Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
TEN POUNDS OF CRAZY IN A FIVE-POUND SACK
Shelby
“Did you know your sister has two new rescue swine?” I hang my bags on the back of one of Dallas’s kitchen stools and raise my voice.
I stopped on the way home to pick up some fresh blueberries and a couple cute blueberry dish towels.
It’s National Blueberry Month after all, and if I’m staying here, I’ve gotta bring the Shelby touch.
“Yup. Saw ’em rolling around in the mud when I was mucking stalls,” he calls back from upstairs. Must be supervising Ryder’s shower. I look at my watch and see it’s already seven.
Dallas’s house sits on ranch property, close enough to the main house that it’s convenient but far enough away that nobody is going to walk in on him cranking his hog, as he puts it.
(You won’t easily find a classier fellow than Dallas Gamble.) But it means you drive past the barns and outbuildings on the way here.
I toe off my sandals. My work boots never leave the back of my truck, seeing as I’m not a person who enjoys horse poop in my living space. “Did she tell you their names?” I pad to the bottom of the stairs, noticing that the mess I cleaned up in the living room before work is already back.
It’s been a few days since the scene at Knockin’ Boots, and our engagement story has made the rounds all over town.
As has the way we apparently attacked each other on the dance floor.
But if I thought things would be awkward after that, Dallas’s behavior hasn’t changed one bit, so I’m following his lead and pretending it never happened.
Secretly, though, that impromptu make-out session has been using up way too much of my brain capacity.
Of course, I knew Dallas was both experienced and naturally sexy, but holy hormones!
When his tongue pushed past my shocked lips, several long-dormant places in my body lit on fire—and even a few I didn’t know had nerve endings.
The soles of my feet in my favorite boots even tingled while my toes curled up tight.
My breasts literally heaved like a cartoon character’s.
I’ve never been kissed like that in my entire life.
There was nothing choreographed or calculated.
It was just pure animal instinct. I was ready to jump him and ride him like I stole him.
“Do I want to know?” Dallas calls back from upstairs. “She’s incapable of using a normal name like Porky.”
I grin. “I promise you do.”
“Okay, lay it on me.”
“Tammy Swinenette and Snoop Hogg!” I snicker as big and little Gamble appear on the staircase, Ryder in Spiderman pjs and Dallas in another of his T-shirts paired with jeans and bare feet.
“Pigs are really good swimmers. Did you know that?” Ryder asks as he skips the last step and jumps onto the wood floor.
“Too bad we don’t have a pool to test that theory,” Dallas says.
Ryder pivots as only an eight-year-old boy can. “We could put them on the trampoline.”
“Sorry. I have to work that day.” I turn and head for the fridge, my stomach grumbling as I open the door. “Oh my god. Is that salsa from Eduardo’s?” I spin around to face Dallas again. He’s leaning on the raised countertop, eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah. I had to run to Hornville today, so I picked some up.” I could kiss the man. Oh, wait, I already did.
As if I have to remind myself.
“Shelby, are you gonna live here from now on?”
My head jerks at Ryder’s question. “Umm…” Why in the hell wasn’t I ready for this?
Thankfully, Dallas comes to the rescue. “Come pick which movie we’re gonna watch tonight, kiddo.”
I take advantage and push the distraction. “You looking forward to school starting next month, Little G?”
“Nah. I wish it would be summer break forever.” He watches as Dallas scrolls through the movie options on the TV.
“But you get to see all your friends.”
Ryder only shrugs. The kid kills me. He’s so smart and funny and loving, but being on the autism spectrum presents a lot of challenges that most of his peers don’t even have to consider.
“We should plan a fun adventure before summer’s over,” I declare.
He spins from the TV, eyes bright now. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a camping trip? Or we could go to the big city and visit the aquarium.” Considering he swims like a fish, it might be compulsory at this point.
“Can we, Dad?”
Dallas nudges his son’s shoulder. “Maybe. We’ll see what the calendar looks like.”
I head to the bedroom to change and then busy myself preparing movie snacks, gathering everything on a tray I unearth from a high cabinet.
As soon as Ryder sees the giant bowl of popcorn, he props himself on his favorite bean bag chair and digs in.
I, on the other hand, plan to focus on the chips and salsa. “So, what are we watching?”
“Jumanji,” Ryder informs me. “I like the part where Bethany has to learn how to pee like a boy.”
