They all ended up on the roof drinking coffee. Later they took a long ride down the coast and stopped for a late lunch. They stopped at some shops and at one point the girls wandered off while the guys sat in an outside patio and had a beer. The sun was going down by the time they split off, Cole and Angel heading home and Crash and Shannon heading back to his loft.
When Crash came out of the shower later that night, Shannon was over near the bookshelves behind the pool table. She was gathering up some plastic wrapping and packaging, wadding it up in a ball. Crash rubbed a towel over his head as he walked up in his jeans, shirtless. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”
She smiled up at him. “I just framed a couple of the photos I took.”
His eyes skated past her to the framed pictures on the low bookcase. They were simple black wood frames. One held a black and white photo of Crash from the day he’d waited outside the shop for her in Lake Tahoe. In the photo he was laid back on his bike, his head resting on his handlebars, his legs crossed and resting on his rear fender, his arms folded, and his eyes closed. He grinned. Shit, one nudge, and he’d have tumbled off. His eyes moved to the next picture. It was a color shot of all the guys standing in front of their bikes that morning in Reno, chrome glinting in the morning sun. He and his brothers were all laughing at something. It was a great shot. He looked at the next frame. It was a shot of him holding Melissa in his arms, their pinky fingers hooked, smiling at each other.
Crash’s eyes met Shannon’s. “Babe. Thank you.” He pulled her to him and kissed her.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Things were great between them for about a week.
Then Shannon got a call from her sister. Their father had committed suicide, and their mother was hysterical. Shannon hung up. One look at her, and Crash was across the room, holding her. “Shannon, what is it?”
“My father. He’s dead.”
“What?” Crash asked stunned. His hand stroking her hair froze. He’d wanted the man dead for the hell he’d put his daughter through, but he never wanted Shannon to have to go through this heartbreak. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“Can you take me home? I need to go home.”
“Of course, baby. Whatever you want. We can leave right now.”
“I…I have to pack first.”
Crash pulled back. “Pack? What do you mean, pack?”
“They’re going to need me.”
“So that’s it, you’re just leaving? Just going back?”
“My mother and sister need me.”
“I need you.”
“Crash, please.”
“Baby, I’ll take you back, but I want you to come back here.”
“I will.”
“Baby, I want you in my bed every night.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I thought that was what you wanted, too.”
“Crash, please. I can’t talk about it now. I just need to get home.”
He nodded, thinking he’d misread everything. Maybe it had always been her plan to go back home. He replied softly, “Sure. What do you need me to do?”
Crash took Shannon back to her parent’s home. He felt strange and out of place in the large mansion surrounded by expensive things, and he began to see just how crazy it was to think a relationship between two people so different, from such different upbringings and background could ever work. Not in the real world. Not long term. But he loved her enough to at least try, to at least give it a shot. Looking over at Shannon, he only hoped she felt the same. Earlier this week, if he’d been asked, he would have been sure. Now he wasn’t feeling that same certainty anymore.
Shannon was surrounded by her mother, sister and other family members as he stood to the side, feeling more and more out of place. It seemed that instead of turning to him, this heartbreak was pushing them apart.
He’d finally had a chance to talk to her when her family wasn’t surrounding her. He’d found her in her father’s office, standing at his desk, looking down at a piece of paper. “Shannon, it’s getting late, I guess I’ll head back to the loft now. You coming with me?” She lifted her eyes to his, and he frowned seeing the tears in her eyes. “Shannon? You okay?”
“You said these things to him?” She held up the piece of paper in her hand.
Crash didn’t have a clue what she was referring to. “What things? What are you talking about?”
Her tone sharpened, shocking him with the anger she directed at him. “This is his suicide note, Crash.” She held it out to him. “Here. Read it!”