“No.” I choke on my lemonade and clear my throat several times. “That’s not what friends are for.”
Shep rubs his chin, scratching his scruffy jaw while inspecting me. Amusement clings to his full lips. In equal parts, I want to strangle him and kiss him. This new acquaintance—friend—of mine is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I think in a good way, but honestly, I’m not sure.
“You could murder me, and no one would know where to look,” I say.
His eyes narrow for a few seconds. “Interesting. Tell me more.”
“I told the people I work with that I needed the weekend off for personal reasons. I’m the boss, so no one questioned me. I think they suspected issues with my ex. My best friend is in Vegas this weekend for a wedding, so I didn’t bother to tell her where I was going. My mom is still upset about me not attending her cat’s funeral, so she doesn’t know. And I only talk with my dad every month or two, so he doesn’t know either. My sister … well, she’d totally lose it. I irresponsibly, recklessly left town with complete abandonment to stay with a guy I’ve known for less than a month.”
“Why would your sister lose it?”
Averting my gaze to a couple walking into the clubhouse, I shrug while thinking about the embryo inside of me. “She’s just a lot more cautious than I am.”
Shep leans back and rests his hand on the table, softly drumming his fingers. “I’ll think about it. The murder. I wasn’t planning on it, and I’ve never done it before. But now that you’ve offered it as an option, I feel obligated to at least consider it. And I’m always game to try new things.”
My grin remains restrained for a moment. “Sure. Take your time. Just let me know what you decide. Or … don’t. I suppose a good homicide requires a certain element of surprise.”
He smirks. “I’d imagine so. But again, I’ve never done it, so I can’t speak from firsthand experience. I would have researched this a bit had I known ahead of time. I guess my head is spinning right now because we somehow jumped from me offering you my cock to you offering to let me murder you. I think…” he rubs the back of his neck “…a lot has changed since the last time I dated—I mean—made a new friend.”
Shep glances over my shoulder and sits up straight. “Shit. Be cool. There’s a couple headed our way. They’re going to try to engage us in conversation. Don’t do it. Don’t say a word. Just let me handle it. Okay?” Shep sounds so serious.
I stiffen, anticipating their approach.
“Hey, how are you?” a man’s voice booms behind me.
Shep plasters on a fake smile. “Hey. Good. Thanks.”
The middle-aged gentleman and his wife stop at our table.
“Great day,” she says.
I smile. Shep nods.
“I’m Tony and this is my wife, Deb.” He holds out his hand to me.
“Hi. I’m Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”
Shep kicks my foot under the table. I shoot him a quick scowl. Really, what was I supposed to do? Ignore them?
“Tony was just saying it’s been a long time since we’ve seen Shep.” Deb rests her hand on Tony’s arm.
“Yeah. We saw your parents last month, and I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I saw you. It’s been a while. How the heck have you been?” Tony asks.
“Been good. Thanks. Hope you enjoy the rest of the day. It was good to see you.”
I pull my lips tight, amused by Shep’s attempt to dismiss them as quickly as possible.
“Yeah … we just finished our round for the day. We’ll be back early in the morning.” Tony widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest like he’s settling in for more conversation. Nothing about his posture says he’s leaving any time soon. “Gonna throw some steaks on the grill tonight. Deb’s making some salsa. She’s been growing upside-down tomatoes like it’s nobody’s business. Got ’em coming out our ears. We should drop some off for you. You like tomatoes, Sophie?”
“Yes. I love—” I grunt and scowl at Shep when he kicks me again.
“We’re only here until Sunday, and the fridge is stocked with more food than we’ll be able to eat. But thanks anyway. Enjoy your steaks. It’s been good talking to you.” A stiff smile remains cemented to Shep’s face.
“I love your glasses.” Deb nods to my glasses.
They’re basic red frames today.
As I open my mouth to thank her, Shep scoots back in his chair. “Speaking of twenty-twenty vision … would you look at the time? We need to let Cersei out.”
“Cersei? As in … Game of Thrones?” Deb asks.
I nod, biting back my urge to also say Cersei is my dog.
“Oh lord … Deb and I have watched that series three times. Can you believe it? It’s almost embarrassing, like we don’t have a life or something.”