giggled. “Are you having a bad day too?
Can you not see her
?” she laughingly asked, wondering if all the adults she knew were having a bad day.
Laughing at Sara’s answer, Shane walked forward with Sara still in his arms. He was halfway across the distance of the gallery when the woman in the suit lifted her head from what she and Carrie had been perusing.
Shocked, Shane froze about ten feet away from her as he tried to let his brain adjust to Reesa’s teal green suit with its short tight skirt and matching heels. The outfit showcased her body to perfection, but he sure hadn’t recognized her.
And he suddenly understood Sara’s utter shock at seeing him with a full beard. The same kind of context problem was happening to him. It was startling to see the business woman Reesa had told him she was brought from story into stark reality.
Even her hair was pinned up and back, held in place with a clip. Reesa was also wearing makeup, real makeup, not just the touch of mascara she usually wore. There was little of the casual woman he knew left in the polished professional in front of him.
Shane lowered Sara slowly to the floor and stared because he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“Hi, lady,” he said to Reesa. “I sure have missed you.”
Sara bounded over to Reesa and tugged on her hand.
“Don’t worry,” Sara advised her. “You can touch him. Shaney’s face is just scratchy.”
“Oh, I don’t know—his face looks pretty scary to me,” Reesa said, smiling at Sara to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Despite the crappy-looking facial hair, Shane still unnerved her with that direct look and sexy voice.