Jet stared out the window, teeth biting into her lower lip, eyes stinging.
Things had been going so well. There had been no problem. So why were they fighting now? What were they even fighting about?
Had she started this?
Or had he?
“Jet.” His voice was quiet, calm.
She wished she was anywhere but in the car. “Yes?”
“Why are you so upset? What’s happening? I’ve never seen you like this before—”
“I am upset. And I hate being upset. I was so happy a little bit ago, so happy to be going to Polson with you but when you’re pessimistic and negative and say you live in New York and I live here…it kills me. Makes me wonder why I’m here. Makes me wonder why I’m doing any of this. Shane, I’ve never lied to my sister before. I’m not devious. I love my family. I love the Sheenans. They are good to me.”
Her voice broke and she stared out the window blinking furiously. “If they find out I’m with you, it won’t be good. You know that. You’ve dealt with them. You’ve had Cormac in your face and Trey, well, putting his fist in your face. All we need to do is throw in a little bit of Brock and we’ve got a party.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“I know you’re not. But you don’t seem to appreciate that I’ve taken sides and that this might be scary for me!”
He made a soft, rough sound as he put on his signal and exited the freeway, turning onto the frontage road. On the shoulder of the road, Shane braked, put the car into park, and turned off the engine.
Jet watched him wide-eyed as he unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted in his seat to face her. His gaze swept over her, his dark eyes inscrutable even as energy zinged in the car, the air now crackling with a tension that made her toes curl up and her pulse beat faster.
He was so much bigger than she was. Even seated, he filled the car, his shoulders broad, his torso muscular, the weathered gray, cashmere sweater taut over his chest and arms. The dark gray sweater made his eyes look almost black and she stared into them, feeling lost. It scared her she’d come to feel so much for him already and yet she couldn’t read what—if anything—he wanted from her.
Other than sex.
Men always wanted sex.
Her lungs ached with her bottled breath and her heart continued to race.
He was so beautiful and so intelligent and so intriguing…but the intriguing element worried her. Was he someone she could count on, or was she once again falling for the man who’d later shrug off responsibility, and didn’t want commitments? What was she to Shane? A fling?
Her pulse pounded. Her throat squeezed closed. She was scared that everything was moving too fast, that her heart fell before her head could even catch up.
But Shane didn’t say anything, he just looked at her with his dark assessing eyes, and she had no idea what he saw when he looked at her. No idea of anything, really.
Why couldn’t she be a fun girl? A party girl? Why couldn’t she just go along for the ride to Polson and not need to know where they stood and how he felt? Why couldn’t she just enjoy a man because he was a man? Why did she need this intense attraction to become a forever love?
“This isn’t going to work,” Shane said finally, his voice pitched so low it sounded like a growl.
She clenched her hands, fingers tightly laced.
“We can’t do this. You’re coming unglued,” he added.
She knit and unknit her fingers, wanting to say something, wanting to protest, but he was right. She was coming unglued. She had such a strong moral compass. She’d been raised in a family of strong values and she didn’t want to lie to her sister—or the Sheenans. Or to Shane for that matter. And she hadn’t taken his side because she liked to argue and create conflict. She took his side because she was falling for him, and she couldn’t help but side with him.
She was invested. Seriously invested. And she was suddenly afraid he had no real feelings for her. That she was just a diversion.
A game.
She prayed that wasn’t the case.
“We’re either going to turn around and go home, or, you’ll call your sister and tell her what you’re doing—that you’re with me and we’re heading to Polson for the weekend.” Shane’s voice was rough, but he didn’t sound angry as much as concerned. “I don’t like you not being truthful with her. It doesn’t sit well with me, and I can tell it’s eating at you.”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“She won’t like it,” Jet said faintly.
“She won’t, but at least she’ll know the truth. And if there is a problem or an emergency, she won’t be blindsided. Besides, you don’t want to put her in the middle, either.”
She didn’t.
“Are you going to call her, or are we turning around?” he persisted.
Her heart thumped and Jet licked her upper lip, her mouth suddenly painfully dry. “If we call her, you will have every available Sheenan heading to Polson,” she said carefully.
He shrugged. “Then we do.”
“You don’t want that.” But then she saw his taut expression and frowned. “Or do you?” Something in his expression reminded her of Trey, when he’d visited the house and he and Shane had battled it out.
Shane’s silence said more than words ever could.
There was more to this story, she thought, and it was beginning to weigh on her. “What is this…thing…between you and the Sheenans? It’s more than the book,” she said. “It’s almost as if you have a grudge against them. Is it because they haven’t helped you with the book? Is it because they’ve just blocked your efforts, turning folks in Marietta against you?”
“No.”
“Did something else happen?”
“Yes. But it was a long time ago.”
“And it has nothing to do with McKenna or the Douglases, or the fact that the Sheenans aren’t sympathetic to your book?”
Silence stretched, heavy and significant. “No, it’s not. It’s personal.”
Her thoughts raced. She tried to see what piece she was missing. There was something else at work, if only she could see it. “Did you know the Sheenans before you came to Marietta?”
“No.”
“Did they know you?”
“No.”
“Then what?” She saw his expression and suppressed a sigh.
He wasn’t going to tell her. He wasn’t about to confide. She could push and start another argument, or she could let it go. She let it go.
“I’ll call Harley,” she said quietly, “but I think now the best thing is for me to attend the course tomorrow. I’m registered, it’s paid for; I just need to go. And then I can tell her I caught a ride with you. But that means you’d need to drop me off in the morning, and then pick me up after. Would that work? Or is Missoula too far from the lake?”
He seemed pleased by her decision. “It’s just a little over an hour. That’s easy to do.”
“So we’ll still go to Polson tonight? And then early in the morning you’ll drive me to Missoula?”
“Or we can stay in Missoula or even in Butte tonight, and we can get up early and I’ll drop you on my way.”
“But you’ve already paid for a night in Polson.”
“I can afford to pay for a couple of rooms in either place.”
“I can pay for my own,” she answered quickly.
He leaned towards her, his hand sliding to her nape. He drew her towards him and kissed her. “But I like doing things for you,” he said, deep voice pitched even lower.
His hand felt deliciously warm on her skin, while his lips felt cool. His tongue licked at her lip, and she opened for him, nerves zinging, practically dancing with pleasure as he tasted her and then explored her mouth. Heat exploded within her and her body arched, leaning in to the kiss, leaning in to him, wanting more contact, more pressure, more sensation.
Shane’s hand slid across her lap, finding her seatbelt. He undid the belt, freeing her only to p
ull her from her seat, onto his lap.
His thighs were hard and she could feel the ridge of his erection press against her bottom. He held her more closely, her breasts crushed to his chest, and she shuddered as his hand found the side of her breast, and then beneath. She might as well have been naked. There seemed to be nothing between them. She could feel him through his jeans. He was so hard and hitting places where she was sensitive and she squirmed, overwhelmed by the intensity and the desire.