Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(6)



“Um, Show—is there something you need? Badge is in the barn, I expect.”

He turned and met her eyes. Just briefly, and then he shifted his gaze to just above her shoulder, but that quick connection was enough to make Shannon’s heart thump. His eyes were light blue and sad. She had to get hold of herself. She was getting swoony over a broken man who clearly wanted no part of anything she might offer.

He cleared his throat. “Packing some stuff up. Isaac said there were boxes in storage here. That right?”

She was always surprised when he spoke. He had a rich baritone, but was remarkably soft-spoken, especially considering his prodigious size. His was a kind voice that belied his muscles and ink.

“Yes. We still have almost all of the boxes from the furniture and accessories that were shipped in.

They’re taking up a lot of room in the storage, so I’m glad someone’s got a use for them. I’ll call Steve to bring some out for you. How many do you need?” Shannon would be glad to get rid of those. She understood Lilli’s reluctance to burn or trash what could be of later use, and Signal Bend wasn’t quite up on the whole recycling thing, but there were more than a hundred flattened boxes of varying sizes taking up a lot of space.

“Nah, s’okay. I can handle it—if you don’t mind me going back there.”

Shannon smiled and shifted so that her eyes slid into his eye-line. He didn’t move away. “Of course not.

Come on, I’ll take you back and unlock the door.” She turned and went back into the inn, feeling glad that she was wearing her black pencil skit with the deep kick pleat. It was a good ass skirt. Here at the inn, during business hours, she tended to wear low-heeled boots or flats with slacks, and sometimes even jeans, under a tailored blouse. Signal Bend was a casual place, and they were cultivating a similarly relaxed vibe at the inn. But this morning she’d had that meeting with the bride, so she’d dressed in more conventionally professional clothes—her black skirt, classic black pumps, and an emerald green wrap blouse that popped with her red hair. Not to mention what it did for her cleavage, without being slutty.

It was a good day to be alone with Showdown, now she thought of it. She’d have picked this outfit if she’d known he was going to be here asking for her help. So hurrah for serendipity. If she was going to gain his attention, she was dressed for it.

He was standing a couple of feet behind her when she unlocked the storeroom door. The switch was in a little ways on the wall, so she stepped in and flipped it. The boxes were leaning, in descending order of size, against the back wall. Shannon navigated her way back, realizing that Show would have to move a lot of crap out of his way before he could make the same trip to the back of the room. She really needed to put organizing this room on her list.

“Tell you what. I’ll hand boxes to you, so you don’t have to fight your way in here. You just tell me how many and what size.”

Filling the doorway, he shook his head. “You’ll mess up your fancy clothes. I’ll take care of it. Come on out of there before you snag something.”

He’d noticed her clothes. That was something. She smiled and brushed her hands, then came back to the door. He was still taking up the entire doorway, so he swung to the side to get out of her way. Shannon scooted by him, admittedly not taking all the room he’d given her, brushing lightly up against him as she went past. God, he was so big. Even in her heels, she felt tiny next to him. And she’d noticed, she thought, a little bit of a flinch when they touched. Whether that was a sign of potential interest or present distaste, she did not know. She preferred to focus on the former.

“Okay—take as many as you want. Just call out if you need anything—I’ll be at the desk. The door only locks with the key, so if you would lock it when you’re done and bring the key back, that would be great.”

She went back down the hall, adding a little sashay, just in case he was watching. She didn’t look back to check.

He made a few trips out to his truck, carrying big stacks of boxes. They couldn’t have been overly heavy, but still the muscles in his arms were flexed and huge. She was checking in a couple without a reservation, the Erwins, deciding to stay on a whim after a day shopping in town, when Show came up to the desk and laid the utility key ring on it. He nodded a wordless thanks and then turned away, heading out.

Both guests turned and watched him go, each with a different kind of interest—he wary and a little intimidated, she appreciative.

Mr. Erwin turned back to Shannon. “Lot of bikers around?”

Shannon smiled her best hospitality smile. “Well, Signal Bend is well known as the home of the Night Horde MC, so yes, you’ll see bikers around. They don’t spend a lot of time here, though. Mostly in town.”

Mrs. Erwin smiled. “Where in town?”

It was a question she was often asked, and she’d learned to navigate it carefully. The MC was getting a different kind of groupie. Not just girls looking for a good time, but people wanting pictures and autographs with the famous bikers. To say that the members were uncomfortable with that was to understate, and they weren’t generally a patient group. But that popularity was getting the inn up and running and the town back on its feet.

“Pretty much anywhere in town. They’re usually working, though—they kind of take care of the place, so it’s better to ask before taking a picture or anything.”

Susan Fanetti's Books