Chapter 17
Date Night events that demarcated everything before and everything after. Tonight felt different. The intensity between them built with every conversation, and being in her home, alone, with the fire and the wine was another level of torture. Get it together. You’re too close to dropping your bags at her feet and that’s the last thing she needs. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, blocking out the image of Maria for a moment while he got a grip.
She doled out a heavy pour before tucking her feet back under her across from him. "I don't want to talk about Clarissa or Greg or Dave anymore. Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows."
Shane laughed, grateful at the change in subject. "I'd argue that you know more secrets about me than anyone else."
"Nuh-uh," she said, waving her wine glass. "Raising the dead doesn't count. Your dad and Emily know that. I want something deep, Shane Bolles."
"Okay..." He set his glass down and leaned forward. He bit back a grin when she mimicked him. " But you have to swear you'll never tell another soul."
She held up three fingers, "Scout's honor."
"When I moved into LA, I couldn't afford much. I had to pick up odd jobs just to share a tiny bunk room with a few other broke kids downtown. One of my jobs was mopping the floors at this dance studio that rented space in the basement of our apartment building. It was a small place that mostly just catered to the film industry. Anyway, at the time, historical romances were gaining popularity and they were teaching actors how to do the quadrille, and the waltz, and the like for those British period pieces."
Maria stopped him, pursing her lips. "Wait. Is your big secret that you know how to waltz?"
"Oh, I know how to waltz, but that's not the secret, you impatient imp," Shane said, resisting the urge to drag her to him. "I would get there before my shift to watch the dancers and memorize the steps from the back. And when everyone left I'd try my hand at it in the mirror solo."
Maria cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal and gestured at him with her glass. "Let me guess," she said, clearly unimpressed. "You learned and that's how you bedded all the fabulous ladies of LA, by asking them to waltz?"
"No, actually the opposite. I learned, pretty well if I do say so myself, with a mop. But I never danced with anyone. Just that mop."
"Never?" Maria asked. "Not even at your wedding?"
"Not once. We eloped and Leslie thought the concept of the first dance was cliché." Then the best, or absolute worst, idea he’d ever had came to him. Shane stood up, unable to stop himself now even if he wanted to. “Maria, do you want to be my first dance?"
Maria's smile dropped, and she looked downright frightened for a moment at his outreached hand.
"I'm not going to bite you, " he said, laughing. "I just want to dance with you." Please.
"Here?"
Shane nodded. "Right now."
She didn't say anything for a beat, but then reluctantly put her hand in his. "OK... I'll do it."
He tipped his head back laughing at the dread in her tone. He hadn't ever felt this much at ease with another soul, and for some reason, her disdain for dancing with him made him want to do it that much more. And it gave him the perfect excuse to hold her.
"There's no music," she deadpanned.
"Oooh. About that. Can't do music. I have to count," Shane said, a little embarrassed. "Just bear with me."
She softened at that, looking a touch less reluctant. He held his arms out and she placed her warm palm in one and the other at his shoulder. Her back straightened and before he even began she moved her first step back.
She blushed at his surprised face, saying, "I'm obsessed with Dancing with the Stars. I might have done a few solo waltzes myself."
Lighter than he'd felt before, he half led, half followed Maria around her living room, waltzing as they both said the counts aloud. They stepped faster with each turn around the room, and he held her a touch closer after every spin. Every time one of them stepped on the other, they'd burst out laughing. At one point, Shane miscalculated and hit her head against the side of the doorway. He might have embellished his ability to waltz, but she just grinned and leaned in for more.
Shane didn't want to stop, but he reluctantly did by the time they were both breathless. Her pen-held hair never stood a chance. He let go of her for a moment to release the remaining dark curls still intertwined around the pen. Maria stopped smiling, their faces inches apart. He didn't back up even though he knew he should. Instead, he ran his hands over her hair, righting it behind her shoulders and off her face as he'd been dying to do for hours.
***
Maria held her breath as Shane cupped the sides of her head, slowly running his hand down her hair and toying with the ends. Shane Bolles is about to kiss me, she thought, giddy and terrified at the same time. She hadn't been kissed in years. Dave was never the sort, and the last thing she wanted was his tongue in her mouth. I don't know if I remember how to do this.
He shifted forward and she tipped her head back, closing her eyes. But he muttered a curse under his breath. "I'm sorry, Maria. I can't do this."
