A dad. Ever since that night at the clinic, the title had seemed to fit more, like a shirt that had shrunk down to the right size at last. And now that he had that role, he wasn’t giving it up. He spared a glance at Shane. He was something else now too, something that still didn’t have a name, but hell if he was walking away from that either.
But right then, his top priority had to be Jewel, even if parts of him wanted to go to Shane, to soothe his anger and hurt.
“What do you want, Shelby?” Brandt crouched next to her, keeping his voice low, still wary and on edge.
“I don’t know.” She kept staring at the baby, not touching her but not looking away either. “Some lady lawyer has been leaving me messages...”
“Of course you don’t know what you want. No surprise there.” Shane sounded more tired than mad, but the bite was still there in his voice.
“Shane...” Having heard enough stories about Shelby and Shane’s losing efforts to keep her out of trouble, Brandt understood where the anger was coming from, but Shane also wasn’t helping anything either.
“I’m due on stage in forty minutes. I do not have time for this.” Shane raked at his hair.
“Why don’t you head to your gig?” Brandt suggested, trying to keep his tone neutral. “I can handle things here.”
“Yeah, maybe I should go.” Shane picked up his guitar case and bag.
“Do you need my keys?” Still keeping it light, Brandt dug in his pocket, but Shane held up a hand.
“I’ll take the RV.”
“Parking—”
“It’s a big lot. I’ll work it out.” Shane’s jaw was firm enough to sharpen an ax and his eyes were equally steely. He headed to the door, and Brandt stepped away from Shelby and Jewel to follow him.
“Be right back,” he said to Shelby, who was still peering at Jewel. She didn’t seem likely to move, let alone snatch her up, and Brandt couldn’t let Shane leave with this head of steam.
“Don’t.” Shane shook his head as they reached the steps, door shutting softly behind them.
“I get it. You’re mad.”
“Mad?” Shane blinked. “She left Jewel. She didn’t answer messages for weeks. And now she shows up, no warning, ready to ruin everything... Mad isn’t even half of it.”
“Maybe—”
“You’re going to give her the benefit of the doubt? No. Defend her all you want, but I finished making her excuses a long time ago.”
“I’m not making excuses.” Brandt matched Shane’s fed-up tone. “But from where I stand, I need her cooperation. A lot of yelling isn’t going to get any of us what we want and what Jewel needs.”
“Right. Your custody petition.”
“Exactly. I can’t kick her out, and I also can’t risk her leaving with the baby. I need to talk to Cameron, and I also need to talk to Shelby. Talk. Not shout her down.”
“I get it.” Shane stepped down to the yard, then turned back. “I do. You’re in a no-win situation. And I know you can’t have her finding out about...everything.”
“Maybe not yet,” Brandt hedged. He hadn’t gotten that far in his head yet, hadn’t worked out what Shelby was likely to think about him and Shane knocking boots. “But regardless, I want you to come back here after your gig. Please. We need to talk more.”
“Is there that much left to say?” Shane kicked at a dirt clump. “Fuck. I hate this.”
“Me too.” Fighting the urge to go to him, Brandt flexed his arms. “All I’m asking is for time to figure this out.”
Shane exhaled hard. “You’ve got it. And better you than me.”
“Shane—”
“I mean that.” Shane made a sweeping gesture. “You’re able to be nicer than I seem to be capable of right about now.”
“You’ve got reasons for being upset.”
“Yeah, I do. Good luck.” Shane resumed walking to his RV.
And he wasn’t kidding about running late. The last thing Brandt wanted was him speeding, so he couldn’t stop him from leaving, could only call after him, “Drive safe.”
That earned him a quick wave before Shane unlocked his rig. Damn. There was so much left unsaid between them. And he wanted to tell Shane that this didn’t have to change a thing between them, but he knew in his soul that it already had.
* * *
Shane had had hard performances before. He’d been hungry any number of times. And sick more than once. Tired, that too. In bad weather and overwhelming heat both. He’d faced tiny crowds and last-minute changes. But he’d never had any gig as difficult as the one after Shelby showed up. What was funny, though, was that his awful mood didn’t come out in flubbed lines or missed cues. No, it came out in the songs themselves, in the way they seemed to slice him open, the way his voice had a little more to it, until his throat ached every bit as much as his chest.
“Great set, man. Way to make them hurt.” Clapping him on the back as they started packing up, Tim was all smiles even if Shane wasn’t. Music was the best therapy he knew, but even it hadn’t cured his dark mood.
“That’s some instrument you’ve got there.” Elaine handed him his share of the tip jar. “I swear you almost made me tear up a time or two.”
“And that’s hard to do.” Tim bumped the drummer’s slim shoulder.
“Thanks.” Ready to get going, Shane pocketed the money. While he’d been singing, his brain had been too busy to dwell on what was happening at Brandt’s house, but now that they were done, all he could think about was what havoc Shelby had likely wreaked.
“Are we going to get you again next weekend?” Tim asked as Shane snapped his guitar case closed.
“I’m not sure.” Shane wished he had a better answer for the guy who’d been nothing but good to him. Hell, he wished he had a better answer for himself. “I’ve got a chance at a Portland competition show thing, but that’s filming early in the week. Still not sure if I’m going to take it.”
Tim’s eyes went wide with approval. “Filming? Dude, you don’t turn down a chance at video.”
“Yeah.” Shane nodded. He was going to regret it if he let the chance go, but nothing in his earlier conversation with Brandt had convinced him that taking the leap was the right thing to do. If Brandt cared like he said he did, Shane wasn’t sure how he could walk away from that. But now Shelby was back in town, bringing with her a whole new set of doubts. “Not sure whether I’m cut out for reality TV.”