Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 (20 page)

He wouldn’t last long. The sight of her was just too erotic, her body open like this too sexy, and the grip of her channel too good. “Rub your clit. Gonna come for you soon. Want you to come too.”

Cyn slid her hand beneath her body and rocked back against him. “Harder, Shane…please?”

“Jesus—” God help him, he was lost to her. Gritting his teeth, Shane slapped his hips against her, drilling into her, unable to stop the sounds coming out of his mouth as he fucked her sweet ass hard and fast.

Shane’s name belted from Cyn’s mouth on a scream as she came and he followed right after.

“
Fuuuuckkk!
” His orgasm hit with a force hard enough to take him to his knees. Shane held tight to her hips and buried himself deep as his cock spurted in release over and over again inside her.

Out of breath, he fell over her and they both collapsed onto the mattress. He rolled them to their side and wrapped his arms around her. Cyn’s body shook against him as she breathed heavy, still trying to catch her breath too. Shane pressed his nose to her hair and held her tighter. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.” She shifted and Shane slipped from her channel— “Ohh! Mmm… You?”

“I’m perfect. But I think I need to grab you a towel.” He went to sit up and she held his arms to her chest.

“Don’t want you to move yet.”

“Whatever you need, girl.” Shane pressed a kiss to her shoulder and laid his head back down. Cyn rolled over and faced him, then pressed her face to his neck.

Happy to have her in his arms, he stroked through her hair and trailed his fingers down her back. Her skin had cooled from the sweat dampening it, and felt like silk beneath his fingertips.

Cyn had pushed him hard tonight, but he’d pushed right back. Like usual, their argument ended in sex, but tonight’s round had been the most intense out of all their encounters yet, and there had been so many to date, he’d lost count.

Shane listened to her breaths even out, feeling them tickle the skin of his neck as she fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to leave and tonight she’d pretty much made it clear she didn’t want him to stay.

In no way did he want to be where he wasn’t wanted, but he couldn’t shake the thought that things would be different if it hadn’t been for the attack. It’d been an unexpected interruption in what he felt was the beginning of a relationship between them. If he just held on, stood by her, they’d get through it together.

Regardless of the timing, Cyn already had his heart and he had no intention of taking it back. Their start together might’ve been a rocky one because of what she was going through, but in Shane’s eyes, when this was done, their foundation would be rock solid and stronger than anyone else’s he knew.

Coming through a war and emerging with your life intact meant a person had won. Cyn would come though this, with him by her side and they’d win. They’d have each other. Shane just hoped she’d see it his way…eventually.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S
hane stood in front of the paint sample rack at Home Depot debating on the perfect color. Sage? Coffee? He couldn’t decide. He’d gotten up that morning with a mission on his mind. That mission being Cyn’s living room—the room was getting a makeover.

As soon as Cyn had left the house for work, Shane was up and out the door. Maybe if he did a little face-lift, nothing too crazy, she’d feel comfortable going back in there. He had time to kill while she was at work anyway, so why not.

Hopefully Cyn would be happy about it and not pissed. Things had been a little calmer since dinner at Ryan and Maiya’s last week…resulting in a big fight followed by their rather energetic make-up plus anal sex, so he was hopeful.

Chances were she’d be pissed, but he was willing to take the risk because making her happy, even if it took a while, was worth it.

He glanced between the green-ish shade and the tan-ish one, and went with the sage—or Willow Leaf, the label said. Three gallons of satin would do the trick, plus some tinted primer and he was ready to go. On his way to the registers, he took a peek at the area rugs and found a perfect one with shades of red, tan and a darker green in the pattern. Wasting no time, he grabbed it.

Crown molding would be beautiful too, but there was no way he could fit that in before she got home from work. He’d called Joey to see if he was game to give him a hand, but like most people were doing, his best friend was working. He’d left him a message but for now, Shane was flying solo. Considering he only had eight hours, at best, to pull off a makeover miracle on his own, he needed to move his ass.

On the drive back to her house, he stopped by a small locally owned furniture store and made another snap decision on a new coffee table, end tables and a set of lamps. He eyed a new sofa, but figured he better not push it. When he got back to Cyn’s house, he unloaded the back of the SUV—thank fuck the backseats folded flat—and set everything in the garage.

Once in the house, Shane turned on the iPod dock and got to work. Kenny Wayne Shepherd’s “Slow Ride” came through the speakers, and Shane muscled the sofa and chair into the center of the room, and draped them in plastic. The existing coffee table and end tables, he moved to the garage, along with the one remaining lamp that hadn’t been broken in the struggle between him and Carlos.

Shane grunted at the memory as he came back into the house. Painter’s tape in hand, he taped off all the necessary areas and then laid plastic drop cloths down to cover the entire floor. Shane stretched and eyed the clock. Just past eleven a.m. Time to rock and roll.

Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be” started playing as Shane opened a can of primer and got the tray ready. Roller coated with paint, he started on the biggest wall, singing along with the lyrics. Then continued on to the other two. By one p.m. the room was primed and at the rate he was moving, he was so not going to make it. He worked fast, but prepping for paint took a long-ass time, plus that whole rolling thing. What he wouldn’t give for a sprayer. He probably should’ve rented one.

