Page 4 of Saving Shepperd

I executed a quick, seated curtsey at his compliment and took a moment to soak in the vibe of being near this guy. It had been so long since I’d felt playful and lighthearted that I almost had trouble identifying what I was feeling. Being around Law created a buoyancy in my heart and mind, and it felt really good. Addicting.

Yeah, the nickname Danger suited him perfectly. Spending time with him was dangerous. Dangerously alluring and dangerously enjoyable. If I were wise, which I could plainly admit I typically wasn’t, I’d end things with the man before they got started.

I couldn’t be hurt if I didn’t put myself at risk, right?

ChapterTwo

Law

Confidence was something I had in abundance. The word swagger had been thrown my way a time or two. That was fine. I could own both those traits. Who didn’t appreciate someone who knew what they wanted and had the balls to go for it?

“Does your family call you Lawrence?” Shepperd asked.

“Not if they expect me to respond,” I chuckled. “Of course, no rules ever apply to our mom because she is the queen of the castle. She does whatever she wants, and we all give in to her every request,” I answered after finishing my wine.

The bottle was empty, and our stomachs were full. I knew going into the evening that the woman ate like a mouse. She had to with how small she was. Like a dumbass, I made way too much food. Now I’d be eating the leftovers for every meal for the rest of the week.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to ask you this,” she said while looking adorably shy. Not a look I had seen before on the sassy siren. But I kind of liked it, or more so that I brought it out in her.

“I’m an open book,” I assured her and sat back more comfortably on my seat. “Ask away.”

“What do you do? For a job, I mean?” She set her fork down and groaned. “I can’t eat another bite. Honestly, that was incredible.”

“I’m glad you liked it. Next time I’ll know to leave out the olives.” I snuck her a quick wink so she wouldn’t feel self-conscious about the little mound of black olive pieces pushed far to one side of her plate.

“Sorry,” she apologized and set her napkin over the offending pile.

“No need to apologize, darling,” I reassured. “I didn’t know you didn’t like them, so my apologies as well. As far as employment, I lead the sales team for one of my father’s companies. My education was focused on marketing, and it just kind of dovetailed into the spot I’m in now.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“For the most part. It’s not easy being in his shadow all the time, but it has been incredible learning from him. Seems like I’m constantly screwing something up, though. He’s a very tough guy to please. Seemingly impossible standards.”

“That must be parents’ inclination. I go through much of the same with mine. Though not with regard to my employment.” She shrugged. “They don’t even know I have a job.”

“Are you not close?” I asked, trying to learn more about her.

“Hmmm, that’s a complicated subject,” she said but didn’t explain further.

I tilted my chin slightly and waited, hoping she’d open up a bit. The woman intrigued me more than any I’d associated with lately. She was smart and damn clever. When we had light, joking back-and-forth exchanges, she gave as good as she got. I appreciated it when a person didn’t take everything so seriously. Made me look forward to talking to her.

Shepperd finished the last of her wine and exhaled heavily. “There are seven in my family. My parents and five girls. I actually have a twin.” She gave a rare, genuine smile after that detail and quickly added, “And no, we don’t sleep with guys together, so don’t even ask about your chances.”

“Damn,” I teased. “Just when I thought I’d get to cross something off my bucket list!”

“You’d be shocked how many times I’ve had to address the topic,” she said with one of the best eye rolls I’d ever seen.

“No, I know guys are pigs. Add to that how gorgeous you are, and I’m guessing you’re beating guys off with a stick all the time.”

“Well, that’s probably overstating things a bit, but my sisters are all beautiful. We all look very similar, and since we’re so close in age, people tend to notice us,” she shared while carrying her plate to the sink.

“Let me clean up since you cooked,” she insisted.

“You’re my guest,” I said, taking the dish directly from her hand. “I’d much rather sit and talk more. Let’s get comfortable in the next room, and I’ll clean this up later.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, and I appreciated her wanting to help. I’d cooked for women in the past who didn’t lift a finger or even offer to. They’d just expected to be waited on, and it was a turn-off. I loved taking care of a woman in all ways. But it meant so much more when it was appreciated, not expected.

“How about an after-dinner drink? More wine?” I offered before we took seats on the sofa.

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