Chapter 12 #2
His eyes roam over me, slow and deliberate.
“Not much I can do about the boots. You’d be tripping over in mine, and I’m not letting you twist another ankle.
But I do have a solution to your other problem.
” He takes off his hat and puts it on my head, adjusting the brim so it stays in place.
“There. Now you fit right in.” Shep fixes me with the same look he gets when I’m wearing his clothes—possessive with a touch of ownership.
I rise on my toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Mighty kind of you, cowboy.”
I wish he’d throw caution to the wind and give in to this thing between us already.
We both know it’s inevitable.
Shep’s gaze holds mine as his thumb grazes my bottom lip. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs.
My heart hammers against my ribs as he leans in closer, cupping my cheeks. His darkened gaze flicks to my mouth, and I sense he’s teetering on the brink of letting go of the restraint he’s been clinging to—when suddenly, a loud voice from behind him startles me.
“Look who finally decided to show up. I was beginning to think you might not come off that mountain until after Christmas.”
“Dammit, Casey,” Shep mumbles low enough so only I can hear.
The man in question comes into view behind Shep. Loose curls of sandy-blond hair spill out from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. His cream-colored shirt and leather vest are paired with dark jeans, and a faded red bandanna is tied loosely around his neck.
He stops short when he spots me standing so close to Shep, his gaze darting between us with an amused curve of his mouth.
“How come you didn’t tell me you were dating again?” Casey asks, grinning.
Shep takes a step back, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. “I’m not. This is my friend Noelle.” He refuses to meet my eyes as he introduces me.
His friend?
My stomach drops, stung by his offhanded delivery. What just happened felt beyond friendly. If we’d had a few more seconds, he would have had his tongue buried in my mouth again.
I extend my hand toward Casey, plastering a smile on my face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He accepts my handshake. “Not from around these parts, huh?”
“What gave me away?”
“Local folks aren’t so polite, and only tourists show up to the honky-tonk in fancy dresses.”
Shep grunts, shooting daggers at where my hand still rests in Casey’s. First he friend-zones me, then gets his feathers ruffled when his married friend is nothing but courteous?
A man approaches Casey, handing him a beer. “One cold IPA, nice and chilled.” He has on a leather vest and a bolo tie, the same uniform I’ve seen the servers wear.
“Thanks, Jake.” Casey takes a swig, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Just what I needed to get through tonight.”
Shep folds his arms across his broad chest with a raised brow. “Drinking on the clock again, are we?”
“It’s the price of leaving me in charge. Call it compensation for handling all the heavy lifting for the past decade,” Casey says, unapologetically.
“That’s what your salary is for,” Shep replies.
Casey rocks back on his boots, swirling the drink in his hand.
“You want a cold one, boss?” Jake asks Shep. “Or what about your girl? The specialty drink tonight is the Bootylicious Blitzen. It’s a mix of bourbon, peppermint schnapps, and a splash of cream.”
“Sounds delicious,” I say, resisting the urge to bite my lip.
“Sure is, sugar.” He grins. “But I’m gonna need to see some ID. Surprised the boss is stepping out with someone so young. He’s easy on the eyes, but these days he creaks when he stands and has more silver than black on top.”
I tip my head back, laughing. Shep, meanwhile, stands there with a scowl set like stone.
“You’re fired,” he grits out.
Jake smirks, completely unfazed. “Relax, boss. I’m only messing with you. Besides, you can’t cut me loose. Casey wouldn’t last a day without me. I’m his right-hand man and the one keeping morale up around here.”
Casey shrugs, tipping his beer to Jake. “Can’t argue with that. Gotta hand it to the kid for saying out loud what we’re all thinking. You’re basically our resident senior citizen. You do love a good early-bird special.”
“You’re only two years younger than me,” Shep grumbles, and we all erupt into another round of laughter.
“Guess I’m aging like fine wine. We can’t all be that lucky,” Casey taunts, playfully slugging Shep’s arm.
Watching someone else rib him is oddly satisfying. He may appear indifferent, but it’s all bark and no bite. If he really had a problem, he’d be far grumpier. I like that his employees are his friends and not afraid to roast him while still having his back.
“What’s the verdict on ordering that Bootylicious Blitzen?” Jake asks me, wiggling his brow.
“How about a soda instead?” Shep suggests. “She’s still healing from a twisted ankle, and I’d rather not risk her falling again. We don’t need any setbacks.”
