Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
SHARP AS A MASHED POTATO
Dallas
“Drink your tea,” the duke commanded, his breeches surely so tight they were putting him in quite the mood.
She took a sip, only to nearly gag as fire raced down her throat. “Wh-what is this?” she rasped.
“Whiskey. Perhaps now you will not faint for a fourth time.”
She glanced at her teacup, then took another tentative sip.
She found she rather liked the taste of whiskey now that she was properly braced for it.
Perhaps this was the missing ingredient from all the boring tea she’d been forced to drink during the season.
She giggled out loud, then clapped a gloved hand over her mouth.
“Dad?” Ryder’s voice echoes across my workshop, startling me.
I hit pause on the audiobook I’m listening to while I stain the matching coffee tables I’m just about finished with.
The morning sun is streaming through the windows and making my work look that much better.
I could do without the heavy smell of chemicals coming from the varnish though. “What are you listening to?”
“It’s an audiobook called The Duke and His Devilish Desires. I don’t really have time to sit down and read, so I figured this would do.”
Ryder comes over to inspect the tables. Nelly lifts from where he’s been napping to greet my son. “Do what?”
Sighing, I carefully place my brush across the top of the stain can. “I’m trying to understand women.”
Watching Shelby cry the night of her birthday made something in me break.
I meant it when I offered to give her children, but I don’t think she understands how I feel about her.
She probably thinks I’m still that guy who flirts with every female.
I’ve got to come up with a way for her to take me and my feelings seriously before we waste any more time.
Her poor ovaries don’t have much left before self-destruction, according to the articles I’ve been reading about perimenopause. Frightening stuff.
I also saw the title of the romance novel Shelby started reading yesterday and instantly downloaded the audio version.
I figure if I can understand what she loves about these fictional heroes, I can simply copy what they do.
Surely, she’ll fall in love with me if I make a grand gesture like her fictional friends.
I pat myself on the back in my head. Look at me go, already using Shelby’s language.
Now I just have to figure out what grand gesture to make.
Ryder wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really that hard. Mom says women want to be listened to. Which seems a bit basic. Doesn’t everyone want to be listened to?”
I clap a hand on his shoulder and wonder if now’s the time for another birds and bees lecture. Probably not. I haven’t figured out anything further about women worth imparting.
“I think listening might be just the first step.”
He gags and spins in a circle, mimicking another flip turn. Nelly darts around him, tail wagging. “There’s steps? Like, how many? Two? Four? A hundred? How many, Dad?”
Oh boy. There he goes, down a rabbit hole lined with questions on a subject I know nothing about. Time to try redirection. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the day I met Shelby?”
Ryder stops moving, and Nelly sits like a good boy. “Weren’t you my age?”
I ruffle his hair. “Just a bit older. Teenagers.” And then I tell him the story, embellishing along the way because why not make the story even funnier? When I get to the end, I have a lightbulb moment. “Hey, buddy. Want to help me out with something?”
“I need a favor,” I say the next day as I stop by the ranch to help out.
Ridge is in a mood, stomping around and scaring all the sick animals. Nelly even took one look at the guy and headed off in the opposite direction. Ridge lifts his head to scowl at me. Hey, at least he didn’t take a swing at me.
“I’m doing this grand gesture thing for Shelby when she gets here to check on the calves. Pops and Frankie are in on it. I’d appreciate it if you just let it happen. Don’t spread your sunshine.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” he growls. I don’t miss the way his hands ball up into fists. Damn, he’s not taking Tiff’s absence very well at all.
“The grand gesture thing or the sunshine thing?” I clarify.
“All of it.”
“I’m recreating the day we met. It’s some romantic crap that Shelby loves, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your bad mood far away from my grand gesture.”
His top lip curls up. “No problem.” And then he stalks away.
“You know, you should get your hormones checked. You might be in perimenopause!” I call after him, remembering what I read about mood swings.
He raises his right arm in the air and flips me off. A few moments later, I hear the front door to the house slam shut.
I shake my head at his foul mood and pull out a walkie-talkie from the set that I gave both Pops and Ryder.
I’ll have to deal with Ridge later. Stepping out of the paddock, I only have to wait a few minutes until I see Shelby’s blue heap of metal turn into the drive.
I press the button on the side of the walkie-talkie.
“Standby, good men. The eagle is almost in the nest.”
The thing squawks in my hand before Ryder’s excited voice rings out. “Wait. An eagle? Can I come see?”
Pops saves me from his own walkie-talkie in the house. “The eagle is Shelby, son.”
It squawks again. “Why didn’t you just say Shelby?”
I grin, wishing Ryder was right by my side instead of back behind the barn so I could rough him up in a bear hug. God, I love his brain. Shelby’s car finally comes to a halt, a dust cloud fanning out behind her. I press the side button again. “Okay, Ryd. Let her loose!”
Shelby steps out of the truck and slams the door shut. I hide the walkie-talkie in my back pocket. “What are you doing here? I thought you were delivering the end tables?”
