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  “Are you a friend of a Shane’s?”

  Wary, Celeste eyed the kid. Was he asking out of curiosity or simply twisting the knife. “Yes, I am. What’s it to you?”

  “If you want to talk to Shane, he’s around back.”

  Elated, Celeste moved to go back through the gym.

  “Not that way,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Go through the alley.”

  “The alley?” Skeptical, Celeste hesitated. “If this is a trick, kid, I’m coming back in here and tap dancing all over your behind.”

  Moments later, Celeste was freezing and feeling completely duped. There was no Shane or no one else for that matter. Nothing but an old green bus with shamrocks painted in the windows.

  Celeste’s eyes narrowed. The last time she was here there were men’s clothes hanging from a clothes line.

  Following an overriding suspicion, she walked around to the passenger entrance. The door was decorated with a pastoral scene and even an impish Leprechaun holding a pot of gold. Comical in nature, the painting was done by an artist of considerable talent.

  “You got to be kidding me,” she whispered as goose bumps ran down her arms.

  Even though all the clues pointed to the obvious, Celeste hesitated on the threshold. What if he was inside with another woman? What if he’d cut ties and never wanted to see her again?

  “Don’t do this. You’ve come this far, now see it through.” Celeste raised her hand and knocked.

  “Go away, Ollie! I don’t need you mooning over me.” His voice sounded gruffer than usually like a hand running over sandpaper.

  All the same, it caused her body to tremble. Her heart swelled with anticipation and probably something more. Instead of knocking, Celeste pushed on the door and a wave of heat wrapped around her, pulling her in.

  “Ollie, I told you I didn’t want—”

  Celeste didn’t notice he’d stopped talking. She was too busy soaking up the place. Besides the driver’s seat the interior no longer looked like a bus.

  Buffed to a high shine, wood floors ran the length of the space. All the seats had been removed and replaced with several living spaces. There was a cozy sitting area with built–in bookshelves, a brown leather sofa and two club chairs upholstered in the ugliest green tweed she’d ever seen.

  Just beyond that was a small galley kitchen with an ice box, a sink, and enough counter space to cook a meal. There was also a cast iron stove separating the kitchen from the sleeping quarters. Currently lit, the oven made the place surprisingly cozy.

  “Come to see the bum.”

  Celeste blushed. She wasn’t the only one who’d remembered her snobby reaction to the green monster that day.

  “Pardon me if I don’t get up. You weren’t invited.” Leaning over the side of what appeared to be a bed, Shane didn’t look happy to see her. Of course, it didn’t make her turn tail and run.

  She walked toward him and he leaned back against the bus’ bulwark, his hands resting on his knees. Partially hidden by the cast iron stove, she could only make out the lower half of his body and the top of his head.

  “What are you doing here?” he grumbled.

  “I missed you at dinner the other night.” Even to her own ears, her explanation sounded frivolous.

  He rewarded her efforts with a derisive chuckle. Shane snorted. “My sincerest apologies now go home.”

  His words hurt, but she kept walking toward him.

  “Where have you been? I couldn’t beat you off with a stick then you up and disappeared.”

  He ran his hair through his hair, rumpling it. “Go home, Celeste. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You don’t really want me to leave,” she said, even though his cold reception chipped away at her resolve.

  Met with silence, Celeste picked up a foot stool and brought it over to the side of the bed. She took her time unbuttoning her coat and removing her gloves, buying herself some time and building her courage.

  “Did you stay away on purpose?” With her heart beating double time, she sat down primly, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Yes.” Spoken so softly, yet clear as a bell.

  “I see,” she said, blinking back tears and before they spilled, she moved to stand. “Then I am d.…”

  The lid of Shane’s left eye was at half-mast. In the process of healing, his face was no longer black and blue, but a yellowish-green and a deep gash ran along his bottom lip.

  Celeste fell on him. Afraid to touch him, less she hurt him, her hands hovered near his face.

