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Me. His friend.As opposed to playing the field and cruising single chicks. Or whatever else the kids were calling it these days.
She forced out a playful groan as she tipped her head back to stare up at the sky. “As wonderful as that sounds, I’ve been specifically counseled by my mother, who I’m sure I’vepreviously mentioned is a professional matchmaker, to spend less time with my friends, not more.”
Please let it go at that.
“What?” He barked out the word, yanking her gaze back to his.
“You heard me.” Was it possible to turn any redder? She was pretty sure her face was about to combust. “Though I tried to assure my mother you have no intention of asking me out anytime soon, she went on to give an exhaustive list of reasons as to why you and I are very, very, very wrong for each other. Special emphasis on theverypart. Plus, if I sign up for your team, there’s absolutely no way I’ll have time to date the long list of guys she’s picked out for me to startworking my way through.” A giggle escaped her as she put air quotes around the last part of her statement.
“Ouch.” Though Shep’s voice was bland, a glare had replaced his half smile. “Exactly how interested are you inworking your way throughsaid list?” He put air quotes around the same words she had.
Prim signed his form with a flourish and handed the clipboard back to him. “So not interested,” she mumbled without quite making eye contact. She had no one but herself to blame for introducing the topic.
What was I thinking?
“Thought that might be the case.” He accepted the clipboard, eyeing her signature with a wicked gleam in his gaze.
Maybe she’d imagined the wicked part, but she could sense that he was gloating. “You know me too well,” she grumbled.
“Welcome to the team, Prim.” His smirk strengthened her conviction that he was most definitely gloating over the fact that he’d worn down her resistance on the subject.
“I more or less signed up under duress,” she reminded him. “My signature in no way guarantees I’ll be of any help during your next manhunt. So, um, don’t get your hopes up.”
“Watch me.” He stood and stuffed his clipboard into a camouflage backpack. It looked military grade.
She glanced around them in surprise. “Aren’t you going to stick around to recruit some more people?”
“Nope. I prefer quality over quantity.”
She wasn’t sure she fit into the quality category. In fact, she was pretty sure she didn’t. “I’m youronlyvolunteer,” she pointed out.
“My onlyofficialvolunteer.” He shrugged. “Adriel assured me I can count on the rez police to help out whenever they can.” Like most locals, he referred to the Comanche reservation located adjacent to Heart Lake as simply the rez.
“That won’t be often, and you know it.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, chewing it in consideration. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a grand total of three of them, and at least two are always on the clock.” Sometimes, Sheriff Adriel Montana and his two deputies, Paco and Marco, were all three on duty at the same time. Sadly, the small Comanche reservation couldn’t afford to add anyone else to the payroll.
“That’s why I was hoping for at least one more volunteer.” Shep turned the folding table on its side, tucked the legs beneath it, and collapsed it. Then he stuffed his lawn chair inside its sleeve. Throwing his backpack and chair over one shoulder, he gripped the handle of the folding table in his other hand.
“Well, you ended up with me.” Prim shook her head at him.
“Yep.” He didn’t sound the least bit disappointed, which was puzzling. The gleam was back in his gaze. She wished she knew what it meant.
“I’m not very athletic.” She glanced down at her curvy frame, wrinkling her nose. Since she’d been born with an insatiable sweet tooth, it was a constant battle to keep her weight down.
“You don’t need to be an athlete to save lives, Prim.” His voice was serious. “You care about the tribe, something you prove every day that you show up for work. That’s the most important qualification. The rest of it I can easily square you away on.”
“If you say so.” She reached for the handle of the folding table, intending to help him carry his gear.
He held it away from her. “I’ve got it.” He whistled at his dogs to stand, then angled his head for them to follow him. The four of them walked in companionable silence to his pickup truck. He owned a blue and white Ford F-150 that had a bit of rust around the edges.
Or used to.
She stopped in surprise at the sight of the gleaming new paint job. Solid navy with a hint of metallic sparkle. The dingy white middle layer was gone altogether.
“Oh, wow, Shep!” She reached out to brush a finger over the door handle, half expecting some of the sparkles to rub off. “Wow!” Her vocabulary felt like it was shrinking. “This, um…looks great.” Normally, she was full of fun and clever quips, but not today. It was as close as she had come to being tongue-tied in years. Maybe she was coming down with a cold or something.
“Compliments of Jace Countryman. Pounded out a few dents while he was at it, too. He and his brothers do good work.”
“So I’ve heard.” Though she’d not yet had a reason to pay them a visit, she glanced in the direction of the Triple J Auto Body Shop the three Countryman brothers owned and operated right outside the gates of the reservation. She could just barely see the outline of the building through the naked branches of the trees separating the reservation from Heart Lake. Come spring,the shop would be hidden from view altogether from where she stood.
