Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 (30 page)

She was so goddamn stubborn. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he ran his hand over his head. Stubborn
and
insisting he was wrong. Shane’s gaze wandered over the countertop until it settled on the paperwork for his parents’ house. He gathered the now dry but wrinkled papers and stared down at them.

Was he wrong?

Shane flipped on the light in the kitchen and took a seat at the table. All he wanted was for Cyn to be happy. He turned through the pages. There was no doubt he could make her happy, and even though she’d said she was ready, Shane just needed her to be sure. He leaned back in his chair. She’d come to him—shown up at his door totally unexpected. She’d said she loved him and wanted a life with him…even with the issue of them living in different states.

Shane stared down at the paperwork. The house…his house. What if…
Shit!

Fucking hell, he
was
wrong. He was so damn wrong it wasn’t even funny. Shane’s heart might’ve been in the right place, but he’d been too busy trying to do the right thing by her, he’d missed the obvious.

In less than twenty-four hours since arriving on his doorstep, Cyn had been the woman he discovered in L.A.,
before
everything went haywire due to the attack. Cyn was fully present and ready,
and
she was sure. Shane was just being too pigheaded to listen. Really listen.

Jesus Christ, he needed to fix it, and he needed to fix it now.

Chapter Forty-Three

C
yn had gotten home the day before and pretty much shut herself up in her home with far more ice cream than any human should be allowed to consume. Having spent the prior day and then all night crying her eyes out, she was beyond exhausted.

After finally migrating to her bed from the couch, she hadn’t closed her eyes for more than five minutes, or maybe it was a couple of hours, when she heard a banging at her front door. It was probably Angie. Rolling out of bed, Cyn made her way to her door, peered through the peephole and froze.

“Cyn?” More banging. “Come on. Let me in.” Then her cell started ringing. “I know you’re in there. I can hear your phone ringing from out here.” More banging and then the doorbell. “Cynthia!”

Jesus Christ and all the Disciples, plus the prostitutes!
Cyn pressed her forehead against the hard wood and squeezed her eyes closed. Why was he doing this? What the hell did he want? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

More banging, and then her cell ringing again. “Cynthia Donnelly, you need to open this door rig—”

Cyn jerked the door open. And there he was, fist mid-bang—looking all scruffy because he hadn’t shaved—and fine as hell.
Dammit!
“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what?” He grinned and barreled past her, somehow managing to plant a kiss on her cheek as he blew by. “C’mere. Need to show you something.”

Cyn let out a resigned sigh and closed the front door. He’d gone into the kitchen and instead of following him she took a seat on the couch, pulled the throw blanket that’d been her companion for the last twenty-four hours from the edge, and wrapped it around herself.

Barely a minute passed and he poked his head around the corner from the kitchen. “Cyn— Oh, hey. You’re in the living room?”

“Yes, Shane. I’m in my living room.” She pulled the blanket tighter and stared down at the edges of it. “Look, I’m really tired, and honestly? I don’t have the energy to fight with you, so please, just say what you need to say and then go.”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you in the living room. Damn, babe, that’s just—”

The endearments were killing her. The pride lacing his words was killing her too. And only made her love him more. Shane knew what a big deal it was that she was in the living room. The fact that he was praising her for it stung, making her already hurting heart ache more. “Shane, please.”

He sat beside her. “Please what?”

With her eyes focused on her lap, a tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped it away. She couldn’t look at him. Her insides felt like they were on her outsides again, all raw and vulnerable. She hated being this vulnerable. Hated the fact that despite all her efforts and willingness, things hadn’t worked out between them. Her picker might be broken, but it wasn’t broken when it came to picking Shane. He was a good man. Through and through.

He just didn’t want her the way she wanted him. A person couldn’t make themselves feel what they didn’t feel. It sucked, but it was just the way it was. “Just…please.”

She heard a rustling sound and then Shane placed a short stack of papers in her lap. “Take a look at these, please?”

Cyn glanced at him before looking back to the paperwork. She picked up the wrinkled pile. “What are they?”

“Just…read them.”

