Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Christie Craig

  The elevator doors opened again. An elderly gentleman walked out as Matt went in. Maria followed. When the doors closed, Jose was left alone. And for the second time that morning, he felt as if he’d been coldcocked.

  Maria’s heart thumped against her breastbone. What was she doing? She’d told herself that it was over with Matt, that he obviously had another woman in Dallas. That she’d been a fool to hope. But she’d seen the way he’d looked at her with Jose. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes. He was wrong about her and Jose. Was it possible that she was wrong about Dallas?

  “I heard about Jessie,” Matt said, without looking at her. “I thought you might need me. I forgot you had someone else.”

  “It’s not how it looks,” she said.

  “Then how is it?” He frowned at the elevator doors. Why wouldn’t he look at her?

  “It’s over,” she said. “It’s been over for a long time.” But even as she said that, it felt like a lie. And just like that, she knew why: it wasn’t over yet. Before it could be over, she had to tell Jose the truth.

  Jessie had been right—she had to tell Jose about the baby. It was the closure she needed. Then she had to tell Matt. She had to explain that she’d lost Jose’s baby, and because of it she might not be able to have another child.

  Maria suddenly realized that Matt was staring at her. He stared as if trying to read her thoughts.

  “You’re right,” he said. “It’s not how it looked. Because from what I just saw, it didn’t look over.”

  “He hugged me. That’s all.” That much was truth.

  Matt shook his head. “I’ve been through this once. I loved a woman who loved someone else. I paid the price. I’m still paying, and I refuse to go through it again.”

  “It’s not like that,” she repeated.

  “Really? Look me right in the eyes, Maria, and tell me you don’t love him. Tell me that he doesn’t matter to you anymore.”

  She opened her mouth to say those words, but they didn’t come out. Jose mattered. She wasn’t in love with him, but could she really say she didn’t love him? Her feelings for Jose were so mixed up. There were two Joses in her heart: Jose, the man, and Jose, Redfoot’s son. Could she explain to Matt when she didn’t understand it herself?

  Her time ran out. The elevator doors opened, and Matt walked out. Maria had the feeling he wasn’t ever coming back.

  Jose reached his father’s floor the same time Maria walked out of the other elevator. She’d been crying again.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She looked at him with a mix of anger and grief. “No, it’s not okay, Jose. It will probably never be okay.”

  Was she talking about Matt? Jose wasn’t sure if he felt happy knowing they had possibly broken up, or if he felt guilty for instigating it. He followed her down the hall. “I didn’t mean to cause problems.”

  When they got to Redfoot’s room, she reached to push the door open. He grabbed her arm. “Knock first.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s he going to do? Come answer it?”

  “Uh, it just seems like a good idea,” he replied, giving a knock.

  “Come in,” Redfoot called.

  Jose and Maria walked in. Redfoot nodded at them. Jose nodded back. Silence followed.

  “You look like day-old crap,” Redfoot finally said.

  “So do you,” Jose answered.

  “I just love the way you two show your affection. Men.” Maria gave Jose a shove. “Give your father a hug.”

  Jose did as Maria said. The old man’s arms reached up and awkwardly squeezed him.

  “I didn’t know you were coming down,” Redfoot said.

  “When I heard about the accident, I was worried.”

  “If you lived here,” Redfoot said, “you wouldn’t worry so much.”

  Well, hell. Jose thought catching his old man screwing his neighbor would have at least bought him a few minutes’ reprieve. Obviously not.

  “Have they said when you’re getting out?” Maria asked.

  “Doc just left. I got my walking papers. He said I was fit as a fiddle. Up for anything.”

  “I could have told him that,” Jose said.

  Maria gave him a strange look before returning to Redfoot. “Did he restrict you from any activities?”

  “It’s too late if he did,” Jose muttered. When Maria turned and stared, he shrugged. “I’m just saying he looks as if he could…hit one out of the ballpark.”

  “You just said he looks like crap.”

