Behold the Stars (34 page)

Already in the throes of it, he nodded and let himself go. With his head tucked tightly on her shoulder, he came so hard he saw stars.

They’d had sex. He was inside her now, her naked body wrapped around his. They were together again. That had been the best sex of his whole goddamn life.

When he could, he lifted his head from her shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face. “You okay, baby?”

She smiled. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“We okay?”

Before she could answer, the baby kicked again, hitting Isaac in his belly. They both jumped and laughed, and Lilli said, “I think we will be.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Lilli leaned back in her chair and glared at her laptop. Her calendar was open on the screen, showing her appointments for the day. What a load of crap. When she’d had the brilliant idea to turn the Keller place into a B&B, she’d been driven by a series of compulsions—to honor Isaac’s friend and make his death meaningful, to help the town, and to help herself get clear of the hurricane in her head. She’d come at the project like a woman possessed.

Now, the house was built, the fields were sown, the fences were up. All that remained of the build was the barn, but Isaac was handling that, and she was trying to let him. He knew what she wanted. She had six horses, five goats, and a burro coming from the rescue ranch, once the barn was finished. Four of the horses were broken—or, no, it was “broke.” They were “broke” to ride. Either way, it was an awful term, but it meant that they could be saddled so guests could take trail rides through the woods. Badger, now officially her livestock manager, was going to get the other two horses under saddle (that term she liked a lot better) once they were on site.

One of the horses was trained to pull a cart, and Lilli had this tiny idea that someday she might have a cart and a sleigh for Edgar to pull. She envisioned hayrides in the fall and sleigh rides in the winter, complete with bells. She apparently had been assimilated completely into the country lifestyle, but she wanted the Currier and Ives version, not the David Lynch they’d been living.

All that was great, and she’d enjoyed planning and learning and organizing all of it. But she was absolutely buried under bureaucratic bullshit and paperwork. The hotel permits and insurance forms were the worst, by far. At seven months pregnant, Lilli was about out of patience dealing with incompetent, officious asshats. Show had been telling her she needed to hire a manager with experience, but her mission here was to help Signal Bend, not hire people from outside, and no one in town had the kind of experience she needed.

He kept pushing, and she eventually understood that she’d found her own limit. She couldn’t teach herself to be a hotel manager in a few months. She had too much going on—more than that, she fucking hated it, and she was not exactly doing a great job at getting bureaucrats on her side. Usually, she was good at finding an in with people, getting them to do what she wanted.

Not now, not for this. She’d yelled at a lot of people at whom it had been counterproductive to yell. They’d already had to push back the opening because she was being particular about the barn. She didn’t want to have to push it back indefinitely because every paper pusher in Jefferson City had it out for her and her bad attitude.

This had to work. She was sinking her father’s money into the project at a rate that was beginning to freak her out. Everything was beautiful. The barn, when it happened, would be beautiful. But it had to work as a business, too, and Lilli had discovered her limits.

So she’d contacted headhunters in St. Louis, Kansas City, and Tulsa, and she’d spent the past two days interviewing candidates for a hotel manager position. Within the first couple of interviews, she’d realized that the publicity Signal Bend had recently garnered was a big draw, and the first people she’d spoken with had been looky-loos more than anything. They had the credentials, but they were much more interested in being a part of the story than in running her bed and breakfast. So, no. She revised her questions specifically to weed those people out. She wanted someone who could see himself or herself settling in Signal Bend, even after CNN stopped doing stories about it. Even after Hollywood went away.

If, in fact, Hollywood ever actually showed up. The town was in negotiations to sell the option to the story, but whether that would turn into anything remained to be seen. If it did, and if they filmed any part of it in town, that would be a huge boon to Signal Bend’s resurgence. But if it didn’t, Lilli wanted stability. With the right people and the right plan, Signal Bend could stay on its feet as a cute little place to spend a quiet weekend and do some shopping.

They were out of the meth trade, and they needed to stay out. If they could get the town to earn a straight dollar, then Lilli and Isaac could raise their daughter in safety. No more attacks, no more kidnappings, no more torture, no more death. Just a life. Quiet and full.

