It Takes Two (17 page)

He’d always been good at taking care of people, but he did it by making them laugh, giving them a good time, helping them forget about the bad stuff. With Iz, he was going to need to focus on the bad stuff. He was going to have to take it all in, learn what he could, and try to make things work.

He’d do the hard stuff, but dammit, he’d enjoy this reprieve along the way.

“What did Bradley say when he gave that back to you?” he asked.

“That we have to get it to this drop site in the Black Hills.” She handed him a piece of paper with driving directions on it.

Shane looked up at her. “Why?”

“Because…” She clearly didn’t know how to answer that. She didn’t want to say
Because it’s a big game and that’s how we win
.

He fought his smile. “Maybe we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

She smiled, obviously relieved he was dropping it. “Okay, so let’s go before Harris finds us.”

He looked at the woman before him. He was in love with her. And she was apparently having a great time. Oh, yeah. He could play the game.

“Yep, we better get going,” he said, pushing off from the car and clapping his hands.

“You’re riding with me now, right?”

He remembered the feeling of fear when he’d seen Bradley in the car with her. Even knowing that this was all fake, it still made him a little sick to think that she’d been right there in front of him, but out of reach for him to protect. “Damn, right,” he told her sincerely.

He felt a stirring in his gut as he slid into the passenger seat. That familiar, this-is-gonna-be-a-good-time instinct.

It took half an hour to find a place to store Shane’s motorcycle for the week, but he seemed happy about the arrangement as they got into Isabelle’s car, finally ready to leave Mitchell.

“You sure you don’t want to drive?” she asked, buckling her seatbelt.

He held up the book about fibromyalgia. “I have some important reading to do.”

As it had at the bookstore, his interest and willingness to learn choked her up. “Okay.”

“Unless you need me to drive for a while?” he asked. “I mean, it’s been a pretty stressful day so far.”

He was sincere, so she didn’t snap at him that she was fine. She gave him a smile. “No, I’m good.” In fact, she felt great. She’d had a lot of fun so far. Which was probably strange, but it had been like a rollercoaster ride and she was still feeling the effects of the adrenaline.

“But you’ll tell me if you need a break?” he asked.

She glanced at him. She loved him like crazy. But if he was going to start hounding her about stuff now that he knew she had a few challenges, she was going to
go
crazy. “Shane, this isn’t going to work if you’re constantly worrying and bugging me.”

He sat back in his seat and nodded. “Okay, you’re right.”

“I promise to tell you if I need a break.” She would try anyway. She wasn’t good at asking for help. She pushed. She knew that. Especially with him. But she also knew that she was going to have to get better about taking care of herself.

“Okay.” He settled further into the seat and opened the book without another word.

Surprised, but grateful, she pulled onto the main highway out of town and headed west.

Chapter Seven

He read and she drove for about fifteen minutes before he said, “Emma doesn’t know?”

She glanced over. “What?”

“That you climbed into bed for two days in a hotel after that music festival?”

Oh, that. Isabelle was close to her sisters. There were no secrets. Until a few months ago. When she’d started feeling bad, she started with small lies, the ones about needing to work late, for instance. And even now, with it all out on the table, she still kept things from them sometimes. Especially Emma. Emma knew that she got sore and tired and that she needed a night off here and there. She knew about the knitting. She knew about the medications. But she didn’t know that Isabelle occasionally hid away. It would have hurt her sister and worried her even more that Isabelle felt the need to get away from her sometimes.

“I haven’t told anyone about that stuff but you,” she finally confessed to Shane. “I’m trying to figure it all out myself.”

“Does Conner know about any of it?”

She glanced at him sharply. “No. And I’ve told the girls that they’re not allowed to tell him. Or my mom.”

She wanted to have a better handle on things before she told them. She wanted to know exactly what worked for her and what didn’t so she could tell them how it was going to affect…everything. She didn’t want them asking a bunch of questions she couldn’t answer. That would do nothing to reassure them and would frustrate her.

He flipped a page. “How many books have you read?”

“Books?”

He held up the one in his lap. “Books. About fibromyalgia.”

She pretended to be interested in the rearview mirror and changing lanes. “I have five books that my doctor recommended.”

“Five. Wow.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Okay, things were supposed to be changing. She needed to start being honest with the people around her as well as with herself.

“But I haven’t read more than a chapter or two,” she confessed.

“That’s it?”

“I’ve read the brochures the doctor gave me and I’ve been on a few websites,” she said. “And I went to the support group meeting a couple of times.”

She didn’t really want to read any books about it. She would. Eventually. This week, once she got to the cabin, if things went according to plan. But she’d rather read books about how to excite her man in the bedroom, how to excite her man outside of the bedroom, and how to knit gloves. Reading a book about fibromyalgia would make it way more official and way harder to ignore the things she
should
be doing that she didn’t want to do.

She glanced at the book Shane held.

And overwhelming.

The thing was a good two inches thick. That was a lot of information to absorb.

She thought maybe she’d be better with little bits and pieces.

“Support group?” he asked. “You’re going to a support group?”

She nodded. “It’s a group that my doctor recommended. It’s led by a psychologist who specializes in helping people with chronic conditions.”

“So you’ve been sitting around telling strangers all about your condition and issues for the past few months but haven’t bothered to mention it to your brother?”

That was his cop voice. He used it with her from time to time, but it rarely worked.

