Shut Up and Kiss Me (30 page)

“Down!” Sky yelled, and threw himself on top of Shala. He rolled them behind his truck. Another shot rang out. The
ping
sound told Sky his truck had taken the hit. He saw Lucas duck behind his truck’s front wheel. They both pulled their weapons at the same time.

Rising up, Sky peered over the bed of his truck and saw the shooter. He was across the street, leaning over the top of a Dodge Charger. The sun caught a glint of metal, and Sky saw the rifle was propped on the roof of the car. “Cover me,” he said to Lucas.

“No!” Shala grabbed Sky’s arm. Electricity from her touch shot through him, and he forgot to breathe. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss.

“I love you,” he said.

“That’s real romantic, guys,” Lucas said, “but—”

Sky shot out from behind the truck. Shala yelled again, and Lucas started popping off shots, trying to give him some cover.

Sky felt a bullet move past his ear. He ducked behind Martha’s Cadillac. When he heard the pings hitting her car, he was more frightened of his secretary learning about the damage than at taking any himself. Swearing like a sailor, he shot out from behind the vehicle.

More pops from Lucas’s gun echoed through the hot, humid air. The shooter remained behind the Charger,
which gave Sky enough time to get closer. He pelted across the paved parking lot. Close. Almost close enough. Sky only had to cross the street when he saw the killer pile into the car.

“No!” He raised his gun.

Unfortunately, the man had the car moving almost immediately. The roar of the engine rang in Sky’s ears. Aimed right at him, the vehicle burst forward. Sky jumped straight up in the air. His feet hit the hood. He fought to remain standing as he unloaded his weapon into the windshield. The car swerved, and so did Sky. Sky knew he was about to hit the pavement. Probably hit hard. He hated being right.

He twisted in midair, hoping to protect his head when he went down. Air gushed out of his lungs when his elbow hit the concrete, and then his shoulder landed, followed by the rest of him. He hadn’t stopped rolling, the pain hadn’t even registered, when he heard the crash. He glanced up toward the sound, thankful he could still move his neck, and saw that the Dodge Charger had T-boned Martha’s Cadillac. Martha was going to have—

And then the pain registered. “Son of a bitch,” he growled.

He didn’t try to move again. He wasn’t even sure he could. He saw Lucas, gun drawn, moving toward the crash site. A mental flash of the guy taking a chest full of bullets filled Sky’s mind, and he felt confident about what Lucas would find. Then he saw Shala on her knees beside him.

“Oh, God.” She pressed her hand to her trembling lips.

“It’s just my arm,” he managed to say, and he hoped it was true, but honestly he wasn’t sure where all the pain was coming from.

Her blue eyes, wet with tears, met his. God, he loved this woman! Right then, his pain—with the exception of his arm—faded.

“Is that how the Hollywood cops do it?” he asked, and tried to smile.

Redfoot adjusted Matt’s headdress. It was late afternoon, and everything had gotten a little behind, with Sky being hurt, but the spirits had taken care of him. From the look on Blue Eyes’s face, maybe Sky’s injury had even helped her see past the issues keeping them apart. Redfoot hoped so, because he didn’t think Sky would be up to taking part in the plan tonight. He certainly wouldn’t be performing.

Now, if he could only fix things with Matt and Maria.

“Do I really have to wear this thing?” Matt touched the cascade of feathers on his shoulder.

Redfoot frowned. “Do you want to win her back or not?”

“Yes,” Matt muttered.

“Then you have to wear it. And you have to dance properly. Have you been practicing like I showed you?”

“Yes, but I have two left feet.”

Redfoot glanced down and grinned. “You are slightly bowlegged, as well.”

“Oh, please,” Matt argued. “With your skinny legs, you shouldn’t be criticizing mine.”

“Ahh, but my skinny legs are not so pale, hairy, or bowlegged.” Redfoot gave Matt a pat on the shoulder. “You will do fine.” This last week, Redfoot had discovered that Maria had good taste. The white boy had spirit, and a good spirit at that.

“I’m going to make an ass out of myself, aren’t I?” Matt asked despondently.

Redfoot hid a grin. “That is yet to be seen.” And it was. In his vision, he had heard the spirits howling with laughter, but he had also seen Maria with love in her eyes.

