Page 75 of Small Town, Big Storm

“Hey, Pop,” he says.

Like he’s been here every night for the last seven years.

That fear wells up, so rapidly, so intensely that I open my mouth, no doubt to say something terrible.

Luckily, there’s a man at his side who speaks before I can let all that terror loose.

“Thisis Poppy?”He whistles as he looks me up and down.“Hot damn, man.I see what you mean.”

My throat—which had gone tight with that fear—relaxes.

A harmless flirt (albeit with shrewd brown eyes) I can handle.

Storm Harrison and all the trouble and complications on the other hand…

Focus.

“Who’re you?”I ask.

He smiles, and hell if it isn’t a sexy smile that pairs well with his gorgeous face.His dark hair is a little long and shaggy, and there’s some wave in it, as though it’s calling for a woman’s fingers to run through the strands and put them to rights.

And considering the knowing look in his eyes—the one that tells me he knows precisely how gorgeous he is—the silky way he says, “I’m Shep,” is certainly deliberate.

But whether to flirt with me or piss off Storm (whose expression goes thunderous), I don’t know.

“Mmm-hmm,” I say, slapping a menu in front of him and plunking a Sully-branded coaster on the bar top beside it.“The kitchen is closed, but we have plenty of drinks and a few prepackaged snacks you can order.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” he says, barely glancing at the menu.Instead, his deep brown eyes lock onto mine, as though trying to ferret out all my secrets.

But I’m not so easily read.

So, when he asks, “What do you recommend?”

I say, without missing a beat, “Something expensive and top-shelf.”

He freezes, amusement dancing through his eyes, and he glances over at Storm.“I like your Poppy.”

“I’m not his,” I protest.

That has his gaze slowly swiveling back to mine, and I realize I’ve made a grave error.“No?”

Another silky question.

“What about mine?”

I frown.

“Would you bemine?” he drawls.

Ah.

Back to the shameless flirting.

I roll my eyes.“Why do you have a goose feather in your hair?”

Storm snorts as Shep shoves his hand through those messy locks, dislodging not just one but a half dozen feathers.“Gerald.”

Shep nods, his eyes going wide.“I had my first run-in with the Cedar Hollow Mafia.”A faux-shudder as he leans over the bar, making it seem like he’s going to launch himself into my arms.“Hold me, Poppy.I’m still scared.”