Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Christie Craig

  “And now we have our connection,” Phillip said.

  Sky shook his head. “But why the hell was this Conners guy all worked up over Shala’s camera?”

  “Maybe they knew she managed to get Charlie’s picture. Maybe Conners suspected she’d caught him on film,” Lucas said.

  “That makes sense,” Phillip said.

  “It still doesn’t fit,” Sky said. “I mean, I know Charlie didn’t want Shala here, but to hire a hit man?”

  “Maybe he didn’t have to hire him,” Phillip added. “Maybe this guy did it as a favor. Hell, maybe Rainmaker realized how far the guy was going to take it and told him to fuck off. That’s probably what got Rainmaker killed.”

  “No.” Sky pressed his hand on his desk. “I don’t buy it.”

  Phillip said, “We’ll talk to the guy’s brother, maybe—”

  “That’s gonna be hard,” Lucas interrupted. “He died about a month ago. My sources say natural causes, nothing suspicious.”

  “Who the hell are you, and who are your sources?” Phillip demanded.

  “I just know the right people,” Lucas replied.

  “It just keeps getting worse,” Sky seethed, ignoring them.

  “Worse?” Lucas asked. “We know who he is. We got a connection with this guy and Charlie. With Charlie gone, Conners doesn’t have a fight with Shala. Shala’s no longer in danger. I wouldn’t call that worse. I’d say we’re a step further on.”

  “Did you tell Shala?” Sky’s heart bumped around his chest.

  “Of course I did. She’s ecstatic.”

  Which meant she’d be going back to Houston.

  “You have a talent, young lady. You owned that room,” Redfoot said as Shala and Sky walked into his house half an hour after meeting the tribal council. Shala felt his praise all the way to her toes.

  “Thank you. And thank you for being my ally. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She hugged him and hung on a few minutes because it felt so good. God, she missed her grandparents, missed the feel of older, wiser arms wrapped around her.

  “Another hugger,” Redfoot muttered.

  “Get used to it,” Maria said, bouncing into the room and hugging her as soon as Shala released her father. “Congrats. Redfoot said there’s no way the council wouldn’t give you everything you asked for.”

  “Really?” Shala met the older man’s gaze. “You really think they’ll agree to everything?”

  Redfoot looked at Sky. “Your woman should have been a lawyer. You should have seen her. She charmed the socks off them.”

  “I would have seen, if you guys had let me come,” Sky said.

  Shala glanced at him. Sky had been tense all afternoon. She suspected it was about her going back to Houston. She’d told Lucas that she’d probably leave this weekend, but Sky hadn’t mentioned it yet.

  “You know the rules,” Redfoot said. “Only the tribal council is present when—”

  “Don’t have to like them,” Sky interrupted.

  “Something smells good,” Shala spoke up.

  “Paella. Estella’s recipe.” Maria looked at Sky. “Don’t start saying I added too much garlic.”

  “I’ll make him behave.” Shala reached for his hand.

  “That’s a pretty big promise,” Lucas’s voice boomed from the doorway. Shala turned and almost laughed at what he carried in his hands.

  “Lucas!” Maria said and grinned. “Thank you for reconsidering.”

  Shala leaned in and mock-whispered, “What did you do, promise we’d play Scrabble?”

  Maria giggled. “Just one game.”

  “Come in,” Redfoot said.

  As the men walked inside, Maria eyed Shala. “Redfoot’s happier today. Thanks for agreeing to this.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” Shala admitted. “Can I run to the bathroom, and then I’ll help with dinner?”

  “It’s the second door on the left. Just past the hole in the wall that looks just like Jose’s face.” Maria grinned.

  Shala hotfooted it down the hall, her bladder pinching. She had just grabbed the knob when the door swung open. And there was Jose, standing in front of her, naked. Well, he had a white towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Oh fuck! Sky’s going to kill me.” He slammed the door.

