Show the Fire (Signal Bend Series)

by Susan Fanetti

  Sipping his whiskey, he tried to work some things through in his head. Like what to do with Tommy now. Was this going to be something Tasha wanted again? How would he deal with that? And where, exactly, were things going with Tasha? He knew that, as intense and hot as what they’d just done had been, he didn’t want this with Tasha. Not long-term. At some point, he was going to need her to be his. Just his. At some point, the jealousy he could push away now was going to want its due. He understood why she didn’t believe it. No reason she should think he’d be happy with one woman. And she had her own history, which bore down on her hard. But he could see their end if she couldn’t see any way but this.

  And what if what she’d said was true? What if she simply didn’t want to be just his? What if it was her who couldn’t be happy with one man? He thought she was hiding, afraid to be close. But what if she really needed more than him? She did, in fact, swing both ways. He did not. What would he do then?

  Fuck.

  He drained his glass and was about to get up for another, when Nadia staggered into the room, naked, her hair in a wild snarl of sexhead. When she saw him, she stretched and grinned. “Hey, Biker Dude.”

  “Nad. How you doin’?”

  She came over and stood in front of him. “I’m excellent. You did good. You need to bring that beast back again.”

  “We’ll see.”

  A look went across her face; he could see it in the light coming in from the street. Then she came in and straddled his lap. “You’re changing the rules, buddy. Not sure I like it.”

  “What d’you mean?” He set his glass down and put his hands on her hips, intending to lift her off and to the side. But she leaned in and kissed him, her pierced tongue forcing into his mouth.

  He grabbed her face and pushed her back. “Enough, Nadia.” More roughly than he meant, he pushed her off his lap and deposited her on the sofa next to him.

  “That’s what I mean. Why knock me to the side?”

  “I’m not changing the rules, doll. Tasha and I have our rules. One of ‘em is we don’t play on our own.”

  “See, though? We already had rules before you came along. We had this cool little group, and we all got along, and we all did our thing, and we kept it in the group.”

  Seeing where she was headed, he kept his mouth shut and waited for her to get there.

  “Then you show up, and Carter’s not coming around like before, and Kerry’s all scared of you, and Tasha won’t play unless you’re involved, and I’m in bed with a guy I can’t fuck. It’s all screwed up. And we were all here first. We’ve been together for years. You’re the interloper, and you fucked everything up.” She leaned in and rested her chin on his shoulder. “It’d be okay if you’d play. You barely play. You’re not gonna be one of us.”

  “No, I’m not. But I’ve been up to my ears in your pussy, doll. How playful you need me to be?”

  She sat back, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child. “I don’t like to be told I can’t have things I want.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “You’re pretty dense, dude. I want you to fuck me.”

  “Not gonna happen. Fuck Tommy all you want. You seemed to like that just fine.”

  “Yeah, that rocked. But I want the way you fuck Tash. I want that. That shit is ridiculously hot.”

  He laughed. “Who’s the dense one now? Even if I fucked you, it wouldn’t be like that, doll. You’re gonna have to find that on your own.”

  “Oh, shitballs. If you’re gonna tell me that it’s ‘LOVE,’ then I’m gonna hurl.”

  He didn’t respond. She knew fucking well that was what it was.

  After a few seconds, Nadia stood. “Well, it’s you who’s dense. I love her like I love chocolate-covered strawberries, but Tasha is the most emotionally closed-off person I’ve ever known in my life. The only time she lets her guard down is when she’s coming. I know you’ve known her since she was a kid, or whatever, but I wonder if you know her as well as you think you do. She doesn’t love. She needs. I’m gonna take a shower.”

  With that, she sashayed her naked ass back to the bedroom.

  For a long time, Len stared at the place she’d been.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “It’s the old Burger Shack.”

  “Yeah. Obviously.”

  Tasha stood on the lot, on years-old gravel that was overwhelmed by weeds up to her knees, and stared at the horror before her eyes. “You want me to turn a boarded-up, drive-up, fast-food restaurant into a medical practice. Isaac, be serious.”

