Into the Storm

by Susan Fanetti

  Fuck, he missed his girls. Fuck.

  He felt Shannon’s hands on his back and came out of his bittersweet reminiscence. Turning so he could hook an arm over her and pull her close, he said, “Everything squared away?”

  “To the extent it can be. They’re not happy, and the clubhouse accommodations aren’t exactly five star, but none of that is my fault, and they’re being civil. I’m working with one of their ‘people’ in L.A. to get them new travel. I swear, it’s like dealing with toddlers. They need people to do everything for them.”

  Show grinned and kissed her temple. “Got some gossip, if you want it.”

  She looked up at him. “About Hollywood?” He nodded. “Then lay it on me.”

  “Len boned the little chick last night—Harrie.”

  He thought it was funny, but Shannon was looking up at him, appalled. “You’re kidding. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was consensual and everything?”

  He pushed her back and looked down at her, offended. The men of the Horde got overly enthusiastic and a little deaf when they were drunk, but they weren’t in the habit of forcing women. “Jesus, Shannon! Of course it was!”

  She looked appropriately abashed. “Sorry. Really. I’m just working it through. You know, the toddler thing. I don’t want backlash on the town if she regrets it.”

  “From what I hear, she doesn’t regret it.” The whole clubhouse had heard her not regret it, apparently. Kind of like it was around the B&B last night. Remembering, he grinned and pulled Shannon close again. “So I don’t think you need to worry about backlash. Len took good care of her.”

  She laid her hand on his bare stomach, sliding her fingers through the line of hair up the middle. His cock stirred. “You look seriously hot, standing here with your shirt open, but you should probably button up. The hangover triplets could stumble down at any time. We put them to bed pretty early.”

  He winked and handed her his mug so he could button his shirt. The ease he felt this morning, even as he missed his girls, astonished him. He felt good. He took the mug back and drained it. “You got a snow shovel, I expect? A blower?” He hated blowers, but shoveling gravel was a pain in the ass.

  “Both. And some kind of animal-safe ice melt stuff. But it’s all down in the barn.”

  “Not a problem. I got weather gear in my truck box. Don’t suppose I can get a hot breakfast before I get to work, though?”

  She rose up on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck. He enclosed her in his arms, his empty coffee mug still in his hand. She looked happy, too, her eyes glittering up at him. “I can make you bacon and eggs. I’m only average in the kitchen, but I can do that much.”

  “I can’t imagine you’re only average at anything.” He kissed her.

  ~oOo~

  There wasn’t bacon, but there was sausage. Show sat at the table in the B&B kitchen with a second mug of coffee and watched Shannon make him breakfast. The room was warm and bright. Cozy. About halfway through the prep, Beth dragged in, looking haggard. Glaring at them both, she poured herself a cup of coffee and then pushed Shannon aside.

  “What are you doing in my kitchen?”

  Shannon looked chastened; Show thought it was cute. She was the boss, but not in this room. “Sorry—just making breakfast. I only have cereal and instant oatmeal in the apartment.”

  “I don’t care that you’re here. I care that you’re using my eggs and sausage for that. Go sit down.” Beth looked over her shoulder at Show. “Biscuits and gravy? Eggs up, right?”

  Show nodded, feeling guilty. He would have liked Shannon to make him breakfast, and she was clearly disappointed to be derailed from the endeavor. But Beth could fucking cook. Shannon came over to the table with a cup of coffee. When she started to sit at the place next to him, he reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her onto his lap.

  “Show…” she muttered under her breath, glancing over at Beth.

  “Let ‘em talk, hon. I want ‘em to.” He hooked his hand around her hip.

  Beth looked over with a wicked grin. “Oh, we’re talkin’, don’t you worry.”

  Show laughed, and Shannon blushed all the way to her shoulders. He moved her hair from her neck and kissed the flushed skin.

  Before Beth had finished making breakfast, Rose and Marie were down, too, all of them looking like they were struggling hard with the effects of their night. But they all sat around the table and shared breakfast, Show and four women. He sat and listened to their chatter, watching them pull Shannon into the mix, and realized that she was becoming a part of the town.

  ~oOo~

  He spent several hours shoveling the walk leading to the front porch, blowing the snow from the gravel lot and drives, putting down ice-melt, and seeing to the animals. Badger, stranded at the clubhouse, had called him twice and Shannon once, fussing over his charges.

  When he came back in, the B&B was redolent with the aroma of beef stew and cornbread. His stomach rumbled appreciatively. If you’re gonna get snowbound, best to do it with a houseful of cooks. Shannon, dressed in a long, heavy knit sweater and snug dark brown knit pants—leggings or whatever they were called—that made her look warm and sexy, met him in the parlor with a steaming mug. He took it, but tossed his head back as he brought it to his mouth. “What’s this?”

  “Hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps. To warm you up.”

  He laughed. “No, hon. Rather have coffee with a kick. Or just the kick.” He set the mug on the desk and pulled her close. “Better ways to get warm, anyway.”