“Okay, fine.” Blowing out a breath, Cyn wiped the tears from her cheeks and focused on the documents. There were plenty of legal terms among the words, but certain statements like, “
Quit Claim Deed
” and “
Monetary settlement
”, jumped right off the pages at her.
“She isn’t even—” Cyn read on. “How can she just do this? Please tell me you’re not going to—” Cyn flipped to the last pages and blew out a relieved breath. “You haven’t signed them. Thank God. Wait. You’re not considering doing this, are you?”

“Figuring that depends on you.”

“How so?” She straightened the paperwork and handed it back to him. Shane gave her a small smile, melting her heart straight down to her toes, and of course Cyn had to stop herself from leaning forward and first touching her lips to that freaking dimple of his, then kissing his sweet mouth.

Shane tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “On if you’d consider making it a home again. With me.”

Cyn frowned. Had he just said what she thought he did? No, she must’ve heard him wrong. There was no way Shane Conlon was asking her to make a life with him. No way he’d changed his mind…not after. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me, Cyn.” He stood but then knelt down in front of her and took one of her hands in his.

“Shane. What the fuck are you doing? Get up.” Cyn’s vision blurred and her cheeks got wet as tears ran in a steady stream from her eyes.

Was he insane…
Oh God! Oh my God!
Shane produced a small black velvet box from the pocket of his cargo pants and Cyn’s eyes went wide. Wider than she knew they already were. “Shane, oh my God, what are you doing?” Tears still streaming, she raised both hands and covered her mouth.

Shane cracked open the box. “I was wrong yesterday. I should’ve listened to you and I didn’t. For that I am so sorry. I love you, Cyn. I want to spend my life with you, and I do not want to waste another second.” He removed the ring and took her left hand in his.

“
Shane
!” She let out another sob before swiping at her cheeks.

“Cynthia Rose Donnelly, will you be my wife? Will you make a home, and God willing, a family with me in my father’s house?” He held the platinum band with what looked to be a—
holy shit
—multiple-carat princess-cut solitaire at the tip of her ring finger.

“Holy crap, that’s gorgeous! Are you crazy?”

Shane shook his head. “Not at all.” He smiled. “I promise to love you till the day I die, Cyn, if you’ll have me.”

How the hell was this happening? She couldn’t even process it. Just two nights ago he’d told her to go off and live her life…be single, and now he was on his knee with a ring—an unbelievably gorgeous ring—proposing marriage? Cyn jumped up and about knocked him over getting to her feet. “How did you go from sending me away to this? When the hell did you get that ring?” She pushed her hair away from her face and paced. “Please tell me what changed?”

Shane got to his feet, ring still held between his fingertips, and sat on the couch. “Gonna be the death of me, girl. Telling ya.” He let out an exasperated sigh and smoothed his free hand over his short hair. “First off, I did not send you away. You snuck out like a thief in the night. Second, I realized after you skipped town, that I was wrong.”

Cyn stopped short. “Seriously?” She crossed her arms but then flung them out to her sides. “Can you get any more perfect? I mean really!” She paced again.

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“It means, you cook, you clean. You’re endearingly tidy. You smell good all the
goddamn
time. Even when you’ve been working and should smell like male funk…no, not you. You smell like a bed of fucking roses.” Cyn clenched her fists, well aware she was wearing a path in the rug. “Not to mention the sex…but I gotta mention the sex. Fucking hell, it’s out of this world. I’m convinced I’m ruined forever. No one will ever live up to you, Shane. Bank on that.” She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair as an all too familiar wave of lust rolled through her—as it always did when she thought about the sex she’d had with him. “And now you show up here and tell me you were wrong?” She stopped and glared at him. “Men don’t admit they’re wrong, Shane. Trust me on this, I grew up with too many of them. But not you,
noooo
. You’re all perfect and right, even when you’re wrong. I can’t even—and then!” Cyn pointed at him. “Christ Almighty, then with that perfect ring, you get on one knee. I don’t even know what to do with you.”

“How about you be my wife?” He held the ring up.

Heat raced through Cyn’s body and she dropped her hand as those six little words he just spoke sewed her heart right back together. She swallowed, and then licked her lips. He was serious. Totally fucking serious. Cyn blinked. This was happening. “When the hell did you get that thing?”

Shane stood and moved in front of her. “Yesterday. Sincere ask. Yes or no, Cynthia.”