  Shala went back into the living room, trying not to laugh, and found Maria. “Is there another bathroom? I think that one is occupied.” She almost told her friend the whole story, then decided Jose might prefer she didn’t.

  “My room, first door to the left.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later, bladder happy, she walked back out into the hall. At the same time, Jose exited the room next to Maria’s. At least he had clothes on this time.

  He shrugged guiltily and motioned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone had arrived yet. I was just going to pop across the hall.”

  Shala grinned. “It’s okay. I think we got here early.”

  Jose smiled. “We’ve met, but I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.”

  “Geez, without the pink robe, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  He laughed, and it sounded a lot like Redfoot. Shala decided she liked Jose.

  Thirty minutes after they arrived, Sky was seated at the dining-room table with Jose, Redfoot, and Lucas. The men were playing Scrabble while Shala helped Maria in the kitchen.

  “That’s not a word,” Lucas said.

  “Is too. Wacoi.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a sacred word,” Redfoot said.

  “You don’t want to know,” Sky muttered under his breath.

  “You know what sacred word comes to my mind right now? Bullshit! You can only use English. Only English,” Lucas insisted.

  His friend and Redfoot were arguing about using Native American words. Sky laughed. In spite of worrying himself sick about Shala leaving, being here was fun. Every few minutes he’d peer into the kitchen, and something about seeing Shala in the kitchen of the house where he’d grown up felt perfectly right.

  “Jose,” Lucas said, “it’s your turn. And don’t be pretending to read the paper when I know you’re looking for words.”

  Jose grinned. “This man takes his Scrabble serious, huh?” He stared down at the wooden bar with his letters, then started setting out his word. “I wasn’t cheating, I was reading. An article about Senator Blanton. Did you know he went to high school in Bueford? Says here he was quarterback for the Bueford Bulldogs. Heck, we might have played against each other when I was on the football team.”

  “Put him down for eight points,” Lucas said, counting Jose’s points.

  Sky tallied up the total. “He’s a lot older than you, isn’t he?”

  Jose looked back at the newspaper as if checking the man’s picture and guessing his age. “Yeah. But damn, it would have been pretty neat to think I knocked the president on his ass a time or two.”

  “With him having ties to this community, maybe if he runs for president he’ll do something for Precious and the other small towns around here.” Redfoot eyed the board with intensity. “I’ve read some good things about him.”

  “Don’t tell Maria,” Sky replied, glancing into kitchen again to get another peek at Shala. “She doesn’t care for the guy.”

  “Maria has good taste,” Lucas spoke up.

  “You know some dirt on him?” Sky asked.

  “Not really,” his friend said. Then, “Are we playing Scrabble or talking politics?”

  “You know who would make a good politician?” Redfoot looked at Sky. “Your woman. She shined today.”

  Sky looked through the doorway again. His woman. Why was it that hearing Redfoot refer to her as that bothered him less each time he heard it?

  “Has Matt called?” Shala asked, sensing there was something on Maria’s mind.

  “No,” Sky’s sister replied. “Thank goodness.”

  “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but if you two
really love each other, then maybe—”

  “Not happening.” Maria looked away. Again, Shala got the feeling there was something going unsaid. “Can you get the salad dressing out?”

  Translated, that meant “shut the heck up.” And Shala had to respect Maria’s wishes.

  Laughter echoed from the dining room, and both Maria and Shala glanced that way. “You have no idea how good that is to hear,” Maria said. “I swear, no one has laughed in this house all week.”

  “Does that include you?” Shala asked.

  Before Maria could answer, Sky sauntered in. “I smell garlic,” he teased.

  Maria waved a spoon at him. “Get out of my kitchen.”

  He laughed. “Just came for tea.” He refilled his glass and then moved behind Shala. Leaning down, he said, “I’m proud. Redfoot just keeps praising you.”

  She smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

  He kissed her and said, “We need to talk tonight.”

  “About?” She hoped he’d say that he figured it was time for them to put a name on what was happening between them. Sure, he acted crazy about her, but words made the feelings real. Shala needed real.

