I hate the note of doubt creeping into her tone. “It’s just stuff, Shelby.”
“He’s one dude,” Jiggy adds. “How does he even enjoy all this?”
“Not our business,” I say. “I just appreciate him offering up the space to Shelby.”
In the mirror, I catch Jiggy’s side-eye.
Finally, the house that Dawson described comes into view. A modern gray fairy-tale cottage with a wrap-around porch and huge windows overlooking the picturesque mountains and waterfalls. It blends into the scenery and matches the main house. I pull the truck into the driveway.
We unload Shelby’s stuff, carrying it into the cottage.
“Damn.” Jigsaw whistles, staring up at the fourteen-foot ceilings. “This is the guest house?”
“Lordy,” Shelby mutters. I take her hand and lead her through the place until we find one of the master bedrooms. “My whole house could fit in this room.” She spins in a slow circle, taking in the balcony overlooking the mountains, the sitting area with its own sofa and television, and the walk-in closet.
Finally, she discovers the bathroom with a long vanity and huge soaking tub. “I don’t think I’ll have to leave this room. I can sit out on that balcony and get plenty of writing done.”
“That’s why you’re here.” I kiss the crown of her head. “No distractions. No worries.”
“Oh good, you’re still vertical,” Jiggy says from the doorway. “I think Dawson’s on his way over.”
“How do you know?” Shelby asks.
“There’s a monitor downstairs.”
I check my phone and find a text from Dawson. “He just wants to show you around.”
She hurries downstairs but Jiggy stops me from following. “You sure you’re all right leaving her here?”
It doesn’t take a genius to understand what he’s worried about but I ask anyway. “What’s your issue?”
“This is heady stuff for a girl who grew up piss-poor.” He glances toward the door. “You know I love Shelby, but—”
Now he’s just pissing me off. “You don’t know dick about her.”
“And you’re sure you do?” He drops his gaze to the floor. “I’m not trying to be an asshole here.”
“And yet, you’re nailing it. She’s not as impressed by this as much as she’s intimidated by it.” I swallow hard, thinking of how to phrase what I know deep down is true. “And probably a little repulsed by the excess of wealth. She’s planning to donate all that money Suggs left her for fuck’s sake.”
“How’s that relevant?” he asks.
“It’s who she is.”
I study the room and the views more carefully. I love spoiling my girl. And I can give Shelby a lot of material things. But this is way, way beyond my means.
“She’s just as, if not more, talented than Dawson,” I say, speaking from the heart.
Spending time on the road with both of them has made me keenly aware of this fact. All Shelby needs now is more exposure and a bit of luck. She already has the talent. “If this is what she wants, it’s possible for her to gain on her own.”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “But still—”
I’m coming dangerously close to punching Jiggy for suggesting what I think he’s suggesting. “If she’s so dazzled by Dawson’s money that she leaves me for him, then she’s not the woman I thought she was anyway.”
And it’s better we part now.
Chapter Forty
Shelby
“You ready for your first session?” Rooster asks the next morning over breakfast.
“I think so.” I set my fork down. “Honestly, I’m kind of nervous to work with Dawson. What if he thinks I’m a foolish newbie?”
He points a corner of toast at me. “The only thing foolish about you is those words coming out of your mouth. All he has on you is age, experience, and money.”
I snort into my orange juice. “You say that like they’re insignificant things.”
“Not insignificant. Just not all there is to the business.”
I munch on my bacon, considering his words. “You sure Jiggy isn’t mad at me?”
He sighs and sets down his coffee. “Not at all. This stuff makes him uncomfortable.” He waves his hand toward the fancy high-end kitchen, but I think Rooster’s referring to more than just the luxurious surroundings. “Plus, I think he wanted to give us alone time.”
“Will he be okay in Deadbranch by himself?”
He smirks. “If he doesn’t run his mouth too much.”
My phone beeps and I check it. A text from Trent.
“His mom’s still in the hospital,” I explain after reading it. “He’s gonna send me the stuff he has and we’ll try to work some of it out online together. Dammit.” I chew on my thumbnail. It’s not like Trent did this on purpose. It’s just as out of his control as it is mine.
“It might not be bad to try something new,” Rooster suggests.
“You don’t understand.”
“I know I don’t. But try not to stress about a situation you have no control over.”
My lips curve. “I was sort of thinking the same thing.”