  As if sensing her dilemma, he slipped his hand around her wrists and pulled her close. His palms felt warm and firm beneath her fingertips.

  “Who did this to you?”

  “Tried to make things right between us.”

  Confused, Celeste frowned. “What could you possibly do to make things better? I’ve never met a man more noble than you.” Ever so gently, she cupped his face. “You’re kind, smart, forgiving and—”

  Before she could finish, he wrapped his arms around her and then rolled her under him. His thigh slid between hers, settling against her sex.

  Attired in only a pair of off-white long johns, he might as well have been naked. He felt so warm and hard against her, her body immediately responded. Her nipples knotted and an ache throbbed in her womb.

  She groaned when he lowered himself on his elbows, his lips just inches from hers. She shivered in anticipation, her heart swelling with emotion.

  “You barely know me,” he murmured huskily. His warm breath fanned across her cheek, making her head swim with all kinds of erotic delights.

  “I know enough.”

  Not waiting for him to take the initiative, Celeste kissed him. Her mouth moved over his. For what seemed like eternity he did not reciprocate, remaining immobile above her.

  “We shouldn’t.” She felt him pull away. In an act of desperation, she used her weight to roll him onto his back.

  “But we will,” she said, coming up on her knees, straddling him. She reached around and started unbuttoning her dress. Once undone, she pulled at her dress until it pooled around her hips.

  For long moments Shane made no move towards her. Celeste’s heart raced. She could feel his desire. It enveloped them, making the air heavy.

  “Say it,” he said thickly.

  Celeste smiled, knowing his meaning.

  “I want you.” She took his hands, placed them over his head, entwining their fingers. “And you want me,” she said, grinding her sex into him. Even without his participation, she was wet and ready.

  In need of more contact, she pressed her body to his. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of his underwear and she shuddered.

  “Don’t do this, Celeste.” She lowered her head to kiss him on the lips. She traced the contours, memorizing their fullness and texture.

  The kiss was slow, the kind of kiss one enjoyed on long summer days in the country under a moonlit sky. He moaned against her lips and Celeste smiled. Triumphant, her hands slowly traveled down his body, unbuttoning his underwear as she went.

  “Don’tdon’tdon’tdon’t,” he chanted in vain as she unbuttoned his pants. Even through his protests, he gripped her hips and rubbed his erection against her.

  Celeste ignored his words, opting to follow his body instead. Her hands dipped inside his pants, finding him erect. Secure in her affect over him, she stroked him.

  She kissed him again, her tongue slipping between his lips. Even though she was on the edge of losing control, the slow easy rhythm of her hand matched her tongue. She wanted to inflame him, to dispel further protests.

  At some point a change came over him. His lips moved under hers, softly at first, then more insistent. One hand traveled down her body, the other grazed the back of her neck, caressing it, making her body tingle all over.

  Celeste smiled in triumph. Responding to her kisses sealed both their fates.

  “So soft, so perfect,” he rasped as his palm caressed her shoulder, then slid lo
wer to palm her breast. His thumb brushed her nipple and she gasped. “Made to be touched, caressed.”

  Quickly, expertly, he removed her dress, pushing it down over her hips and thighs. Like minded, Celeste made quick work of his underwear. The process wasn’t easy. His lips, teeth and exploring had all come into play and were turning her brain into mush.

  Fortunately, he took over and deposited her beneath him. His long body slid over hers and she wrapped her legs around his buttocks just as he entered her, filled her.

  “I want to fuck you good and hard.” His gaze met hers and she realized he was holding back.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He positioned himself and thrust home. He moved slow and easy, pushing halfway in then pulling partway out. With each stroke, her sex quivered and tightened around him.

  “Look at us,” he growled, his gaze locked on where they were joined. “Watch me take what’s mine.”