  “It’s not safe for you to leave yet,” he said.

  She didn’t argue. Later, they’d talk. But it obviously wouldn’t be about them. That hurt.

  When Sky walked off, Shala saw that Redfoot had stepped into the kitchen. He stood by the stove talking to Maria. A moment later, the man walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You make him happy, Blue Eyes.”

  Shala smiled. “He makes me happy, too.” And he did—if he’d just open up a little, Shala added to herself.

  Soon they all sat at the dining-room table and were feasting. Dinner conversation was composed of funny stories about Jose, Maria, and Sky. There was a lot of laughter. Shala couldn’t remember ever enjoying a meal more. It wasn’t the food—not that it wasn’t wonderful—but the company that she enjoyed most. Afterward, Redfoot poured them all shots of dessert wine. Lucas, Shala noticed, stuck with his tea.

  Sitting at this table, Shala felt part of a family. Several times, tears threatened. She realized that not only was she inches away from falling for Sky, she was equally close to falling for his family and his friends.

  Redfoot set filled glasses in front of everyone and raised his own. “A family toast. To more dinners where everyone is here,” he announced, his gaze on Jose. Shala noted guilt flash in the younger man’s eyes.

  “To accepting our differences,” Maria offered, almost to make a point.

  “To Scrabble,” Lucas said, and everyone laughed.

  “To food without too much garlic.” Sky grinned at Maria.

  It was Shala’s turn, but she didn’t have to think too hard. “To family.”

  All eyes turned to Jose, the last person. He smiled. “To Sky finally accepting that Shala is his soul mate, just as Redfoot’s spirits said.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Everyone’s arms remained raised, but no glass-tapping followed. Shala stared at Jose. “Say, what?” That’s when she realized everyone stared at her.

  Sky lowered his wineglass and glared at Jose.

  “What?” his brother seemed surprised. “Don’t tell me she doesn’t know.”

  “Know what?” Shala set her glass down and gazed around the table. Not one person would meet her eye except Sky.

  “It’s nothing,” he growled.

  She chuckled nervously. “It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

  “I made pie and coffee!” Maria said, drawing Shala’s attention. Maria didn’t look away this time but shrugged guiltily, as if admitting there was something she’d kept secret.

  “I would love pie,” Lucas said.

  Shala studied him, wondering if he knew what they were talking about. When the man wouldn’t look at her, she figured he did.

  She shifted her focus to Redfoot. He looked at her, but he’d gone back into his wooden-statue mode.

  “Well, why didn’t someone tell me I wasn’t supposed to say anything?” Jose hissed.

  “Just shut your god damn mouth,” Sky seethed. He rose from the table and eyed Shala. “Are you ready to go?”

  Bam. Just like that, guilt chased away Shala’s happy mood, though she couldn’t quite figure out how this was her fault. Regardless, she couldn’t stop herself from apologizing. “I’m sorry.” She placed her napkin on her plate. “Maybe I should help with the dishes first.”

  “No,” Maria said. “I’ve got them.”

  “Okay.” Shala gave up. “Dinner was great.” And as she walked out of the room, she realized that she no longer felt like a part of this family. How had it happened?

  Redfoot sat at the table, staring at his wine. Awkwardness still permeated the air. Lucas got up to leave next. “You are welcome in my home anytime,” Redfoot said to him.

  “Thank you,” Lucas answered, and Maria walked him to the door.

  Jose sat on the opposite side of the table, looking uncomfortable, as he probably should. “I swear to God, no one told me not to say anything.”

  Redfoot felt bad for his son, but he also felt sorry for Sky, who no doubt now faced the hardest part of his journey with Shala Winters. The dream last night had told Redfoot that Sky and Shala’s path was not fully walked. The same went for Matt and Maria. Yet to be seen was where their roads and hearts would lead them.

  As for Veronica, the spirits had not answered his question. Redfoot surmised they were angry that he had lied. Not that Redfoot would change anything. He would not force Veronica into marriage, even if it meant going against them.

