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She's so sweet it breaks my heart.
Oh, and she’s not finished.
“By the way, guys, in case you don’t know, Destiny’s passion for wildlife conservation is legendary. She’s brave and feisty and so, so smart. Since she’s been a big part of inspiring me to get my crap together, go check out her stuff. It’s not all about the cute animals. Check her stuff out and take this opportunity to see what differenceyoucan make in the world.”
I lean over, beaming at Shepherd. “You know, that gives me an idea to celebrate...”
He groans. “No. We’re not getting involved with birds. I already funded one big search effort, and you’re stuck with Molly and your otters.”
* * *
A slightly harassedman in a blazer and rumpled suit checks my mic, making sure it’s attached securely and ready.
Shepherd, beside me, wears one of his customary charcoal suits. Classy and gorgeous and decently intimidating.
“You can’t scowl at her the whole time,” I say.
“I don’t scowl in court.” His brows inch down even lower.
“C’mon, Captain McSnarly, that’s your favorite expression, and this is the court of public opinion.” I preen at him.
Miracle of miracles, he laughs.
“Please try to look friendly,” I tell him. “Be approachable.”
He snorts. “The fact you’re doubting my ability to do either of those things is insulting.”
“Nope, it’s realistic.” I adjust his tie, though it doesn’t need me to. He’s handsome and polished, as always. “I know you, mister.”
“Good. Then you’ll know I’m perfectly capable of being polite—when the occasion demands it.”
Right.
His version of polite is shooting death rays from his eyes.
Vanessa Dumas, of course, likely knows what to expect.
I imagine he was that version of polite with her once, too, back when they were together.
Nottogether, though.
Not really, I remind myself.
But when he took her places and behaved like they were more than friends, he probably had his professional mask clenched tight.
It’s an attractive mask, for sure, but there’s no way she mistook his professional façade for any sort offeelings.Or even the hint of attraction.
I know him too well by now.
Well enough to be here while we tie up the last loose end in a nice little bow.
I have to search his face for the softness I adore, somewhere behind the steely blue eyes and the hard, handsome face that’s chiseled by life.
Just for me, he cracks another almost-smile and his hand finds mine.
“Let’s get this over with. You ready?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad will it be?”