Mortified, she stepped back. Ohmygod you're an idiot, Maria. She bit her lip , but it didn't stop the words from tumbling out. "Sorry! It's been a long time and I misjudged. I thought—"
He gripped her wrist, stopping her retreat. "No, you didn't think wrong. I'm sorry. It's me."
She shook her head, pointing at him. "I swear, Shane, if you give me the 'It's me, not you' line I will throw you out that window."
He ran his hands through his hair, mussing up its typical perfect style. "No. All I've been thinking about tonight is how I want to kiss you. But it's not fair, and it's not right, and it's not the time."
Maria warmed at his words. Or at the flush of wine in her system. Maybe both. She stepped back into his personal space. "It's not fair to who?"
"To you," he said, not making eye contact.
Bullshit.
She put her hands on his chest, trying to ignore the solid muscle under his crisp white shirt. "Shane, I consider you a friend. And friends don't B.S. each other. So explain why in the world a kiss would be unfair to me."
He didn't answer, but he didn't back up anymore either. He clenched his jaw and seemed to search her face, debating silently. "It isn't fair," he said, quiet and low. "Because you've been through hell and the last thing I want to do is put you in more danger."
"Danger? What are you talking about?"
He was silent long enough that she opened her mouth to push further, but he finally said, "There's someone back in LA that I'm afraid will hurt you to get to me."
Shane, who had been unnervingly cheery and confident at almost every turn since they'd met, seemed unsure of himself. Maria had no idea who would want to hurt him, but she realized that she didn't care who they were. Shane helped protect her from being thrown in jail. She would protect him, too.
She put both hands flat on his chest and toyed with a button. "Just tell me who this person is and we'll figure out the rest together."
He scanned her face, worry creasing his brows and angling his sharp cheekbones into hard lines. She reached up and ran her finger along the worry line between his eyes, trying to soothe whatever he was thinking. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep.
"Sit, and I'll explain," he said, resigned.
She took his hand, bringing him to the couch to sit next to her. The apple and cinnamon scented candle flickered on the mantle above the low fire, and leaves spiraled to the ground in a breeze outside the window. Only then did she notice that she hadn't let go of his hand, instead tracing the red Mal de Ojo tattoo along his wrist. He watched her fingers glide across the faded line and swallowed once before speaking.
"This past January, I was on a run a couple miles from my home. I had AirPods in, so I didn't see the van until it pulled up next to me. I wish I could tell you I fought back, or tried to run, but I was so startled, it didn’t even register that I was being kidnapped until they threw me into the van."
This is so much worse than I expected, Maria thought, but kept running her finger along his knuckles as he spoke.
"Two men in hockey masks sat with me in the back, and a third man drove. That's all I saw before they put a bag over my head and tied my hands. I think I pleaded, bribed, and raged but they didn't say a word—not even to each other—the whole time." He watched her trace the back of his hands. "I think that was the worst part. The silence." Shane took another deep breath, and continued, "Anyway, I don't know how much time passed. It felt like hours and a thousand turns, but when they pulled the bag off my head I was in a dark warehouse."
"I could only see a few feet in front of me. They took me into a room with a single light bulb, and made me sit in a chair." He shivered and tipped his head back before continuing. Maria interlaced her fingers in his and he squeezed her hand before continuing. "The only person who spoke stuck to the shadows. I never saw his face. I could see silhouettes of other people behind him, one smoking a cigarette in the back. The main guy, the leader I guess, said they knew I had a gift with the dead. That I could speak with them."
"I tried to play dumb at first, but he didn't argue. He didn't say anything else at all actually. He just snapped his fingers and one of the masked men wheeled a dead guy out in front of me under the lights. Another brought a cell phone to me that had a live video feed of Emily at school. She was eating her lunch with a friend on the steps, laughing and had no idea someone was filming her."
Shane raked his hands through his hair again and Maria thought he might cry. She put her hands over her mouth, reminding herself that he was with her now. That he got out. That Emily was safe.
He leaned over, his arms resting on his knees, and watched the fire burn behind her. Maria ran her hands over his broad back, wishing she could take some of this pain away. She would have done anything those men asked if it were Isa.
He spoke again, quieter this time. "I didn't argue anymore. I just explained that I call it a Raising. That I was the only person I knew who could do it. And I listed off the things I would need and how much time we'd have with the dead guy. It turns out that he was killed by a rival gang. The leader just wanted me to confirm it."
"I'd hoped, like an idiot, that it would be done. They dropped me off at my home—they already knew where I lived—and just said they'd be in touch."
"And did they? Did they make you Raise again?"
