What Lovers Do(28)

Shep plasters on a fake smile. “Hey. Good. Thanks.”

The middle-aged gentleman and his wife stop at our table.

“Great day,” she says.

I smile. Shep nods.

“I’m Tony and this is my wife, Deb.” He holds out his hand to me.

“Hi. I’m Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”

Shep kicks my foot under the table. I shoot him a quick scowl. Really, what was I supposed to do? Ignore them?

“Tony was just saying it’s been a long time since we’ve seen Shep.” Deb rests her hand on Tony’s arm.

“Yeah. We saw your parents last month, and I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I saw you. It’s been a while. How the heck have you been?” Tony asks.

“Been good. Thanks. Hope you enjoy the rest of the day. It was good to see you.”

I pull my lips tight, amused by Shep’s attempt to dismiss them as quickly as possible.

“Yeah … we just finished our round for the day. We’ll be back early in the morning.” Tony widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest like he’s settling in for more conversation. Nothing about his posture says he’s leaving any time soon. “Gonna throw some steaks on the grill tonight. Deb’s making some salsa. She’s been growing upside-down tomatoes like it’s nobody’s business. Got ’em coming out our ears. We should drop some off for you. You like tomatoes, Sophie?”

“Yes. I love—” I grunt and scowl at Shep when he kicks me again.

“We’re only here until Sunday, and the fridge is stocked with more food than we’ll be able to eat. But thanks anyway. Enjoy your steaks. It’s been good talking to you.” A stiff smile remains cemented to Shep’s face.

“I love your glasses.” Deb nods to my glasses.

They’re basic red frames today.

As I open my mouth to thank her, Shep scoots back in his chair. “Speaking of twenty-twenty vision … would you look at the time? We need to let Cersei out.”

“Cersei? As in … Game of Thrones?” Deb asks.

I nod, biting back my urge to also say Cersei is my dog.

“Oh lord … Deb and I have watched that series three times. Can you believe it? It’s almost embarrassing, like we don’t have a life or something.”

Shep’s brows slowly lift as his lips curl inward. This time I kick him under the table. He’s being a bit too obvious.

“You know what’s another good show to binge watch?” Deb asks.

Then she tells us about every show we need to watch—covering Hulu, Netflix, HBO, Showtime, and other streaming services I’ve never heard of before now. One of the shows has a main character who is transgender, which leads into Deb and Tony expressing their concern for their granddaughter who recently revealed that she’s transgender. We learn the names of all of her transgender friends and their new transgender names and how confusing that is for family and friends to keep track of new names and proper pronouns. On the heels of that admission, they go into great detail about their upbringing and how woke they are now—totally supportive of the LGBTQ community (although they miss a few letters)—Tony says, “The LB whatever etcetera etcetera people,” and I cringe wondering if anyone else hears him.

It’s not that he’s meaning to be disrespectful; he’d just be better off not saying anything at all than saying it all wrong, even if it’s an accident. My “squatter” comment doesn’t seem as bad now. While I notice my own smile feeling stiff and beginning to crack, I glance at Shep and he’s wearing the same cringe-worthy expression.

They just won’t shut up.

“Oh. Excuse me.” I interrupt and bring my phone to my ear.

Deb stops talking for a few seconds.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry. Let me get where I can talk in private,” I say to my phone and the imaginary person who I’m talking to. “Shep. We have to go. It’s an emergency.” I don’t know why, but I jump to my feet and grab his hand, pulling him to stand. “So sorry,” I mouth to Deb and Tony.

“Take care,” Shep says as I lead him to the door and straight toward the Mustang, keeping ahold of his hand the whole time.

“Before I sound like an insensitive ass by thanking you for getting us out of that torturous situation, can you confirm that you just took a fake call and there is no real emergency?”

I laugh. It’s all I can do as I start to release his hand when we get to the car.

His grip tightens as he stops, turning me toward him. Nothing … he says nothing which feels intimate because he’s holding my hand and we’re really close.

That sly grin of his makes an appearance two seconds before he speaks. “This was a good idea.”

In lieu of speaking, I return several lightning quick nods that don’t require breathing. When he appears satisfied with my level of discomfort, he releases my hand and opens the car door for me.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





It’s a fifteen-minute drive to his parents’ house, and I can’t find anything to say, but neither can he until we walk in the front door.

“I’ll grab a quick shower and put something on the grill.”

“I’ll be in the pool,” I say, hustling to the bathroom to put some distance between us while my thoughts untangle from his … Gah! His everything. It’s not okay for friends to have inappropriate thoughts about each other, yet here I am, my mind in the gutter.