  Celeste did as commanded, watching him pump in and out of her dark curls. For long, long moments the only thing that could be heard was their heavy breathing. As his thrusts became deeper, she met him thrust for thrust, her hands locked around his neck, exerting enough pressure to keep him close.

  With what seemed like no end in sight, he drove into her. Deeper and deeper, he stroked, increasing his tempo, thrusts more and more demanding.

  “So perfect,” he growled, rotating his hips and grinding against her. Celeste’s eyelids fluttered closed. She was so close, she could taste it, feel it in her bones like pressure in a corked bottle of champagne.

  She held on, fought for control, wanting to prolong this moment. She wanted to ride the crest with him. But when he pumped his hips, entering her with short repeated thrusts, her restraint slipped.

  “Shane,” she cried out, the first spasm rocking her.

  “Let go.” He placed two fingers on her clit, working her until her vision clouded and broke apart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  “I have to go.” Celeste whispered close to his ear.

  Blinking away sleep, Shane rolled over. Not ready to let her go, he wrapped his arm around her hip, keeping her there.

  “I won’t keep you,” he said when she tensed. “Just promise me you’ll come back.” Shane sat up and trailed kisses down her neck, sweetening the request.

  “I promise,” she panted in short order. He hadn’t realized he’d held his breath while awaiting her answer until he exhaled. Relieved, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. He couldn’t get enough of touching her.

  “I’ll make our favorite for lunch.”

  Confused, she frowned. “Our favorite?”

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with milk.”

  She leaned into him and he closed his eyes. Her scent intoxicated him.

  “Sounds good, but you’re going to have to make it dinner.”

  Shane felt the bitter edge of disappointment. “You’re going to make me wait all day?”

  “No help for it. I have morning rehearsals then I’m signing the deed over to my father’s place this afternoon.”

  Shane stiffened. “You’re giving the place up? Your father worked years building that place from the ground up.”

  “The store was my father’s dream, not mine.” Were those tears her in eyes? In an effort to soothe her, he kissed her shoulder. He was sure she had not come to her decision lightly. “There’s someone who really wants it, practically hounding my lawyer every day since the funeral.”

  “Who’s the buyer?” he asked, even though he had a tingling suspicion.

  She sighed into him and he welcomed her, enveloping her in his arms. If she stayed, he would keep her in this bed until she could barely walk.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Just wondering,” he shrugged, trying to act indifferent. He didn’t want to alert her suspicions.

  “I’ll see you later then” she said to his relief. His secret would remain intact.

  ***

  After rehearsals, Celeste took the A train back to Brooklyn to meet with her father’s solicitor.

  “I believe Mr. Percy is expecting me,” Celeste said upon entering Mr. Percy’s offices.

  Mr. Percy’s receptionist smiled warmly. “Go on in.”

  Her father’s solicitor sat on the other side of his desk. One of two chairs was already occupied. To Celeste’s surprise, it was a white man.

  Mr. Percy and the man who she assumed was the buyer stood.

  “You look lovely as always.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Percy,” Celeste said, shaking his hand.

  Feeling the buyer’s eyes on her, Celeste turned.

  “Abraham Gould.” He stepped forward, offering his hand as well. Pale and of average height, Gould albeit nicely dressed was rather unremarkable. However, Celeste couldn’t shake the fact she’d seen him somewhere before.

  “Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Mr. Percy said, rubbing his palms together.

  When all parties were properly seated, Percy handed Celeste a legal missive. “Here is the contract. Read over it. If you agree to the terms, then I’ll have you both sign. Do you have the keys?”

  Nodding, Celeste took the legal document, and then settled back to read. She took longer than warranted. She couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand with Shane’s objections running though her head.

  Celeste turned to Gould. “Why do you want my father’s place?” Her gaze raked over him, taking in his fine suit and gold insignia ring. “You don’t seem like the type to keep shop.”

  Gould smiled a slight quirking of the lips. “Looks can be deceiving.”