  Jose glanced out the window. “Yeah, well, that’s after he told me I look like crap.”

  “I wasn’t ‘hitting one out of the ballpark,’” Redfoot spoke up. “I was stuck.”

  Jose choked.

  Maria’s gaze shot back and forth between the two of them. “Stuck where?”

  “I’ve never heard of anyone getting stuck,” Jose said with difficulty.

  “What are you talking about?” Maria asked.

  Redfoot slapped his hand on the mattress. “Would someone get me some pants so I don’t have to show my ass as I walk the hell out of here?”

  Jose snapped. “You didn’t worry about showing it a few minutes ago.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sky had gotten Shala’s images copied to a flash drive and then got her settled at Lucas’s place with his laptop to start combing through her images. He was confident that she was safe. Not that he hadn’t called to check on her four times.

  “What? You afraid I’m going to make a play for her?” Lucas had joked.

  Sky hadn’t considered the possibility until Lucas mentioned it. Then he found himself feeling territorial. That was new for him. Sure, no man wanted a guy trying to steal his woman, but jealousy? He didn’t do that.

  Not that he was even doing it now. It was just that he hadn’t gotten started with Shala yet, and it would be easy for some other guy to step in and put an end to his start before he got to the finish. The finish? What was that? His thoughts ricocheted around in his head.

  We don’t need you breaking her heart.

  The mayor’s warning rang in his ears. Sky didn’t go around breaking women’s hearts. Most of them listened to him in the beginning. Most of them knew from the get-go that he wasn’t long-term. He and the ladies enjoyed each other’s company, and when the fun was over, one of them walked away. The fact that he usually walked first didn’t mean anything.

  You afraid I’m going to make a play for her? He dialed Lucas again.

  “Hey,” he said when his friend picked up.

  “Yeah?” Lucas said. Sky heard laughter in the background.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  “Playing Scrabble.”

  “You finally got someone to play Scrabble with you?” Before Lucas sobered up, every time he got drunk he’d begged Sky to play. The man loved word games.

  “I have to tell you, your woman cheats.”

  Your woman. Sky’s territorial feelings relaxed.

  “How does she cheat?” Sky figured he needed to know this information for future reference, but he wished like hell it wasn’t coming secondhand. He wanted to be discovering all these little things about her himself.

  “She’s trying to convince me that stanky is a word. I told her that word is what’s stanky.”

  “Which confirms it’s a word,” Shala called out in the background. She laughed again, and Sky remembered how she looked while doing it. His pangs of jealousy might have evaporated, but he was up to his eyebrows in envy. He wanted to be the one seeing her laugh, making her laugh…His gut said she didn’t do it near enough lately. He wanted to be the one to change that.

  “Has she gone through the photos?” Frustration rang in his voice, and he hated it.

  “All freaking day. I’ll bet she’s got over five hundred shots. I made her take a break.”

  Sky wanted to be the one taking care of her, insisting she needed breaks, being her hero even if she’d pointed out he didn’t hold a ca
ndle to the Hollywood cops. Who could know pushing her out of the way of a moving car wouldn’t be enough? Yeah, he’d seen she was joking, but it had dinged his ego just the same.

  “Before you ask: yes, I fed her dinner.”

  “Good,” Sky replied, and forced himself to stop acting like an idiot. “I’ll be finished here in a bit. See ya then.”

  Sky almost told Lucas to have her wait up for him but stopped. The only stupid thing he hadn’t done was to call Shala himself like a swooning teen.

  He heard Lucas disconnect, and tucked his cell back in his pocket. What the hell was wrong with him? He told himself it was the case. For eight hours he’d been working with Phillip and the rangers, and for what? Nothing. Eight hours of trying not to think about Shala and their kiss, and about how much he wanted to kiss her again. And he wanted more. How long had it been since he’d wanted a woman this badly? How long since he’d wanted more than simple sex?