“Or you,” she filled in, looking over at him. “That’s what you’re really upset about—that I didn’t tell
you
.”

“Damn right I am,” he said.

“Why?” she wanted to know. “Why would you want to hear all this depressing and frustrating crap? I can’t do all the things I want to, Shane. I can’t load up on sugar and caffeine—two of my favorite food groups—I can’t wear four-inch stiletto boots, and I can’t stay up until three a.m. rocking your world in every position I can imagine without feeling the effects for days after. And not in a good way,” she snapped. “Why would you want to hear all of that?”

He sat glowering at the road in front of the car.

“Yeah. You don’t want to. You don’t want to hear ‘I can’t’ or ‘I hurt’ or ‘I’m pissed’ or ‘I’m going crazy’,” she said, her tone—and chest—still tight. She didn’t want to lay all of this on him. She really didn’t. This was exactly why they probably shouldn’t come home from this trip as a couple.

They didn’t speak for nearly two minutes.

But just when she thought he was going to drop it, he said, “I did yoga at Emma’s place last night.”

That wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all. She waited to see if he was going to add to that.

“And there’s a chapter in here about acupressure and massage for at home.”

She glanced over. He was still staring out the windshield.

“And Ryan knows a lot about herbs and vitamins and other stuff for improving your diet and getting off sugar. Your brother’s been trying it and has been nagging the rest of us on the team about it.”

As the quarterback for the Hawks, Conner had more or less fallen into the role of team captain. He was always nagging them about something.

Shane didn’t say anything more so she said, “And?”

He looked over at her. “I’m just saying that yoga isn’t so bad, I’m willing to try it again. And I can use these massage techniques on you if you want. And I need to eat better too. I could definitely cut back on the beer. And whiskey.”

She had to glance back at the road but she wanted to stare at him. She didn’t know what to say exactly. The idea of trying to cut down on the caffeine and alcohol had seemed impossible if she was going to keep trying to hang with Emma and Shane. But if he was willing to cut back too, it would be so much easier. And what woman would say no to Shane Kelley offering a personal massage?

“You want to try some of this? With me?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like yoga and eating well are a
bad
idea for anyone.”

“That’s…sweet.” He may not be quite as willing once he was trying to survive on green tea in the morning instead of coffee, but at the moment it was very nice.

“You can’t keep doing things you’ve always done,” he said.

She nodded. “Right.”

“And I can’t keep doing them if you’re not doing them.”

She breathed a heavy sigh. “Well, there’s the problem. And why I haven’t told you before this. I don’t want you to change your life for me, Shane. That isn’t fair.”

He shifted on the seat. “But isn’t that what you do? I mean, you’ve already changed my life. I’m sleeping with one woman now. I’m not asking anybody else to dance. I’m hanging out with your brother in spite of the fact that he wants to kick my ass more often than not. Those are all things I wouldn’t be doing if I didn’t love you.”

She couldn’t help but smile at all of that. It was all true, she supposed.

“But you still get to be out and dance and drink and have fun,” she pointed out. She wanted it to be as easy as him going to yoga and eating more salads with her, but those were small things. Shane was still Shane. He’d always be Shane. Even if he drank green tea in the mornings, he’d still need the big party, the fun, the noise. “When I cut back on that stuff, suddenly you’ll be at the bar at midnight without me. Then you
will
be asking other girls to dance.”

Which she also hated. It wasn’t just the idea of being without him. It was him being without her. She didn’t think he would cheat, but if he broke up with her and
then
slept with someone else, it wouldn’t be cheating. And it would still hurt like hell.

She could say that he could go out without her and have fun while she stayed home and knitted and went to bed early. Of course. They weren’t joined at the hip. They didn’t have to be together twenty-four-seven.

But Shane would always be jetting off to another big party somewhere and there would always be another woman willing and ready to go with him. Eventually, it would hit him that he didn’t want to sleep in that Vegas hotel room by himself…and he’d find someone who loved Vegas hotel rooms.

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else,” he finally said softly.

“I don’t want you to, either,” she said honestly. “But I don’t want you to give up dancing.” She meant both things equally, which was what was making her nuts.

They didn’t say anything else. Shane read several pages. Isabelle tried to concentrate on the song on the radio.

“We should probably have sex in a hot tub,” he said in the middle of a Nickelback song.

She looked over at him. “Okay.”

He actually grinned. “You’re supposed to ask why.”

She shrugged. “Hot tub. Sex with you. Why would I question that?”

He chuckled and she felt some of the tension that had been building ease from her shoulders.

“It says here that moist heat can help with your muscle pain and that some sexual positions can be difficult because of stiffness. Having you on top is supposed to help because you can control the motion and the depth of penetration.”

Isabelle felt a little moist heat already at his words. She wiggled in the seat and cleared her throat.

“I figure we can combine all of that to make things better,” Shane concluded.

“Well, I think that’s a hell of an idea,” she said.

He closed the book and turned slightly in his seat. “This is bugging the shit out of me.”

She looked over at him. “What is?”

“The sex and you being in pain.”

She looked back to the road, then back to him. “Do I act like I’m in pain?”

He frowned. “No. But you also act like Dr. Fitzerman tells hilarious jokes.”

Okay, he had her there. Herb Fitzerman, the gastroenterologist Shane had met at her company’s Christmas party, was definitely
not
funny. But when he chatted with Isabelle he always left thinking he was clever and witty. And she always left with new sales.