  “All someone had to do was tell me,” Jose continued.

  Redfoot sipped his last bit of wine. “I suppose we all understood that no one likes to be told that their destiny is set.”

  “Really?” Jose leaned forward, pushing his arms on the table. “Then why is it you do that to me all the time?”

  Redfoot reclined. “How do I do this to you?”

  Jose held out a hand. “It’s not important. Forget it.” He stood up and walked out, leaving Redfoot alone at the table.

  “What isn’t important?” Redfoot asked the empty room. Then he looked inside his heart to find the answer.

  Shala sat quietly in Sky’s truck for five minutes before the words and frustration just came bubbling out. “Are you really not going to explain? How can you just sit there and not explain? How could—?”

  “Stop!” Sky held up his hand. “For God’s sake, woman, please don’t start jabbering!”

  His anger, his tone, raked over her like broken glass. “Jabbering? Do I…jabber?”

  “Yes, you jabber! When you’re nervous, when you’re upset, and sometimes even when you’re happy. And it hurts my ears.”

  She felt herself lose it, but she didn’t care. “Well, maybe I jabber because you just sit there and never say a freaking word while the elephant squats in the middle of the room, hikes up his tail, exposes his pink little asshole, and takes a big crap. Maybe I jabber because I’m trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head about us. Maybe…” She slammed her body back against the seat. “Is my car fixed yet?”

  Sky let go of a deep growl and yanked the truck over to the side of the road, coming to a sudden, tire-screeching halt.

  “Do you want me to get out?” Shala faced him, adrenaline doing marathons through her bloodstream.

  “No!” He reached for her but she pulled away. “It’s stupid,” he said.

  “What’s stupid?” Tears climbed up her throat. “My jabbering, or the fact that you and your whole family have some secret about me and are obviously laughing behind my back!”

  “No one is laughing.”

  “You said it was stupid.”

  He raked a hand over his face. “It is stupid, but we’re not laughing at you.” He leaned back and stared at the roof of his truck. “Okay, here it is. Redfoot believes that the People’s spirits send him dreams. He believes these dreams told him you
and I are soul mates.”

  Shala brushed her palm over her jean skirt, remembering the odd meeting she’d had with Redfoot when she first met him. “He dreamed that I was your soul mate?”

  “Yes. I told you it was stupid.”

  “When did he have this dream?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “When did he have this dream?” she insisted.

  “About three weeks before you came into town.”

  She sat there taking everything in. Or tried to. “Is that why you were so rude to me when I first—”

  “I wasn’t rude, I—”

  “You followed me around and took my camera.”

  “You took a picture.”

  “I did not take a picture!”

  “Okay. I thought you took a picture. And I followed you around because…” He fisted his hands around the steering wheel. “Okay, maybe I followed you instead of introducing myself because I didn’t want Redfoot to start believing in his own nonsense.”

  “Then why did you change your mind? Because someone was after me?”

  “Yes and no. Mostly because I realized how stupid it was.”

  “What was stupid?”

  “The whole freaking thing! I don’t believe in this.”

  “Believe in what? The dreams, or that we’re soul mates?”

  “Both. Relationships play their course. They last as long as they last. I’m not a soul-mate type of person. I don’t believe in that crap.”

  He didn’t believe? She tried to wrap her mind around what he really meant. “You don’t believe in love.”

  He sat there staring at her. “Come on, Shala. We talked about this.”

  Her mind raced. “We did?”

  “Yes.”

  “When? Because I don’t recall us ever—”

  “The afternoon at my office. I told you I wanted to just live for the moment, enjoy…I told you this was hard.”

  The emotional upheaval in Shala’s chest was imploding her heart. “Yes, you said it was hard, you said we just needed to enjoy it, but somehow you left off that little part about you thinking it wouldn’t last and that you didn’t expect it to ever lead anywhere. Or that you’d never really care—”