Captured In Ink (Art of Love Series) (36 page)

“Of course he’ll be back,” Brian said, speaking up finally. “This is the dark moment of our story. Whatever is keeping Shane away won’t stop him from helping Aunt Teresa when the time comes for him to do it. That’s how every story works. Why am I the only one who sees this?”

“You think Shane’s really like the comic book character he creates?” Zack asked, surprised at his brother’s faith in the man who had dropped completely out of their lives almost two weeks ago.

“Yes. I do,” Brian said. “I have a feeling about it. I don’t see why I can’t come to court with you two tomorrow.”

Zack shrugged. “I wish we could all be there, but the advocate said only me and Chelsea could go. We promise to tell you everything after—no matter how it turns out.”

Brian nodded. “I’m not worried, dude. I just wish I could see it go down.”

Zack fought not to roll his eyes at Brian’s dreaming of some grand save he thought Shane was going to make. Not that he blamed his brother for hating reality. Reality sucked. If it didn’t, he and Chelsea wouldn’t be skipping school to go to court tomorrow.

And Aunt Teresa and his grandparents wouldn’t be fighting over them.

And his parents wouldn’t have died in a stupid plane crash.

Zack sighed and pulled his mind back to the room and his siblings. There was no sense dwelling on what couldn’t be changed about the past when you had enough to worry about in the present.

“Whatever happens, we’re in this together. Nothing and no one is going to change that about us as a family,” he said, his tone adamant. “I won’t let anything change it.”

“That’s because you’re a hero like Shane,” Brian said with a shrug.

Zack was speechless for several moments, and then he grinned. “Was that an actual compliment, bro?”

Brian shrugged. “Not really. It was more like my lame attempt to prop up your brave speech, dude.”

Zack grabbed his pillow and proceeded to pound on his laughing brother while Sara squealed for them to stop.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, and their Aunt Jillian opened it to stick her head inside.

“Anybody dead or bleeding in here?” she asked. “I heard screaming.”

“We’re all fine,” Chelsea said. “Zack and Brian are just pounding on each other.”

“Okay. Well, no serious fighting. I sent your Aunt Teresa out for a drive to clear her mind. She’s trying to make herself brave enough for tomorrow,” she said.

Jillian looked at Zack and Chelsea. “How are you two doing? I’m going to be there, and your grandparents probably won’t. So it’s all good.”

They all nodded, feeling better that their other aunt was around. She wasn’t as nice as Aunt Teresa. When she was mad, everyone knew it, but maybe that would be good tomorrow.

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room watching TV. That model show is about to come on, and I love seeing those skinny girls crying when their clothes don’t look right. Makes me grateful I’m a full figured woman,” Jillian said, hearing the older two teenagers laugh as she closed the door and walked back down the hall.

“Larson, you better be good to my friend or I’m going to kick your big blonde Viking-looking ass all the way back to Valhalla.”

***

Brooke sat at Shane’s drafting table, flipping through the folder full of pictures. They were all of the mysterious Teresa Callahan whom she hadn’t met yet, but felt like she practically knew after seeing over fifty drawings of her. She could see why Carrie wanted to use some of them for a collage in the gallery. Shane was very talented.

“You know, Dr Larson, some of these really should go into your private collection instead of on display,” Brooke said, brandishing the one of the woman in mid-orgasm. “This is practically porn. That’s a whole different kind of graphic novel for you, isn’t it?”

Shane laughed and walked over to snatch the drawing out of Brooke’s hand. “It’s art and meant to evoke strong feelings. Have you ever held one of your mother’s glass vaginas in your hands? All of us have. Not to mention that bust Dad made of Jessica which is about the most sensual piece I’ve ever seen. We can have a great philosophical debate about art versus porn, Dr. Daniels.”

Brooke laughed at his slam. “Okay. I get your point. Human nature. You drew what you saw, and I feel what I feel when I interpret it. Chalk it up to envy that your girlfriend has someone to do that for her and I don’t.”

