“Oh, honey.” She reaches over the table and takes my hand. “I’m not buying a new house yet.”
“Where are you gonna go?”
She shrugs and glances down at the table, an embarrassed flush spreading over her cheeks. “Don’t know. There’s not much for me here without you. I was thinkin’ about Tennessee if you’re gonna settle there to record or…” her gaze flicks to Rooster briefly. “Until I figure out where I want to land, I thought I’d rent a place down by the Pearl.”
Just how much did these strangers offer to buy the house for? “Lot of nice, newer places. Kind of a younger crowd, though. Won’t that be annoying?” I ask.
She narrows her eyes. “Are you calling me old?”
“No.”
“There are more places within walking distance. Lot of bars, coffee shops, and restaurants for me to find a job.”
Dammit, I hate the thought of my momma still waitin’ tables.
“Don’t look at me like that, Shelby,” she warns, reading my expression correctly. “I’m not good at sittin’ around doing nothing. And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna live off my daughter.”
Jiggy shoots his eyes-wide-as-saucers face toward Rooster but I can’t figure out what he’s worked up over.
“Well, I can’t afford for you to ‘live off’ me yet, anyway. But I do worry about you.”
The rumble of a few bikes kicks up out front. “Shoot, did we chase them away?” I ask Rooster.
He shrugs. “They’ll be fine.”
That doesn’t exactly answer my question but if he’s not worried about it, then I won’t.
“I wanted this to be a celebration.” Momma pouts. “I’m relieved to be gettin’ rid of this place.” She casts a sad look toward the house.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” I assure her. “I hope they’re not going to film some ‘making fun of Shelby Morgan’s poor roots’ documentary or something,” I mutter.
“So what if they do?” Jiggy says. “Growing up here made you who you are today. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Thank you, Jensen.” Momma pats his hand and I swear he preens like a big ol’ peacock.
“As annoying as he is,” Rooster nods to Jiggy, “he’s right. You’re more than where you grow up,” Rooster says in a quieter voice.
I meet his loving eyes and realize he’s right.
I guess he’d understand that better than anyone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rooster
Even though Lynn seems confident the people who want the house aren’t closet stalkers, I decide to quietly look into it later.
Lynn’s still giving me those uncertain looks. Not sure what else she’d like me to do to prove myself worthy of her daughter, so I’m not even gonna bother.
“They have a nice pool and gym.” Lynn leans over, showing Shelby pictures on her phone. “I wasn’t sure if I should get a one- or two-bedroom apartment…”
By the quick way she glances at me, I don’t think she’s asking about a guest room for Shelby and me to use when we’re in town.
“Hmm.” Shelby nods along but doesn’t explain that she won’t be moving back in with her mother.
In my head, we’re already living together. Hopefully, in New York. Lynn’s more than welcome to find a place near us or I’ll make sure Shelby visits often.
The tour may almost be over, but I’m not willing to go back to living without Shelby in my life every day.
Shelby’s unusually quiet while she listens to her mom talk about the apartment complexes she’s visited.
Maybe we’re not on the same page.
The bikes return and Lynn hustles into the house to fix dessert. Shelby kisses my cheek before following her mother inside.
“What crawled up your ass?” Jiggy asks me.
“Nothing.” I lift my chin. “Surprised you didn’t run panting after her.”
“Is that an option now? I thought you didn’t want me—”
“I don’t.”
“Are you wearing that sour puss because Lynn assumes Shelby’s moving home after the tour?”
This fucker knows me too well.
When I don’t answer he rolls his eyes. “Gee, here’s a novel idea, you could tell Shelby that.”
“I thought I already did.”
“Did you?” He cocks his head in the most dickish way possible.
“Who are you, Dear Prudence, now?”
His lips curl into a smug smile. “I do have a similar sardonic deadpan, don’t I?”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.
“We’re back!” Pants announces, holding up a paper bag with a triumphant fist in the air.
“Where’d you go?”
“Ice cream run,” Dex explains. “Mrs. Morgan said she had pound cake, Cool Whip, and berries.” He jerks his thumb at Pants. “Tubby over here said he needed ice cream.”
“Hey.” Pants shoves Dex and lifts his shirt. “You wish you were this ‘tubby’.”
“Jesus Christ, we just ate,” I grumble, shielding my eyes from the glare of Pants’ nipple rings. “Put those away.”
“Ladies love ‘em.”
Steer tackles Pants, the two of them landing on the ground with a loud thud.
“Jesus,” I grumble. “The fuck?”
Steer ignores me, flicking his fingers over Pants’ nipples. “I want to hook my fingers in them and rip ‘em out. Is that weird?”
“Yes,” we answer in unison.
Pants laughs uncontrollably while swatting at Steer and trying to hold the bag of ice cream up off the ground. “Get off me! That tickles, you motherfucker. Don’t you dare rip them out!”
“I’ll take this inside to Mrs. Morgan.” Dex whips the bag away from Pants.
“You can call me Lynn, you know.” She holds the back door open for Dex and pats his shoulder as he walks by.
Shelby returns with a huge red bowl of berries and sets it in the middle of the table. “Lordy.” She whistles, eying the guys as they continue rolling around on the ground, cursing at each other.
I pat my hand against her seat and she joins me.
Pants and Steer brush themselves off and join us. A few minutes later Dex and Lynn return with cake, ice cream, and plates.
“You could help your mother-in-law, you know.” Pants points at me, then Lynn.
“Let’s not get crazy.” Lynn chuckles. “Shelby’s a long, long way off from marriage.”
I grit my teeth and glare at Pants who quickly looks at the sky.
Under the table, Shelby slides her hand into mine and squeezes.
“You really couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law, Lynn,” Jiggy says, licking ice cream off his fingers.
I kick him under the table. He flinches but doesn’t stop running his mouth. “He comes with all these built-in helpers.” Jiggy circles his hand in the air, indicating the other guys.
“Big help,” I mutter.
“Logan and I will discuss our wedding when we are ready,” Shelby declares, emphasizing the we so hard I lean over and kiss her cheek, not giving a fuck if my brothers heckle me again.