“You lied! Why would you lie?” Veronica’s voice rang
out behind Redfoot. He turned. She stood there, arms crossed, dressed in a colorful beaded dress that hugged her body perfectly. Seeing her sent a spasm of pain to his heart.

“I did what I had to do,” he said.

“You made yourself look bad so my son wouldn’t force me to marry you.”

“I told you I would fix it. And I did.”

“But now my son thinks badly of you.”

Redfoot met her gaze. “What does it matter?”

“It matters to me.” Anger filled her voice.

“Should I leave?” Matt asked.

“No!” Redfoot snapped, and then looked back at Veronica. “Woman, you are difficult. I fix it so you do not have to marry me, and now you are mad at how I fix it.”

“But why? You never lie.”

“I did it for the reason that I didn’t care that they were going to push us into getting married. I did it because I love you.”

“You are the most stubborn old coot I know,” she muttered.

“And you are the most stubborn old hag!”

Someone cleared their throat at the entrance of the tent. Redfoot, Veronica, and Matt all turned. Ramon stood there. “You’re a stubborn old coot, she’s a stubborn old hag, and I’d say that makes you two perfect for each other.”

Redfoot nodded. He’d left a message on the young man’s phone, inviting him to participate tonight, but Ramon hadn’t returned the call and Redfoot hadn’t known if he would come.

“I wish that was true,” Redfoot said. “But your mother does not see it that way.”

“How do you know how I see it?” Veronica asked.

“You told me,” Redfoot insisted.

“That was last week. A woman has a right to change her mind.”

“She does?” The heaviness that had taken up residence in Redfoot’s chest began to fade.

Ramon said, “We need to get out there. You two can plan your future later.” The drums had started playing, and he motioned for Matt to follow him.

Redfoot smiled at his beloved. “Yes, we can plan later.” When he moved past her, he slipped his hand into hers for a brief squeeze. A lightness filled his chest as she let him. As Veronica smiled sweetly, one thought gave him pause as he walked out: he really needed to get his pills back from Sky.

“Where are you, damn it?” Shala muttered, using her close-up camera lens to try to find Sky in the crowd. The male dancers were gathered to the side of the arena. Sky wasn’t among them. The drums were playing, and she could see Redfoot and the other elders about to walk out.

“Who are you looking for?” Sky’s deep voice fluttered against her neck.

She turned. He wore his powwow garb, minus his headdress. Her gaze swept down his hard, musclecorded body, but her gaze didn’t linger very long, because she focused on the cast on his arm.

“Is that a camera in your hands?” A teasing glint filled his eye.

“I’ve heard the rules have changed,” she replied.

“Yup.” He ran his uninjured hand down her arm, and his touch sent shivers of pain into her heart. “Some blue-eyed angel came to town and changed everything.”

She motioned to his arm. “It was broken?”

She’d gone to the hospital with Sky, but when Phillip arrived he took her back, fighting and screaming, to the police station. She suspected Sky had told him to take her because he remembered how she felt about hospitals. What Sky didn’t know was that being away from him hurt more than any memory of the past. Phillip had released
her to Lucas about an hour ago, and he’d brought her here, saying Sky would show up.

“Yup, broken,” he said.

She leaned in a little. “That’s what you get for trying to act like a Hollywood cop.”

“Hey, my girl asks for Hollywood, she gets Hollywood.” He took her hand in his. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

“What about taking pictures?”

“What about it?” he asked.

When he led her away, she didn’t hesitate.
I love you.
All afternoon she’d replayed what he said to her before running out from behind his truck. She was almost afraid she’d imagined it.

Jose studied his father, who was proudly holding his place amongst the elders, talking about the People’s culture and their beliefs. Amazement filled him. How many times had he stood here and watched his father address the crowd? Why had he never felt this pride and sense of belonging before?

He could still remember the first day he refused to be a part of the ceremonies. His father had been angry and hurt, and he had demanded Jose get dressed and do his part. It had been his mom who had stood up for him, saying Jose had to find his own way. At this moment, Jose wasn’t so sure his path had been the right one. He didn’t regret who he was or what he did or didn’t believe, but at this moment he knew he’d missed out on something important.

