Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(50)

The truck was warm, and Show had a CD going—Clint Black. She hadn’t really been listening, but a line in the song that was currently playing caught her attention as Black changed pitch. The lyric resonated with her in that moment, and she looked sidelong at Show, who was staring out the windshield, his hands on the wheel. He’d been quiet for awhile. Not ignoring her, just quiet. But then, she’d been quiet, too.

They’d left not long after dessert, as soon as Show and Isaac had talked whatever shop they’d needed to talk. She knew it was her who’d changed the tone of what had been a fun night. She’d felt comfortable and easy, only a little tipsy. Lilli and Isaac were good folks and good company. The food had been great, and they’d laughed and teased each other. She’d even enjoyed the little ribbing she and Show had gotten when she was telling the story of the drunk cooks.

And then Gia had woken up. Lilli had put her down shortly after Shannon and Show had arrived, explaining, in response to Show’s disappointment, that her sleep schedule was still erratic. Shannon had hoped that she might sleep until the evening was over. But she hadn’t, and Show had volunteered to go up and collect her.

At first, that was fine. Isaac, Lilli, and Shannon continued the conversation they’d been involved in.

Until Shannon heard Show’s voice, low and sweet, cooing, Hey, little diva. Come to Uncle Show, and she’d forgotten that there were other people in the room with her. The video monitor in the kitchen was in her sightline, and she sat and watched him love that baby, murmuring sweetly, like a melody in his rumbling baritone, as he changed and dressed her.

It had rocked Shannon hard, made her scared and sad and so full of pain and…and something powerful she couldn’t figure out, she thought she’d pass out. A sound filled her head like white noise or crashing waves or she didn’t know what it was, and it didn’t stop until Show had left the room with the baby and was on his way back downstairs. By then, when she’d gotten some control back, Isaac was in the fridge getting beer, and Lilli was sitting at the table, studying her. Unable to think of anything else to do, she’d shaken her head and tried to chuckle, apologizing for spacing out.

As saves went, it had been adequate. Lilli didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t pry. Show gave her a concerned look when he came back into the kitchen with Gia, which told her that she needed to work on her expression. And then she’d helped Lilli clean the kitchen, and Isaac and Show had taken Gia into the living room, and everything was okay again. She’d asked Lilli about the big shop she’d called the guys in from at dinnertime, and Lilli had told her about Isaac’s woodworking. The table they’d had dinner on, the sofa in their living room, a lot of the furniture in their house was handmade by Isaac. It was beautiful, and Shannon had made a note to herself to take a closer look.

She’d been feeling relaxed and normal again when she’d gone in to check on the guys’ drinks. But when Show had tried to hand her Gia…. She knew she’d freaked outrageously. She was adept at avoiding babies. She’d turned it into an art, always able to find a plausible reason that she couldn’t. But Show had caught her flat-footed, and, after that weird spell she’d had not long before, she just choked. Show had looked truly baffled. When she’d fled back into the kitchen, Lilli was standing in the middle of the room, obviously having witnessed everything.

That had pretty much been the beginning of the end of their nice evening. And now Show was driving her silently back to the inn. Had driven her—they’d already crested the rise, and he was parking the truck as she pulled herself out of her thoughts. When he turned off the engine, she opened the door. He grabbed her hand before she could scoot out.

“Hey.”

Surprised, she turned back to him. “Aren’t you coming in?” She knew her behavior had been strange, but had it been strange enough to push him away?

“You can tell me anything. I want you to know that.”

The wind was bitter cold, and she closed the door. They maybe weren’t going anywhere right away. She didn’t know what to say to him. There were things she didn’t talk about. Period. Things that were nobody’s business but her own. Period. In fact, she did everything she could not even to think about them, usually.

“You said you wouldn’t ask.”

“I’m not. I won’t. I’m saying you can trust me. With whatever you have to say.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

His eyes narrowed at that, but he said nothing. He just stared at her. She stared back, afraid she’d look guilty if she turned away. When he finally nodded, she almost sighed with relief.

“Are you coming in?”

“Is that what you want?” Still his eyes were narrowed, like he was trying to see deeper than she was letting him.

“Show, why are we dancing around it? Yes, I want you to come in. That’s why I’ve asked, now, twice. I want you to spend the night with me. I want you. Are you looking for me to beg? Because I won’t.”

Instead of replying, he stretched his right arm across the cab and hooked his hand around her waist, then pulled her sharply across until they were hip to hip. He often surprised her with his strength, moving her as if she were a mere slip of a thing, when she was in reality as tall as the average man. Nothing about Show, however, was average.

“Show, what…”