“Well okay then.” I settle my butt onto the couch next to Dallas and prepare to be dazzled.
“What’s wrong with your foot?” Dallas asks thirty minutes later as the Rock sends a smoldering gaze to the camera.
I glance over at him and then down at my hands, where they’re rubbing my right foot. “Nothing,” I whisper. “I just pulled a muscle or something. One of Gavin Heeley’s fillies has a head wound, and the little drama queen didn’t feel like cooperating.”
Without a word, Dallas palms my calf and pulls my foot onto his lap where he proceeds to knead it with his strong fingers and thumbs. I’m pretty sure I orgasm.
Honestly, if this is what it’s like being married to Dallas, I could get used to it.
By the time the credits roll, Ryder is fast asleep in his giant bean bag chair, and I have half a mind to join him. Dallas rises from the couch, stretching his arms above his head and revealing a slice of tanned and toned abdomen which I studiously ignore.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot.” His voice is scratchy as he shuffles to the entryway, and I wait for him to return and explain himself.
When he reappears, a small black projectile nearly hits me in the face.
Good thing my reflexes are honed from years of working with huge animals who could kill me with one misstep.
“What is this?” I pick up the small box from the couch cushion where it landed, and it looks like a jewelry box.
“Open it up and see.”
My hands begin to tremble for some stupid reason. The lid opens with a click, and I have no idea why, but I bark out a laugh before slapping a hand over my mouth and checking that I didn’t wake Ryder.
“And people ask me why I’ve never gotten married,” Dallas drawls, complete with an eye roll at my antics.
“No! I’m sorry, it’s just…” I have no idea how to finish that sentence because inside the box lies the most quintessentially Shelby ring I’ve ever laid eyes on.
There’s a row of three stones—one large one in the center banked by two smaller ones—in an intricate filigree setting that looks like flowered vines curling around the centerpiece.
It’s exquisite and absolutely the ring I would choose for myself.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I finish lamely.
I mean, I guess it’s good to have a ring because people keep staring at my bare finger.
But I just figured we’d go with something out of a Cracker Jack box, if at all.
“It’s not…real, is it?” There is no way he’s spending true engagement ring kind of money on something so temporary.
“’Cause I’m not sure if jewelers accept returns. ” Please let it be fake.
I can’t make out his expression, partly because he’s in shadow. “No.”
“Oh, thank god.” I laugh with relief, quieter this time. I have to say it’s a beautiful ring, even if it is costume jewelry. I wonder where he found it.
I close the box and bring it with me as I clear the snacks and take them to the kitchen. “So, what are people saying to you about all this?”
Dallas joins me, grabbing the popcorn bowl and emptying the unpopped kernels into the trash.
“Oh, you know.” He adopts a super redneck-ey tone.
“‘Damn, Dallas, I never thought I’d see the day you settled down.’ That kinda thing.
” I take the bowl from him to wash it, and he grabs a dish towel.
“Although D’Wayne said he’d shoot me dead if I broke your heart. I’m pretty sure he meant it too.”
“Aww. I’ve always had a soft spot for him.” Dallas takes the wet bowl and starts to dry it while I move on to the rest. “I guess nobody will be too surprised when we break up then. Your reputation as a bachelor is set in stone in these parts.”
He reaches up to put the bowl back in a high cabinet while I duck under his arm to get to the fridge. This is a choreographed routine we’ve had down pat after years of movie nights and last-minute suppers. “Why would I want to invite heartbreak like that?”
“You mean falling in love with someone and throwing caution to the wind?”
He hands me the mostly empty salsa container. “Yeah. Seems crazy to me. You’ve watched Pops all these years. The man is still in pieces over my momma, and it’s been eighteen years. No thanks.”
I straighten and turn from the open refrigerator door. “I guess my parents were lucky in a way. Nobody had to go first and leave the other behind.”
“Not to mention divorce rates,” Dallas barrels on.
“Half the town is full of bitter divorcees. I remember when Derek and Jenny were so gone over each other he even skipped our guys’ trip to Vegas because she got the flu.
Now the only thing they can agree on is how much they despise one another.
” He looks like he either wants to spit or puke.
“Maybe.” I shrug and close the door before leaning back against it. “I don’t know. None of that stops me from holding out hope. But it’s good to know yourself and what you do and don’t want for your life.”