The tribesmen started moving away, and Jose turned to where Maria had been standing beside him. Damn it! He’d been given one lousy job tonight, and that was to ensure that Maria saw Matt dance. Now she was gone. He took off into the crowd to find her.

Maria crouched near the concession stand, talking to a prospective client on her phone. Redfoot would be angry
if he knew she’d brought her cell phone to the powwow, but this was important.

“There you are!” a voice bellowed.

Maria heard Jose and then felt his arm latch around her elbow. He was suddenly pulling her through the crowd of people, who were all laughing about something. She covered her phone with one hand and said, “Stop. This is an important call.”

Jose held up his palms as if to comply, then snatched the phone right out of her hands and cut it off. “Come on!”

He dragged her through the crowd. Before she could even think to stop him, it struck her that something was different. It took her a few minutes to figure it out: the spectators’ laughter. Powwows were not famous for laughter. Nonetheless, her fury at Jose’s rude behavior was stronger than her curiosity.

“Why did you do that?” she seethed.

“I guess this pretty much proves it, huh?” He waved to the arena.

“Proves what?” she snapped.

“That white men can’t dance.” He waved again to the arena.

Maria looked up and—“What the hell is he doing?”

Matt. It was Matt. As she stared, his headdress dropped to the ground, and when he reached to pick it up, his loincloth rode high on his backside. Another howl of laughter spilled from the audience. Maria covered her mouth to hold her giggles back.

When she saw the look of embarrassment in Matt’s eyes, her laughter died. “Why did Redfoot do this?” she hissed.

“Redfoot didn’t. Matt wanted to do it. It seems he’d do anything to get his girl back.”

Right then, Matt’s gaze found hers and Maria knew Jose was telling the truth. Matt’s headdress slipped again, this time over his face. Maria’s heart wrenched for him. “Stop this,” she told Jose.

“I can’t. But you could,” he told her. “Of course, if I remember correctly, if a woman walks out and gets a man from the soul mate dance, she’s pretty much announcing their engagement to the tribal council.”

Maria looked back up at Matt and saw his headdress slip again to the ground. If he bent over for it, he’d moon the audience again.

“Oh, screw it!” She jumped over the rope, head held high, and marched right into the center of the arena. She grabbed Matt by the hand and led him away. Hoots and hollers filled the crowd, but Maria ignored it all.

“Where are we going?” Matt asked as the noise decreased.

She moved him inside the women’s tent. Then, facing him, she snapped her hands onto her hips. “Why did you do this?”

He crossed his arms over his wide chest. In spite of being pale and somewhat ridiculous in the outfit, he looked sexy as hell to her. She fought that back.

“Why do you think I did it?” He took a step closer. “I love you.”

She blinked back tears and tried to think of how to ease into the conversation she needed to have. There didn’t seem to be a way, and she needed to believe he truly understood what was going on. “What if I told you that…that there’s a chance I might not be able to give you a baby?”

He stared at her, looking befuddled. “Why would you ask that?” he said.

She sighed and then just blurted everything out. She told him it all. She told him about her and Jose, about the baby, and about what the doctor had told her after the operation. She saw the look on his face, which was shock. “I’m sorry,” she said. Everything inside had told her that he would say it didn’t matter. Right now, the look on his face said different. It told her he cared very much. So she turned again and walked away.

He caught her arm, but she flung off his hand. “You don’t have to do this, Matt. I know you’re a good guy, but you deserve—”

“Stop it!” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “You…you don’t understand. Am I shocked right now? Hell, yes. But mostly I’m pissed at you for not telling me about losing a child. I’m not upset about your problem. I don’t care about your problem. But
damn,
Maria—you lost a child, which had to have hurt like hell. You don’t keep something like this from someone who cares about you.”

“I guess it’s like
having
a child, huh?” she asked, standing up to him.

Understanding filled his eyes. “I’d say it was exactly like that.” He sighed. “Is this why you pushed me away?”

She swallowed her fear. “No. You said you wanted us to have kids. And it wasn’t fair…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, Maria. Do I want to have baby with you? Yes. But if for some reason we can’t, then so the hell what? We’ll adopt from the foster program. Look at you, look at how much you love Redfoot. We can do the same for some other kid out there. Heck, maybe we can do both.”