“Why not?”
“Because it just so happens to be a blind date, and now that I have twenty-twenty vision, I’ve changed my mind!” I howl into Shep’s vexingly handsome face and hit pause on my emotional meltdown for one unholy moment just to soak in those dreamy blue eyes of his. My hand glides over his rock-hard chest without meaning to, and the thick scent of his minty cologne transports me.
Gah! I shake myself back to reality. Those arenotdreamy eyes. God, what a stupid word to begin with. There is not one dreamy thing about Shep Collins. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. If anything, he’s aschemer.
Wasn’t it Shepherd Collins who initiated a takedown of my better judgment when he suggested I hide everyone’s shoes during Lex’s beach birthday bash all those eons ago? Once everyone hit the water, I took Shep up on his silly advice and nearly walked home because of it. Nobody thought it was cute when they found out I hid their four-hundred dollar preppy loafers in a trash can just a few yards away from our motley jumble of towels. It was fancy footwear carnage, I tell you. And Shep had conveniently slipped away before the commotion, citing the fact he had to study for the LSAT or some bogus crap like that. Okay, so he studied and passed the LSAT. Color menotimpressed.
Everything about Shep spells out trouble. If anything, I feel sorry for the poor fools he’s entertaining in a court of law or in his bed. A brief vision of Shep pulling loose that silver tie of his as he hovers over me in a compromising position bounces through my mind.
“Come on.” He does his best to pry me off while ticking his head toward the entry. “You got to get back on that horse.” He grimaces. “You’re not really going to ride that horse, are you?”
“Are you kidding? That would be crazy stupid.”
He glares hard at the seething yellow blob at the door. “And that seems to be what you specialize in these days.”
I clear a slap over that perfectly sculpted, slightly stubbled cheek and feel the burn over my palm long after I’m through.
“Geez.” He taps his hand over the same spot I just gifted my affection. “What’d you do that for?” He sheds a quick glance to the door before doing a double take. “Oh no, no. This night is not allowed to get any worse.” He quickly grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around until we’ve switched positions. He ducks down a bit until he’s looking through my wild hair as if it were a hunting blind.
I turn back and spot a rather clueless peroxide strawberry blonde with big pouty lips and a funky white frilly dress with a wine stain over the left nipple. The night is young. That right nipple just might get lucky, too.
“Who is she, and why are you cowering? Is that your pimp?” I can’t help but laugh in his face, albeit short-lived. God forbid I attract the attention of the angry giraffe. I swear on all that is holy, I’m going to kill Harley for even mentioning the wordsdigital datingto me. My God, for an hour straight I thought she was talking about aSimsgame!
“I’m not cowering.” Shep straightens, shoulders back, that hardenedI’m a wannabe bad boylook suddenly stuck on his face. The muscles in his jaw flinch, and I can’t help but think he looks decidedly handsome. It’s only then I note he’s still neatly tucked in a crisp Italian suit. That silver tie is snug against his neck like a noose. Too bad he’s still Shep. But Lex is totally lucky. Axel and Shep are virtually twins. It’s funny, though. Each time I look at Shep, I never feel like I’m staring at a hijacked version of my brother-in-law. I still see Shep for who he is, an original asshole. I’m sure on a deep, cosmic level he appreciates that.
“Shit.” He flinches with disappointment as if he just lost money at the track. “She brought the new guy. I pretty much hate the new guy. Look at him. He’s uptight—like he just got caught smuggling gold in his rectum.”
A laugh gets caught in my throat as I turn to find that the lady in white and wine now has a plus one attached to her arm—a decent looking dude in a rather pedestrian suit.
“Huh, the dapper dude that lays the golden egg doesn’t look so bad. So she’s an ex, huh? I’m not sure what should have been my first clue. The fact you’re cowering, or her bad sense of style.” I frown as I steal a moment to debate this.
Baya pops in and waves over at me from behind the blonde bimbo, and along with her is Cassidy, the sweetest country girl you’d ever want to meet who helps out on occasion. They’re both cute perky blondes themselves, and they both have the bubbling personalities to match.
“I’d better get back to work before I get fired. I’ve got two-dozen brides who are pleasantly blitzed out of their mind, and I’m damn well going to use it to my financial advantage. Hey? Maybe I can convince Bee Boy that his date is currently outfitted with a tattered wedding dress?”
“If that doesn’t scare him off, you can always do that thing with your eyes.” His lips twitch, but he’s too stubborn to give a smile.
I know exactly what thing he’s talking about because I used to do that very thing to scarehimoff. It’s a forced lazy-eye trick I learned in biology as part of an experiment that tested our ocular muscles. One eye stays put while the other eye drifts to the side. It’s not that hard. It certainly does not take a talent as Shep used to enjoy pointing out.
“I was pretty good at it, wasn’t I?” I can’t help but smirk with pride.
“Are you kidding?” He inches forward as if he’s about to kiss me, and my stomach free-falls into oblivion. Stupid, stupid stomach. I’m hungry, that’s all.Hangryin fact. “You were gunning for Olympic gold. If this waitressing gig doesn’t work out, you can always go pro.”
“If it pays any better, I might consider it.” I ditch Shep for the brides gone wild section of the restaurant and am shocked to find half the table missing as a handful of women in white flit about the four corners of the Black Bear.
“What in the fresh carnation hell is going on?” I bleat to the head bride still staunchly glued to her seat. Her hair looks as if it’s been through the blender, and that tiny veil still sits crooked on her head. Dear Lord, her mascara is halfway down her face, and her lipstick has trekked over to her cheek. There are some nights when you just need to surrender and throw the towel in, hit the sheets, and hope for a better tomorrow, and I’m afraid that’s exactly where she is.
“Treasure hunt,” she growls the words out. “I found the prize.” She manufactures a hot pink rubber sex toy that has the power to make me scream at just one glance and not in a good way.
“Oh my goodness!” I hiss as I throw a wad of napkins over the deviant device. “This is a family restaurant. Tuck that pinky winky away in your bouquet or something.” Okay, the Black Bear is far off from a family establishment, but still. Who wants to ogle a dildo while you’re trying to bite into a hot dog?
“And who in their right mind gave you permission to hide all kinds of kink in the bar?” I’m betting the answer is no one.
She shakes her head as she guzzles down the rest of her Long Island Iced Tea. “I found it out back.” Her upper lip quivers when she says it. “Along with a human dildo.”
I bet she did.
I can’t help but glance to my sunny-side roid rage of a date still scanning the vicinity, hell-bent on making his scrambled dreams come true. There is truly no way I’m letting him take me to a second location. My gaze cuts to Shep, then to the bar where I fully expect to find Dirty Boy but don’t.
