Oscar laughed. “That one never gets old. See ya around, Ginny.”
“See ya,” Ginny grinned, still holding on to Shepherd. Hayley gave them each one last questioning, doubtful glance on her way out the door. The bell jingled as they disappeared into Perfection Avenue. Shepherd collapsed into the nearest chair.
“I forgot to bribe Lex.”
“Well”—Ginny kissed his cheek—“at least you remembered to lie to her.”
“I didn’t! I just forgot to tell her the truth.”
Ginny kissed his mouth. Soft and entirely too short. “Same thing.”
Noah groaned. “Get a room, you two! I’m trying to bus tables while drunk! Don’t make me puke!”
There weren’t many customers yet, in that strange period between lunch and dinner when the cruise-ship crowd was preparing to disembark and the other locals and tourists were picking which spots to be seen at on Perfection. But the few that were there—an older couple splitting exactly one slice of pizza, two moms in yoga clothes and their toddler children covered in pizza sauce, the three regulars drinking at the bar—were watching him and Ginny with obvious interest.
Shepherd felt his face heat, but he was too weary to care. He glanced up at Ginny, her blue eyes sparkling, a look that incited the same butterflies in his stomach he only ever got when the Panthers made the Stanley Cup finals—which happened more often than most people thought.
She arched an eyebrow and leaned down, mouth by his ear. “We could head upstairs.”
“Yeah?” Shepherd asked, his body already making the decision for him. He hadn’t stepped foot inside her upstairs apartment since she moved in and somehow cajoled him into hauling heavy boxes up the stairs. Probably because she was pretty and kind. Probably because she was smiling at him then the way she was now. The kind of smile that made a man help a stranger move or forced him to hire her as an employee, or made a man agree to pretend to be a fake boyfriend and then commit a real murder.
“I have to watch videos about parking motorcycles,” he said, his voice quiet like he was confessing something important.
She nodded, her smile still somehow both soft and bright. “I’ll watch them with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I liked watching you earlier. You look so cute on a motorcycle.”
He stood, but Ginny didn’t make room. She stayed in his space, her fingers gliding on his forearms. Shepherd reached out by instinct and held on to her waist. “I looked like an uncoordinated idiot.”
“Acuteuncoordinated idiot,” she corrected. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Mycute uncoordinated idiot.”
Shepherd sighed and accepted his fate. “Noah, you’re in charge of closing!”
“Duh! Get out of here, already! I’m dry-heaving as we speak!”
THIRTY-EIGHT
His stomach wanted to betray him in front of his fake girlfriend.
Shepherd refused to let that happen, locking himself in the bathroom and giving his reflection a stern glare.
When that failed, he ran the sink and coughed a lot and told her to just … just meet him downstairs, and they’d head over to the clubhouse soon. Everything was fine. Totally normal! Under control. And if she could maybe leave one more roll by the door? He’d appreciate it. Because this one was emptybeforehe ever got in the bathroom. Not because he’d used it all.
Ginny offered him coffee when he finally made it to the restaurant, but his stomach clenched again. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“I thought you might say that.” She went to the bar and opened the mini fridge, popped back up with an ice-cold ginger ale. “You want a crazy straw? Or a little umbrella?”
“I’m a grown man, Ginny.” He popped open the tab. “Of course I want the crazy straw.”
Ginny grabbed blue one, all twisty-turny, and gave it to him with a kiss on his cheek. “When this is all over, Shepherd. I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”
Because he was both an idiot and a glutton for punishment, he asked, “Make what up to me?”
“This is all so nuts. Or, as Lex would say, nutso butso.” She smiled, but it was sad smile. “And all for my mother, who I don’t even like.” She placed her palms flat on his chest and tucked herself in his arms. His twisty straw almost fell out of his can in his hurry to move the drink out of her way. “I’m gonna owe you so many tips.”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Max greeted, strolling in from the kitchen with the type of spring in his step usually reserved for thekinds of people who whistle tunes in crowded hallways. “Noah and Chris are back from the … well”—he grinned—“you know. You ready to head out?”
