Was he hitting on her? Yeah, okay, maybe he was.
Finally, she gave him a quick nod before brushing past him in the direction of the dirty booth. Dean started with the closest clean table and by the time Shelby had wiped down the booth and locked the front door from the inside, he was working on the barstools.
“Hey, where should I put this?”
She turned, surprise on her face when she saw him holding the still-unopened beer bottle in his hand. “The beer cooler is behind the bar on the far left. I guess you weren’t really interested in a beer, huh?”
No, he’d come back here tonight for just one reason. To see her.
Yeah, he was definitely hitting on her.
Shelby hadn’t waited for an answer before disappearing through the swinging door. She returned a minute later with a couple of brooms and a dustpan. She paused but relented and passed one over to him when he held out his hand. Their fingers brushed and that same flicker that had crackled between them when he touched her before was still there. The widening of those beautiful eyes told him she felt it, too.
She spun away and headed for the back corner of the bar. He went to the front and they worked silently as an Elvis ballad filled the air. When they met in the middle of the room, Shelby grabbed a nearby trash barrel and took command of the dustpan. They finished just as the last notes of the song faded away.
She never once looked directly at him.
“Is that it?” Dean asked. “Or are we breaking out a mop and a pail of soapy water?”
“No, we don’t wash the floors until the weekend is over unless a customer gives us a reason to—” A faint buzzing filled the air, cutting off Shelby’s words. “Oh, darn it!”
She handed him the broom while fishing a cell phone out of her rear pocket. Tossing the dustpan into the trash can, she grabbed it and headed around the end of the bar while the thumb of one hand flew over the phone’s flat screen.
Replying to a text message? Was someone wondering why she hadn’t come home yet?
Dean hadn’t considered that. There was no ring on her finger, but that didn’t mean anything.
He’d been surprised after walking Jazzy back to where she was staying at Strickland’s Boarding House last night to find Shelby Jenkins still on his mind. He was intrigued by her, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and he found himself wanting to know her better.
Now he knew why she’d spent most of last night frowning in his direction.
She thought he was already involved with someone. A misconception he’d cleared up earlier before she kicked him out of the bar. Not that he’d planned on leaving, at least not until he was sure she believed him. Now he was glad he’d stuck around.
“Well, that’s it. Thanks again for your help.”
He noticed her cell phone was gone, back in her pocket he guessed or inside the leather purse that hung from her shoulder.
“You might want to put these away.” He walked over to her, holding out the brooms.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She took them from his grasp, not allowing their hands to touch this time. “You can—”
“Walk you to your car?” He cut her off, offering a wide smile for the offense. “Great idea. You parked out back?”
“What are you—Why are doing all this?”
“I’m a nice guy?”
“Or maybe you think I’m an easy—”
“I think you’ve had a long night.” Dean cut her off again. “That includes being manhandled by a drunk and I just want to make sure you get to your car safely. That’s all.”
She nodded, and moments later, they were outside in the warm summer air. The parking lot was empty except for a couple of pickups and a car. Dean was glad to see the area was well lit. He glanced quickly at his watch. Almost twothirty in the morning. He guessed there were many nights when Shelby left the bar this late.
She headed for the used four-door that looked as if its best days were long behind it, her keys already in her hand.
“You know, I was planning to come by earlier than I did,” Dean said, falling into step beside her. “I worked until sunset at the elementary school and then fell asleep reading.”
“All of the volunteers have been working so hard to help the town get back on its feet.” Shelby reached the driver’s-side door and quickly unlocked it. “Everyone appreciates all you’ve done.”
He realized his time with her was ending fast. “Well, you know what they say about all work and no play. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime.”
She yanked the door open and hesitated for a moment before sliding in behind the wheel. “I don’t think so.”
The door closed before he could stop her. Defeated, Dean could do nothing but stand there as she jammed her keys into the ignition. A quick turn and the highlights came on, but nothing else did except for a rapid clicking noise.
He watched her mouth move in what he guessed were a few colorful word choices as she tried to start her car again with the same results. Twice.
Tapping on the window, he waited until she rolled it down to lean forward and peer in at her. “Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”
“Dean, you’ve already done so much for me tonight.” She stared straight ahead out the windshield. “I can’t ask you—”
He liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips. “You didn’t ask. I offered. Now, pop it.”
She did as he asked and he walked around to the front of the car, lifting the hood. She’d parked beneath a light, which helped somewhat. He fiddled with the battery connections but they were tight.
“Here, this might help.”
He turned to find Shelby standing next to him with a flashlight. “Thanks.”
Ten minutes later, he shut off the light and closed the hood with a light bang. Shelby stood leaning against the driver’s-side door. “Sorry. I don’t see anything that’s a simple fix. It might just be your battery. More likely it’s the alternator or the starter.”
“It’s money I can’t afford to spend right now, that’s what it is.” She took the flashlight from him and tossed it back inside her car, locking the door behind her. “A perfect ending to a perfect night.”
Dean wasn’t happy this happened, but at least he was going to get to spend more time with her. “Come on, I’ll take you home. Can we walk from here?” Considering the size of Rust Creek Falls, a person was able to walk from one end of town to the other in a few hours.
Shelby was shaking her head before he finished talking. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“I’m not going to let you walk alone.” He remembered her cell phone. Damn, he hated to ask, but he had to. “Unless there’s someone you can call to come get you?”
Shelby tightened her grip on her purse, an array of emotions playing across her face before she turned away into the shadows. Silence filled the air and he wondered what she wasn’t telling him.
“No,” she finally said. “There’s no one. And I don’t live in town. I’m on the east side of the creek, over on the edge of the Traub ranch.”
Dean had met most of the Traub family when they’d held a barbecue out at their place last month inviting the whole town, including the volunteers.
“Are you related to the Traubs?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My daddy used to work at the ranch.”