Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(7)

“Well, we’re happy to be your distance.”

Shannon was about three months pregnant, and she was showing already, despite being generally thinner than usual. She also looked tired. Though she didn’t complain much, Adrienne knew that pregnancy had been hard on her so far. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, really. A lot less puking during the past week or so. I’m about out of the first trimester, so they tell me I should feel great any time now.” She laughed like she didn’t believe that.

“Was it like this when you were pregnant with me?” Adrienne sat down at the table.

“You know, I don’t really remember. I was so young, and there was so much going on. I wish I remembered.” She turned and smiled. “I remember the first time I felt you kick, though. That was wild.

From that point on, you were practicing your dance moves nonstop.”

Adrienne laughed. “Funny—since I can’t dance even a little now. Hey—you have a wedding today, right?”

“Yep. A small one this afternoon. Very low key, only forty-six guests. But pretty.”

“You need any help?” Adrienne had helped a few times, running interference for minor questions or helping set up. It was fun.

“Yeah? That would be great. That would be wonderful, actually.”

“Cool!”

Showdown came into the kitchen then and smiled at them both. “Now, this is a great sight for a man to start his morning. Two gorgeous redheads in their pajamas.” He bent down and kissed Adrienne’s cheek.

Then he stood behind Shannon and kissed her neck, his hands on her hips. “Morning, missus.”

“Morning. I made oatmeal for breakfast.”

Show looked into the pot. He hesitated only briefly, then said, “I see that. I’m sorry, hon, but I need an early start. Only time for coffee.”

Show did a lot of things well, but he wasn’t a good liar. Adrienne could tell that he was ducking out of breakfast, and Shannon certainly could, too. She stiffened and turned, and, to Adrienne’s stark surprise, her face crumpled into near-tears. “But I made you breakfast. Oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins. Like you like.”

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry.” Show lifted Shannon’s chin on his finger. “Thank you. I can stay for a minute and have bowl.”

“No. Never mind.” She threw the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the oatmeal, and it landed in the sink. “Just screw it and go.”

“Shannon. Hon, come on. I love that you make me breakfast.”

And then the waterworks came on full force. Through her gush of tears she moaned, “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know I’ve been making oatmeal every day for weeks, but it’s the only thing that doesn’t sound gross in the morning. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like Holly. I’m sorry.”

Now Show grabbed his wife’s head in both his huge hands and forced her face to meet his. “Hon, you need to stop that. You’re not anything like Holly. I know you’re not feeling right. I’m not mad. I love you.

Okay? Okay?”

She sniffled and nodded, and he pulled her into his arms and held her close. Adrienne felt weird and guilty, sitting at the kitchen table watching that uncomfortably intimate moment unfold, but she didn’t know how to leave without drawing attention to herself. So she sat and stared at her coffee.

Then Show sat down and Shannon served out bowls of oatmeal. It was pretty good. Not so good Adrienne would want to eat it every day for weeks, but then, she was neither pregnant nor married to someone who was.



CHAPTER TWO



Badger woke up stiff and disoriented, and sick as a dog. Dog. Fuck. Weasel.

He opened his eyes, knowing the truth already. He was still at the clubhouse. He hadn’t been back to the B&B since the previous afternoon.

He hoped Kenny had been there to bring the animals in and do the evening feed and tend. Though Kenny was supposed to have been off at five. Fuck.

Shoving a sleeping Jerri Rae off his lap, Badger stood. The room spun, and he almost fell over, but he kept his feet and started to put his dick away—oh, wait. He was still wearing a condom, now sticky and deflated-looking. The sight turned his stomach.

Really turned his stomach. He hightailed it to the main bathroom, diving to his knees in front of the toilet just in time. He retched forever, his stomach cramping fiercely, his throat burning, and his head shrieking. And his chest felt like it was tearing apart. How could it hurt so much? He had almost no sensation on the surface, the part he could touch, that anybody could touch, but underneath—it got to burn and stretch so much sometimes it was all he could do not to take his blade and cut himself free of the pain.

“Badge? You okay?”

He hadn’t managed to get the door closed, and Jerri Rae was standing in the doorway, looking disheveled and still half-drunk. The sight of her sickened him all over again. She was his friend Billy’s little sister, and he’d spent most of the night with his dick in one of her holes or another. He’d known her since she was just little, and now she was nothing but club *.

And oh shit, Adrienne. He’d done that on purpose, too. Why?

Shame and self-revulsion twisted up inside him and turned itself on Jerri Rae. “Get the f*ck away from me, bitch.” His words echoed against the porcelain bowl of the toilet.