After feeding Cersei, I change into my swimsuit and head to the pool. Perched on an inflatable chair with a drink in the drink holder, sunglasses on, I smile at Shep when he emerges from the house with his bruised ego. I’d say it’s not an attractive sight, but I’d be lying. Shirtless Shep is always an attractive sight.
“I think we should finish off that charcuterie board for lunch. Shower. Go shopping. And grab dinner at a nice restaurant. My treat.” I flash him a huge grin.
“Is that your prize? Making the plans for the rest of the day?” He dives into the pool.
I flinch as water showers on me.
He breaks through the surface just inches from me, shaking his head like a dog.
I turn away even though my glasses are already a mess. “No.” I take a sip of my drink. “It’s not my prize. It’s a suggestion. You can make a counteroffer.”
“No. I accept your offer. Minus the shopping. I’m not much of a shopper.”
“My friends shop with me.”
He frowns. “What are you looking for?”
I shrug. “Nothing. Just browsing.”
His face sours. “Gah … you were the perfect friend. You have a dog with a cool name. You’re sexy as fuck. You wear the most stylish clothes and always wear a different pair of glasses. You golf. And you swim naked in my pool early in the morning. You were perfection, Sophie. Until … you suggested a shopping trip and used the word browse.” He rests his arms on the side of my floating chair, head bowed on them in defeat. “Why’d you have to ruin it?”
I lift a hand to his head and thread my fingers through his hair, something I’ve been dying to do since the day we met. “Fine. Shopping will be my prize for winning today.”
He grumbles and lifts his head. “Fine.”
Following lunch and showers, we go shopping. Shep drags his ass behind me like a dog learning to walk nicely on a leash. After an hour of browsing without making a single purchase (which drives him insane), we find a nice restaurant. We’re seated at a table outside with string lights above us and the perfect view of the sunset.
“Thank you for going shopping with me today,” I say, resting the cloth napkin on my lap.
He glances up from his menu, unable to fully conceal his scowl. “You earned it.”
“I did. Didn’t I?” I let my grin outshine the shadow of his scowl.
It only takes a few seconds for his lips to fight their own smile.
We order appetizers, drinks, and main dishes to share. Shep continues to wordlessly grapple with his loss today—forced smiles, limited eye contact. A bruised male ego might be more incurable than cancer. I won’t apologize for being the better golfer. Nor will I apologize for the hour I dragged him in and out of stores.
Friends know that being together is all that matters. Sometimes I go to my least favorite Italian restaurant with Jules because it happens to be her favorite. Sometimes she goes to foreign films with me even though she hates subtitles. That’s what friends do.
“Do you have a hard time drinking beer at restaurants since you brew your own?”
He shrugs, chewing his food for a few moments. “Not really. I said I brew things. I didn’t say I was good at it.”
I giggle. I’m not good at crocheting either. “It’s been a good weekend. Thank you for inviting me. Even if you never invite me again.”
“You’re welcome.” Shep pauses his fork at his lips and smiles.
“And?”
He swallows. “And what?”
“You’re supposed to say how much you’ve enjoyed our weekend together. And then you’re supposed to say you’ll definitely invite me again.”
“You want me to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed getting my ass handed to me on the golf course? You want me to tell you how much fun I’ve had shopping? Then you want me to tell you that I want to do it again?”
“Well, when you put it that way …”
The waiter leaves the check. I reach for it, but Shep beats me to it.
“I said my treat.”
“I know what you said.” He retrieves cash, a lot of cash, from his pocket.
It’s probably an entire week’s pay.
“Shep, I wouldn’t have picked this restaurant if I had known you were going to insist on paying. Now I feel bad.”
“You should. I’ve been taken to the cleaners by you today. You should definitely feel bad.”
I recoil as he hands the waiter the cash and tells him to keep the change. Shep grabs the bag with our leftovers in it, and we make our way through the restaurant to the car.
He opens my door, but I don’t know why at this point. After I fasten my seat belt, he hands me the bag to set on my lap.
“Any other stops before we head back to the house?” he asks when he gets in the car.