Chapter Twenty-Six
TWENTY-SIX
He dreamed of courtrooms and fires, and a courtroom on fire. He dreamed of faceless monsters and pools of blood and, once, a clown. A clown in a courtroom on fire. The clown was screaming for help, but when it opened its mouth, it sounded a lot like Shepherd’s phone.
Shepherd jolted awake in a strange bed, surrounded by red hair and purple sheets.
Spitting both out of his mouth, he reached for his phone buzzing on the nearby end table.
A lithe, pale arm tightened around his stomach, a groan sounded in obvious disapproval of the movement, but the caller was Lex, and Shepherd always answered those calls.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice hoarse. “What’s, uh … good morning?”
“Father,” Lex replied. “At what time, perchance, will you be picking me up and taking me to Chloe’s house?”
His brain had turned to sludge. “Um. What?”
“You said—yesterday, remember?—that I could spend the night at Chloe’s house, but first you’d have to meet her parents. Well? What time are you taking me over there to meet her parents?”
He closed his eyes in an attempt to get his sludge brain to re-form into something solid enough to process thoughts. “Oh. Right,” he said. “You called me yesterday and asked, and I did say that.”
“Exactly. So?”
“So what?”
“I’m trying to make plans here, Dad! You’re slowing my roll. Big Time. Capital B. Capital T.”
Shepherd scratched his forehead. “Yeah. OK. I’m probably …” He tried to remember where Ginny’s family home was even located in South Florida in relation to Laguna Key. “Um. An hour away?”
“Oh, so you’ll be here in an hour? Great, I’ll call Chloe and—”
“No, no, no. I … I’m with Ginny.”
“Really?” Her voice took on a sing-song quality. “Tell Ginny I said hiiiiii. Say it just like that. Say it. Say it!”
“Lex says hi,” Shepherd said over his shoulder.
“That is not what I said!”
“Hi, Lex,” Ginny mumbled into Shepherd’s back. Her lips tickled his skin. And did other things to other parts.
“Listen, Lex. Let me have some coffee, OK? I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
She sighed with so much force he could practically feel it through his phone. “Fine.”
“Love you.”
She hung up.
Shepherd stared at his phone, willing her to come back.
Without that excuse, he’d have to face the woman curled up behind him.
Into him. Holding him. What was he thinking?
To be fair, it was a different head that had been doing the thinking last night.
But still. She was his employee. She told him she’d never date him.
Over and over again. And now she was his fake fiancée looking for real comfort, and he’d taken advantage of that.
The disgusting truth was he’d do it again.
As often as she offered, he’d take it. That thought made his sludge brain drip down the back of his throat and settle, drop by drop, heavily in his stomach. But it was the truth.
He sighed and put his phone down. “I really need coffee.”
“There should be some brewing downstairs.” Ginny yawned, her arm tightening around him in a hug before letting go. “You can go to the kitchen and get a cup.”
“Without you as a human shield?” Shepherd sat up, his feet on the cold tiles. His clothes were … somewhere. The bathroom, probably. “You’re crazy.”
Ginny giggled, and he looked at her for the first time that morning.
She was a sight to behold. Her long hair was a riot of red across the center of the pillow, the rest of her covered only by a thin sheet.
She smiled at him, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she struggled to open her heavy-lidded eyes.
“I’ll go with you, you big baby. Just let me make myself presentable. ”
Shepherd shuffled his way into the bathroom in search of his clothes. His pants were soggy due to bathtub overflow, and his shirt had some blood on it that he hadn’t noticed before. From Mr. Martin or the meth biker? He’d never know, because he was going to burn that shirt.
Ginny came in behind him, looking resplendent in absolutely nothing. “Do you want me to grab some clothes from my dad that you could borrow?”
He sighed, his soggy pants sagging in his hands. “Un---fortunately, yes.”
Shepherd was dressed in borrowed clothes well before Ginny was finished getting ready. He wore dark shorts that felt expensive and required a belt to stay up, and a simple white shirt that still had a tag on it.
It was, in literal fact, expensive.
Ginny wore a linen dress that looked more like an oversized shirt. She was putting makeup on in her private bathroom, her attention currently on her eyelashes. Shepherd watched with no little fascination. “I don’t get what the big deal is, anyway, Ginny. You don’t even need makeup.”
“I know I don’t need makeup. No one needs makeup. I just like it.”
“Your stepmom and step-grandma sure like makeup, too.”
Ginny blinked at her reflection. Her auburn lashes were longer and blacker than they had been that morning, and there was a sparkle on her cheekbones that lit up every time she moved. “Women wear makeup. News at eleven.”
Shepherd propped himself up by the elbow on her bed, in need of caffeine or he’d crash again. “They like Botox and hair dye, too, seems like. And nose jobs.”
She glared at him through the mirror. “What’s wrong with Botox and hair dye? And nose jobs?”
Shepherd sat up, staring at the mirror in confusion. “I mean, those women are mostly plastic at this point, Ginny. And you’re a natural beauty.”
Ginny huffed. She spun around to glare at him herself, fists on her hips.
“You think this nose is natural? My mom and I went in for mother-and-daughter nose jobs the day after I turned seventeen. And do you think it’s normal for a woman in her thirties not to have any lines on her forehead?
” She raised her eyebrows up slightly. Very slightly.
There were no lines on her forehead. “I’ve also gotten Botox shots along my jaw to make that sharper, and I’ll have you know I get my hair done by the best guy in Miami. So.”
Stunned for only a moment, Shepherd’s mouth angled into a grin. “So you’re mostly plastic too, eh? Guess that’s why you weren’t worried about latex last night.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Haha, so funny. I’m ready. You want coffee?”
“God,” he groaned, standing, “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
“Oh, that’s what you said last night!”
“Haha, so funny.”