Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Christie Craig

  She’s your soul mate. The wacoi confirmed it.

  Redfoot’s words echoed in his mind, but he tossed them into a mental blender. Not only did he not believe in that stuff, he knew himself better than any prophecy ever could. But did Shala? Did she know him enough to not expect much? Lucas had been right: Shala wasn’t his normal type. His type didn’t have that hint of innocence, that touch of vulnerability. His type wouldn’t be misconstruing what had just happened.

  Then again, Shala had practically told him she didn’t want to get involved because of her ex. She’d implied she didn’t want to go down that whole serious-relationship path. All he had to do was clarify that they both understood their limits, and then all these yin and yang feelings would fade. Right?

  She plucked at the sheet again and tugged it higher. “Can I have the coffee?” she asked.

  Realizing he’d been staring like an idiot, Sky moved. He set the tray down, sat, and handed her a cup. He took his own. “Did you sleep well, Blue Eyes?”

  “When I was sleeping I did.”

  Her sexy grin pulled him closer. Damn, she was beautiful. “I hope that’s not a complaint.”

  She chuckled. “Not at all.” Her gaze shifted to her coffee, and when she looked up, her eyes held a different glint—one that reminded him of the “Wedding March” and Jaws. “Am I going to talk to the Texas Rangers today?”

  “Yeah, it’s set for ten.” He looked at the time. “I’ll probably just hang out here and take you in.” He sipped his coffee and ached to touch her. Oh, hell, he ached to tug the sheet away and have a repeat performance of last night. The idea shot a lot of blood down south.

  She nodded. “But after that I should probably get back to Houston.”

  He nearly choked. “Go? Are you freaking kidding? The idiot tried to run you down in a car and he shot Jessie. What in God’s name are you thinking, woman?”

  She blinked those vulnerable blue eyes at him. “You said it would only be a couple of days. That’s passed, and—”

  “That’s before he tried to make roadkill out of you and nearly murdered a friend of mine.” When she dropped her head on her sheet-draped knees and groaned, he added, “I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk away from here right now.”

  She raised her eyes. “I know you’re right, but I have a life, my job, my house, a missing computer, and a police report to make, and it’s all in Houston. And Lucas has been great, and you’ve been great, but what am I supposed to do? Put my whole life on hold until you catch the guy?”

  The fact that he’d been referred to as great in the same sentence as Lucas—and came second in the lineup—bothered Sky more than he wanted to admit. Then another bothersome realization jumped into place: her leaving annoyed him on many levels, some of which had nothing to do with her being in danger. The whole thought process didn’t make sense, because he’d just concluded distance from her would be a good thing.

  Baffled, he pushed all his insane thoughts aside and tried to think like a cop. He set his cup on the bedside table and said, “Okay, let’s look at the options. You can put your life on hold for a little longer, stay here where people are more than willing to watch out for you, or go home alone where there’s a damn good chance you’ll get killed. Now, which one seems like the better deal?”

  Shala didn’t get to answer, because Sky’s phone rang. He picked it up from the bedside table and saw it was Trooper Pete Dickens. Holding up a silencing finger, he took the call.

  “Yeah?”

  “You want the good news or the bad news?” Pete asked.

  “Both,” Sky snapped, having no patience for games.

  “I think I can explain the shots your friend heard.”

  “And?” Sky asked.

  “And I found Charlie Rainmaker. Unfortunately, that’s how I know about the shots.”

  “Shit! Is he—?”

  “Dead?” Pete said. “Afraid so.”

  Sky moved off the bed. “I’m on my way.”

  Staring at the door, Shala pinched off a bite of buttered croissant, poked it into her mouth, and swallowed without tasting. Sky had kissed her and left, saying only that he had to go and would call. Something bad had happened—she’d gathered that. And from the way he’d looked at her, as if he had more ammunition to keep her in town, she gathered it had something to do with her neighborhood stalker.

  “Lovely! Just lovely!” she muttered, Nana’s favorite sarcastic saying. Then she dropped her plate on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest again.