  “Like a heart attack, Tash.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. Lame jokes like that were not his thing. “No way it’ll work.” The building looked to be about one stiff blow from becoming kindling. The windows had been boarded up so long that the plywood was bowed and grey. The roof was missing well more than half of its shingles.

  It was like Isaac was mocking her.

  He stepped in front of her and looked down from his massive height, his arms crossed over his chest. “Haven’t even been inside, sweetheart. How d’you know?”

  Sweetheart. He called the club girls sweetheart. And the swoony little misses around town, who turned bright pink if he so much as smiled in their general direction. It pissed her off to hear it directed at her. She turned on her heel, headed back to her Jeep.

  He grabbed her arm and stopped her. “Tasha. Tell me again what you need.”

  With a tired, frustrated sigh, she turned back and wrenched her arm free. Establishing a practice in Signal Bend was turning out to be day after day of anxiety and old, bad blood churning through her body. The money. The club. The details. Isaac.

  And Len. They’d been out of sync since the day after the Midsummer Fair, when Tommy had spent the night. She couldn’t work out why, unless it was that Tommy had spent the night. Len had been quiet the next morning, and then both he and Tommy had left before Tasha could even suggest breakfast—or coffee, for that matter. She’d woken that morning wrapped tightly in Len’s arms, but as soon as they were out of bed, he made distance. And they’d only spent one night together since. Len wouldn’t talk about it. It wasn’t like him to dodge, but he’d been avoiding her now, and it had been more than a week since the Fair. They’d talked almost every day, but he was far away, even so.

  She wondered if he was playing in the clubhouse. Now that she was linked to him, the thought that he might be—and that, yet again, the Horde knew of her shame before she did, turned her stomach.

  Forcing those disastrous thoughts to the side, she focused instead on the disaster immediately ahead.

  Free of Isaac’s grip, Tasha put her hands up and counted off on her fingers. “Space for a waiting room. A reception and business area. An office for me. A couple of examining rooms. A dedicated treatment room. Storage.” He nodded as she rattled off the list.

  “Mac here tells me this is the best available space for the square footage you need. And it’s right on the strip. Convenient.”

  Mac Evans, owner-broker for Signal Bend Realty, was standing in the mottled shade of the decaying awning over what used to be the walk-up window. Dressed in pressed khakis and a peach-colored Oxford-cloth shirt, with a blue and brown paisley tie, Mac seemed out of place and uncomfortable, even though this should be his bailiwick—showing property. He was keeping his distance, giving Isaac an occasional wary glance, but he was there with the keys, so that they could scope out this supposedly perfect location.

  “It’s. A. Burger joint.”

  “It’s been derelict for twelve years, Tash. It’s not anything.” He sighed—he seemed on edge today, and she got the sense that she was pushing hard at the bounds of his good humor. Fine—he was doing the same to her. “At least take a look—unless you’re afraid of what creepy crawlers we’ll find in there.”

  “Dude, I did two years in the African bush. Fuck you.” She walked up to Mac. “Okay. Let us in.”

  Mac fingered the keys in his hand and went to the do
or. He walked with a pronounced limp—much more pronounced than Isaac’s. “Ike—uh, Isaac’s right, though. It’s been probably five years since anybody’s even gone in here. I don’t know what we’ll find.”

  “There a good reason you didn’t check it out first, Mac? Called you about this a couple days ago.” Isaac’s voice had a sharp edge of threat, and Tasha saw Mac’s Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.

  “Sorry. I—I didn’t think.”

  Isaac nodded and stepped in front of Tasha, looming over Mac. “She gets so much as a sliver, you bleed.”

  Again, Tasha rolled her eyes. Macho nonsense. Isaac was twice Mac’s size; why he was coming on so strong was beyond her. Mac looked liked he’d rather be doing absolutely anything else on this muggy day in August, late in the morning. He pushed the key into the lock—no realtor’s lockbox, just a regular, commercial lock—and pulled the boarded door creakily open.