I walk toward her, grinning like a fool. Damn, she’s pretty. Tight blue jeans, a cotton work shirt, and coppery hair tied up on top of her head. Something about a smart, capable woman really revs my engine. Especially now that I know what it takes to get her to drop her toughness and moan my name.
“Hey, Sweetness. Imagine seeing you here.”
She tilts her head like she’s trying to figure me out. And then her gaze skates over my left shoulder. I hear hooves digging into the dirt. Shelby points, and I turn to see our old milking cow, Clara, leaving the barn like she’s breaking out of prison. I whistle, and Clara’s eyes widen.
“Well, shit. One got loose,” I say loudly.
Shelby spares me a single bewildered look, and then she takes off after Clara, already crooning at her with that voice that makes animals and men alike melt at her feet.
Clara slows, then turns in Shelby’s direction, wanting to bask in her attention.
I follow, my plan unfolding perfectly. I wait to play my part until Shelby gets her hands on Clara’s head to give her a good scratch.
“Did you steal my cow?” I ask, real innocent like. If I had to choose a new career, I’d have to say acting would be a good one for me.
Shelby looks at me like I’ve suffered a stroke. “I’m sorry, what?”
I point to her, pushing back a full-on grin. “Did you steal my cow?” I lean in and whisper as loudly as I can. “Now you’re supposed to deny it. Remember?”
Shelby’s fist plants itself on her hip. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I have not! This cow was just running down the street!” I declare. Okay, fine. We’re switching roles. I can run with that.
Shelby’s mouth flops open, then snaps shut.
I soldier on. “Well, I thank you for catching her for me.” I hold out my hand. “Dallas Gamble.”
Shelby lets go of the cow and takes my hand with all the reluctance she showed me the first time we met. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. Mind filling me in?”
I flash her my flirtiest smile. When her cheeks take on a pink glow, I know I still got it, even after all these years. My stage whisper is unnecessary because no one else is around to overhear us getting off script. “I’m recreating the day we met, Sweetness. It’s what you call a grand gesture.”
Shelby guffaws. “I know what a grand gesture is, Dally.”
“Then play along!” I let go of her hand to redirect our attention to the cow that we need to put in the trailer I already placed in the driveway, but Clara’s gone. “Oh, shit.”
Shelby’s gasp rings out as we both turn to see her chewing up Pops’s flowerbed in front of the house. I run over there as fast as I can, knowing Pops will kill me if Clara ruins the flowers. He’s been tending these flowerbeds in Momma’s absence for years now.
The walkie-talkie screeches from my back pocket. “I’ve gotta pee. Can I leave the barn now?”
I pull out my device and press the side button. “Yes, Ryder. Go to the bathroom. I’ll get Clara.”
The moment of distraction is all Clara needs, though.
She’s abandoned the flowerbed to sniff the brood of Silkies that have come around the side of the house, intent on seeing what’s going on out here.
One flies in the air with a wild flap of her wings, not appreciating a large cow nose sniffing her backside.
Another pecks at poor Clara’s ear. She retaliates by stomping her hooves, which makes all the chickens dance and squawk.
“What are you doing to my precious chickens?” Meemaw hollers from the front porch. Oh, great. She was snoozing in her chair with the television droning on just a few minutes ago.
The walkie-talkie screeches again. “Is that my cue to start the music?” Pops asks from the kitchen.
“Stay away from my babies, you beast!” Meemaw screeches.
Clara doesn’t like the screaming, though. She head-bops a chicken, sending it flying back several feet. Meemaw gasps. “I’m gettin’ the shotgun!”
Jesus Christ.
Shelby reaches my side as Ryder streaks past on a mission to find the bathroom. She hands me a rope. “I’ll talk to her. You get this around her neck.” She’s fighting back laughter, and as embarrassing as this is, I don’t blame her.
Shelby sweet-talks Clara away from the hens long enough for me to rope her and start leading her back to the barn.
Thankfully, we make our escape before Meemaw can get the shells in the shotgun.
Shelby comes with me to the barn, tossing me sidelong glances as I grumble under my breath.
I may kick a few rocks while I’m at it too.
She waits to speak until I get Clara in her stall and feed her some carrots as a reward, even though she didn’t follow directions at all. I pull my cowboy hat off my head and circle it around in my hands. When I lift my head, Shelby is smiling at me from ear to ear.
“Recreating the day we met?” she asks softly.
I wince. “That could have gone better.”
Her smile is contagious, though, because I feel myself smiling back before long. Shelby launches herself at me unexpectedly, her arms squeezing the ever-loving hell out of my neck. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her tight. At least she doesn’t hate me for botching the grand gesture.
“Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.
“For fucking that up spectacularly?” I whisper back.
She shakes with laughter, and I join in. By the time she pulls away, we’re both laughing so hard we have tears in our eyes. I sling my arm around her shoulders and walk her to the paddock so she can get going on checking out the calves.
So much for a grand gesture to make her fall in love with me. I better read a few more romance novels before I try again.