  What she wouldn’t give for Nana to be alive right now, because she needed to talk to a woman. She needed someone she could talk to about the budding emotions causing hurricane-sized havoc in her heart. She could call her sister-in-law, Beth, but honestly, she’d never really bonded with her brother’s wife. Calling her now to say, “I had awesome, multiple-orgasm, curl-your-toes-up, headboard-banging sex, and I’m afraid it’s the biggest mistake I’ve made since I had mediocre sex with my ex-husband”…well, that just didn’t feel right. Then again, she wasn’t sure she’d have told Nana that, either.

  I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk away from here right now. Sky’s words floated through her head. He was right about her safety, but seriously, how long could she stay? She had things to do, things to attend to…and more importantly, things to run from. And those didn’t include her stalker. More like awesome, multiple-orgasm, curl-your-toes-up, headboard-banging sex.

  “Everything is so freaking fucked up!”

  Sky looked up from his desk at Maria, who charged into his office with all the subtlety of a pissed-off elephant.

  “Yup.”

  Leaning back in his office chair, he agreed totally with her assessment. His last four hours had been spent staring at Charlie Rainmaker’s corpse, combing over the crime scene with the Texas Rangers, and trying to make heads or tails of just how involved Charlie was with everything that had been going on. He knew Charlie was adamantly against bringing Shala into town, and finding several photos of her on the man’s cell phone proved he’d been following her. Phillip had interviewed a group of people who’d attended one of Charlie’s protest meetings, and they admitted that Charlie had insinuated that Shala could probably be “easily convinced” to up and leave town. And he knew the person willing to do it.

  Contributing to Sky’s bad mood was the phone call he’d just had with Candy Peterson about her reasons for not wanting to file charges against her abusive husband. Thankfully, he’d managed to talk her into it. Getting off the phone with Candy, he’d found missed messages on his cell: Jose wanting to talk to him about Maria, and Matt—Maria’s married ex—presumably wanting to talk about her, too. The third message was from Redfoot, asking what Sky had done with his pills. And all this had been served up while he was still dealing with his emotions regarding Shala. Yup, Maria’s assessment of “fucked up” pretty much described it all.

  Maria slammed her purse on his desk and dropped down in the chair in front of him. The tears in her eyes kept Sky from handing her his cell phone and telling her to call someone who cared. Because he did care. He cared about Maria. He cared about Jose. He cared about Redfoot. He cared about Charlie Rainmaker’s wife, whom he’d left sobbing in her living room. He even cared about Candy Peterson—well, he cared more about her little girl. And damn it to hell and back, he cared about Shala Winters. A lot. So much so that she was at the top of his list of worries.

  “What’s wrong?” He pushed a box of tissues toward Maria.

  “I punched Matt. Hit him hard on the nose.”

  “Okay,” Sky said, not knowing what else to say. Matt, unlike the others, didn’t inspire even an iota of caring. “He hasn’t filed charges against you, so I don’t have to arrest you yet. A good thing, since I’m tired of having to lock up my own family.” It was a bad joke, but he didn’t have a lot of energy left. Seeing her tears, he wouldn’t mind giving Matt a punch himself. He didn’t know crap about relationships, bu
t lying about being married always deserved a hammering.

  “It hurt like hell,” she sniffled. “But it felt fabulous.”

  He remembered how it had felt to hit Mr. Peterson last night. “As long as you don’t make it a habit, it’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not fine! He lied to me, Sky. He’s married, and now he comes into my kitchen and announces that I can’t give Jose another chance because I still love him!”

  “What?”

  “He told Jose that I still love him,” Maria said, and the fact that she didn’t deny it said a whole lot more. “What makes it worse is I think Redfoot is the one that took Matt there. Why would he do that?”

  Sky shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”

  “Then Veronica comes charging in, saying that the tribal council is going to force her to marry Redfoot. Matt’s all worried about my hand, and Jose just stands there with his pants filled with mustard and doesn’t say a thing!”

