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for it to turn green, he
glanced down at his cell. There were more than a dozen text
messages from Billie and only one from his buddy Logan saying,
‘ you alright ?’
    Shane blew out a hot breath and pressed his
foot onto the gas pedal. Was he alright? Hell the fuck no. His plan
for the last few months had been working—avoid Bobbi at all costs.
Do not engage, and definitely don’t let her get inside your head.
So how had he managed to find himself embroiled in the middle of
Bobbi’s wedding day shit?
    “Fuck,” he muttered, glancing at the still
slumbering woman.
    He thought of Gerald Dooley—and he couldn’t
lie—a sense of something other than pity rolled over him. The guy
had always been a tool. A boring, lame ass tool. What had Bobbi
expected?
    He crossed the bridge, hung a left and
followed the river until he turned down Bobbi’s street. It had been
ages since he’d been this way and though it seemed that everything
in his life had changed, he realized there was still a hell of a
lot that hadn’t.
    There was still one woman who managed to
screw it up even more than it already was.
    Shane stopped the truck near the edge of the
driveway and put it in park, letting the engine idle as he gazed at
the house. It was dark, no stars in the sky tonight, but the porch
lights were on and a warm glow fell from the windows on the main
level. He spied Logan’s truck as well as Dooley’s black SUV parked
behind Herschel’s old Ford. Billie’s small compact was nowhere to
be seen, but then he supposed it was what she had used to get to
The Hard Rock.
    He gripped the steering wheel a little
tighter and his eyes lingered on the decorations that waved gently
in the wind. A large sign on the back of Dooley’s vehicle said,
‘Just Married’ though it had come loose and it too, dangled in the
breeze.
    Just like his fiancé.
    A harsh smile lifted his lips and he turned
to Bobbi again. Her hand was curled underneath her chin, her
breaths deep and even. That mad mess of hair was all over the place
so her features were hidden, though her plump lips were visible.
She moaned slightly and turned toward the window and it was then
that his reality rolled away. He felt it peel back and the
sensation was sharp.
    Something hard—something he couldn’t
name—punched him in the gut and Shane undid his seatbelt. He slid
over and before he could stop himself, gently moved the hair behind
her ear. He wasn’t sure how long he stared down at the simple
Gaelic symbol that was there, the same one he had tattooed onto his
left bicep. It meant ‘forever.’
    It had meant that she was his
forever.
    His forefinger brushed along the lines and in
that moment everything he’d ever felt for Bobbi crashed into him.
It left him burning. Shaking. It left him full and then empty. He
remembered the day they’d gotten the tattoos. He remembered how
she’d wanted hers put in that spot—the spot he loved to lick and
kiss. The spot that had her trembling in his arms.
    It was his spot. And he couldn’t believe it
was still there.
    She moved beneath his touch and he removed
his hand as she slowly murmured something. Her eyes flickered open
and she glanced out the window, wincing as her head fell back
against the cold glass.
    “Please take me somewhere else,” she
whispered, her shaking hand tugging at her hair as she exhaled and
closed her eyes.
    Shane eyed that tattoo again and before he
could stop himself, he put the truck in gear and drove off into the
night.
    He knew he was crazy. Hell, he was full blown
mental to even consider getting involved in her shit, but for
whatever reason he didn’t want to analyze his reaction. Didn’t want
to think about the consequence. All he knew was, in that moment, he
didn’t want Bobbi anywhere near Gerald Dooley.
    He wanted her back at his place. In his bed.
He wanted her trembling in his arms while he nuzzled that spot. His spot .
    After everything he’d been through, what the
hell was that all