  Undeterred, Celeste pressed. “You do know the store enjoys a mixed clientele.”

  “Well aware.” Gould glanced down at his fingernails, seemingly detached from their conversation.

  “My father was a religious man. He would turn over in his grave if he knew his life’s dream was dismantled and fell into something of ill-repute.”

  There she said it. Put it out there like a pink elephant in the room.

  Gould gaze lifted. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.” He rested his hand on the arm of her chair. “Nothing will change. The shop is a gift for a lady friend with dreams of becoming a proprietress.”

  Was she doing the right thing? Or was she throwing away everything her father worked so hard for? In truth, there was no purpose in keeping it, only to be an obstacle to someone else’s dream. She didn’t have her father’s acumen for business and commerce. Her life was on stage surrounded by flood lights and buffeted by applause.

  Her course charted, Celeste asked for a pen. With a flourish she didn’t quite feel she signed the contract and then handed it to Gould who did the same.

  “Well, that was simple enough,” Percy remarked, collecting the binding document from Gould. He placed the contract in a folder and then set it aside.

  “Anything else?” Celeste asked, handing over the keys. In turn, Percy deposited them in Gould’s hand.

  “You signature is all we needed, Miss Newsome.” Percy looked to Gould. “If you will wire the funds, then the deal should be sealed.”

  Gould smiled and Celeste quelled a shutter. His teeth were worse than the orphans down at St. Jude’s on 86th.

  “I’ve already given my accountant my order.”

  Percy stood and extended his hand to Gould. “I wish you and your lady friend the best of luck in your new endeavor.”

  Celeste turned to leave.

  “Mind if I walk out with you?” Gould asked.

  Celeste hesitated. He was just being a gentleman, right? No cause for alarm despite the goose bumps running down her arms. “It’s a free world. You can do whatever you want.”

  Once outside and eager to part ways, Celeste extended her hand to him. “Good luck.”

  His hand enveloped hers and she couldn’t help noticing how limp and clammy it was like a dead fish. “Thank you, Miss Newsome.”

  Ready to part ways
, Celeste headed toward the bus stop. Unfortunately, Gould wasn’t of the same mind set. He caught up with her half way up the block. “Miss Newsome, are you in a hurry?”

  “Why,” she asked somewhat startled.

  Gould took off his hat and his gaze dropped. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee and maybe some pie.”

  “What about your lady friend?” Suddenly feeling duped the hackles on her neck rose.

  “One can’t have too many lady friends.” He grinned and Celeste resisted the urge to bop him in his lip.

  “Thanks, but no thanks Mr. Gould. I’m seeing someone.”

  Gould stepped closer, breeching the boundaries of intimacy. “Is he giving you what you want…everything you need?” He was so close his sour breath fanned across her cheek, making her shiver with revulsion.

  “Everything.” And she meant it. This pale shadow of a man couldn’t hold a candle to Shane Brennan.

  So why was she keeping the brute at arm’s length? Why all the precautions and writing her feelings off as simple attraction? A woman could do worse, much worse, Celeste mused, meeting Gould’s gaze.

  “Good day, Mr. Gould.” Celeste stepped around him confident in her choice and eager to see it through to its conclusion.

  “Call me if your fortunes turn,” he called after her.

  Even if they did, she would never stoop as low as to accept anything, but a hand shake from Abraham Gould. She deserved better. Thankfully, this time the realization finally sunk home.

  ***

  “Just like a woman.” Celeste removed her overcoat and flung it over one of the club chairs as she passed. The moment she laid eyes on him, her body seemed to quake with heat. “I slave in this kitchen all day,” he swept his arm toward the bus’s small galley kitchen, “and you don’t have the common decency to be here on time for dinner.”

  “I’m here and I’m ravenous.” Celeste ignored her place setting and the bowls filled with food, opting for him instead. Attired in a navy sweater and jeans, his hair was still damp more than likely from a recent shower.