  When they came into the kitchen for lunch about half an hour later, Beth, Rose, and Marie glanced at them, and then each other, and giggled. Randy old broads.

  ~oOo~

  Show had kept in touch with Isaac throughout the day, to the extent that the always temperamental cell coverage in town allowed. He knew this little snowy interlude wasn’t going to last much longer. Havoc was getting the roads clear, and Don and a couple other guys with plows on their trucks were helping out on the narrow country lanes. He ignored it all as long as he could, sitting with Shannon on her white couch in front of a fire in her white sitting room, but then Len was bringing the Hollywood people back, and Show was the only Horde not working on getting the town dug out. He had to go.

  As he stood in the parlor with Shannon and the other women, pulling on his coat again, preparing to follow Rose and Marie home in a little caravan, his cell alerted a text. He pulled it out and read it. From Lilli:

  Hear you had a good night. Bring her to dinner. Tomorrow. Not a request. xoxo

  The news had made the rounds, looked like. The town grapevine was like the US Postal Service, not about to be slowed down by a little bad weather. Show grinned, imagining Rose, Marie, and Beth, unable to gossip over the diner counter or the bar, burning up their phones with their news about Show getting himself a lady friend. And that new manager down to the B&B, too!

  He turned his phone out so Shannon could read it. “Looks like we have a date tomorrow night.”

  Shannon rolled her eyes. “Um, I don’t—.” She glanced up at him, and he smiled, he hoped reassuringly, but said nothing. He understood her hesitation—they’d only just really started, and now they were right out in public. He was glad of it, but he understood it could be a lot to take on, especially for somebody still new to town.

  But finally she smiled back at him. “Okay. I guess we do.”

  ~oOo~

  Shannon hung out in the kitchen with Lilli when they first got there, and Isaac took Show out into his workshop. He was working on a dollhouse for Gia—who wasn’t yet five months old and probably not all that interested in the huge, elaborate mansion her daddy was building for her. But it was going to be spectacular, and Show understood the drive Isaac felt to build it, to make his little girl something amazing.

  Isaac had several projects in progress around the workshop: the dollhouse, a big armchair, and an elaborate chess set among the most obvious. The quieter days in Signal Bend had
given him time to focus on his other love.

  “You got any shows coming up?” Isaac used to travel a few times a year to art shows to sell his stuff, but it had been, shit, well more than a year since he’d gone out. Since before Ellis, Show thought.

  Isaac set the pieces of the dollhouse neatly on a shelf. “Don’t know. It’s quiet now, just Christmas shows in church basements and high school gyms, mostly. A couple of convention centers. Not my scene. The real season doesn’t start until late March or so. Gia’ll be eight months old then. Maybe. I’m not going without my girls, but maybe. Lilli wants me to do a website, sell shit online. She and Shannon put something together for the B&B, and she’s all het up about it. I don’t know. Sounds a little cheesy to me.”

  “Strange to have things so quiet, huh? Worrying about websites and shit.”

  Isaac laughed. “Yeah.” He pulled a couple of beers out of a small fridge under his worktable and handed one to Show. “That serious, you and Shannon?”

  Show took a long swallow of the cold brew. “Don’t know. I think I want it to be. Early days, though.”

  “Well, you’re different, brother, these past couple of weeks. Looser. Lighter. If that’s her, then I’m for it. You need some ease.”

  Show huffed a laugh. Yeah, he needed it. He was still struggling with whether he deserved it. But when Shannon was around, he felt like he did. He felt, as Isaac had said, looser and lighter. Fuck, he felt younger.

  Just then, there was a knock on the door. Cocking an eyebrow at Show—nobody knocked—Isaac called out, “Yeah, come in,” and Shannon opened the door.

  She was fucking gorgeous, wearing a navy pea coat and faded jeans tucked into a pair of tall brown boots. Under that coat, Show knew, was a green knit top that he loved. It wrapped around her somehow, leaving a deep V, showing her pale, smooth, perfect cleavage. That top made it hard to keep his hands to himself.

  “I’m not going to quote her, but Lilli says, essentially, it’s time for dinner and you should come in now.”

  Isaac and Show both laughed. Lilli had a sharp sarcastic streak and a colorful way with words, and there was very likely some insult to their manhood involved in the direct quote. They nodded and followed Shannon back to the house, Show catching her hand in his, Isaac lagging back to kill the lights.

  Supper was good. Lilli was a great cook and a decent baker. Gia was down for a late nap while they ate, and conversation, though muted in volume, was lighthearted and lively. Four friends around a table, sharing food and drink. Show noticed that Shannon was quiet at first, listening more than participating, but Lilli drew her in, and it wasn’t long before she was sharing stories of her own. Eventually, Lilli brought up the night of the storm, and Shannon didn’t blink. It might be that she’d had a few glasses of wine, but she told the story of the drunk cooks with relish, even though that meant telling part of the story of their own night.

