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Just a quick email to let you know that Claiming Shelby is now LIVE!

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Chapter One

Shelby

Everything has come unraveled. I don’t even know how I managed to get to New York. Well, I know I got on a plane, and my parents picked me up at the airport, but everything about the journey from Houston is a blur. 

The last time I talked to my parents, they thought Grandpa was doing better and were hopeful. Five minutes later, they told me I’d better come now because he didn’t have much time left.

Pancreatic cancer isn’t supposed to move this fast. Is it? But then, is anything about cancer predictable or fair? I just thought we’d have longer.  

Apparently not. 

He doesn’t look like the strong man I grew up with now, lying in this bed with tubes all over the place. His face is gray, and he can barely open his eyes.

“Grandpa ... it’s Shelby,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Shelby ... my lamb,” he mutters, managing a weak smile.  

I swallow tears as he uses the nickname he gave me when I was two. I lean in to hug him, and I’m shocked at how little there is of him. I’m mad. Mad at Mom and Dad. Why didn’t they tell me how sick he’d become? 

Mad at myself for not coming sooner. 

Mad at the whole fucking world and the horrible disease that I know will steal my grandpa away from me. 

I start talking like nothing is wrong. I don’t know what else to do, but I’m pretty sure Grandpa doesn’t need to see me crying and freaking out. So, I talk about everything and nothing, and I don’t stop until he falls asleep again.

I turn, walk out of the room, and keep moving down the hospital corridor.

“Shelby, where are you going?” Mom calls after me.

I spin on my high heel, my skirt swirling around my legs, and glare at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why didn’t you warn me how far gone he is?” I ask, emotion clawing up my chest and lodging in my throat.

Dad is standing behind her, and he puts his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back against him. Ever the protector. Dad knows my words are borne of pain and frustration, that I’m lashing out at those closest to me. I know it, too. But I can’t seem to stop them.

“I could have come sooner. What if he died before I got here?” I demand, my voice hitching over the word ‘died.’

“It happened so fast, Shel,” Dad says softly, “He went downhill a few days ago. The doctor said the cancer spread faster than they anticipated. We would have told you to come sooner if we’d known. Grandpa has fought so hard. We thought he’d at least be well enough to go home in a few days, but—”

I see the light leave his eyes, and Mom gulps back a sob.

I know I’m being unreasonable. Strong emotions tend to do that to you. Mom is a doctor, and Dad is a surgeon, and it must be killing them to know that, despite all their knowledge and expertise, they can’t do anything to help him. No one can.

I move toward them, and they absorb me into their embrace. I hold on tight, kissing my mom’s cheek and tucking my head under Dad’s chin. 

“I’m sorry. It’s … I wasn’t expecting him to look like that,” I choke, brushing away tears. “I know you wouldn’t deliberately hold back from telling me anything. I just … I need to be alone for a bit, okay? I’ll come back soon. I promise.”

I turn and walk down the hall. I have to get out of here. I can’t be that person crying like a fool in the hospital hallway.

***

Outside the hospital, I breathe in the New York air. I’ve always loved New York in the fall. Usually, the crisp air and amber leaves make me feel alive and youthful. Now, I’m very aware of the fact that there is nothing about fall that is alive. Fall is all about things dying.

My grandpa is my only grandparent. My grandma, his wife, died when I was just a baby. They only had one child—my mom. And my parents only had one child—me. My father’s parents—well, they were out there somewhere, but they’d never been a part of my life, never cared to meet me. By all accounts, Dad’s parents were highly religious and had disowned him when Mom fell pregnant with me before they were married. It seems ridiculous to me that they rejected their son because of that. 

According to her, Mom’s parents were different and welcomed the news of her pregnancy with joy and anticipation. 

I may not remember my grandma, but my grandpa has been a mainstay in my life. I spent a lot of time with him growing up. He says the moment he met me, he saw my grandma in me. I have her eyes and her smile, he said. Yes, I look like Mom and Dad in some ways, but I carry my grandma in me when it comes to my personality and sense of humor.

My grandpa looked after me whenever my parents had to work. He walked me to school each day and picked me up with a picnic basket. We’d go to the park and walk, watch the birds, and eat. He’d tell me stories about when my mom was little and about my grandma. When something good or bad happened at school, he was the first one I’d tell. Sometimes, the only one. He was a good secret keeper.

I cross the street and enter the park on the other side of the hospital. I’ve never been to this one before, but all parks make me feel safe and relaxed. There’s a coffee kiosk at the entrance, and I can’t resist the lure of fresh coffee permeating the air.

“Large Americano, please,” I say to the woman behind the cart.

She pours the coffee for me. Before I can pay for it, a hand reaches over my shoulder with a twenty-dollar bill.

“Same for me,” says a deep voice. “I’ve got them both.”

I turn to glare at the man behind me. I don’t need some asshole hitting on me while I’m dealing with my grandpa dying in a hospital room across the street.

“I don’t need you to—”

I come to an abrupt halt as I look up into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen. And I am looking up because he’s so tall. I’m average height, but this man is a giant—broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and a warm smile that does odd things to my nether regions.

“Buy you a coffee?” he finishes. He gives me a thoughtful look. “Yeah, I can tell you’re the type of woman that doesn’t need anyone. Or think you don’t. But I saw you cross over from the hospital, and I can see you’re having a bad day. You look sad. So, how about you be my good deed for the day?” 

“I—”

The woman at the cart hands him his coffee and change, and I snap my mouth shut.

“I’m on my lunch break if you fancy sharing that bench over there?” he asks, pointing behind me. 

“I came here to be alone,” I say quickly. 

I don’t need someone I don’t even know thinking he can rescue me. I don’t need rescuing. Certainly not by a tall, gorgeous man with obsidian eyes and a body made for sin.

I turn to walk away.

“Wait—” 

His hand touches my shoulder, and I almost crumble under its warmth. So alive. I need to get away from him, so I can keep it together.

I’m about to give him an earful when I turn to see he’s holding a card toward me.

“If you change your mind, call me.”

I take the card, glance at it, and let it flutter to the ground. “I won’t.”

He smiles, unaffected by my rudeness. Then he turns and walks away.

When I’m sure he’s not going to turn around and see me, I bend over and pick up the card. Because even though I’m freaking out about my grandpa not being with us for much longer, this tall, handsome stranger has affected me in a way no man ever has. 

I don’t understand it. I’m not feeling this wild attraction because I want to. It just…is.

I take a breath and look down at the card. I just need to know his name. I’m not going to call him.

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