Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(31)

I’ll come back down. It’s equipment, and I’d rather carry it myself.” His hand lingered on her back, and as she stood, he swept it down, just brushing her ass as he took it away. Slick. And not really a way to impress her.

“Okay, then. Remember, there are heavy hors d’oeuvres in the dining room until seven, and then drinks and light snacks at nine. If you want an actual meal, it’s the Chop House—I marked it on the maps. Their kitchen closes at nine-thirty.”

Austin leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, love.” Then he winked at her, and they all continued up the stairs. Austin might be something of a pompous dick, Shannon decided. With her foot, she pushed the black case to the side—it was heavier than she expected—and turned around to go back to the desk.

As she turned, she saw Showdown standing on the other side of the full glass of the front door. He opened it and stepped into the parlor.

CHAPTER NINE



Show was angry, his fists clenched at his sides, and that was not how he’d intended to come into this room. But that * had been all over her, and she’d smiled at him like she liked it.

Yeah, he’d left her in his bed, and yeah, that made him a dick, but that hadn’t even been two days ago, and he’d come here to f*cking apologize. Make it better. Instead, he found her pushing up on some piece of shit with prissy, groomed stubble.

Shannon was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him, her hands on her hips. The sweet smile she’d given Blondie Boy was gone now. Now she looked as pissed as he felt.

“What the hell do you want?” Venom dripped from every syllable she spoke.

“Who was that *?”

Her laugh was bitter and derisive. “You have got to be joking. Get out, Show.” She moved to walk past him, and he grabbed her arm. She yanked, but he had no intention of letting her go.

“I came here to talk to you.”

“And why would I want to talk to you?” She pulled again. “Let me go.”

“No. We need to talk.”

“You know when I would have talked to you? Saturday morning. I would have talked about anything you wanted to talk about. Now, you can f*ck off and Let. Me. Go.” She yanked again, and he tightened his grip. She was going to f*cking talk to him.

“Shannon? You okay, love?”

Show didn’t release his hold on her, but he twisted around to see Blondie standing at the foot of the stairs, looking like he thought he knew what he was doing. He didn’t.

“Not your business, hoss.”

“I think you should let her go, buddy.”

Buddy. Now Show let Shannon go and stalked over to his new buddy. He got up close, towering over him, staring down, his jaw set. Damn, he hoped this scrawny f*ck tried something. The * looked up, and Show was glad to see him swallow hard. That’s right, buddy.

“Show. Enough.” Shannon was behind him, her hand on his back. “Everything’s fine, Mr. Montroy.

Thanks for your concern.”

Hearing her call him Mr. Montroy, it got through to Show that the guy was nothing more than a guest. A handsy guest, who was gonna be short a hand if he didn’t back the f*ck down. Blondie blinked, and his eyes shifted from Show’s down to Shannon. “You sure, love?”

Love? Who did this guy think he was?

“Yep. Anything I can get you?” He could hear the smile in Shannon’s voice. Fake or not, it made him want to turn this *’s face inside out.

“Uh, no. Just came down for my case.”

“Okay, then. Drinks at nine.” Blondie nodded, gave Show another, brief, considering look, then picked up a black case off the floor and went upstairs.

Shannon watched him go. When he was up and out of sight, she grabbed Show’s sleeve in her fist.

“Come with me. You want to talk? Fine. But do not mess with my work when you do it.” She pulled, and he let her lead him back to her office.

She closed the door, and he turned around. “Shannon.”

She jumped when he spoke, and then she laughed, without humor. “I didn’t realize it until I just heard it. But that’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

He didn’t think that could be true. He thought it all the damn time. It never seemed to leave his head anymore. Whether he’d said it out loud seemed irrelevant. There was a lock of red hair hanging over her eye, and he reached out to brush it back, but she knocked his hand away and moved to the other side of the room.

“I don’t understand what you think you’re doing. But I don’t care anymore. You need to stay away.

Leave me alone.” She hugged herself, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked vulnerable. Nothing was going like Show thought it would—and he hadn’t thought it would go that great in the first place.

“No.”

“What?”

“I can’t leave you alone.” He couldn’t. He’d done a lot of thinking the last day or so.

“Well, that’s a lie. You left me alone just fine yesterday morning.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“Good for you. Now go.”

“Shannon”—she reacted again to her name. Show didn’t know what to make of that. Still feeling a lingering buzz of the anger he’d felt when he’d come in and had seen that bastard with his hand on her ass, and needing her to f*cking listen to him, he crossed the room and grabbed her arms. Her eyes narrowed as he approached, and she went stiff at his touch; he ignored it. He was done avoiding fights, done deferring just to keep things quiet. Done being half a man, living half a life.