The Maverick's Summer Love. Christyne ButlerЧитать онлайн книгу.
smiles disappeared from their faces and they went back to talking among themselves. Shelby took the bottles from her boss and deposited them in the nearby recycling bin, pleased that she’d somehow managed not to break a single one. “How do you do it?”
“Hey, I’ve been dealing with wiseass remarks from customers barely over the legal drinking age too long to let one that lame bother me.” Rosey leaned in close and gave her a quick bump, hip to hip. “Don’t let them get to you.”
Easier said than done. Even with years of practice.
Shelby forced a smile back to her face as she turned to her boss. “I’m barely over the legal drinking age, remember? I went to school with those girls.”
“Yes, but you’ve got an old soul. Not to mention a totally different perspective on what’s important in life. More so than that cosmopolitan crew over there.” Rosey jerked her head toward the booth. “Although they’ve been pounding the drinks pretty hard tonight. You okay closing up alone?”
This time Shelby’s smile was genuine as she leaned in and gave Rosey a quick hug. She considered her boss one part Cher, one part Betty White and 100 percent best friend despite the years separating them.
“It’s just the sorority girls and that last table of cowboys in the corner, new hires out at the McIntyre ranch.” She took a step back. “I’m sure everyone will be gone before Elvis leaves the building.” Rosey always ended her selections with a love song from the King. “I’ll be fine.”
“Ah, excuse me. Am I too late to get a beer?”
The deep male voice had Shelby spinning around.
Dean Pritchett.
He stood just inside the bar’s front door dressed more casually tonight in faded jeans and a simple black T-shirt. A ball cap that had seen better days sat perched on his head.
“I thought you might be closed,” he continued, tipping up the cap’s frayed brim as he moved farther inside a few steps. “Then I heard the jukebox and decided to try my luck.”
“Last call is done, gone and put to bed.” Shelby’s standard answer fell from her lips even as her mind registered that he was alone. No brother and no pretty blonde friend in sight. “Sorry. We’re closing in less than fifteen—”
“We-e-ell, we might be able to find a spare cold brew,” Rosey drawled, interrupting her. “That is, unless you have a problem with the music selection?”
Cocking his head to one side, he seemed to listen intently for a moment before he spoke. “How can anyone have a problem with The Tokens? ‘In the Still of the Night’ is a classic.”
Rosey’s face lit up with a bright smile as she pointed a perfectly manicured fingernail at him. “You can stay. Shelby, get this man a beer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Oh, please, don’t ‘ma’am’ me. The name’s Rosaline Marguerite Shaw with too many other former last names to get into.” The older woman stepped forward and held out her hand. “Everyone calls me Rosey.”
Shelby grabbed a cold beer from the cooler, watching as Dean shook hands with her boss and fell under her charming spell, just like every other man who met her. So why the sudden twist in her stomach?
“Dean Pritchett.” He leaned forward after ending the handshake, his forearms braced against the bar. “This is a nice place you got here, Rosey.”
“My last ex wanted his freedom more than he wanted the Hole. Sometimes I wonder who got the better end of the deal.”
Shelby plopped the icy bottle, twist cap still in place, on the bar. “That will be three bucks.”
Dean straightened and reached for his pocket.
Rosey waved off his efforts. “No need, sugar. This one is on the house.”
“Thanks, Rosey.” Dean spoke to her boss, but his deep green eyes were trained on Shelby.
His steady gaze bothered her more than she would admit. Why was he here? And coming by so late?
Not to mention he’s alone.
Shelby tried to ignore the little voice inside her that had to point out that fact. Again. It’d been years since a guy had managed to occupy any space in her head. There just wasn’t room with everything else she had going on in her life right now.
Rosey was right. For someone so young, she was an old soul and sometimes that old part seemed to reach out from deep inside her to take over every weary bone in her body.
“Shel, honey? Did you hear me?”
Blinking hard, Shelby realized she hadn’t heard a word her boss had said. Knowing Rosey, that wasn’t a good thing. “I’m sorry, what?”
Rosey’s deep red-painted lips twitched, as if she was fighting a losing battle with a grin. Oh, boy, Shelby was in trouble. What exactly had she missed? Her gaze flew to Dean, but he seemed very interested in the bowl of unshelled peanuts sitting on the bar that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“I asked if the cash register is all set,” Rosey said.
“Oh, right. Yes. It’s ready to go.” Turning away, Shelby walked to the other end of the bar, her boss on her heels. She quickly opened the register, handing over the locked money bag knowing Rosey planned to take it home with her tonight.
Shutting the drawer with a push, she remembered something. “Hey, did you see my letter? I thought I left it tucked beneath the cash drawer.”
Rosey sighed. “I thought I told you to burn that thing after you showed it to me yesterday.”
She had, using a few colorful adjectives that were typical for Rosey. “I know, but—”
“But nothing. What did your mama say when you showed it to her?”
Shelby remained silent.
“She didn’t say anything because you never told her what you were doing in the first place.” Rosey guessed correctly. “Oh, sweetie. Why not? Your mama would have supported you.”
“I know that. She would have supported me so much that she couldn’t have kept her mouth shut about it. Everyone in Bee’s Beauty Parlor would have known and then…” Shelby’s voice faded for a moment. “I just didn’t want it to be public knowledge.”
“Look, you earned that degree the hard way. While I don’t even want to think about how it’d be harder than a whore’s heart to run this place without you, they should have considered themselves lucky to get you. Their loss.”
“They didn’t want me.” She kept her voice low. Damn, it still hurt more than it should to say those words aloud. “Even after all that volunteering I did last month with the summer school program…they didn’t want me.”
“Then they’re morons and I’m worried for the younger generation of this town.”
Shelby nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. “Thanks, Rosey.”
“Honey, you need to get your mind off all that stuff.” She tucked the money bag beneath one arm and cocked her head toward the end of the bar. “Something tells me that hunky cowboy could assist you in that endeavor.”
Pushing the strands of blond hair away from her face, Shelby refused to look even though she could feel his gaze on her. After last night it felt…familiar. “Pass.”
“You’re alone too much.”
“I’m never alone.” Shelby reminded her. “Not for the last five years and that’s exactly how I want it.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Yes, she did. It was a heated topic of discussion they’d shared in the past,