He bends down and scratches Cersei behind her ears. “Had I known you were bringing her, I would have requested Julia and George for the weekend. Not that Millie would have agreed, but it would have been worth a try.”
“Millie? Your ex-wife’s name is Millie?” I usher him and Cersei toward the door and set the alarm behind us.
“Yes.”
“Interesting. I had it different in my head. I imagined an Emma or Scarlet. Maybe a Gwen or Abigail.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He laughs as we make our way toward a red Shelby Mustang.
“I love your car.”
“It’s my dad’s car, but thanks.”
After we load my stuff, Shep slides into the driver’s seat, and suddenly I feel suffocated by his nearness—all the things money can’t buy like his wayward hair. The sharp angles of his face. That ornery smile. I swear he always looks as if he’s winning at something or hiding a secret. So maybe he works at a pet shop and drives his dad’s car, and maybe that should be a concern since I’m a magnet for men in financial “situations,” but it’s not. We’re friends. That’s it.
Is he hiding something from me? I hope so. I hope he’s hiding a secret. Or ten. As of recently, I’ve decided I’m in the camp that doesn’t believe lack of transparency is the same as a lie. Self-preservation has its place in the world. It’s a pillar of individuality.
I’m so full of shit.
Nonetheless, I lean my head back and take a deep breath; it’s a Shep World weekend.
Speaking of … Shep smells clean, not like a body that’s been stuck to a leather sofa for weeks, emitting a toxic mix of sweat, oil, and farts. Inhaling Shep takes me on an evening drive from the redwoods of California to the coastal highway. He’s crisp and refreshing. Alluring and a little reckless. I’m afraid if my dad nicked him with a weed eater, I’d rush him into the house, screaming and crying fat tears. I’d make him a bed of newspapers, give him a water dish, and stock up on worms and guppies.
Snorting a laugh, I press my lips together and glance out the window.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
Is everything okay? My thoughts somehow jumble together, making a weird comparison between the sexy guy next to me and an injured garter snake from my childhood. That’s probably not normal or okay.
“Everything is just fine.”
“I’m glad you said yes to this weekend.” He gives me a quick glance and that winning grin before slipping on his sunglasses and starting the car.
“You like having your ass handed to you on the golf course, huh?”
“Sophie, if you’re the one doling out the ass-kicking, I’m in. Anything to be with you.”
What?
No. No way. He’s not allowed to say those words. Those are illegal words. Shep clearly doesn’t have that many friends. His friendship skills suck. I’m trying to banter with him, but he’s hell-bent on reminding me that we have no lines and no rules. We’re free falling, and I can’t find the damn cord to deploy the chute, while he’s grinning as if he doesn’t care how we land or if we live to tell about it.
“You’re a good distraction,” I say. “You’re not dramatic like my girlfriends. And I could use an opportunity to regain my faith in men at this point in my life.”
“Well crap. That puts a lot of pressure on me … representing the entire male species. If I screw up, you’ll die alone.”
I laugh. “Exactly. So don’t screw up.”
Taking an exaggerated inhale, he blows it out just as slowly. “Doing my best.” He leans forward. “Music? Or do you want to entertain me with your deepest, darkest secrets?”
“Music. Definitely music.”
He hooks his phone up to a cassette adapter. It’s funny, but the car is old. What did I expect?
“Summer Days” by Martin Garrix plays and it brings an instant smile to my face. Shep has good taste in music. Shep has sexy taste in music. It’s the perfect song for a sunny day in a Mustang.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You can have the master bedroom here on the main level.” Shep leads me to the bedroom with wood floors and a huge area rug under the king bed. On one side, a private balcony overlooks the pool. The other side opens to a spacious en suite bathroom with a soaker tub and walk-in shower. His parents’ house is breathtaking.
All I can think is … this is so weird. What am I doing here with the guy from the pet store?
The gated entry. The panoramic view of the glowing red rocks.
The infinity pool and hot tub.
I’m in awe.
“It’s your family’s house. You take this room. I’ll stay in another room. A guest room.”
“Too late.” He sets my suitcase at the end of the bed. “I’ve already laid claim to the bedroom downstairs.”