Beard In Mind: (Winston Brothers, #4) by Penny Reid

Author:Penny Reid [Reid, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

My twin glowered at me. I was used to his surly moods. His glower didn’t affect me any. Plus, truth be told, I wasn’t too happy with him either. His nosy self had just interrupted a moment. And now, instead of making out with Shelly—or more than making out with Shelly—I was on the receiving end of my twin’s tremendously unsexy frown.

When he was done glowering, he turned softer features to Shelly. “Mind if we come in?”

“Yes. Please come in.” Shelly waved them forward, still looking a little hazy from our earlier encounter.

Before opening the door, she’d put the two dogs in the bedroom. They were still barking, but were no longer snarling.

“How many dogs do you have in there?” As they entered, Duane sent a wary look toward the bedroom door. “Twenty?”

Jess huffed at Duane and then turned her smile to Shelly. “I’m Jessica.”

Shelly stiffened, and I witnessed her panic war with frustration.

But before Shelly could say anything, Jessica continued, “Duane told me not to try to shake your hand, so don’t worry about that. Honestly, I hate shaking hands. I never know how long to hold a handshake. And then, who does the shaking? What if no one shakes? Then I’m just standing there, holding some stranger’s hand. It’s the worst.”

One of Shelly’s almost smiles made an appearance as her gaze moved over Jessica.

Finally, she said, “I’m Shelly.”

“Yes. I know.” Jessica beamed at her, then held up her pie. “I brought pie.”

“You said that already.” I squinted at my brother’s girlfriend.

She was acting funny. Sure, she’d always been a little zany, but this was different. Jess looked excited and nervous; it reminded me of how she used to act around me when we were kids, when she had a crush on me and struggled to string three words together.

“Did I?” Jess continued to smile, her attention never leaving Shelly’s face.

“Come into the kitchen, I have plates.” Shelly waved my brother and Jess forward, flipping on a light by the door.

I didn’t follow. I could hardly believe my eyes. The interior of Mr. Tanner’s shack had been transformed. It was still small, but it was no longer shabby.

The room where we stood, because the front door opened onto a room, was lined with bookshelves. She’d placed a brown leather couch and ottoman in the center of the room along with a lamp. Furniture was sparse, but it was nice furniture. It looked comfortable, definitely high quality.

A console table stood directly opposite the front door with a large, brass tray on it. I spotted screws and bolts and other various and sundry widgets scattered on its surface, along with a thick brown wallet.

The place used to have visible pipes and electrical wiring; that was no longer the case. The walls not lined with shelves were covered with drywall and fresh white paint. The installation looked brand new. Upon the walls hung a collection of captivating paintings, drawings and prints—all framed and precisely aligned.

“In a minute,” Duane called to Shelly.

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