She heard the roar of a Harley and pushed away from her desk, hoisting herself out of her chair. Her belly wasn’t colossally huge, but her center of gravity had certainly shifted. She didn’t mind. She’d spent the first half of this pregnancy in a horrid mental dungeon and had only been able to really enjoy what was happening inside her for the past couple of months. Now, with Gia doing acrobatics routinely, Lilli felt fully connected. She would almost be sad for her daughter to be born, when she’d have to share her with the world.

She came out of the office, past the little front desk, with its antique bell she’d found on eBay, through the lobby/parlor area, and out the door. The hotel was ready to go. She needed someone to get the permits arranged. Three more interviews this afternoon, after lunch. Lilli sighed.

Badger had pulled up the gravel drive on his new Dyna. Well, not new. The club had given him Erik’s bike as sort of an award, or a token of appreciation, for taking a bullet when Ellis’s men took Lilli. Erik had given his life in the Ellis affair. It had been a very hard year for Horde Prospects—another Prospect, Rover, had died on duty before the Ellis business had kicked into full swing.

Badge dismounted and set his helmet on the handlebars. He was looking pretty good. He’d been shot in the back, but since he’d recovered and had started helping out here, he’d been putting on some muscle. He was still a skinny shit, but he had some definition in his arms, some broadening in his shoulders. Hope for him yet.

She stepped off the porch, making sure not to waddle. There would be no waddling in this pregnancy. “Hey, buddy. How’s everybody doing?” He’d been up at the rescue ranch, checking on their adoptees. Lilli had already adopted the animals and was paying for their upkeep until the barn went up and passed the gajillion inspections it needed to pass.

“They’re good. Gypsy—Lilli, she’s the shit. Damn, that’s a fine horse. Got some spirit.” He grinned sheepishly. “I was thinking she’d make a great lead horse.” Gypsy was a big, black Tennessee Walking Horse.

Lilli laughed. “Meaning you want her, right?” He blushed. “Hey, bud. That’s your call. You’re the livestock manager. You want Gypsy for your ride, that’s fine with me.” His grin spread across his whole face then. He was cute. Someday, another year or two removed from his adolescent battle with acne, some time spent hauling fifty-pound feed sacks and giant hay bales, he might even make it to hot.

“Hey—I was headed to the kitchen for some lunch. There’s meatball sandwiches and macaroni salad. Want to join me, update me on the rest of the furbabies?”

“Sounds great.” They turned and headed back into the house. Lilli resisted the urge to pop him a good one when he took hold of her elbow and helped her up the porch steps.

~oOo~

After lunch, Badge, good boy that he was, helped her clean up, and then they headed back out to the lobby. Lilli was not looking forward to the afternoon interviews. Only one candidate so far had seemed remotely worthwhile, and that one, a woman maybe ten years older than Lilli, had seemed a lot less interested once Lilli had explained that the bikers everywhere were a permanent feature. Signal Bend was a biker town. Lilli was a biker old lady. They were around. And they weren’t politically correct.

The candidates who were there for the bikers—they were trouble of a whole different sort, and Lilli was not interested in them.

Badger was in the lead as they came through the swinging kitchen door. He stopped short, and Lilli, her head already deep again in work thoughts, ran right into his backside, belly first. Gia gave an irritated little kick and rolled at the impact.

Lilli was irritated, too. “Dude. What?”

Badger jumped. “Sorry, Lilli. Um…” He trailed off, looking embarrassed, then turned back to the lobby, continuing to stand in her way like a lump. Lilli looked around his shoulder. Oh. There was a woman in the lobby. Lilli checked the clock behind the front desk. It was fifteen minutes before her next interview, but she’d wager that this was the candidate, sitting on one of the new sofas.

“Badge. Can you get out of the doorway, please?”

He jumped again. “Oh! Sorry. I’ll…um…I’ll…yeah.”

“Show and Isaac are in back, working on the gazebo. You were going to talk to Show about the feed order, right?”

“Right—yeah, okay.” Finally, he moved, turning to head out the side door.