“We’re at a bar, not an obstacle course. What’s she gonna trip over, a beer bottle?” Jake snickers, earning a sharp glare from Shep.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he snaps.
“Aye aye, boss,” Jake says, giving an exaggerated salute before strolling to the bar.
I put a hand on my hip, giving Shep a mock-serious look. “Playing doctor now, are you Shep? Good to see your talents extend past scowling and grunting, although your bedside manners could use some improvement.” It’s too much fun riling him up when he makes it so easy.
He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “You’re accident-prone enough without adding alcohol to the mix, but if you still want a drink, I’ll make it for you myself.”
My traitorous heart races. I’m such a sucker for his nurturing side and brand of protection. It’s impossible not to swoon when the rugged cowboy is zeroed in on my safety, even if it’s over the top. I’m not much of a drinker anyway, so I’m not bothered by missing out.
I pretend to examine my nails, feigning indifference. “I’ll skip the drinks tonight, but only because I’m confident you don’t know how to make a Bootylicious Blitzen.”
Casey snorts.
“Did I miss the memo that tonight’s ‘Roast the Boss’ night?” Shep complains.
“That’s every night you show up.” Casey’s mouth twitches in amusement as he holds up a hand to signal he’s got more to say. “Before you threaten to fire me, too, did you bring the rocking chair? I’d better get it in my possession before I’m sacked.”
Shep shoots him an exasperated eye roll. “It’s in my truck bed.”
I saw the finished product while he was loading it, and it’s exquisite. His engraving skills are remarkable. The piece looks like something you’d find in a SoHo showroom.
“Thanks, man,” Casey says enthusiastically. “It’s all Amy’s been talking about for weeks, and I can’t wait to see her reaction when I give it to her.”
“It’s nothing.” There Shep goes being modest again. “I’ll grab it from the truck and stash it in my office. I’ve got some paperwork to tackle, including termination forms.” He shoots Casey a subtle smirk before glancing at me. “Want to stay out here or come with me?”
As much as I want to see his workspace, I’d rather people watch. After days away from civilization, I want to take it all in. Besides, if we’re in a cramped space alone, I’d be tempted to distract him, and he probably wouldn’t get anything done.
“I can stay,” I say.
Shep points at Casey. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve got this, no need to fuss.”
“Never said you didn’t, but Casey’s still keeping an eye out for you,” he states curtly.
Unable to resist teasing him one last time before he goes, I rest my palm on his chest, rising to my toes to whisper in his ear. “Yes, Daddy.”
His breath catches, gaze dark and stormy, and I can’t resist watching him struggle to rein in his emotions.
Casey clears his throat, causing Shep to retreat a step, his jaw tight.
“I’ll be back,” he rasps before walking away.
As he heads toward the exit, I catch the subtle flex of his left hand. A smirk crosses my lips, pleased that he isn’t immune to me after all.
I glance at Casey, who’s dragging a hand down his beard as he studies me.
“You’re staring,” I remark.
He shrugs unapologetically. “Just trying to wrap my head around Shep strolling into High Noon with a woman on his arm, and letting you wear his hat no less. Is hell freezing over?”
I tip my head, laughter bubbling up. “Now you’re being dramatic.”
“No, ma’am, I’m not.” He rests against the wall, taking a sip of his beer.
“Shep never flirts with anyone when he’s here.
It’s not from a lack of trying on the women’s part, either.
The man’s got plenty of admirers. He’s a bona fide rugged cowboy, and the ladies are constantly vying for his attention,” he says with a wink.
Jealousy coils in my stomach as I scan the room, wondering if anyone here has tried their luck with Shep in the past. I wouldn’t blame them if they had. His muscular frame, mustache flecked with gray, and brooding gaze make him dangerously striking without even trying.
“He’s not exactly the most approachable person,” I agree.
Casey arches a brow. “You think? One time, a woman asked if she could try on his hat, and he threw her out for even asking. He’d wrestle a bull before he let anyone touch the thing.
It belonged to his dad, so it’s sentimental.
” He tips his head in my direction. “Yet here you are with the thing perched on your head, and he didn’t so much as complain.
Shit, he actually looked pleased you had it on. ”
I trace my fingers over the brim, each crease and indent a piece of Shep’s story, and I’m humbled he’s trusted me with his family heirloom.
It’s another reason I’m frustrated by his hesitation. He wants me, and everyone can see that, yet he’s convinced that restraining his desire is the “right” choice. Naturally, I disagree, desperate to make him abandon his self-imposed restraint and give in to what we both want.