Beard in Mind (Winston Brothers #4)

Sure, those could have been dogs. To me, they looked more like galloping bears with their tongues hanging out.

On instinct, I pulled Mrs. Cooper closer, shielding her with my side when it became clear the “dogs” were running right for us. In their exuberance to greet strangers, the canines had absolutely no compunction about jumping up on folks.

I wasn’t a small guy. I was six two, just shy of two hundred pounds, most of it muscle. But as two sets of gigantic paws landed on my back and side, I was glad I’d set my feet apart and braced for impact. Mrs. Cooper would’ve surely fallen and broken something if I hadn’t been there, and that had me fuming.

“Laika, Ivan, come!” Shelly’s command was followed by a sharp whistle.

Ignoring her, the huge canines bounced, pouncing again. One of them licked my neck, the other my cheek, and I grunted under the force of their second jump, setting my teeth and sending a disapproving glare to Shelly.

Yeah, my heart faltered two beats as our eyes met, like always. But I was too busy protecting the little old lady in my arms to think much of it. Especially since that little old lady was squealing with laughter.

Finally, she reached for their collars, pulling them away and kneeling to wrap staying arms around their barrel chests. “Shh. Calm down now.”

“My, oh my,” Mrs. Cooper said, still clinging to me as she peeked around my body. “My heart hasn’t had a workout like that since Jake Templeton was my mailman.”

I did not want to know what that meant.

“What’s the breed?” I asked, glaring at my coworker. “Grizzly?”

For a split second, and likely my imagination, I thought I saw the side of Shelly’s mouth tick up. But just as fast, all trace of amusement disappeared. Dear Lord. If she smiled . . . that could be catastrophic to anyone in its path.

“They’re a newfie-mastiff mix.”

“Are you sure they’re not part sasquatch?” Mrs. Cooper laughed, apparently delighted and coming completely around me. “Can I pet them?”

“I don’t think Beau would like that.” Shelly’s eyes flickered to mine and then away, her arms straining where she held the animals. I couldn’t help but notice, Shelly didn’t seem to have a problem holding two big, dirty dogs. And yet, she couldn’t be bothered to shake hands with a human.

“Ta! Don’t mind him. He’s just protective of me.” My momma’s friend winked at me, adding in a loud whisper, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Shelly’s eyebrows jumped a tick on her forehead and she looked to me as though for confirmation.

I nodded, giving Mrs. Cooper the devilish grin I knew thrilled her. “That’s right. But I’m just one of her many admirers.”

“Oh now.” Mrs. Cooper giggled, smacking me lightly on the bicep. Her hand lingering a bit too long while she squeezed my upper arm, adding appreciatively, “You’ve been working out, Beauford.”

I squinted at the old bird and was about to tease her when the real bird in the garage chose that moment to blurt out, “Darin! You asshole!”

Glancing at the parrot where it still perched on the Pontiac, I grimaced. “What’s the bird’s name?”

I heard Shelly clear her throat before saying, “It used to be Darin.”

This revelation earned her a long, curious look, the moment stretching while Shelly met my stare silently, swallowing twice while I studied her.

The bird was the first to speak. “Cocks are for closers.”

Mrs. Cooper barked a laugh at that, drawing my attention to her big smile. “He has a very colorful vocabulary, does he not?”

“But I renamed him Oliver.” Shelly lifted her chin, her eyes growing flinty. “He’s a rescue.”

My companion studied Shelly for a tick before saying kindly, “Well, I think he’s wonderful. And where are my manners? I am Mrs. Annabell Cooper, but you can call me Bell.”

Luckily, the older woman didn’t extend a hand for a shake, likely because Shelly’s arms were still full of energetic dog. Even so, I tensed in readiness for one of her insults.

Again, Shelly’s eyes darted to mine and then away, coming to rest on Mrs. Cooper’s shoes. “Nice to meet you, Bell.”

Uh . . . what?

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.

I’m sure I was gaping at the woman. Truth be told, I was full-on befuddled. And I couldn’t say how long I stared at Shelly, either. All I knew was, as she returned my stare with her trademark lack of expression, I was ensnared by the realization that her irises weren’t just blue, she had a beauty mark on her left cheek, her bottom lip was larger than her top, and her hair didn’t have streaks of blonde, but rather streaks of gold.

I was struck dumb. As such, it took me a while to realize Mrs. Cooper was filling the silence.

“. . . towed my Caddy—that’s it there, on the back of the truck—it has an oil leak but he says I should be able to drive home with it today, though I might have to come back next week to get it sorted. Isn’t that nice?”

I was having all sorts of crazy thoughts.

Maybe she’s not that bad.

Maybe I’ve misjudged Shelly Sullivan.

Maybe Cletus is right.

Maybe we just started out on the wrong foot.

But then the woman turned her icicle eyes to Mrs. Cooper and said, “You’re very old. You should not be driving.”

“Ah, yes,” I exhaled, rolling my eyes as I mumbled, “there she is.”

And all was right in the universe once more.

“Pardon?” Mrs. Cooper looked between us, visibly confused.

“I said, maybe you shouldn’t be driving. You’re very—”

“That’s enough,” I bit out, sending Shelly a glare most people couldn’t misinterpret.

Not to be ignored, Oliver chimed in, “Cocks are for closers. Bend over, fuckface!”

I released a humorless laugh, sighing again, and turning from the royal pain in my ass. “It’s crowded in here today, Mrs. Cooper. How about I get you settled in the front office? We have coffee, or would you like tea?”

I led my momma’s friend from the garage while Oliver’s obscene suggestions followed us. Yeah, I would need to speak with Shelly about the parrot.

“I’ll take mint tea, if you have it.”

If she thinks she’ll be bringing that loud-mouthed parrot into the garage during regular work hours, she has another thing coming.

“But if you don’t have mint, I’m fine with decaf coffee.”

And I swear, if Cletus gives me shit about this, I’ll quit. I’ll cash out and quit and open my own shop.

Mrs. Cooper tugged on my arm, bringing us both to a stop and forcing my attention to her.

“Beau.”

“Yes? Mint tea, right?”

Mrs. Cooper studied me, her smile more a press of lips than a grin. “You know what I like best about growing older?”

“What’s that?” I blinked at her, trying to focus on what she was saying. My mind was elsewhere, concocting scenarios that would lead to the eventual firing of Miss Shelly Sullivan.

“Before a person even opens their mouth to speak,” Mrs. Cooper’s grin widened, “I already know whether or not they’re an asshole.”