Shane laughed even as he paced restlessly around the room studying the picture and missing Reesa more than he ever thought it possible to miss someone. He sighed as the doorbell rang.

“Damn it. I told Michael I’d send the pictures to Carrie by you. My brother has no patience at all,” Shane said, pulling open the door to find Reesa.

“Hi, Dr. Larson,” she said, nervously looking up at him. “I need some therapy.”

“Reesa,” Shane said softly, welcome in his tone as the very sight of her flooded his body with relief. He was suddenly sure that he shouldn’t have stayed away from her this week, but he hadn’t trusted himself not to start another argument.

Reesa held out her arms and Shane bent to hoist her up, hugging her just as tightly as she hugged him. He took two steps backwards and kicked the door closed with his foot.

His arms were bands of steel around her and his body as solid as one of his father’s statues. He could have held her forever.

Reesa lifted her head to kiss Shane, but froze at the sight of the tall redhead staring at her with twinkling and very interested eyes.

“Put me down,” Reesa ordered stiffly. “You should have said you had company.”

Still dazed to see her, Shane was confused by Reesa’s furious glare, but didn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he tightened it. “What are you talking about?”

Across the room, Brooke laughed at her sudden invisibility to her future step-brother. She closed the folder and walked over to pluck the orgasm drawing now dangling from Shane’s fingers as he clutched the real life version of his model instead.

“I’m Shane’s step-sister, or at least I will be soon,” Brooke said to Reesa. “Not worth glaring over, I promise.”

“Reesa, this is Brooke, who is leaving. You can talk to her some other time,” Shane said, watching the fury seep away little by little, trying not to think about how hot it was that Reesa was jealous of Brooke. He was dumb guy enough to enjoy it, not that he’d admit it to her. He was smarter than that.

Reesa leaned out and smacked Shane hard in the shoulder. “Put me down, Shane. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Sorry no—missed you too much,” he said. “Bye, Brooke. Tell Carrie I want final say on her selection.”

Brooke smacked Shane on the back of his head with the folder. She was feeling both sorry for and envious of the tiny woman Shane wasn’t letting go of at all, not even to say good-bye.

“See you two later. Nice to meet you at last, Reesa,” Brook said. “He talks about you all the time.”

Brooke closed the door behind her, and Shane reached out to click the lock into place. “Hi—we’re finally alone,” he said. “Where were we?”

Reesa searched his eyes and his face. She wanted to chastise him for embarrassing her, but instead ended up studying all the changes he’d made. “You’re not wearing your piercings.”

“That’s right,” Shane told her. “But I kept the important one.”

He stuck out his tongue, gratified when Reesa sighed and relaxed against him again. Happy with her reaction, Shane walked to his bedroom with Reesa in his arms. When he sat on the bed with her, Reesa grabbed two handfuls of his hair.

“You cut your hair too,” she noted, not liking how disappointed she sounded about the fact.

“Just a trim,” Shane told her. “Trying to look presentable like I promised.”

Reesa snorted. “There’s still no style in it, but I’m glad you didn’t cut it off really short.”

“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Wait until you see the clothes I bought,” Shane told her. “I don’t look as good as you all dressed up, but I think even Jillian would approve.”

“Shane, you don’t have to change for me. I just didn’t like the beard,” Reesa protested.

“I know, baby. I’m shaving every day now. No more beards. Now enough fashion talk—are you worried about tomorrow?” he asked, knowing without a doubt that fear of it had brought her to him.

“Terrified,” she said honestly.

“I have great faith that everything is going to work out, but no matter what happens, I will be by your side. I promise,” Shane told her, slanting his mouth over hers, loving the way she moaned and kissed him back.

Reesa touched her forehead to his. “I needed to see you, be with you. Jillian is with the kids. I have two hours,” she said softly, not able to respond to his promises. God only knew what would come out of her mouth if she started telling him how she felt.

