Page 74 of Shephard

The four days without contact had proven that.

The song was coming to an end and neither one of us were more comfortable than we’d been.

“I can’t do this, Shephard.”

“We’re not doing anything.”

“Yeah, we are. We just run in different worlds.” He let me go and I quickly walked away, heading back to my perch.

“Don’t say it,” I told Maggie.

“I’m going to.”

“Nope.”

“You’re going to need to learn it’s okay to care about someone again.” It was the only thing Maggie said after my return. She knew better than to push it with me when I got this way.

Even she didn’t know about several incidents with Jameson. No one did. It was too embarrassing, too disgusting what I’d allowed myself to fall into.

Never again.

That had been the motto I’d adopted and I was going to stick to it.

CHAPTER 19

Shephard

Damn it.

I couldn’t figure out what it was about Denise that both electrified and drove me nuts. Every encounter had been tumultuous, every conversation laced with an edge. We were both fighting a war we couldn’t win.

However, being that close to her had gone straight to my cock.

She had a way about her that seemed natural and easy. She was beautiful, but I doubted she had any idea. I’d studied the way she’d interacted with her friend, slightly self-conscious at first when she thought I might be watching her. But their rapport was natural. She’d smiled and it was as if the entire bar had become electrified, but it wasn’t fake or pretend in any way. It was the kind of smile that made you need to smile back.

It created a mood, a lingering series of sensations that I’d sensed every man in the bar had felt. And when she laughed, it seemedas if the music stopped as well as every conversation, the sound so beautiful that it was meant to be heard.

When she’d been hit on by the first man, my upper lip had twitched. The second almost forced me to finish my beer in one long swallow. But the third and the worst, a guy who dared place his hand on her back almost had me cross the bar in two seconds flat, pummeling him to the floor.

Yeah, I had my first jealous streak. It had yet to end. If some jerk from the bar thought he was going to follow her home, weaseling his way into her life, he’d learn the hard way crossing me wasn’t good for anyone.

Especially him.

I had another beer, maybe a part of me hoping she’d return to finish the damn dance. Even if I had two left feet. It was tough not to laugh at whatever I’d been thinking. Still, I’d wanted a beer and for some reason, I’d needed the noise. That happened rarely, my mind needing the quiet to function. Tonight was different.

Four days.

Yeah, I hadn’t been man enough to tell her I’d felt awkward, uncertain what to do next around her. I was good with sex, but we’d reached a different level. What a chicken shit I was.

And I’d walked out the damn door. That wasn’t like me. I took what I wanted.

Big man. Wasn’t I?

Tonight, my hackles were raised. Since bootcamp, I’d learned to follow my instincts. They were almost never wrong. Somethingwas off that I couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was told me to stay right where I was.

And watch.

Which is exactly what I did for the next hour and a half, doing nothing more than nursing on a couple of beers as I studied the crowd. The place was jam-packed as it had been before, more tourists than locals. That was easy to identify and I wasn’t from here. The girls remained at the bar, laughing and talking. Men hit on them every few minutes, but the girls barely responded.