Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(88)

When the bride and groom had been sent upstairs for their wedding night, the last guests had left, and the rest of the wedding party had retired upstairs as well, Shannon handed over the inn to Wallace, the new night manager, and she went back to her man.

He was sleeping on the sofa, the television still on, now some kind of sports talk show. She turned it off, and he stirred. “Hey—I was watching that.”

“Liar.” She kicked off her pumps and patted his legs so he’d make room for her, and he sat up and pulled her close.

“How’d it go?” He brushed the backs of his fingers down her throat and into the neckline of her dress.

“Not without a hitch, that’s for sure. I’m a wreck. But the bride was pleased. I guess it’s good to have things go wrong and still pull it off, but it’s so much easier when things go right.”

Now his hand was under the hem of her dress, moving higher on her leg. “You ever think about doing that?”

She was focused on the touch of his palm and fingers sliding up her inner thigh. “What?”

“Wedding.”

“What? I do them all the time. These days, weddings feel like all I think about.”

He wrapped his arm around her legs and pulled her so that she was reclining on the sofa. He leaned over her. “Other people’s, yeah.”

She wanted his hand to finish the trip it had started up her thigh. Whimpering and not getting his point, she caught his hair in her hand and pulled him toward her. But he held back. “Shannon.”

The look in his eyes told her that she was missing something, so she focused and reconsidered their exchange. Oh. Something must have changed in her expression, because he smiled.

“Marry me, Shannon.” His hand moved again, sliding high between her legs.

As proposals went, it wasn’t sweet or romantic. It wasn’t even a request. It was direct. Pure Show.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



Show opened the door to the Signal Bend Town Library, a small, one story, red brick building set across the small town park from the small town hall. It wasn’t much, that library, but Lilli had it open and staffed with volunteers. Isaac had told him that now she was working on developing programs to bring storytellers and guest speakers in during what was becoming their peak season. The woman did not relax well, obviously.

Lilli looked up from the circulation desk as he crossed the main room. Gia was playing in the children’s area near the desk, pushing brightly colored wooden beads around intricately twisted metal tracks. There were a couple of people wandering in the stacks toward the back.

She put her hands on her hips. “If Isaac sent you here to talk to me, you can turn your a—butt around and get out. I don’t need to hear it.”

Christ. What was in the air today? “Okay—that makes three people who’ve yelled at me today with no good reason, and it’s not even noon. What the heck is going on with you people?”

At the sound of Show’s voice, Gia looked up from her toy and grinned. “Unca! Unca! Unca!” She toddled over. She’d just had her first birthday party the weekend before, and she was already walking and talking like a champ.

“That’s my little diva.” He squatted down and waited for her to get to him, then picked her up.

“Great. Great. She says “Daddy,” and she says “Uncle.” She even says “Pip.” But not “Mamma.”

Show laughed. “What is with the mood, Lilli? Your old man, too. You need to talk?”

“That’s not why you came?”

“Nope. Isaac just growled at everybody and slammed his way into his office. When I went back, he told me to fu—to get lost. I’d already been yelled at once today, so I left him be. I’m here on my own business.”

“What business is that?”

“I need some advice. About Shannon.”

“Really? Do tell.” Lilli came around the circulation desk and indicated that they should sit in the nearest seating area. Gia, realizing that Unca Show wasn’t going to be doing anything particularly interesting right now, squirmed to get down. He set her on her feet and adjusted her little yellow top, and she toddled back to her bead toy. Then he sat in the chair next to the one Lilli had taken.

The library was really just the one room, though there was space to expand should the need arise. The books all fit on about eight rows of shelves, each about fifteen feet long and six feet high. Children’s books rimmed a corner in low shelves under the windows. There were toys and beanbag chairs in that little space, and two sitting areas made up of four grouped and mismatched armchairs each. There was an old-fashioned card catalogue, which was still in use, as were the old library due date cards. Show figured Lilli didn’t have long before she was looking to modernize the place, but he liked it the way it was.

The front door opened, and Lori Mortensen, the Reverend Mortensen’s niece, came in. Lori was in her late twenties. She’d worked at the Walmart for years, and she’d struggled to do it. Show thought that all of the Horde had taken their turn at keeping her ancient rustbucket AMC Matador running so she could keep making it to that job. But when the Signal Bend IGA reopened awhile back, she’d gotten hired on as the assistant manager. Things had been looking up a little for Lori since then.

Lilli stood. “Hey, Lori. Mrs. Dirkins brought back the Agatha Christies you wanted, and I set aside a book of Edgar Allan Poe stories that was donated last week. Really wonderful illustrations by Harry Clarke.