He shook his head, "No. But they've called a few times, just to remind me that they'll require my services again soon, to not call the cops, et cetera. They asked how Emily was doing in her third period math class the last time they called."
Maria swiped a tear that threatened to fall before he saw. She doubted Shane, who was proud and confident at every turn, wanted to feel pitied. "When did you decide to leave town?"
"I came home late from filming one night. Emily beat me home. I pulled in and realized the van was parked outside of our home. I don't think I breathed until I ran in the house, but Emily was fine. Just asked why I was acting crazy. I called my dad and told him to expect us, and made Emily stay with a friend until we left the next day."
"Do they know that you're here?"
He nodded. "I tried to keep it quiet, but somehow word got out on the internet that I was heading for Hinnewatcha before I even left LA."
I did this, I killed Dave and brought him here. She put a hand on his arm, "Shane, I'm so sorry. If I hadn't killed Dave you wouldn't—"
He turned to her, covering her hand with his, "Stop, Maria. Don't ever apologize for killing Dave Fever. He was an atrocious excuse for a human being and deserved what he got. And I didn't come here initially for Dave, remember? I needed a place to lay low for a little while, and to see if they pursued me outside of LA. Dave's death just happened to occur before I got here. Besides, it only made national headlines once the trucker was killed. And the people that kidnapped me? They probably know where I am, regardless."
Maria stilled. “Shane, could Tat Face be here for you?”
He looked away. “I considered it. But I’ve never seen him on my own around town, only when I’m with you.”
“We need to tell Levi. That cop doesn’t need to be at my house. You need someone watching over you.”
“Maria, there are two grown men living at my dad’s house, and my dad can be absolutely terrifying when he wants to be. That cop stays at your house. I could never sleep if I thought you, Isa, or even your mother were in trouble.”
Her slow descent into falling for this man became an abrupt fall into head-over-heels territory. She cleared her throat, trying and failing to focus on anything but how much she wanted to climb on top of him. "Have they called you since you've been here?"
He shook his head, "Not at all. But I still can't escape the feeling that something terrible would have happened if I hadn’t left LA. Now I feel like I've dragged all this bad juju to our small town."
Maria chuckled. "Dave Fever was an awful person long before you came back, and Clarissa and Greg have apparently been terrifying the kindest family in Hinnewatcha for months. This place is cute, but it's far from perfect. You didn't bring this here, so don't add it to the list of things to worry about. Sounds like you have enough."
Shane smiled so wide his dimple showed, the same dimple Maria had definitely not been drooling over in every one of his episodes. He bumped against her shoulder, pulling her hand back in his to rest on his knee. "I'm sure they're going to reach out at some point. But for now, I think I'd rather take my chances here." He was quiet for a few moments, his eyes on the fire.
Then he tipped her head so could look her in the eyes, his thumb brushing the side of her jaw. "Do you understand, though, why I don't want anyone to know you're important to me?"
Her pounding heart all but stopped at his words. She nodded, unable to form sentences just yet. She swallowed once, and then dramatically looked over her shoulders, "But I don't see anyone here, do you?"
He laughed and wrapped his hand around her thigh, pulling her closer to him so their legs were flush on the couch. Maria leaned into him, lining her body against his side and propping her chin on his shoulder. She said quietly, "No one will know, Shane, if you kiss me tonight."
He watched her in that intense way that made her toes curl. He slowly shifted them so they faced each other directly again and tucked a curl behind her ear with his other hand. "When I finally do get to kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop. Not in public, not in private. And I will want the world to know that you are mine, and I am yours, Maria Fever."
"Oh," was all she could say at first. "That's a really good answer. You should have led with that."
Shane laughed, and though the tension between them was still palpable, she understood. She added, "I filed for the name change yesterday. It's back to Maria Cruz now."
"That sounds so much better," Shane said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing them lightly. Once, twice. He sighed and started to stand up, "I should go."
Maria didn't let him up. "You should…But Isa isn't here. Neither is Mama. I won't throw myself on you, yet," she added, and he laughed. "But you should stay here tonight."
He shook his head, "You do realize this will be absolute torture for me, right?" His smile grew and his eyes narrowed on her.
She bit her lip, grinning back. "I think you can handle it."
He ran his hand over his face and for a moment she thought he'd kiss her, their conversation be damned. He scanned her face, unspeaking, and she held her breath. She resisted the urge to whoop in victory when he finally nodded. "OK. I need to text Emily, though. I'm never going to hear the end of this.”