Page 32 of One Last Shot

London handed her a plate, then set the bacon in front of her. “So, youget all the fun.”

Boo looked up at her.

“Oaken Fox. Moose filled me in yesterday.” London picked up a piece of bacon. “He’s hot.”

“He’s a celebrity. Hot is a requirement.” Boo dished up the berries.

“You have an Oaken Fox album on your playlist.”

She looked at London. “I also have Wham!, Elvis, and John Denver.”

London held up a hand. “Just sayin’, you’ve been here for two months and never been on a date.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

London smiled and picked up her plate. “Yeah, well, I have reasons.”

“Like Shep.”

London’s mouth opened. “No.”

“Yes. I see the way you look at him. And him at you.”

“We’re... no. Not ever. He’s like a brother to me. And we work together.”

“Mm-hmm.” Boo finished off her eggs, then went to the fridge and found some plain yogurt. “Well, don’t get all dewy-eyed. Oaken Fox is miles out of my league. And even if he wasn’t, I’m not on the market.”

She brought the yogurt back to the counter, added the berries, and stirred them in. London’s gaze was on her when she looked up.

“What?”

“He’s not out of your league. And give me one reason why you’re not on the market.”

About four came to mind—Blake. Betrayal. Burned.And not least, getting her heart broken again. Instead, “I don’t need a man to make my life better.”

“Agreed,” London said and lifted her fist.

Boo bumped it.

“So, what’s on your training schedulefor Oaken today?”

“I’m bringing him to the Shed. I want to see how well he can climb and rappel, and maybe I’ll get him up in Harriet.”

“Trying to scare him?”

“I don’t think Oaken is easily scared, but...” She lifted a shoulder. “We’re not playing games out there.”

“No games. I’ll remember that.” London winked. “I’m grabbing a shower.” She put her dish in the sink, rinsed it, then stuck it in the dishwasher and headed upstairs.

Boo stared out the window as she finished off her yogurt. Thick pine edged the yard but opened to a view of the inlet, the fog now lifted, the sun bright. So maybe this wouldn’t be a complete disaster. If she could keep her mouth shut, stay away from the camera, and just do her job.

No stupid sacrifices of the heart.

Her wrist buzzed, picking up a text. She lifted her arm. Read the text.

What? Aw, c’mon.

Blake