Chapter 22 #2
Shelby and the photographer run out the back while I stamp my feet on the rug as quickly as I can to put it out.
Several guys run up and toss their drinks on the tent, slowing down the progression of the fire.
People are either screaming and running away with their frightened children or running toward us with their own drinks in hand.
The next few minutes unfold in slow motion, cups and buckets and ice being thrown in every direction.
Shelby presses into my side, panic clearly written all over her face.
“I’m okay, Sweetness. You okay?”
She nods, but I can feel her trembling.
The fire is put out thanks to my fellow Big Knobbers, but not before we draw quite a crowd.
Billows of black smoke fill the air, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be paying for that photographer to get a new tent before the evening is over.
Worse than all of that, though, is the jeering face I see right at the front of the crowd.
Shane. Shelby’s ex-boyfriend.
Firefighters run past us, making sure the fire’s totally out. Shelby’s still trembling, latched on to me like she’s scared out of her mind. Fuck. I can’t believe I fucked it up again. It was all going so well, too.
“That’s the kind of loser you’re into now, Shelbs?” Shane calls out loudly. He scoffs. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
Shelby goes rigid. The shame I feel is heavier than this leather costume jacket.
I move to push her behind me, to shield her from this public display of stupidity that I’m sadly the instigator of, but she stands firm.
In fact, she squares her shoulders, her breasts nearly popping out of that barmaid costume.
Another regret of mine. I never intended for her to be in the public eye in that thing.
Before I can think of a way out of this ridiculous situation without losing any more of my dignity or getting Shelby in any further danger, she marches away from me. Straight for Shane.
I’m so stunned, I freeze, watching the scene unfold just like everyone else around us.
“Shut your lying mouth, Shane! Dallas Gamble is three times the man you could ever be! You tried to kill me with shellfish because you’re too thoughtless to remember I’m allergic. Want to see what a real man’s made of? Look no further than my fiancé.”
Shelby’s hands go to her hips, laying into the man like Meemaw when we threaten one of her chickens. I’ve never been more proud of her.
“He’s got more class in his pinkie finger than you do in your whole worthless body. Speaking of his pinkie finger, it’s bigger than your—”
Someone nearby whistles, drowning out the rest of that statement. “Ouch,” someone else murmurs.
I grin like an idiot and stroll over to her, leaning down to scoop her up in my arms. She’s still ranting and raving about small dicks and big trucks over my shoulder like a lioness as I walk her back to the tent to recover her clothes.
As soon as we get inside what’s left of the tent and she simmers down, I bend her over my arm and kiss the hell out of her before letting her go change.
I may have fucked up another gesture, but I refuse to fuck up my relationship with Shelby. She’s a queen, and quite frankly, I don’t deserve her.
She emerges from the partition with her own clothes on. I’ve handed over all the cash I had in my wallet to the photographer and promised to come back tomorrow with more. Shelby pulls me over to a stack of hay bales just outside the row of booths where we can speak in private.
“Humiliated enough for one day? Want to go home?” I ask, dreading her answer.
Shelby just stares at me, though, and it makes me uncomfortable. Is she going to ask me to call off this whole fake engagement thing now? My head drops just thinking about her wanting to move out. I’m such a goddamn idiot. I wouldn’t blame her.
“Dallas?” she asks softly.
I lift my head, square my shoulders, and tell myself to man up. If she’s breaking things off, I have to face it like a man.
“Yes?”
She reaches up and cups my face, her thumb stroking back and forth across my cheek. She’s totally breaking things off.
“What’s going on with you?” she finally asks. “The cow the other day? The photo booth? What are you doing, Dally?”
My head drops again, but she slides her hand under my chin and pulls me back up to meet her gaze.
“Just tell me.”
I try to look away, but she just shifts so that she’s in my direct line of sight.
Exasperated, I decide the only way forward is to be honest. I know, I’m stunned too, but if there’s one woman who can make me do things I normally don’t, it’s Shelby.
The words explode out of my mouth. Overdue and packed with frustration.
“I’m trying to do these grand gestures you say you love so much! I’ve read two romance books, and they gave me ideas, but it just doesn’t seem to work out for me. I’m pulling out all the stops, and they just end in failure!”
Shelby’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t let up on my chin. “But why? Why do all this?”
I gape at her. “Because I love you, Shelby! I’m in love with you!
You want a man to do all these romantic gestures, and I’m trying my best, but maybe I’ve been correct all this time.
I’m just not good enough for you. I mean, we’ve both known that, but I was still hoping I could be the man you said you’ve always wanted.
” I pull my chin out of her grasp, too upset to be still.
My hand finds the back of my neck, and my boots kick up dust as I pace back and forth.
“I thought if I could be the man you wanted, you’d fall in love with me too. But all I’ve done is mess things up and prove I will never be the man you want.”
“Dallas,” Shelby says, reaching for me.
I hold up my hand. “No. It’s okay. I don’t say all that to guilt you into feeling something for me that you don’t. I’m just telling you where my head’s at, okay?”
“Dude! Did you burn down the photo booth?” Frankie’s screech interrupts my tense confession, which is just as well. I’m done making a fool out of myself tonight.
“Did you finally cuss out Shane? My hero!” My sister and her wife rush over, talking over each other about the incident that everyone’s gossiping about.
Shelby, though, doesn’t say a word.