Start Me Up (Man of the Month 4)

Celia jerked her back. "I said don't look!"

"Oh, right," Shelby said, but she felt her cheeks go pink, because she'd gotten enough of a glimpse to know that the cute guy with the short dark hair and pale gray eyes really was looking her direction. "He's not looking at me," Shel protested.

"Please, girlfriend," Hannah said, scooting closer, "he totally is. And why wouldn't he? You look hot. The outfit is amazing. And so is your hair and make-up, if I do say so myself."

Hannah live

d in one of the many downtown condos that had popped up in Austin over the last decade. Instead of going straight for The Fix after Forbidden Fruit, she'd insisted on a quick pit stop, during which Hannah had changed out of her short skirt and into skintight jeans and a backless silk halter. After that, she'd touched up Shelby's make-up and then worked a little magic on her hair. "We may be ten minutes late," she'd said. "But we'll make one hell of an entrance."

Before, Shel had pinned her hair up so that a few tendrils framed her face. She'd been pleased with the effect and had thought that Hannah had approved.

"It's great," Hannah had assured her as she'd yanked out the pins and fired up her curling iron. "But this will be better."

And it was. She'd pulled down Shelby's shoulder-length dark hair, then proceeded to curl each and every strand with a large diameter curling iron. The result being a mass of curls that framed her face and bounced when she walked.

"Even your glasses look great," Hannah had added, tilting her head as she examined Shelby critically. "The aqua color's really fun, and it brings out the blue in your eyes." Shelby's eyes were hazel, and tended to pick up the color of whatever she was wearing.

Now, in The Fix, Hannah looked her over once again with approval. "I think it's the glasses coupled with that killer outfit that caught his eye. You're welcome, by the way. It gives you a studious minx look."

"You realize you sound like you're casting a porn video, right?" Shelby protested, making all the girls at the table laugh.

"Whatever," Celia said. "But Hannah's right. The point is that Mr. Hottie likes it. I mean, did you see the way he was watching you earlier? Like he could totally eat you up."

Shelby's face flushed warm. "That's because you tossed me that stupid vibrator. He looked over at us right as I caught the thing." She'd been holding the purple device in both hands, and she'd glanced up to see Mr. Hottie's eyes locked on her. Pale gray and deep set, with the kind of long lashes some women paid a lot of money for. Bedroom eyes, Shelby thought, then quickly banished the ridiculous thought.

She remembered the way the corner of his mouth had quirked up as he'd watched her--not to mention the corresponding tug she'd felt deep inside. She'd looked away, then, suddenly shaky and dry-mouthed and unsure.

"He was laughing at me," she said, "not lusting for me." But the protest sounded false even to her own ears. There'd been a definite zing between them. But that didn't mean Shel was going to do anything about it. And even if she was inclined to pull on that thread, she honestly didn't know what to do or how to do it.

"Well, he's not laughing now," Celia said. "That's some serious lust in those eyes."

"You should go talk to him," Hannah said.

A shock of terror cut straight through Shelby. "Are you insane?"

"Hannah's right," Celia said. "You should."

Shelby tried to shake her head, but it came off as more of a trembling chin wiggle. "No way. Really. No. Freaking. Way."

"Oh, come on, Shelby. He's obviously interested." Hannah nudged her shoulder. "I'll go with you if you want. He's by the bar. We could go order a drink. Strike up a conversation."

"A drink? Another drink and I'll float away. In fact, I need the ladies' room." The combination of alcohol and nerves actually made the need rather urgent, and her stomach began to roil. "Oh, God," she said, clapping her hand over her mouth as she stood and stumbled toward the back of the bar.

"Oh, hell," she heard Hannah say, followed by the scrape of a chair. Then her friend was at her side, and they were hurrying to the restroom, and Shelby was fighting the ridiculous urge to laugh, because this never happened to her. And as mortifying as the whole thing was, she was really and truly having one heck of a good time.

They reached the restroom, and Shelby pushed the door. It was lighter than she expected, and it slammed in, banging against the back wall and making Shelby jump and someone inside the bathroom yelp. She caught Hannah's eye, and they both started laughing like loons.

"Come on," Hannah said, hooking an arm around Shelby's waist and leading her inside. Shelby stumbled, then looked up at Hannah as her head swam. "The floor is moving," she announced, suddenly realizing how much she'd had to drink. She hadn't felt it when she'd been sitting down. But now that she was up and moving ... whoa, Nellie.

She drew in a breath, but the extra oxygen didn't help much. She lifted her head, stared down all four of Hannah's eyes, and said as slowly and clearly as she could manage, "I totally blame you."

From across the small room, she heard a little gasp, followed by, "Shelby?"

Shelby blinked, then tried to focus on the pretty blonde standing by the sink. It took a second, and then it hit her, and Shelby grinned so wide it almost hurt. "Brooke Hamlin!" She stumbled toward the other woman, then threw her arms out and engulfed her in a hug.

Shelby had worked on the Hamlin family's taxes since before she took the CPA exam. Technically, her former boss was Judge Hamlin's accountant, but Shel had done the heavy lifting and had met everyone in the family on more than one occasion.

In fact, she and Brooke were close to the same age and had met for lunch once or twice after tax season was over.