Christie Craig Shut Up

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.Rules were rules.“Look, Martha, I’d better go.” He hung up and dropped the phone.Shala stood frozen, cell phone still clutched in her fist, staring at him.“You’re a real jerk, aren’t you?” she asked.He wiped a palm over his mouth to hide his smile.She dropped her cell in her canvas bag and swung around, and he watched her hotfoot it to his door.Against his better judgment, he savored the view.Damn, but why had Redfoot started with all that soul-mate nonsense? Then it hit him: why the heck did it matter? Sky knew he wasn’t soul-mate material.He’d out and out told Redfoot as much.About ten times.So why had avoiding her seemed like the best plan? Just because they were both single and he found her attractive didn’t mean they’d hit the sheets.And if they did…well, they were adults, and if they saw fit to get naked together, there wasn’t a darn thing anyone could do.There! He’d said it: Shala Winters wasn’t off-limits.Part of him hoped her gut-wrenching attraction would evaporate into thin air.But as he continued to stare at her cute, heart-shaped backside, that evaporation didn’t happen.She placed her hand on the doorknob, and he breathed a sigh of relief.He needed to come to terms with what he thought about Shala Winters, against what his gut was telling him now.But when he saw her open the door, he did an emotional U-turn.“You don’t have to go,” he said.“Good night, ol’ man!”Redfoot looked away from the piece of pine he whittled and at Maria Ortega.The young woman was his foster daughter, but she would be his daughter-in-law if only his biological son, Jose, came back home and did the right thing.Jose and Maria belonged together.“It’s Friday night, and you spend your time in bed instead of out with friends, and you call me old?” He hoped she’d go out so that he could do the same.“I’m not going to bed alone.I have a good book.”“You would rather read about the made-up lives of others instead of live yourself.”“I have a life.Matt’s just out of town.”“Again?” Redfoot asked.Maria ignored him.He saw a flicker of concern as she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his brow, though, and Redfoot could feel echoes of sadness in her touch.Matt had little to do with them.Maria mourned not just for Jose, but for the baby she had lost.Sometimes Redfoot wanted to knock some sense into his son.Next time he saw him, he might just do it.“Matt can stay out of town,” he muttered.He’d bet his best carving knife that boy was up to no good—probably dipping his wick in another candle.He’d never warmed up to the young man’s light eyes.True, Redfoot’s feeling probably stemmed from his belief that Maria belonged with Jose, but that didn’t change the fact that Matt Goodson had no-good scoundrel written all over his pale white ass.Maria shot him a look.“Stop it, viejo! Matt is a good man.”“Good as Monopoly money down at the five-and-dime.” What was wrong with his son? How could Jose walk away from this soft woman who loved him? And how could Maria give this white boy a second look?“Don’t start.” Maria looked at the newspaper on the end table.“Did you read that mustard is good for burns?” She pointed to an article.“What does mustard have to do with Matt?”“Nothing.” She sighed.“I was trying to change the subject.”She walked off.Redfoot pressed his knife into the pine and removed a good chunk of frustration along with the wood.Since he was already ranting about the young folks, what in damnation was up with Sky? Why couldn’t that boy accept that fate had sent him a gift? Was the kid blind? If Redfoot were ten years younger, if his heart weren’t already half-taken, he’d go after Winters himself.Half the young men at the powwow tonight had tents in their loincloths from seeing her.Nope, Redfoot simply didn’t get young people today.Sometimes he wondered if his inability to understand them meant he was getting old, or if they were just as stupid as he thought.He let that question sit and finally decided they were just stupid.And fate didn’t have much patience.Fate was about to kick ass; Redfoot felt it.From the dream he’d had last night, someone was going to try to hurt Blue Eyes.In his dream, it had been a bulldog [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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