Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
HE FELL FROM THE UGLY TREE AND HIT EVERY STICK ON THE WAY DOWN
Dallas
“I’m just gonna tell him to back off,” I say to Nelly.
He opens one eye and closes it again, content to nap the whole way to the Hornville Oil Refinery, which is closer to the city I try to stay away from. I tried Shane’s place already, and he wasn’t there. He also wasn’t at Shelby’s, so that’s something at least.
“Seriously. No fists. No shouting. Just an adult conversation about leaving Shelby alone.” My hands grip the steering wheel harder, just picturing that asshole’s face, but I force them to let go.
The forecourt is buzzing with workers. Half are getting off night shift while day shift is just arriving.
I scan the group heading in until I see an ugly brunette who looks like he had one too many drinks last night.
I hop out of the truck and holler Shane’s name.
It takes two more shouts before he turns in my direction.
His eyes go wide for just a second before he tucks tail and almost runs toward the plant entrance.
Thankfully, I’m still in shape from working the ranch, and I catch his elbow right before he can scan his card and escape inside. He turns to face me, tipping his nose in the air like he’s got no beef with me. Smug little bastard.
“Where you goin’ in such a hurry, Conover?” I drawl, plastering a grin on my face. I point at his hand, the one that’s wrapped in white gauze. “Hurt yourself?”
Several of his coworkers give us looks as they scan in and head to work, but none stick around to have his back. That says a lot about a man. As they flow around us, Shane lowers his voice, his dark eyes shifty and nervous.
“What are you doing here, Gamble?”
My arms fold across my chest of their own volition. I’m not one to bully or intimidate, but some situations call for it.
“I’m here to make sure you know to stay away from Shelby.” I’m proud of the way my voice comes out calm yet forceful.
Shane’s ugly face screws up. “I’ll handle things with my girlfriend without you butting your nose in, thank you very much.”
I lean in, my grin turning icy. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t have a girlfriend any longer. Shelby made that abundantly clear when you acted like a spoiled toddler.”
A few heads have turned our way again, and Shane shifts awkwardly in his dirty boots, all too aware of the attention we’re receiving.
“Yo, Shaney-boy, you broke up with Shelby?” one of the guys asks as he pauses in his attempt to get around us to the door. Several other guys stop in their tracks, wanting the local gossip.
Shane’s eyes shift around the faces in a panic before his face transforms into an ego-saving sneer. “I can do better, boys. You know that. I know that.”
Alarm bells ring so loudly in my head I would testify in court that they actually rang out from the side of the building. But this fucker ain’t done.
“Fat girls are too much trouble. Take ’em to dinner, and they eat you out of house and home, you know?”
One guy hoots and fist-bumps Shane. Rage is flowing through my body.
I feel like I’ve grown ten feet tall and strong as an ox in a split second.
The irony of this guy complaining about Shelby eating too much when she couldn’t eat a goddamn thing during their date because he ordered food she’s allergic to just sticks in my craw.
Calling my best friend fat because she has curves?
This fella’s gonna have more than a busted hand before I leave here.
My fist connects with his face before I register what’s happening. My knuckles sing, and Shane’s head flies to the side. He goes down like a sack of flour, a lump of crybaby lying on the shoes of his lame-ass friends. I point my finger in his face, fury making it tremble.
“Stay the fuck away from Shelby if you know what’s good for you.”
Shane, looking up at his coworkers, makes the wrong choice. Instead of backing down and being a decent human, he decides his ego and reputation are more important. His hand is busy trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose, but that doesn’t stop his weasel voice from digging his own grave.
“I can’t help it if she can’t resist me, Gamble. We both know she’ll come crawling back.”
I take a menacing step forward, and one of his coworkers puts his hand on my shoulder.
I shrug him off, holding my hands up as if to say I’m not going to hit the asshole again, though I don’t make any promises out loud.
I’m sick to death of these lame boys thinking they can talk trash about my best friend right after they’ve treated her terribly, or she’s dumped their asses.
Someone needs to teach them the lessons their momma forgot to teach. And that someone is me.
“She won’t be anywhere near you again because she’s engaged to me now. Keep my woman’s name out of your mouth, you hear me?”
“Engaged to you, Dallas?” A woman’s voice pulls my attention from Shane. Charlene Russell is standing just outside the ring of workers, her tote bag slung over her shoulder and a to-go cup of coffee in her hand. “Did I hear that right?”
My eyes slide shut for just a brief moment.
I hadn’t realized how many people were witnessing this little conversation between two men.
But most troubling is Charlene. She took over for her momma a few years ago as the chief gossip spreader in Big Knob, even though her administrative job here at the plant pays her bills.
She spreads gossip like it’s a professional sport.
Doesn’t hurt that she’s best friends with Norinne down at Knockin’ Boots.
Those two play the telephone game with every piece of juicy gossip that happens in our little town.
And this? The announcement that Shelby and I are engaged?
Shit, this might just be the juiciest tidbit Charlene has ever witnessed. The ladies of Big Knob have been trying to tie me down to just one woman since I copped a feel in the back of my old truck and realized girls were pretty fucking awesome.