His voice was low; the gravelly tone vibrated over her skin and arrowed right between her legs. She gazed up at him. “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.” He took her left hand in his again and paused, ring hovering above her finger.

Cyn glanced down at it and then back to his eyes.
Yes!
On a complete overload of the feels, Cyn couldn’t speak, but Shane could read her mind, right?
Yeah, right.
Freak.
Giving herself a mental slapping, she rose up and pressed her lips to his. Shane gripped her hand as he delved his tongue into her mouth and slid the ring on her finger.

She felt the cool of the metal on her skin and was amazed it fit so perfectly. But then again, it was Shane, of course it fit. He’d probably measured her finger while she was asleep weeks ago… She pulled from his lips and glanced at her finger. “Good, because I’m sure too.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Bet your sweet ass it is.” She smiled, gazing at him, and pressed her lips to his again.

Shane wrapped his arms around her waist and raised her off the floor. God help her, this man…she’d never get enough of him. After what felt like forever, but never long enough, Shane broke the kiss and set her down on her feet. He cupped her cheeks in his big hands and his gaze wandered over her face. And Cyn felt every moment of it as a physical touch. She also saw the love in his eyes—saw it as clear as the moon shone on a cloudless night.

“Told you it wouldn’t be enough.”

Cyn frowned. “What wouldn’t be enough?”

“One kiss. The night all of this started.” A smirk arched his lips.

Cyn barked a laugh. “This is the one time I’ll let an ‘I told you so’ slide. Go for it, gloat all you want, Sergeant.”

“You are
sooo
gonna be the death of me.” He smiled and traced her lips with the edge of his thumb. “But I love you, so you go right ahead.”

“I love you too.” Cyn’s heart melted in her chest and her pulse kicked up about a thousand notches.

Shane Conlon: Her grade- and high-school crush. Her unattainable dream. He was everything and then some. And he wanted her for always and forever. Guess he showed that picker of hers who was boss. As she gazed up at him and drowned in his endless eyes, Cyn knew she wanted Shane forever and always too, and it was likely she’d never stopped wanting him.

Maybe she was just finding her way to him the whole time. All those bad choices had been because Shane would be coming for her, and as corny as it sounded, sometimes a girl had to kiss a few frogs to find her dream come true.

Yeah, Shane Conlon was her dream come true. Shane was her everything.

And he always would be.

About the Author

Dorothy F. Shaw lives in Arizona, where the weather is hot and the sunsets are always beautiful. She spends her days in the corporate world, and her nights with her Mac on her lap. Between her ever-open heart, her bright red hair and her many colorful tattoos, she truly lives and loves in Technicolor!

As Dorothy sees it, the journey is the best part.

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,
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Look for these titles by Dorothy F. Shaw

Now Available:

The Donnellys

Unworthy Heart

Defensive Heart

Coming Soon:

Stripped Bounty

The Donnellys

Jaded Heart

Don’t miss the other titles in Dorothy F. Shaw’s The Donnellys Series!

Opposites not only attract, sometimes they spontaneously combust.

The Donnellys
, Book 1

Ryan Donnelly’s past relationship may have failed, but he’s determined to make single fatherhood and his career a resounding success. He’s got his eye on the top of the ladder at an L.A. marketing firm when his gaze snags on co-worker Maiya Rossini.

She’s a feisty, witty, tattooed redhead who’s nowhere near his type, but she pushes every one of his hot buttons.

Maiya clawed her way out of her dysfunctional, trailer-park childhood to earn a college degree and establish a promising career. Her future dreams are big, bright and packed with full-throttle fun, but when it comes to matters of the heart and men—especially stuffy corporate types like Ryan—her past slams on the emotional brakes.

In the office and in the bedroom, Maiya and Ryan rub each other in all the
right
ways. Though Maiya is everything Ryan didn’t know he wanted, he’s got his work cut out for him convincing her she’s worthy of love—or the bright light she’s brought to his life could slip through his fingers.

Warning: Contains a lot of graphic, yummy sex. To those prone to lock their bedroom doors, fair warning. In this book, there are no doors, only windows. With no curtains. For those who aren’t afraid to keep their eyes wide open: Enjoy the show!