What Lovers Do(25)

Snorting a laugh, I press my lips together and glance out the window.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Is everything okay? My thoughts somehow jumble together, making a weird comparison between the sexy guy next to me and an injured garter snake from my childhood. That’s probably not normal or okay.

“Everything is just fine.”

“I’m glad you said yes to this weekend.” He gives me a quick glance and that winning grin before slipping on his sunglasses and starting the car.

“You like having your ass handed to you on the golf course, huh?”

“Sophie, if you’re the one doling out the ass-kicking, I’m in. Anything to be with you.”

What?

No. No way. He’s not allowed to say those words. Those are illegal words. Shep clearly doesn’t have that many friends. His friendship skills suck. I’m trying to banter with him, but he’s hell-bent on reminding me that we have no lines and no rules. We’re free falling, and I can’t find the damn cord to deploy the chute, while he’s grinning as if he doesn’t care how we land or if we live to tell about it.

“You’re a good distraction,” I say. “You’re not dramatic like my girlfriends. And I could use an opportunity to regain my faith in men at this point in my life.”

“Well crap. That puts a lot of pressure on me … representing the entire male species. If I screw up, you’ll die alone.”

I laugh. “Exactly. So don’t screw up.”

Taking an exaggerated inhale, he blows it out just as slowly. “Doing my best.” He leans forward. “Music? Or do you want to entertain me with your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“Music. Definitely music.”

He hooks his phone up to a cassette adapter. It’s funny, but the car is old. What did I expect?

“Summer Days” by Martin Garrix plays and it brings an instant smile to my face. Shep has good taste in music. Shep has sexy taste in music. It’s the perfect song for a sunny day in a Mustang.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





“You can have the master bedroom here on the main level.” Shep leads me to the bedroom with wood floors and a huge area rug under the king bed. On one side, a private balcony overlooks the pool. The other side opens to a spacious en suite bathroom with a soaker tub and walk-in shower. His parents’ house is breathtaking.

All I can think is … this is so weird. What am I doing here with the guy from the pet store?

The gated entry. The panoramic view of the glowing red rocks.

The infinity pool and hot tub.

I’m in awe.

“It’s your family’s house. You take this room. I’ll stay in another room. A guest room.”

“Too late.” He sets my suitcase at the end of the bed. “I’ve already laid claim to the bedroom downstairs.”

“But…” I nod toward the door “…there’s another bedroom here on the main floor.”

“Yes. But I want to make you feel as comfortable as possible. Give you as much space and privacy as you need. So I’ll be downstairs. Cersei can have the other bedroom up here.”

“Shep …”

“Get settled. We have a tee time in an hour.” He disappears down the stairs with his bag.

I stare … and stare at the view. Then I plop back on the bed and gaze at the ceiling fan. I can’t believe I’m here. With him.

A few minutes later, Shep emerges from the basement in black shorts and a white golf polo. I’ve changed into a black skort and a white sleeveless polo.

“Wow … we match,” I say, trying to hide my amusement while eyeing him. “I can change. I packed another option.”

“You don’t want to match with me?” He fiddles with the buttons to his polo and adjusts the collar.

“No. I mean … it’s fine with me if it’s fine with you. My shirt’s wrinkled, so … whatever.” That’s my comeback. Brilliant. “Got any food in the fridge?”

“Yeah. You hungry? I guess I should have planned for lunch before golf.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’m a snacker. That’s all.” I’m not a snacker. I can skip a meal and not feel hungry. But I’ve read I need to eat small meals and frequent snacks to keep any possible nausea at bay. So far, I haven’t felt anything except some slight tenderness in my breasts.

“Fruit? Meat? Cheese?”

“Sure.”

He chuckles. “A buffet it is.” I take the food from him as he pulls out several trays from the fridge.

“Looks like someone planned for a party. All this food on trays.”

“No. My mom knew I was bringing Howie, so she made sure to leave food. If it were just me, I think she’d let me starve.”

“Howie? The toddler?”

He grins and nods. “Does he know about me? Did you talk about me the day I called you?”

“I may have given him some details about you,” he mumbles.

“What details?” I dig into the food.

“He knows we’re friends. He’s happy that I have a … friend.”

I narrow my eyes.

“He and his wife were friends with me and Millie. I don’t get to see him as often because we no longer do things as couples.”