The Maverick's Summer Love. Christyne Butler

that was young. Not that at twenty-eight he was that much older, but still. “You’re not interested, but you know her age?” Dean asked.

      “Rosey told me.”

      Before he could find out who Rosey was, the angelic blonde headed their way. She placed the bottles on the bar in front of them, quickly popping off the caps. “Sorry, Nick. You know Rosey’s rules. No double fisting allowed. Except on Sundays.”

      “And then you better be praying,” Nick added, finishing what Dean guessed was a well-known proverb around the bar. “I thought I’d give it a shot anyway. Shelby, have you met my brother Dean?”

      This time she looked right at him and that heat burned just a little bit hotter when he caught the full power of a pair of baby blue eyes, a perfectly straight nose and lips naked of any dressing but a sweet, if not aloof, smile. “No, I don’t think I have.”

      For a reason he couldn’t explain, Dean shot out a hand across the bar at her. “Dean Pritchett.”

      She stared at him for a moment before she placed her hand in his, the tips of her cool fingers gliding against the calluses on his. “Shelby Jenkins.”

      “Pleased to meet you.” Thankful the words came out sounding normal, he tightened his grip just a bit. “Shelby.”

      “Likewise.” An emotion he couldn’t read flickered across her eyes as she pulled free from his touch. “You boys have fun. I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.”

      Gripping his beer, Dean watched her walk away before drowning his suddenly dry throat in a rush of cool liquid. His next thought popped out of his mouth before he could stop the words. “What’s a nice girl like her doing working in the Ace in the Hole?”

      “Who are you talking about?” Nick pulled his attention from the flat-screen television showing a ball game.

      Dean tipped his bottle in Shelby’s direction. “Our bartender.”

      His brother’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Well, the word around town is she’s too nice actually, if you know what I mean.”

      The meaning behind the words stung. Nothing got Dean’s ire up more than stupid rumors.

      He’d dealt with them as a kid when his weight gain and lack of stamina in gym classes had caused the other kids to talk about him behind his back. Even after the surgery, when long-distance running had brought him lean muscles and track awards, there were still comments about him being the guy in the class that girls loved to be friends with, but nothing else.

      Dean looked down the bar at Shelby. With her big blue eyes and glossy blond hair, she looked like an angel. An innocent angel. “That’s a crappy thing to say.”

      The hard edge in Dean’s words brought forth a confused frown from his brother. “I guess you’re right.” Nick straightened and reached for his beer. “I’m just repeating what I’ve been told.”

      “You can’t believe everything you hear.”

      Nick nodded in agreement, but then turned his attention back to the game.

      By the time they were on their second beers, delivered by Shelby without a glance in his direction, even when Dean had paid for the drinks, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

      Turning around, he found Jasmine “Jazzy” Cates and Cecelia Clifton, two more of Thunder Canyon’s volunteers.

      “Look who’s here!” Cecelia offered a big smile. “Dean, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in the Ace.”

      “Yeah, my brother thought he might need a babysitter tonight.”

      The girls laughed and Nick greeted them, suggesting the four of them grab an empty table. Dean added a couple of singles to the change Shelby had left on the bar, pushing the pile toward the inside edge so she’d see it.

      He started to follow when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw it was a call from Abby, their brother Cade’s wife. “Save me a seat,” he called out. “I’m going to take this.”

      Stepping into the corner near the door, Dean pressed the button. “Hey, Abby. Did Dad and Cade make it home okay?”

      “A few hours ago. I’m calling from your dad’s place. He and Cade are parked in front of the television watching the Rockies get their butts kicked.”

      “Yeah, we’re doing the same at the local watering hole.”

      “Ah, Cade told me about that place. Not quite the same as the Hitching Post, huh?”

      Dean pictured the Western-style restaurant and bar back home in Thunder Canyon that had gone through a complete renovation last fall. “Not even close.”

      “At least the town has a place where people can relax and have some fun. Your dad and Cade told us about all the work you guys have done since you’ve been up there.”

      “There’s still a long way to go,” Dean said. His sister-in-law went quiet for a moment and Dean thought they might have lost their connection, something that still often happened as the town had gotten its cellular service back only a few days before the volunteers arrived.

      “That’s one of the reasons I’m calling, Dean.” Abby’s voice was low, but he could hear the concern in her words. “My sister, Jazzy, went up there with the first group and the family has heard from her only a couple of times since she’s been gone.”

      “She’s been a great help, Abby, working right alongside the guys when we cleaned out the flooded elementary school.” Dean looked over at the subject of their conversation, sitting next to his brother with a beer in her hand. “In fact, she and Cecelia are here tonight with me and Nick.”

      “Oh, good.” Relief colored Abby’s tone. “Could I ask a favor? Keep an eye on her? She went through a pretty bad breakup last month, one that none of us in the family understand, because the guy she was dating seemed perfect for her.”

      As if babysitting Nick wasn’t bad enough. “Ah, look, Abs, I don’t think it’s my place—”

      “I’m not asking you to spy for me. Just make sure she doesn’t do anything…stupid. Please?”

      Dean blew out a breath. He couldn’t say no to Abby. “Yeah, I can do that.”

      Seconds later, Dean had shoved his cell phone into his pocket when the sound of shattering glass caught everyone’s attention.

      He turned and found one of the waitresses standing toe to toe with Shelby over an upturned tray and broken beer bottles on the floor. He wondered for a moment if they were going to go from shooting evil glances to swapping right hooks, but then Shelby seemed to check herself and took a step back.

      “Well, someone is getting lucky tonight.” Shelby’s voice rang out as she bent down to grab a couple of the broken bottles, holding them aloft in concession to the cheers and laughter from the crowd before tossing them into a nearby trash bin. “At least lucky enough to get a beer on the house.”

      Dean fought the urge to help her clean up the mess. Especially after the waitress only grabbed her tray and went back to a nearby booth.

      Shelby spotted him and the foot he’d put forward shuffled back. The message in her gaze was loud and clear.

      Back off.

      He turned instead to join his friends, taking the empty chair next to Jazzy. Nick and Cecelia were on the crowded dance floor with separate partners. Dean angled the chair to face the bar. Yeah, so he could keep an eye on Shelby and no, he didn’t know why, but something about her tugged at him.

      Moments later, she emerged with a tray full of beers for the cowboys at a nearby table. Chatting with the group, she even allowed one of the men to trail his fingers along her forearm before stepping back with that same aloof smile for the interloper she’d given to him.

      When