“Did we ever leave?” she shot back, instantly regretting all of it at the look on his face.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Shane tossed his wet towel on her bed. “Less than four hours ago, I was inside you. And now you’re bringing Jane into this?” He took a step back. “I’m not doing this, Bobbi, because I’m late and because I won’t disappoint a little boy who’s already scared about his mother. But you can bet your ass we’re having this conversation when I get back and it won’t be when I’m distracted because of all the sex. Once and for all, this thing is gonna be settled.”
He turned without another word, and Bobbi sank back into the pillows. She felt like such a shit. Why did she do that? Why was she such a bitch sometimes? She pulled up the covers and, when she heard his boots on the stairs, squeezed her eyes shut and burst into tears.
Chapter Eighteen
Shane blew past Coral without so much as a hello or goodbye. In truth, he didn’t see her sitting in the front parlor, enjoying a cup of coffee there by the window, because all he saw was red.
Big bold fire-engine red to go along with the anger that burned his gut something fierce. He slid onto his bike and left the B and B behind in a cloud of smoke and dust, his thoughts still back there in the bedroom with Bobbi.
He was already late, but his bike headed in a familiar direction. When he pulled up to the old cemetery, he found the rusted iron gates closed. He sat on his bike for a few seconds, but then hopped off and opened the gates himself. There were no locks, and he wondered about the person who cared enough to close them.
Maybe it was Manly, for all he knew.
He sent Dora Lee a quick text, gave her the combination to the lock on his studio door, and told her he’d be late. He let her know there were refreshments in the fridge and to make herself comfortable.
Mist hung low across the path that led to the old church, slowly disappearing as the sun grew stronger. Shane found himself following the trail until he stood near the sad-looking building. What was it about old abandoned churches tha
t was so sad? Was it because a place of peace and worship no longer existed? Or was it because it symbolized lost hope? Was that why he was drawn here?
He stared up at the structure until his neck muscles protested and then, like before, he headed in the direction of the big old oak, there up on the hill. He spotted Manly scrubbing the large tombstone and gave a shout and a wave. The old man didn’t hear him at first but then stood straight as an arrow and gave a wave back. The two men met near the bench, and Manly motioned for Shane to sit.
“What brings you here on this loveliest of days?” Manly asked. His voice was weaker than he was used to hearing, and Shane gave him a good once-over, but the old man looked the same.
“I’m just wondering that myself,” Shane admitted. “It’s not even noon and I’ve already screwed up.”
“It’s the peacefulness of the place, I suppose.” Manly scratched at his head and tried to tame one errant piece of hair that was always stuck up at an angle. “Nothing quieter than a church cemetery.” He winked. “Or so they say.”
“You come here every day?” Shane asked, though it wasn’t really a question. He’d been here three times now, and Manly was always present. Was that what love did to a guy when it was over? Make ghosts of men?
“I suppose I do.” Manly shrugged. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.” He nodded. “But you. I thought you’d be busy taking care of that thing you lost.”
“I was.” Shane gritted his teeth and took a moment. “Or at least I thought I was. But she’s not making it easy.” There it was again. That anger in his gut just waiting to spark into something big and hot and nasty.
“Lord, they never do, do they?” Manly chuckled. “The thing most men don’t realize is that a woman is as complicated as the universe. I swear God made them on the same day. Folks think Adam came first? I thing they’ve got that all wrong. Men were created to temper their spirit, because they sure do have enough of it. And it’s the real special ones that know it too.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Your woman sounds like she’s got spunk.”
“And then some,” Shane muttered.
“Would you want her any other way?”
Shane shook his head. “No.” The thought of Bobbi any other way wasn’t even conceivable. It wasn’t in her DNA, and it sure as hell wasn’t in his.
“It takes a special kind of man to live with a woman like that. You’ve got to be willing to weather the storms, and there are going to be a lot of them.”
“I don’t mind the storms,” Shane replied, cracking a small grin. “The storms lead to all the making up, and the making up is worth it.”
Manly laughed. “I suppose it is.” He cocked his head. “Then what’s got you all riled up this morning? What storm can’t you seem to weather?”
“Something’s different, and I can’t put my finger on it. She’s up, and then she’s down. She’s got my head turning in circles trying to keep up. Like, she left the other day, and I have no idea where she went. It was overnight, and I…I felt like I wasn’t supposed to ask, and she never told me where she went. But I thought we were good. We had a great night, and then this morning, I tell her I have to leave, and she turns on me. Brings up all this old crap, that yeah, I know we need to deal with, but why then? Why ruin the moment? She’s not acting right.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s something different, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Sounds like she wasn’t ready to let you go.”
“Christ, Manly, I would have stayed with Bobbi all day if I could have, but I have this sketch to finish for a little boy and a model meeting me at the plantation, and it was too late to cancel.”
“Would this model be a woman?”
Shane made a face. “Yeah.”