Page 21 of The Harborer
“It’s a trope. It’s when the hero’s protective side comes out in spades. He rushes in and defends his heroine. Like what Shane just did for you.”
“He’s the hero and you’re the heroine,” Hailey added helpfully.
What?“But I’m not—”
Hailey gave her a broad grin. “You need to read more romance novels.”
“Didn’t it kind of tickle your ovaries?” asked Joy … and she was serious. “It tickled mine.”
Truth be told, what Shane did practicallypoppedAmy’s ovaries, but she couldn’t admit that to anyone—especially herself. Flummoxed, she stammered, “I n-never expected …”
“For our deputy to come to your rescue?”
“No,” she hissed. Tongue-tied, she blurted the first thing that popped into her muddled brain. “I can’t believe he used the ‘C’ word.”
Hailey cocked an eyebrow. “Amy, do you even know what the ‘C’ word is?”
“Sure. It stands for cockroach, cat, and councilwoman. Among other things.”
They all burst into laughter that drew some of the crowd’s attention—including the subject of their conversation, who simply smiled and shook his head as if he knewexactlywhat they were talking about. Amy couldn’t stop her blush from spreading.
With a snicker, Hailey gestured toward the deputy thronged by an entourage of female fans, including, of course, Estelle. “I guess we’re not the only ones whose ovaries were affected by Shane’s alpha reveal. If they keep batting their eyelashes at him like that, it’s going to be hard for him to get that big head of his through the door.”
An odd defensiveness surged inside Amy. Shane didn’t have a big head. But she didn’t have time to protest because Joy cut offwhatever might have tumbled from her mouth by deadpanning, “My money’s on Estelle winning this particular battle.”
“Didn’t you fix them up once?” Hailey asked.
Joy nodded. “Several times.”
“I’m guessing by the smiles on their faces that it went well,” Hailey chuckled. “Good. It’s about time Shane got a girlfriend, even a long-distance one.”
Mildly horrified by the direction of this conversation, Amy sat quietly, retracting into her shell, wondering how she could slip away and get her butt home.
Joy rested her elbow on the bar behind her and leaned back. “Oh, I don’t think this is a long-term thing. More of a convenience.” She placed her free hand against the side of her mouth and whisper-shouted, “As in fuck buddies who help each other out by scratching certain itches.”
Amy’s hand flew to the side seemingly on its own—she had no idea where it was going—knocking over her glass of champagne. “Darn it!”
What a klutz!
Her blush doubled in heat, rising from her chest to her scalp. Hailey grabbed a wad of cocktail napkins and began dabbing at the puddle.
Amy tried to take over—this washermess, after all—but Hailey pushed her hand away. “I got this. You get yourself another glass of champagne.”
“No, I don’t think I sh—”
“Barkeep!” Hailey barked at Noah, who stood behind the bar socializing andnotworking for a change.
“What’s up, surfer girl?” he called back.
“Amy spilled her drink. How about a refill?”
Noah held up his index finger, the universal sign of, “Just a sec.”
Amy ducked down, her head turtling between her shoulders. “Do you have to announce how clumsy I am to theentirebar?” she grumbled. Oh, how she’d like to disappear until her cheeks cooled.
Joy patted her arm. “Speaking of scratching itches, I’m gonna go find that sexy husband of mine.” She hopped off her seat. “Later, Aims.”
When Amy dared lift her head moments later, a fresh glass of champagne sat before her. A quick tour of the room told her Micky hadn’t come back, and Estelle had once more captured Shane’s arm, though he didn’t look as pleased about it as she did. Were theyreallycasual, convenient hookups? Something about his posture said otherwise, especially when he broke her hold, stepped back, and parked his fists on his waist, a slight frown marring his handsome features.
