Houston’s voice turns deadly. “You got five seconds before I hang up.”
I use four of those seconds to laugh. Then I sober up and get to the point of the call because that fucker really will hang up on me.
“I’m fake engaged to Shelby Sweet.”
There’s another silence. Then it’s his turn to laugh, and as much as I tease him, it really is good to hear he still knows how to laugh.
“Dude. Explain yourself. And don’t leave anything out.”
So, I do. I explain everything, and when I’m done, he just sighs. “Well, you did the right thing by protecting her from that asshole, but damn, Dallas. You’re cooked.”
I guffaw. “No, I’m not.”
There’s humor in his voice when he responds. “You’re so cooked you don’t even know you’re cooked. That’s how fucking cooked you are.”
Then he hangs up.
And here I thoughtwomenwere confusing.
Chapter
Nine
TEN POUNDS OF CRAZY IN A FIVE-POUND SACK
Shelby
“Did you know your sister has two new rescue swine?” I hang my bags on the back of one of Dallas’s kitchen stools and raise my voice. I stopped on the way home to pick up some fresh blueberries and a couple cute blueberry dish towels. It’s National Blueberry Month after all, and if I’m staying here, I’ve gotta bring the Shelby touch.
“Yup. Saw ’em rolling around in the mud when I was mucking stalls,” he calls back from upstairs. Must be supervising Ryder’s shower. I look at my watch and see it’s already seven.
Dallas’s house sits on ranch property, close enough to the main house that it’s convenient but far enough away that nobody is going to walk in on him cranking his hog, as he puts it. (You won’t easily find a classier fellow than Dallas Gamble.) But it means you drive past the barns and outbuildings on the way here.
I toe off my sandals. My work boots never leave the back of my truck, seeing as I’m not a person who enjoys horse poop in my living space. “Did she tell you their names?” I pad to thebottom of the stairs, noticing that the mess I cleaned up in the living room before work is already back.
It’s been a few days since the scene at Knockin’ Boots, and our engagement story has made the rounds all over town. As has the way we apparently attacked each other on the dance floor. But if I thought things would be awkward after that, Dallas’s behavior hasn’t changed one bit, so I’m following his lead and pretending it never happened.
Secretly, though, that impromptu make-out session has been using up way too much of my brain capacity. Of course, I knew Dallas was both experienced and naturally sexy, but holy hormones! When his tongue pushed past my shocked lips, several long-dormant places in my body lit on fire—and even a few I didn’t know had nerve endings. The soles of my feet in my favorite boots even tingled while my toes curled up tight. My breasts literally heaved like a cartoon character’s. I’ve never been kissed like that in my entire life. There was nothing choreographed or calculated. It was just pure animal instinct. I was ready to jump him and ride him like I stole him.
“Do I want to know?” Dallas calls back from upstairs. “She’s incapable of using a normal name like Porky.”
I grin. “I promise you do.”
“Okay, lay it on me.”
“Tammy Swinenette and Snoop Hogg!” I snicker as big and little Gamble appear on the staircase, Ryder in Spiderman pjs and Dallas in another of his T-shirts paired with jeans and bare feet.
“Pigs are really good swimmers. Did you know that?” Ryder asks as he skips the last step and jumps onto the wood floor.
“Too bad we don’t have a pool to test that theory,” Dallas says.
Ryder pivots as only an eight-year-old boy can. “We could put them on the trampoline.”
“Sorry. I have to work that day.” I turn and head for the fridge, my stomach grumbling as I open the door. “Oh my god. Is that salsa from Eduardo’s?” I spin around to face Dallas again. He’s leaning on the raised countertop, eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah. I had to run to Hornville today, so I picked some up.” I could kiss the man. Oh, wait, I already did.
As if I have to remind myself.