  A blast of hot, stale, reeking air hit them like a fist. Tasha coughed. “Oh, shit. Isaac, no. The environmental crap that’s got to be going on in here—I’m trying to set up a place to make people well, not sick. There’s got to be another place.”

  “Fuck! There’s not, Tash. You’ve seen Main Street. What can be built up has been. What can’t be is a lot worse than this. Unless you want to hang your shingle on a Winnebago parked in the church lot, this is it.”

  “How about razing something and building on the lot?”

  With a harsh laugh and a shake of his head, he disabused her of that notion. “What kind of jack you think we have to invest here?” When she huffed again, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Tasha, if all it needs is cleaning up, and making some rooms, we can do the work. We just need the space. Can we check it out?”

  “Fine. We’re here.” She took the yellow flashlight that Mac had been holding and snapped it on, crossing into the bleak dark before either of the men.

  ~oOo~

  In the end, she was convinced. Terrified, but convinced. Very little of what had made the Burger Shack the Burger Shack remained—the kitchen was entirely gutted, the tiny eat-in area had only two broken booths remaining, and, other than a scum of old fry grease and enough cobwebs to stuff a macabre mattress, the environmental issues seemed surprisingly minor. Some water damage along the ceiling and the tops of the walls, but not black mold. After Isaac had gone out and ripped some of the boards off the windows, they’d been able to stand in adequate light while he visualized how they could make it work. She’d stood quietly while he thought, and then, when he’d described for her what he’d imagined, she’d been so impressed she’d forgotten she was angry.

  After insisting that they bring in a licensed environmental inspector and that Havoc, who was particularly handy with electrical work, check out the systems, she’d agreed to start her next career phase in the Burger Shack.

  And then Isaac had insisted on buying her lunch to celebrate.

  Which was why she was getting out of her Wrangler at Marie’s, not long before noon. Isaac was off his bike and walking over to her. Already, they’d garnered the notice of a couple leaving the diner. She didn’t know who they were, but they obviously knew Isaac.

  She’d forgotten what the scrutiny was like.

  “This is a terrible idea. I can’t believe I didn’t realize how stupid it would be to have lunch here—I can’t believe you didn’t realize!” Signal Bend was a tiny town, and, like all tiny towns, it powered through its dusty days on the noisy engine of gossip. She hadn’t been around much for a very long time, but she wasn’t Lilli, and even the people who didn’t know her history with Isaac would remark on him eating with her. They would remark extensively, and they would embellish. She knew it. She remembered.

  “I did realize. I’m not worried. Lilli knows we’re out today. She’s not worried. So let ‘em talk. Been awhile since I gave them something harmless to flap their gums about.” His grin was wide and lopsided. He seemed to have recovered his mood.

  But Tasha did not share his good humor. A burst of damp, hot wind kicked up and blew strands of hair into her face. She fought them back and tucked them behind her ear. “You’re such an arrogant prick sometimes, Isaac. What if I don’t want to be talked about? You’re bringing me back into this town. You want me to be everybody’s doctor. And you want me to start all that off with people talking about me like I’m trying to break up the epic love story of all time? Dammit, it’s not all about you. I know you’re the Lord High of Signal Bend, but sometimes, you know…it’s just not about you.”

  His grin had faltered and ebbed away, and his expression got serious. “Sorry, Tash. I wasn’t thinking like that. Look—I had a shitty night last night. I’m…not thinking right today, I guess. I’m sorry.”

  She sighed. He couldn’t even let her have a good mad. “I know. Isaac, I’m happy for you. Truly. Lilli is amazing, and what you’ve put together, even after everything…I really admire you both. But the people here who know me are looking at me and you—right now, they’re staring out the window at us—remembering that we were something once. And any people who don’t know me are staring, too, wondering who the chippy is who’s about to have lunch alone with Lilli’s man.”

  She pulled her keys back out of her pocket. “I’m just gonna…I’m gonna go. Call me when I need to sign something or if you have…whatever.”

  As she turned to the Jeep, Isaac reached out. “Tash, wait.” She yanked away before he could make contact.

  “Fuck, don’t touch me. That’s all they need. I’ll see you. Tell Lilli I said hi, or something.”