  Sure, he wanted sex with Shala, but he looked forward to simply getting to know her, learning what she liked to eat and cooking it for her. Before, all the getting-to-know-you periods had been steps on the road to sex, or to keeping the sex. Now he was actually looking forward to the journey. Which led him back to his original question: what the hell was wrong with him?

  “Everything okay?” Phillip asked.

  Sky nodded. “Late night last night.”

  “A woman?” Phillip guessed.

  “Not what you think,” Sky replied, in no mood to share.

  “Why don’t you head on out? I don’t think we’re going to get anything this go-round, either.” They’d returned to the hotel to give the room one more check. But after ten minutes of milling around, even the two eager CSI guys looked bored.

  The only thing that had turned up today was Henry’s car. Without prints. The black sedan and the gun had yielded nothing, too. Whoever this creep was, he’d managed to do a few things right. Which meant he was either professional or lucky. And since his cars were impounded, the guy was either running around on foot or had stolen something different. Or he could have someone working with him.

  Questions. A lot of damn questions and no answers.

  Sky’s gaze flickered across the bloodstain on the wall. The sight still made his gut churn, though less now that Jessie was going to live. His eyes shifted to Shala’s suitcase. Sky knew Phillip wouldn’t allow anything out of the room right now. Which meant Shala would need to go shopping. He imagined going with her, learning what she liked…

  Dear God, when had he ever wanted to go shopping with a woman?

  Then he realized she wouldn’t even have a toothbrush tonight, or anything to sleep in. That was a visual he liked: her, soft and sexy in bed, an artfully arranged sheet—

  “We’re going to want to talk to Winters tomorrow,” Phillip said, interrupting Sky’s daydream. “I’ve had someone go through those images, looking for the obvious. Nothing’s jumping out. I’ll go through them tomorrow morning myself, and then I’ll call you with a time to meet.”

  “Fine,” Sky answered. “Do you want me to bring her to the station, or do you want to go to her?”

  “Where did you say she was staying?” Phillip asked, eyeing the blood and frowning.

  “With a friend of mine.”

  “Is this guy able to protect her if he has to?”

  “He’s ex-military, ex-cop,” Sky explained. He didn’t mention the present job, which was for the government—supposedly training special-ops, but Lucas remained vague with the details. Whatever he did those few weeks every six months, it afforded him his rather nice toys. Along with those boats and cars, it had also turned him into a drunk until he pulled himself together last year.

  “Why don’t you bring her down to the police station?” Phillip suggested. “Unless you’re worried she’ll be followed.”

  “I’ll bring her.” Shala would probably be getting cabin fever by then, and he couldn’t keep the woman locked up forever. As long as he or Lucas was with her, she was safe. Sky looked at his watch—it was almost nine o’clock. He still needed to go by Redfoot’s and his own place before he could get back to Shala. “I think I’ll head out.”

  He nodded his good-byes and walked out to the truck Lucas had loaned him just in case the perp had decided to track Sky’s. As he did, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. For a crazy moment he hoped it might be Shala needing to talk to him—or better, just wanting to talk to him—but it wasn’t. It was Maria. His foster sister had called a couple of times already today. He’d already dropped the bomb about her not being able to stay at his place because of the danger. She hadn’t whined, but she’d told him the tension at Redfoot’s was thick enough to serve over pancakes. And neither Redfoot nor Jose would explain.

  Obviously, being around Jose was difficult for Maria. Which was a prime example of why Sky wanted no part of the everlasting kind of love that Maria had set her heart on. Well, not the prime example, he admitted. That honor went to his parents.

  Shala watched Lucas play his last two letters and declare himself the winner.

  “You don’t give a girl a break, do you?”

  “Just because you’re female?” While probably the same height, approximate weight, and only a little older than Sky—meaning around thirty-five, over six feet tall, and carrying close to two hundred pounds of lean muscle—this was a very different man. Lucas’s build reminded her more of a football linebacker, while Sky’s seemed more suited to baseball or soccer.

