Based on past experience, Dallas will be back to his happy-go-lucky, mischievous self tomorrow, and life will move on as it always does. I’ll lick my wounds from another dating disaster for a couple weeks, and Dallas will forget about his misguided mission to “avenge” me for my own shitty taste in men. We’ll meet for BLTs at Butter My Biscuit Diner and laugh about Morgan’s baking fails. We’ll hike down to Beaver Hollow Falls to watch the blue herons that gather there this time of year, and he’ll fish while I read a book on a blanket in the grass. Everything will be the same as it’s always been.
“Oh, shit,” Morgan mutters from behind me.
“What?” Frankie asks as I turn to see Morgan staring wide-eyed down at her phone.
Her gaze lifts to meet mine, and I don’t like her panicked expression one bit. “Norinne Kuntz just texted that Shane left Knockin’ Boots drunk and saying he’s on his way to your place, Shelby. She doesn’t have your number and wanted me to warn you.”
My heart drops to the bottom of my gut as my butt hits the seat of one of the old oak dining chairs. Well, shit.
“He’s likely to be damn disappointed then since Shelby’ll be atmyplace,” Dallas practically growls from where he’s taking upthe entire entryway to the room, chest puffed out like a goddamn gorilla at the zoo.
“Now, son,” Pops interjects, hands extended in a placating gesture.
But he’s cut off by Meemaw as she ducks under one of Dallas’s beefy arms, brandishing two handfuls of brightly colored fireworks and proclaiming, “I’ve gotjust the thingfor your housewarming!”
Chapter
Three
SHE’S AS NERVOUS AS A LONG-TAILED CAT IN A ROOM FULL OF ROCKING CHAIRS
Dallas
“I don’t want any ice cream, Dallas.”
I shoot Shelby a look over Ryder’s head. He insisted on riding on the bench seat between us, which is probably a good thing based on the way Shelby’s got her arms crossed over her chest like a petulant child. She’s just mad I conned her into getting into my truck after supper while Frankie and Morgan schemed to drop her car off at my place in the morning—just to keep Shane from knowing where Shelby was.
“Since when does a woman not want ice cream after a breakup?” I drawl, to which Ryder snickers.
“Mom likes Rocky Road and that movie,War of the Roses, when she and Bowen have an argument,” Ryder adds helpfully. “Says it scares my bonus dad into an apology real quick.”
I can’t help but chuckle despite the tension in the truck. My ex isn’t wrong. It might surprise some people that I actually like and respect the woman I coparent with, but I do. Hallie is a good mom, a kind person, and absolutely not the woman for me. We figured out real quick we had physical chemistry and nothingelse. However, after the breakup, she peed on a stick and got two pink lines. We decided being friends and raising a child together was entirely possible. So far, we’ve done real good, if I do say so myself.
“Sure you don’t want some mint chocolate chip? My treat,” I sing-song, knowing it’s her favorite flavor.
Shelby opens her mouth but hesitates. Ha! Got her.
“Well, itisNational Ice Cream Day,” Shelby drawls slowly.
With a smirk, I swing the wheel toward Afternoon Delight, Big Knob’s one and only ice cream shop, and Ryder pumps his fist. I see Shelby fighting a smile out of the corner of my eye. She can never turn down a national holiday, no matter how small, just like her momma.
We find a parking space right outside the front door, order quickly, and are back in the truck, headed for Shelby’s place in a span of fifteen minutes. Hopefully our little detour not only gets Shelby in a better mood but also provides some time for Shane to stop by her house, see she’s not there, and head on home to sleep off his intoxication. I don’t want to have to bloody a man’s face in front of my kid, but I’ll do what I have to do to keep my best friend safe.
Shelby’s hands are twisting in her lap, her no-nonsense unpolished nails turning white as she grips them even harder the closer we get to her place. My gut takes a nosedive, seeing her this nervous. No woman should ever be fearful of her boyfriend. I may not be the world’s best boyfriend, nor have I experienced the trap—I mean, privilege—of being married, but I would never treat a woman like this asshole.
Thankfully, the coast is clear when we pull up to Shelby’s building on the edge of downtown Big Knob. Her vet clinic occupies the bottom floor while she lives in a bougie apartment above. The douchebag’s truck with the oversized exhaust pipes is nowhere to be seen on the street below.
Shelby and Ryder climb the stairs on the side of the building, and she unlocks her door. I command Nelly to stay in the truck bed and follow after. Ryder heads straight for the old PlayStation Shelby keeps on hand just for him. With ice cream all over his face and his attention redirected, I follow Shelby, only stopping short when I see an old picture of her and her parents on the wall in the hallway by her bedroom. There’s a crack right across the glass that wasn’t there the last time I came over.
“Did that fucker do this too?” I hiss, not wanting to alarm Ryder, but needing to know the extent of this guy’s issues.
Shelby freezes, her stiff shoulders acting like earmuffs. When she doesn’t respond or turn around, I have my answer. I clench so hard my jaw shoots pain across my skull like the fireworks Meemaw threw in the bed of my truck as we drove away from supper.
“You gonna follow me into the shower too, Dally?” Shelby snaps from the middle of her bedroom, finally spinning around and plopping a hand on her hip.
I like the attitude. It means the scared is fading away.
“I will if that’s what it takes to get you to come back home with me, Sweetness.” I lean against the doorway and try not to inhale too much of the perfumed scent of her bedroom. Shelby is all woman, evidenced by the pink and white floral bedspread, refurbished shabby chic furniture, and the girly touches everywhere the eye can land. It’s enough femininity to make a billy goat puke.