  As quickly as she could, she opened the driver’s door and climbed into her Jeep. She wanted to get back to Springfield and her loft, where her life made sense. Or, rather, it made a façade of sense, while she still could afford to stay there.

  ~oOo~

  On her way out of town, she made a sudden, hard left turn—so hard that the wheels screamed and almost lifted off the ground on the left side of the Jeep—and then she was driving toward Len’s little ranch. She didn’t even know if he’d be there. She hadn’t heard from him since two days before, when he’d called to check on her and say he wasn’t coming out. For all she knew, he was on some job for the club. Or he was in the clubhouse buried in girls.

  But there was no way in hell she was going to confront him there. And she was done. She was just done. She had had about enough of the ways Horde men could twist her around. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get tangled up with another one—one with a reputation for banging just about every gash he could find, and all at once. Maybe she was getting pulled back into Signal Bend, and maybe she couldn’t stop it, but that didn’t mean she had to get pulled back into the Horde. Family or not, she had to keep some kind of separation.

  She turned onto his gravel drive, kicking up a plume of dun-colored dust in her wake. His truck was there. And his bike. And an old Chrysler station wagon she didn’t recognize. The faux wood was faded and peeling off at the fenders. She parked and shoved open the door of her Jeep.

  He walked out of the stable, wiping his hands on a faded blue rag.

  “Tash? You alright?”

  Coming up behind him was a young, blonde, incredibly nubile girl in Daisy Dukes, boots, and a skin-tight t-shirt. She stood next to Len and watched as Tasha, her head all but exploding with outrage, slammed out of the car and stalked over.

  She was right. She was right. Goddammit, she was right.

  Blondie turned to Len and rose up on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on his cheek. Tasha noticed him stiffen. Well, at least he had the decency to act guilty.

  “Thanks, Len.”

  Len nodded. “Get on now, Jerri Rae.”

  With a bright, sunny smile sent like a missile at Tasha, Blondie swayed her hips over to the Chrysler and got in. Tasha pivoted and stood where she was, watching the little tart pull away and down Len’s lane.

  Len walked up behind her. “There trouble, Doc?”

  Tasha knew she needed to be calm. She
wanted more than anything else to stay calm. She couldn’t let this get to her. She had to retain some sense of dignity and decorum. End it and go. What she did not need to do is repeat her last shame and fly at him like a rabid harpy.

  At least she didn’t have an audience this time.

  Memories were besetting her with Hitchcockian intensity. She was so angry—at herself more than him, maybe. A few months ago, she’d had the life she’d made for herself. The job she’d wanted. A social life that worked. All of the pieces in the places she’d put them. She’d managed to draw a line between her life and her history, keeping the Horde at arm’s length, being a help to them without them being a hurt to her.

  And that was all rubble now.

  There was no calm to be had. She pivoted back on her heel and nearly crashed into him—he had come directly up behind her.

  So she hit him. Twice, as hard as she could, her fists curled tightly, she slammed into his chest. “Who the fuck was that? Who the fuck? God, what is it with you guys?”

  As she pulled back to do it again, he grabbed her arms and stared down at her. “You need to calm down. Let’s talk.”

  She shoved away, twisting her arms out of his grasp. “I made it easy for you. For us. All you had to do…no. Never mind. I’m done. I’m just done. I can’t…God. No.” There was no point in fighting it out. What she needed to do was get away from Signal Bend. Forever. “Just no.”

  She turned and headed back to her Jeep.

  But he was on her immediately, his heavy hand clamping around her bicep. He yanked her around and grabbed her other arm the same way. “No. You’re not leaving. We’re talking.” His face was close to hers, and he snarled the words. Then he turned and fairly dragged her into the stable.

  Len’s family had bred horses as a sideline when the farm was still running. The farmland had been sold off long ago, but what Len had kept hold of, through all of the town’s and his family’s financial woes, was enough land to keep the horses going. Though Tasha wasn’t sure why it was so important to him, she knew it was. And the whole town knew Len as the word on breeding.