  “I stopped giving girls breaks when they started getting equal pay. Plus, I hate losing at Scrabble.” Lucas laughed and ran a hand through his hair. The thick mane was short and chestnut brown. His eyes were hazel, where Sky’s were black. But there was no question that Lucas’s charming grin, a little crooked, only added to his good looks.

  “I never would have guessed,” Shala teased. She liked Lucas—felt comfortable around him. Safe. Unlike how she felt with Sky.

  Not that Sky didn’t make her feel safe physically. Hell, the man had saved her life twice: getting her out of the hotel room when that wannabe camera thief came calling, and then getting her out of the way when the SUV called back. No, the unsafe feelings she got around Sky involved desire. Kissing, touching…wanting to reopen herself to romance and love. But that meant opening herself to the possibility of being hurt again. Was she ready to go there?

  Her cell phone rang inside her purse. Her heart felt a little yank and tug, hoping that it might be Sky. He’d called Lucas several times but hadn’t called her, even though he’d gotten her number before he left.

  Not that she expected him to call, and not that she wanted him to. Okay, she did want him to, just like she wanted his kisses and all the stuff that went alongside falling head over heels for a guy. Because she was falling, damn it. She was falling for Sky Gomez. In spite of how unsafe it felt, in spite of the fact that she hadn’t known him long enough, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself. For that matter, she didn’t know if she wanted to stop herself.

  “Hello?” She answered without looking at the number. If it was Sky, maybe it would be a sign that she should take a leap of faith.

  “What size underwear do you wear, Blue Eyes?”

  Sky’s voice made her smile. Then she realized what he’d asked. “What?”

  “I didn’t know there were so many types of panties.”

  “What the heck are you doing?” Shala saw Lucas stand up and motion to the front door, indicating he would give her some privacy.

  “I’m at Wal-Mart, trying to pick you up a few essentials before they close.”

  “Can’t you bring my suitcase?”

  “It’s evidence, and it will be at least a few days before they release it.” He paused. “Do you wear bikinis? Thongs?” His voice was husky.

  She grinned, imagining him standing there daunted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never bought a woman underwear before.”

  “Sure I have. Just not at Wal-Mart.”

  “So you’re mo
re a Victoria’s Secret kind of guy?” she teased.

  “Is that where they sell the kind that come in flavors?”

  Their laughs spilled through the line at the same time, and she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. Her mind was full of unexpected and erotic images. Her heart rate increased, and she felt her cheeks burn.

  She fought back the images. “I wear a size four.”

  “What type? There’s the high tops, the low tops, the boy cuts.”

  “I’m not picky.”

  “You’ll wear a thong?” His voice was husky again.

  She hated thongs. Deplored them.

  “Will you?” Heat laced his voice.

  “Sure.” As soon as she answered, she smacked herself on the forehead. Then his low growl had her smile spreading into her chest, bringing on a giddy feeling.

  “Okay, now the next problem. What size bra?”

  “You’re getting personal,” she teased.

  “Okay, let me guess. I’d say…” He paused. “Wow, I like this one. Will a red one do?”

  She chuckled again. “Red’s fine, but not if I’m wearing a light-colored top.”

  “I’ll get one of each. This size looks right. Thirty-four C. Right?”

  “Amazing. You’re really good at that,” she said honestly. “Do you guess birthdays, too?”

  “Yours is November fifteenth,” he said. “But I found that online. Oh, I already picked you out something to sleep in.”

  She wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Yeah, I saw a few things I liked, but I was good—picked something similar to your other pajamas. But this one is blue to match your eyes.”

  “Lucas told me he’d loan me a shirt,” she spoke up, realizing her bank account was a tad thin.

  “You’re not sleeping in that man’s shirt. I’ll bring one if that’s what you prefer.”

  Was that jealousy? A little was good, because she’d already felt a pinch herself. How many women had worn flavored underwear for Sky?