Lilli came through into the lobby. As she approached, the woman stood. She was tall—at least as tall as Lilli—five-nine or five-ten. Maybe a little taller. In the heels she was wearing, substantially taller. And she was gorgeous. No wonder Badge’s brain had shut down. Rich, red, shoulder-length hair (had to be colored—nature didn’t come that perfect), clear, pretty, intelligent face, and good God, a Marilyn Monroe body. Boobs and curves that were practically aggressive. Lilli, tall and extremely fit, confident in her looks—but seven months pregnant—had a disorienting moment of insecurity. For a half-second, she felt dumpy.

The woman wasn’t dressed especially provocatively. She was wearing a very nice, well-fitting suit, a forest green damask with a pencil skirt. Simple navy shell under it, navy peep-toe pumps. Nice. Not Lilli’s taste, but more stylish, she thought, than the basic navy blue uniform look she’d already seen repeatedly during these interviews. It fit her very well, so that the conservative nature of the clothes did nothing at all to camouflage the va-va-voom underneath.

Lilli’s first impression was no way. A woman built like this was a very bad fit for the job. She’d never survive the Horde’s attention, and Lilli was fully aware how little control she’d be able to keep over her Neanderthal family. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a fucking sexual harassment suit.

But she couldn’t just turn her around and march her right out, so she flipped through her mental files and pulled the name of her next candidate up. Holding out her hand with a smile, she said, “Shannon?”

Shannon smiled back and took Lilli’s hand. Her grip was confident. “Yes. I know I’m early—sorry about that. I guess I didn’t estimate the travel time from Tulsa so well. But better early than late, right?”

“Right. No problem. You’re not that early, anyway. You want to go ahead and get started, then?” Lilli indicated the door to the office. Shannon nodded, and they went back.

~oOo~

Well, shit. Shannon was perfect. She had the credentials, the experience. Her references, if they stood up, were great. She was smart. She had a dry wit, and she’d used it. Lilli appreciated the risk—showing one’s sense of humor in a job interview struck Lilli as something that could backfire. Not that she had a lot of job interview experience herself. Shannon asked good questions about the plans for the place. And hallelujah, she had contacts with the state.

They’d been talking for almost an hour. At some point, the interview had stopped being a question and answer session and had become a conversation. So Lilli brought up the problem of the Horde.

“One thing about this place. It’s deep country. You know, you drove it—we’re a ways from almost anything that resembles civilization. So we get a little insulated. I mean, I’m new here myself, not quite a year, so I’m still getting used to a lot of it. But this is a biker town.”

Shannon smiled. “Hard not to know that. Signal Bend was in the news a lot recently.”

Lilli nodded. “Yeah, true. But my point is—these guys are amazing. This town is something really special. But things here aren’t like things anywhere else. We’re sort of caught in a time warp. People around here think of things like political correctness as “newfangled.” They still talk about “that women’s lib garbage.”

“Ah. You know, I was raised in Karville. You know where that is?” Lilli didn’t, so she shook her head. “Deep in the Missouri Bootheel. I know country folk. I get what you’re not saying, and I know how to handle a redneck. Lots of experience.” Shannon leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.

As well as this interview was going, and as great as Shannon seemed to be, Lilli was on alert. “I have to be straight, Shannon. Your resume is great. You’re clearly smart and on the ball. My antennae are up, though, because this seems like a strange fit for you. You’re leaving a second-in-command position at a luxury hotel in a city. For an eight-room B&B in the boonies. I have to ask how that’s a good career move. If this is a fangirl thing, hoping to be around if a movie gets made here, then no.”

Shannon was quiet for a few moments, and Lilli got the impression that she was forming her answer. When she spoke, her blue eyes were serious. “My references are strong—and they include my current boss. My resume speaks for itself. As for why I’m looking for this kind of move, I’m going to have to ask you to believe me when I say that it has nothing to do with my professional life or my abilities to manage a facility like this. And I am not a fangirl. I’m not into actors
or
bikers. If there’s a movie, and it films here, that would be exciting for the business, but not something I’d be looking forward to on a personal level. My reasons for wanting to leave Tulsa are personal. I’d like you to respect that.”