Shane grabbed a beer from the fridge while the primer dried. He leaned against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle, and wondered if he’d lost his damn mind. The doorbell rang, yanking him off the train to Crazyville. Shane set the beer on the counter, and turned the music down on his way to the front door, just in time for a knock to sound. “Hold your horses, I’m coming.”

Shane swung the door wide to find Joey standing there, clad in jeans and an old T-shirt, sunglasses pushed up to his forehead and a grin on his face. “I heard you need a little painting done.”

“Dude, seriously? I fucking love you right now.”

“And you’re gonna love me more when you see your present.”

“What’ja bring me, Daddy?” With a chuckle, Shane stepped out onto the front stoop.

“Only because you’ve been such a good boy. Follow me, my son.”

Shane walked with Joey to the back of his pick-up truck. His best friend dropped the tailgate to reveal an absolutely gorgeous paint sprayer. Shane looked over at Joey. “Marry me. For reals.”

“Sorry, already taken.” Joey cleared his throat and nodded.

“How about a kiss? Just a little one.”

Joey laughed. “Maybe later. Come on, help me grab this shit. I brought more drop cloths and a shield. You know how sprayers are, but I’m betting you’re more skilled with one than I am.”

Shane grabbed the sprayer. “Dude, seriously? Thank you.”

“No worries, man. That’s what family does. You just been away too long.”

Shane couldn’t peel the smile off his face and he swore he felt his heart actually swell behind his ribs. He rolled the sprayer into the house and went back out and grabbed the couple of buckets Joey brought too, while his best friend brought the remaining supplies inside.

Joey was awesome, but then again, he was a Donnelly. That’s how they were. Salt of the earth, truly. He set the sprayer up and glanced over at Joey. “Primer’s drying, but we’re close to ready to lay paint. You mind helping cut in?”

Joey looked around, hands propped on his hips. “I’m dressed for the occasion, just show me to the brushes, cowboy.” Right then, the first beats of Big & Rich’s “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” played through the iPod. Shane threw his head back and laughed. Joey shook his head, laughing too. “Yeah, that was too perfect. In a very fucking scary way.”

“No shit.” Shane tossed a brush Joey’s way. “No, you cannot ride me.”

“Don’t— Oh man, you went there.”

“Had to.” Shane filled two small containers with paint and handed one to Joey. “Pick a wall.”

Joey moved to the front wall with the picture window, and Shane turned the music back up and started on the wider back wall. It took them another hour and a half, nearly two, to cut in around each wall, and the front window. When they finished, Shane stood back and eyed their work. “Beer?”

“Uh, let me think about that for a second… Hell yes?” Joey set the container and brush down.

“Thought so.” Shane strode past him to the kitchen and grabbed two beers. Back in the living room, he handed one to Joey and eyed the sprayer. “You rent that?”

Joey tilted his bottle back, swallowed a generous amount, and then burped. “Yup.”

“Nice.” Shane chuckled and took a swig of his. He burped too but managed to contain the enthusiasm of it. “Better get this going. Meter’s running.”

“That was so ladylike.” Joey grabbed an empty bucket and filled it with the remaining three gallons of paint.

“Thank your mother for that.”

“Ha. Right?” Joey looked down into the bucket. “Damn, that doesn’t look like a lot of paint. You sure it’s enough?”

Shane ran his palm over the crown of his head. “Shit, I hope so. Tell you what, you want to go run and grab two more gallons, just in case?”

“I can do that. I’ll grab a pizza on the way back too.”

“I’ll get you back on all that.” Shane set the bucket up with the sprayer and started priming the line. “Cool?”

“All good, brother. Be back in a bit.”

“Thanks.” Shane eyed the clock. It was just after three thirty. Jesus this was going to be close. Hopefully she’d work late. Just as he got ready to pull the trigger on the sprayer, his phone beeped with a message. Shane grabbed it out of his pocket.

It was a text from Stephanie, Joey’s wife.

Stephanie Donnelly:
Shane, it’s Steph. Operation delay Cyn is in effect. I’m heading to the office at 4:30 to distract her into taking Madi for ice cream with me. ;-)

Shane:
Have I told you that you’re an angel?

Stephanie Donnelly:
Yes, but please be sure to remind Joey, okay? LOL

Shane:
Done! Thanks, Steph.

Stephanie Donnelly:
No thanks needed. It’s what we do for family.

Shane smiled down at the screen of his phone. Joey was a lucky man. But Shane was lucky too, if only…he shook his head. “If only” was a deathtrap. A lot like an I.E.D: improvised explosive device…an unidentifiable object on the side of the road in Iraq that could have a bomb in it or just someone’s clothes—basically something he should stay the hell away from or approach with extreme caution because the risk was far too extreme.

His girl might be extreme, but she
was
worth it, and because he knew that, he couldn’t stay away.

Shane raised the sprayer and laid the first coat of paint over the wall. With even sweeps he had the largest wall coated in a matter of fifteen minutes. He stood back, checked to see he hadn’t missed anything. Pleased, he moved to the next.