  Sky shook his head again. “What? You almost had me until you got to the mustard part.”

  “It’s not important.” Maria grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

  Sky scratched his chin. “Okay, Redfoot’s not going to be forced to do anything he doesn’t want to do. And I’m sure Ms. Cloud will—”

  “But that’s just it. Why didn’t we know about that?”

  Sky shrugged. “Redfoot obviously—”

  “You know what I think?” she interrupted. “I think we didn’t see it because we’re so fucking busy burying our heads in the sand. I buried my head in the sand when it came to Matt and his weekends in Dallas. I buried my head in the sand about how Jose feels about us.”

  Sky didn’t know whether to listen or ask. He decided to ask. “Uh, how does Jose feel about us?”

  “He’s jealous.”

  “Of us?”

  “Mostly you.”

  “Of me? Please. The guy has a couple-hundred-thousand-dollar-a-year job, probably drives a hundred-thousand-dollar car, lives in—”

  “That has nothing to do with it. You’re more like Redfoot’s son than Jose is.”

  “No. I refuse to take that on. When Jose was living here, I purposely didn’t join in on anything those two did together. I didn’t even do science projects, because that was their thing. I didn’t go on those father-son camping trips…”

  “You did the powwows,” Maria accused.

  “Only because Redfoot insisted!”

  Maria sighed. “I’m not saying you did anything wrong, Sky. But remember that Redfoot insisted Jose do it, too, and he didn’t because he hated it. And you enjoyed it.”

  “I didn’t enjoy it. I respected it. There’s a difference.” Even today, Sky participated in the powwows only because he respected the culture. He didn’t believe—at least, not in everything.

  “Truth is, you’ve always had more in common with Redfoot than Jose. Jose is no fool. He could see that. I can see it, looking back. Jose is like Estella.”

  This was more crap to care about, and Sky didn’t think he could handle it now. “If Jose wants to be close to his dad, he should move back here.”

  She shook her head. “He would be miserable.”

  “So it’s my fault that he hates Precious?”

  Maria rolled her eyes. “You’re not listening. It’s not your fault. It’s not about you—it’s about them. Estella used to be the link between them, and when she died they lost touch. I should have seen it. I should have done something a long time ago.”

  Sky shook his head. “It’s not your job, or mine, to ‘do something.’”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t fix Matt, I can’t fix Veronica and Redfoot, I can’t fix you and Shala, but I can fix Jose and Redfoot. Or I can try.”

  “Me and Shala? How the hell did we get on your list?” He shook his head. “You can’t go around trying to fix people.”

  “Really? For a guy who makes his living doing just that, that’s a pretty big statement. You don’t just run this town, you babysit it. Drunks call you to give them a ride home in the middle of the night. When you know I’m upset, you just drop by like you did yesterday. When I lost my client last year, and I was worried about money, I suddenly get a call from your friend in Austin to keep his books for him. If Redfoot’s truck so much as hiccups you’ve got Ramon fixing it, and you pay for most of the bill and don’t tell him…”

  Sky just shrugged. “But I still don’t stick my nose in other people’s business.”

  “Yeah, right.” Maria stood and walked around the desk to smother him in one of her hugs. “Thank you.”

  “For what now?” he asked, confused.

  She pulled back. “For making me see I needed to stop thinking about me and start thinking about other people.”

  “I did that?” he said. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

  She smiled. “Okay, then, thank you for listening.” She gave him another hug. “And for caring.”

  Caring—that might just be the death of him, Sky thought as he watched her leave.

  He looked at the clock on the wall. In twenty minutes, Lucas was bringing Shala here to meet with Phillip and the rangers. Due to the discovery of Charlie’s body, they’d rescheduled for the afternoon.

  A sudden commotion from out front, raised voices and clatters, caught his attention. What was it now?