  Gia woke up as they were finishing desert. Her angry wails filled the house; they had audio monitors in every room and video monitors in the kitchen, living room, and their bedroom. They’d eaten in the kitchen, and Show stood up. “I got her, Mama. Finish your tiny apple pie thing.”

  He went up to Gia’s room on the second floor. She’d rolled to her tummy and was lifting up on her hands, yelling furiously. “Hey, little diva. Come to Uncle Show.” She quieted as soon as he put his hand on her back. Damn, he loved this little thing. It was dumb, he knew, but he felt Daisy around her.

  He turned her onto her back and grabbed a diaper from the changing table. He hated changing tables; they didn’t seem secure to him, and the thought of putting a belt around a baby you were trying to change was just stupid. So he changed her in her crib, cooing and talking nonsense at her while he did. She stared seriously at him, her green eyes focused sharply. When he had her clean and snapped back into her little fleece footie pajamas, he tossed the diaper and picked her up.

  She immediately grabbed a fistful of his beard and tried to pull it to her mouth. When that didn’t work, she brought her mouth to her fist, sucking avidly. He unwound her hand, and she grabbed his hair instead. He laughed and gave up.

  When he walked back into the kitchen, Shannon was staring at him oddly. It gave him some pause—she looked angry, or scared, or he didn’t know what, and he wasn’t sure what could have happened in the ten minutes he was gone. But then Lilli stood and started to clear the table, and Shannon got up to help her, and that strange moment was gone.

  He and Isaac sat in the living room and talked about the Hollywood thing. The writers and photographer were finally gone, and they were back in a holding pattern, waiting to see what kind of script came out of that ordeal. Isaac had concerns, concerns Show shared, about how the town would come off. They didn’t want to be country bumpkins, like something out of a sitcom, but they didn’t want their meth dealings featuring too prominently, either. They knew the story they wanted told.

  They’d gotten a stunning reprieve from law, in large part because public sentiment was so strongly in their favor after they’d (mostly inadvertently) taken down a drug kingpin and two big St. Louis gangs—and in even larger part because Lilli featured prominently in the true events, and she had been involved in deep cover government work, unrelated to the events but still extremely sensitive. There’d been a great deal of pressure from very high up the food chain to let the MC and the town off the hook for their own illicit dealings. But there was no sense waving that reprieve around like a red flag.

  “They turn this thing into some kind of melodramatic bullshit, and I’m gonna want those assholes back here as loose parts.”

  “We got approval on the script, boss. They’re assholes, especially the guys, but I think they know what they risk, pissing us off. Let ‘em do their thing, and we’ll see what we see.”

  “I just don’t want ‘em going rogue. They talked to a lot of people. They get more curious than they should, they can cause us trouble.”

  Gia had been sucking on a teether; now she threw it to the floor. Show bent and picked it up, setting it on the table in front of him. She screamed and stretched for it. “Sorry, missy. It hit the floor. You’re outta luck.” Isaac reached into a basket and tossed him another. He caught it midair and handed it to the baby.

  “These were the risks we knew, Isaac. We gotta be ready. If they forget their place, we can remind them. Too late not to see this through.”

  “I know, I know. Hey—since we’re talking shop, let me show you the papers for the market. Mac has a buyer, and the mayor wants our input on it before he takes it to the council.”

  Shannon came into the room. “You guys need another round?”

  Show shook his head. “Not me, but”—he stood and walked to her—“you want to take Gia for me? We’re taking a few minutes for shop talk.” He held Gia out, expecting Shannon to take her, but she reacted as if he were handing her toxic waste, or an angry alligator. She literally jumped back, her hands coming up in the universal signal for oh shit, absolutely not.

  He barked a surprised laugh. “What’s the matter, hon? Never held a baby? I promise she won’t bite. Not hard, anyway—no teeth yet.” He held Gia out again, and Shannon took another step back.

  “No. No. I’ll—uh—I’ll get Lilli.”

  Show settled Gia back on his shoulder. “No. S’okay. I’ll take her with me.” He eyed Shannon carefully. She looked distraught, upset far beyond the measure of the moment. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” She turned and went back into the kitchen.

  When Show turned around, he came face to face with Isaac, whose expression was as confused and surprised as Show felt.

  “What was that about?”

  Show shook his head. “I got no idea.”

  He’d told her he wouldn’t ask about her secrets, and he wasn’t a man who went back on his word. But she had some, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

  But he could be patient. If his life had taught him nothing else, it had taught him th
at.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Shannon looked out the side window at the passing scenery. Even at night the landscape was breathtaking, with a clear sky and a bright moon. Although it had been two days since the storm, and the roads were mostly clear, the snow covering fields and forests was still pristine, and the moonlight and starshine glittered over the surface and on the winter-bare trees still coated with ice. Living in a city, snow was grimy and downtrodden within hours of the last fallen flake. Shannon had forgotten how truly beautiful snow was.

  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.