Well, fuck me. Shelby’s gonna be pissed. We just hashed out that this whole thing was temporary. And private. This seems like not-so-private.
Charlene pushes the men out of the way, her grin making me want to slink back to my truck. Her short, bleached hair sticks up every which way like usual, her lipstick is the wrong shade of red for her skin type, and her eyes are lit up like a feral animal.
“You and Shelby? For real?”
You could hear a pin drop outside the oil plant, all these big men waiting for a piece of gossip like little old ladies with nothing better to do.
Hell, some of them don’t even live in Big Knob or know me from Adam.
I swallow hard, wondering how the hell to play this now that Charlene and half of Big Knob are witnessing my announcement.
I grab the back of my neck and wish I could go back to half an hour ago when I dropped Ryder off at practice and make better decisions. I could have waited until Shane went home. Confronted him there. But no, I had to let my anger lead me right into this trap.
“Um, yeah. Me and Shelby,” I manage to say, and even to my own ears it sounds lame.
Charlene lights up like I just told her she won the lottery. Her mouth opens wide at the same time the door to the plant slams open with a bang.
“What the hell’s going on out here? Are we working sometime today?” the foreman asks. His angry growl makes my skin crawl, and I don’t even work for him.
The workers all race for the entrance, Shane with them, leaving a trail of blood droplets on the concrete. Apparently, that’s not unusual around here because no one bats an eye.
Charlene is the only one brave enough to hang back for a moment, her hand landing on my pec muscle with a bit of unnecessary squeezing. “I can’t wait to hear how you proposed! Shelby’s waited almost forty years to be proposed to, so I know it must have been spectacular!”
With a wink, she scurries inside the building while my stomach drops lower than my boots.
The foreman gives me one more scowl for disrupting his morning, and then the door slams shut behind him.
I’m left alone, wondering what the hell just happened and approximately how much trouble I got myself into.
Before I’ve even reached my truck, I realize that this is bad. Real bad. News of this sort will spread faster than my old truck can travel. Before lunchtime everyone in Big Knob will know Shelby and I are engaged. By supper, they’ll be planning an engagement party.
I’ll be planning my funeral.
“Fuckity, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, sliding into my truck and running both hands through my hair. Nelly scrambles to his feet and looks at me expectantly. “I fucked up.”
He slumps back to the seat and faces his rear end in my direction.
Guess everyone’s mad at me. I slap my hand against the steering wheel and try to think of damage control.
I usually fly by the seat of my pants, and while that’s worked for me so far, I have a feeling I’ve really stepped in it this time.
I half-assed proposed to my best friend, then backpedaled and demanded she move in with me temporarily.
Shelby Sweet is no ordinary woman who might just pat me on the head and laugh off my fumbled attempts to make things right.
She’s dreamed of her wedding since the day she was born.
Has a wedding Pinterest board she updates every year.
Even made a fuckin’ mood board she keeps in her bedroom to keep her “focused on her dream future.”
Hell, the woman reads romances so unbelievable the man can get it up five times in one night.
I snuck one of her romances home one day and nearly laughed myself into an asthmatic event.
All that to say, the woman is caught up in a level of romance that no human male—especially me, a serial dater and runner from all things commitment—could ever live up to.
And in one misguided moment of chivalry, I tied her to me in the minds of every person we know.
“Oh, I really fucked up,” I groan, heading to the grocery store to keep Shelby from killing me with her bare hands. If there’s one thing I know Shelby wants, it’s romance. The second thing? Healthy food.
Despite what Shane said, Shelby gets low blood sugar.
Abdominal surgery from the car accident where her parents died left her with hypoglycemia for life.
I’ve seen her nearly pass out from not eating enough, so I’ve taken to keeping snacks on me just for her.
So, I’ll stock the house with all her favorites, grill up a juicy filet mignon tonight, and hope for the best.
It’s not a great plan. It certainly doesn’t solve our little issue with the whole town thinking we’re getting married for real. But at least as we brainstorm a solution together, she won’t be hangry.
I end up cleaning the house too, knowing Shelby likes a clean toilet and no dishes in the sink, a level of cleanliness this bachelor house doesn’t often see.
By the time she gets off work, the place is spotless, stocked with every snack known to man, and I’ve worked myself up into a tizzy with all the calls coming in on my cell phone.
I ignore every single one, knowing what people are calling about.
Ryder is upstairs on the new PlayStation he got for Christmas last year. I normally only allow him half an hour on that thing, but given the shouting that’s about to occur, I figure the video games are best.
The screen door slams ominously. I poke my head out of my bedroom, where I just put on clean sheets for Shelby. Nelly slinks between my legs and army crawls under the bed with a whine.
“What the hell did you just do, Dallas Beaufort Gamble?”
I wince, sucking in a deep breath and girding my loins. Literally, I put a hand over my junk, just in case she’s that mad. I take a protein bar out of my pocket and extend it out like a sword. And then I advance down the hallway, ready to meet my fate.