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sky jumped up, but the ruckus in the front of the station ended with the slamming of the front door. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Sky expected to see Martha poke her head in and inform him of what was going on, but instead Matt appeared. Maria’s Matt. And he had his hand over his bleeding nose.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, and sat down in the chair Maria had just vacated.

  “My sister again?” Sky asked, pushing the tissues to Matt.

  “Yeah. She seems to have taken a liking to hitting me. As has Jose.”

  Sky leaned back. “To be honest, I’m thinking of doing it myself. You lied to her.”

  Matt pulled several tissues from the box and tried to stanch the bleeding. “I’m not guilty of what she thinks, and it’s killing me. I can’t sleep, eat. All I think about is her.”

  Sky crossed his arms on his chest. “Not thinking about your wife, huh?”

  Matt shook his head. “I’m divorced.”

  “You got another woman in Dallas?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Matt pulled a picture from his shirt pocket and pushed it over. “She’s my world.”

  Sky looked down at the little girl’s face, so much like the man standing in front of him. “Your daughter?”

  Matt nodded. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” He let go of a deep breath through his mouth. “Redfoot came to see me this morning. He said I needed to tell Maria the truth. He assured me that whatever she had with Jose is over.”

  “Redfoot knew you were divorced?” Sky asked.

  “Yeah, he said he dreamed it. How fucking weird is that? Anyway, I went to the house to explain, and Maria hit me then, too.” He shuddered. “She’s getting better at it. She hit me a lot harder this time. Next time she’ll probably knock me out.”

  “I hope you’re not here to press charges, because—”

  “No,” Matt said. “Redfoot suggested I talk to you about Maria.”

  Sky laughed. “Do I look like Dr. Phil? I’m so not the person to come to for relationship advice.” He had his own problems. Huge ones.

  Matt studied him. “So you’re not going to help me?”

  Sky leaned forward. “The only advice I can give is to tell her the truth.”

  “I would, if she didn’t sock me every time I tried.” Frustration echoed in his voice. “Can’t you talk to her?”

  “Me?”

  “Just tell her to hear me out.” Matt stood and walked to the door, fleeing as if he was afraid Sky would tell him no. “I appreciate it.” He left.

  Sky slumped back in his chair. He hadn’t quite gotten his head around Matt’s request when another commotion explod
ed from the front office. Martha’s scream brought Sky to his feet, but he was only halfway around his desk before footsteps sounded down the hall. Jose shot through the office door, also with a bloody nose.

  Sky motioned. “Let me guess. Matt?”

  “Yeah. Fucker hit me and walked off—the cowardly piece of crap.”

  Somehow, Sky didn’t think it was so much cowardly as much as a territorial statement: Maria belonged to Matt and Jose had best back off. Sky went back to his desk, dropped into his chair, and pushed the tissues toward his brother. Then he looked at the clock. “You’ve got ten minutes, Jose. Then I’ve got a meeting.”

  Jose lowered himself into the other chair but didn’t talk.

  “What is it you need?” Sky took in his brother’s beat-up face and felt sorry for him. When his mind turned to what Maria had said earlier, his gut tightened more.

  Shoot, there had been a time when he had been jealous of Jose. Jose was Redfoot and Estella’s real son, and while those two had never made Sky feel like a second fiddle, Sky had never felt anything but. Jose always seemed to know what he wanted out of life, while Sky had floundered, eventually joining the police force. It hadn’t helped that Jose got the prettiest girls in high school. Hell, there had even been a time Sky envied Maria’s affection for their brother.

  “Time’s ticking,” he warned the still-silent Jose.

  “It’s Maria…and Dad.” Jose went with what was clearly the easier topic. “I wouldn’t put it past the tribal council to tell him he has to marry Ramon’s mom.”

  Sky shrugged. “Since when has Redfoot done something he didn’t want to do?”

  “Since it involves his beloved culture,” Jose snapped.

  Sky shook his head. “He’s loyal to the tribe, but if I had a dollar for the times he said the council isn’t about culture, it’s about politics, I’d be rich. The only reason he’s in the council is to try and keep politics out.”