By the time he’d finished all three walls, Joey sauntered in, pizza box in hand. “Delivery! Oh, hey, that looks fucking awesome!”

Shane wiped the sweat from his brow. “Thanks! You get the paint or just the pizza?”

“Pfft, bitch, please.” Joey walked to the kitchen but returned empty-handed. “No, no, I see you got your hands full, deary. I’ll grab the paint.” He winked and disappeared outside.

Shane grinned and set the spray gun down. His stomach rumbled and he moved to the kitchen. After washing his hands, he grabbed a couple paper plates and two slices.

“Aw, you can’t even wait for me? I’m so hurt.” Joey grabbed a couple slices for himself and bit into one.

Shane laughed around a mouthful and then swallowed. “Baby. Do you need a new diaper?”

“Yes!” Joey pouted, took another bite and pulled two fresh beers from the fridge. “Steph text you?”

Shane took the offered beer. “Yeah. She’s cool. Thanks for this. The beer and the help.”

“No thanks needed.” Joey clinked his beer to Shane’s. “Can’t promise Steph won’t call in a favor when she wants the master bath redone though.”

“Anything you need.” Shane bit into his pizza and eyed the clock. Shit it was almost five. “Gonna be super close.”

“Better move your ass. Is it ready for another coat?”

Shane tilted his bottle back, washing down the last bite of pizza. “Need to give it another fifteen minutes. Let’s go unwrap the new rug and get the tables out of their boxes.”

“Meet you out there.” Joey grinned and lifted another slice from the box. “Swear to God, two minutes.”

“Uh-huh. All right.” Shane moved to the garage and got things in order out there. Once done, he came back in and laid another coat on the walls, then touched up any drips. The extra gallons Joey had grabbed got used with a little left over for future touch-ups. Perfect.

Shane stepped back and turned in a circle. “What d’ya think?”

“Looks fantastic. Really. I can’t say I’m impressed because I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, but dude, seriously, solid work.” Joey clapped him on his shoulder. “And it’s almost six and Steph just texted. So you better move your ass. Thinking you got forty-five minutes max until Cyn gets home.”

“Fuck. Shit. Hell.” Shane grabbed the sprayer and brought it outside. Joey came out after him, empty paint cans in his hands. “Joey can you flush this thing while I start tearing down plastic?”

“On it.”

“Thanks.” Shane ran back in and carefully started pulling blue tape from the trim, and then the plastic drop clothes. When done, he slid the couch and chair back in place, careful to not touch the walls with them. He’d already removed the old area rug, so he ran out and grabbed the new one and laid it down on the hardwood floor.

After that, he brought in the tables. He hadn’t removed any nails so the pictures and other wall decorations, including the flat screen, went back into place as well as the large Roman shade on the picture window. Shane spun in a circle again, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. “Lamps!”

“Got ’em.” Joey ran out, returning with both lamps in hand.

Shane grabbed one and set it on the end table near the chair, while Joey set the other up next to the couch. After arranging a few more decorations in their places, the room was put back together. Shane glanced at the time—six forty-five. Any minute she’d be pulling up. Shane palmed his phone and shot Cyn a text.

Shane:
Hey girl, you coming home anytime soon?

Cyn:
On my way. In traffic on the 5. Need anything from the store?

Shane:
Milk. Wine. Creamer.

Cyn:
Will do.

Shane:
Thanks.
See you soon. Careful driving. Stop texting.

Cyn:
Stop messaging me you freak. Lol

Shane laughed and blew out a breath. “I just gave her a grocery list. It’ll give me time to shower.”

“Good call. And that’s my cue to go. Hope she likes it. Good luck.”

Shane gave his best friend a hug. “Me too, man. Me fucking too.”

After seeing Joey off, Shane made sure the kitchen was cleaned up. The final touch was a vase full of white roses he’d given her the other day that were still in perfect bloom. She’d kept them in the kitchen. Shane set them in the center of the coffee table, lit a few candles and headed for the shower.

While under the spray, he prayed she’d be happy with the update. Shane wanted so badly to see that smile of hers.

* * * * *

Cyn pulled into the driveway and attempted to pull in the garage, but couldn’t because—
what the fuck
—her coffee table, end tables, lamp and area rug were where her Wrangler was supposed to go. Agitation reared up like a tsunami and Cyn threw the Jeep in Park and turned off the engine.

Stepping out of the vehicle, she opened the back and pulled out the two small sacks of groceries. “Don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing.” She closed the tailgate and walked into the garage. “But he better have a goddamn good reason why my shit is in my garage and not in my living room where it belongs.”

Cyn stormed into the kitchen. “Shane?” No answer. The lights were off and only the fading sunlight lit the room. Cyn continued on, heading for her bedroom but stopped short in front of the living room. The blinds were closed, as she’d been keeping them, so the room was more than dim but for the flickering light coming from a few candles in the space. “Shane?”

A light came on and Cyn focused in that direction. Shane was sitting in her overstuffed chair, leg bent with an ankle resting on one knee, and a single white rose in his hand. “Glad you’re home.” He smiled.