“That may be, but that doesn’t make it right, and he knows better,” Jake nodded toward Shane.
Shannon laughed. “Would you boys like a glass of wine with your dinner?”
Shane nodded. “That’d be real nice, ma’am.”
“Can we help you?” Jake asked.
“You can get the dishes out of that cabinet there and set them out on the bar. We’ll eat there, since Crash doesn’t have a dining room table.” She turned and put on the oven mitts and pulled the glass baking dish out of the oven. Then she pulled the hot garlic bread out.
“That smells wonderful, ma’am,” Shane complimented her. “What can I help you with?”
“I tossed a salad. It’s in the fridge. Could you get that, and I think there are a couple of bottles of salad dressing in the door.”
“Sure thing.” Shane turned and pulled the wooden salad bowl out of the fridge along with a couple of bottles of dressing.
They spread the items out on the island, while Shannon got out three more wine glasses and some silverware. By the time Crash emerged from the shower, the bar was set, and she was busy dishing out their helpings.
Crash walked over and came up behind Shannon as she used a spatula to put a couple of shells on Shane’s plate.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Shane said.
“Enough with the ma’am stuff. You’re making me feel old.” She smiled at him and picked up another plate to dish Crash up a helping. Shane moved to the other side of the bar and sat next to Jake, who was pouring himself a glass of wine.
Crash’s hands settled on her hips, and he leaned over her shoulder looking at the food. “Looks good. Truthfully, did Angel bring this over?”
Shannon looked up at him, achingly aware of the warmth of his hands on her hips, and the heat of his chest pressed to her back. “She gave me the recipe, but I did all the work.” Their eyes caught as she turned to look up at him, and the empty plate in her hand trembled. She scooped up a couple of shells and put them on his plate. Handing it to him, she said, “There’s bread and salad.”
He took the plate out of her hand and snatched a piece of bread out of the basket she’d put it in. “This is real nice, Shannon. I’m starved. Thanks for doing this.”
She melted under his comment, her smile brilliant. “You’re welcome,” she whispered.
“Come. Eat.”
She made herself a plate and moved to sit next to him. He shoveled in a bite, chewing. She waited on pins and needles for his reaction, scared to death she’d messed it up somehow. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she asked, “How is it?”
He looked over at her and smiled. “It’s good, babe. You did good.”
She let out a breath and reached for her wine glass.
“You may not be totally useless after all. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Princess.” Before she could get angry, he winked and gave her a dazzling smile.
That evening Jake and Shane took their packs and headed out after thanking her for an amazing home-cooked meal. Crash explained to her that Wolf had found them a place to stay. While Shannon would miss their banter, she was glad it would just be her and Crash in the loft. It was a little too small for her and all that testosterone in a one-bedroom, one-bathroom loft.
After they left, Shannon was cleaning up the dishes when Crash walked up to her. He took the dinner plate out of her hand and set it on the counter, then he took her by the hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.
“Crash, what are you doing? The dishes-”
“They can wait. We need to talk.”
Oh-oh, she thought, that didn’t sound good. He led her out onto the roof. When they got to the top, he didn’t release her hand, but led her over to the wall that surrounded the edge. He leaned a hip against it and pulled her hand, tugging her close. Shannon looked up into his face. He looked serious. He was starting to make her nervous. “What is it?”
“The other night at the bar,” he began, and she immediately started to pull back, knowing he was going to talk about her panic attack, but his grip on her hand tightened. “Don’t pull away.”
She swallowed. “Please don’t.”
“Shannon, you need to talk about it.” His tone was gentle, but still determined.
“No, I don’t.”