His kisses had a fire to them, one that seared through her veins, sparking a desire that had pulled her in too deep.
But she couldn’t afford to fall for him. Not with Niall lurking on the edge, ready to pop his ugly head up at any moment.
Every time she thought about him returning, that bottomless, seething hatred flared insideher.
She bundled herself up in a padded jacket and beanie, bracing for the glacial wind.
When she opened the door, a large cardboard box sat on the doorstep. Bending to lift it, she took in the tape sealing it with the words,this way up only, and someone had scrawled her name in a bold black marker.
Too heavy to carry, she dragged the box inside and stood over it. What if Niall had sent her something? Some kind of twisted warning or bribe?
But then she caught herself. That asshole wasn’t smart enough for that kind of subtlety.
Grabbing scissors from the counter, she sliced the tape, lifted the flaps and pulled out the paper filling stuffed inside. Beneath the packing sat a sturdy picnic hamper.
She shook her head and unbuckled the leather straps, peering inside at a collection of fancy cheeses, fresh bread, thick rashers of deli bacon and a bottle of homemade tomato sauce.
Her pulse went wild as her gaze wandered over bottles of squeezed orange juice, pressed in Italy just the day before, and beside it, a small jar of gourmet maraschino cherries.
The flutter in her chest was so electric, she giggled out loud.
Damn that man. He hadn’t given up on her.
She closed the lid and ran her fingers over the woven willow, tracing the gold rectangle on the front etched with the initialsJMcG. Her heart cracked open, and tears stung the backs of her eyes.
Somehow, he knew, without even being here, that she hadn’t had the energy to buy groceries. She kept telling herself he’d move on, but his thoughtful gesture still tied them together.
Leaving the hamper behind, she braved the night air, trotting down the stone steps and darting across the yard. When she reached Trixie’s stable, her eyes went to the empty hook where the head collar should hang.
Hanging it up after every use was second nature. So why wasn’t it there? Maybe Bucky had taken it to clean, but a small twinge of unease tugged at her.
“Hey, girl,” she murmured, peering inside the stable.
A chill prickled down her spine. She turned, scanning the yard, noticing the silence under whips of wind.
The moon hid behind dark clouds, casting eerie shadows across the cobblestones. The barn roof weathervane creaked like an old wheel, and when a thunderous thud came, her heart leapt in her chest.
She pressed her back against the wall, a creeping awareness of being watched prickled over her scalp.
Then Jackson burst from the shadows, all legs, and energy with a small plastic tub in his mouth. His nails clicked against the cobbles before he stopped and stared at her, tail wagging.
After a moment, he darted off, disappearing into the night, the tub still clutched in his jaws.
Shannon’s boots splashed through the rainwater as she hurried back to the loft, her heart still racing from the tension that lingered in the air.
She locked the door behind her, knelt before thehamper and unpacked the gifts, enjoying the buzz he’d given her.
Pouring a glass of juice and flicking the grill on to cook some bacon, her heart thudded with gratitude.
And in that moment, she realised she wanted to tell Jamie everything.
The following morning, Shannon found another package waiting on her doorstep, along with a card signed by Jamie.
This time, he’d filled a box full of red candied lips in jars, their taste sweet like cherries.
His persistence shone a light into the darkness and had her questioning everything.
Would telling him make things worse or could she bring herself to borrow money from him to buy Trixie?