“I still want forever, but two hours is at least a start,” Shane told her, falling backwards on the bed with her and drowning in her desperate kiss.

Chapter 22

“Counselor, I can’t even tell you how sorely disappointed I am about your clients not being here,” Judge Carlson said, finding it hard not to direct all her fury at the Lansings’ attorney even though the man looked as upset as she was about their absence. “What kind of child custodians don’t show up when they asked that the children involved be allowed to come hear the case?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I did advise them. However, I am also completely prepared to represent their interests,” the attorney said.

“You better be prepared to camp out until this is done,” Judge Carlson said firmly. “This case will not be coming back to my courtroom. Custody will be awarded today.”

Her steely determined gaze swung to Teresa Callahan and her attorney. “I saw paperwork stipulating two part-time jobs, but Counselor I believe you said Ms. Callahan just this morning received additional paperwork indicating income. Bring it forward and let’s have a look,” she demanded.

Reesa’s attorney looked over at Reesa. “She’s in a mood now. If you don’t use this, we don’t stand a chance,” he advised.

Reesa nodded tightly as she made plans to kneecap the man she was in love with for finding a way to force his money on her. Even if she needed it—and she did obviously—Shane could have told her what he’d been planning. All Shane had done last evening was demonstrate how well he remembered what she liked in bed.

“This is a contract between Shane Larson and Reesa Callahan paying her for use of her image and likeness in his artistic work,” Reesa’s attorney said.

“What kind of artistic work?” Judge Carlson asked, not having any trouble imagining Teresa Callahan getting desperate enough to do most anything to keep the children. Her “most anything” list was much longer and more creative than the average person’s after all her years as a judge. She scanned the paper, relieved that it appeared to be a valid contract and for a significant amount of money.

“It is my understanding that Mr. Larson is a graphic novelist,” her attorney explained, watching the judge’s face soften as she read the contract.

“The
Winged Protector
,” Judge Carlson read. “I’m familiar with his novels. My nephew reads them. Let’s take a short recess and add this fifty thousand to our calculations and see where we are. Have a copy of this contract entered into the records. This is the only case on my docket this morning. We are making time for everything and getting this done today.”

“Yes, certainly,” he said, taking the copy back.

The gavel came down once and then the judge got up to leave.

“Cross your fingers now. This might just have saved you,” he whispered to Reesa.

***

Across town, Shane came out of the medical center but couldn’t find his car. After ten minutes, he had to conclude that it had probably been towed during his meeting with his new employer.

“Damn it,” he swore, setting off at a brisk pace and wondering how long it would take to get to downtown walking.

In less than five minutes, a car pulled along beside him and threw open the passenger door. “Need a lift, Dr. Larson. Carrie told me you’re going to be working here now.”

“Barrymore, right?” Shane said, climbing in. “Boy are you my hero right now. I need to get to the courthouse downtown as fast as you can get me there.”

“Everything okay?” Drake asked as Shane folded his large body into his car.

“My girlfriend’s fighting for permanent custody of her sister’s kids. I’m supposed to be there, but the new job orientation took longer than I thought,” Shane said, glancing worriedly at the traffic on South Limestone.

“Didn’t you drive to it?” Drake asked.

“Yes. My car was either stolen or towed,” Shane told him.

Drake laughed. “Welcome to the club. Consider it your two hundred and thirty-six dollar hiring fee. It happens to every new employee at least once.”

“Bad morning for it to happen to me,” Shane said sadly.

Drake could feel the worry vibrations coming off the man and decided a change of subject was needed. “I barely recognized you in real clothes.”

Shane laughed. “I barely recognize myself. I’m shooting for mature and responsible.”

Drake nodded. “I’d say you made it. You look very much like you should be called Dr. Larson, but I wouldn’t be too quick to give up the artist life. You have some real talent. I saw your drawings on the gallery conference table and your name on the folder. Carrie was busy when I was looking and later I forgot to ask who the woman was.”