A look back at some of Shep's greatest hits in Nothing More:
Even though Cass fussed about him initially, he and Cass had something of an instant rapport.
“Ta, darling.”
They traded cheek kisses, and she returned to her office in time to breach the tail end of a conversation she didn’t like at all.
For starters, Shepherd had joined them, and stood now at the edge of the coffee table, hands in his pockets, jangling change. He looked up from whatever Cass had been showing him on her phone, and gave Greg a dismissive headshake. “Nah, see, that’s for putzes. You gotta have the real thing. The mess, the sap, the hassle, dropping F bombs while you wrestle it outta the truck – that’s part of it. The magic of Christmas and all that shit.”
He glanced up – they all did – as she heeled the door shut with an intentional thump.
“Shep.” She bared her teeth in a smile that immediately had his brows lifting, mouth forming a silent whoa. “Are you entertaining Mr. Ingles with one of your fascinating stories?” If he couldn’t read the warning in that statement, there was no hope for him, not even as a Lean Dog head-basher. Sorry, Maverick, this one’s too stupid for cannon fodder.
But, lucky for him, he said, “Oh, uh…” And stepped back from the table.
Greg chuckled easily. “No worries. Shep was sharing his feelings on the optimum tree. I myself prefer a slender, artificial tree.”
Shep snorted. “Lifeless.”
“Easy to set up, easy to take down, no fallen needles, no fire hazard,” Greg said.
“I want a real tree,” Cassandra said. “Ian promised he’d take us tonight, but now he’s left.” She rolled her eyes and slumped to rest her chin in her hand; sent Raven a pleading gaze.
Raven felt more than a little blindsided. “A real Christmas tree, you mean?”
“Duh. What other sort of tree would I mean?”
She thought of her pale, ash wood floors, her cream rugs, her spotless mantel. “Isn’t it a bit soon for one of those?” Truth told, she hadn’t set up any sort of tree – real or fake – in her London flat in years. One of her friends, Steph, had brought along a twig three years ago, with a single red Christmas ball at the top, laughingly offering it up as a joke. It was the most festive things had been in that flat for a decade.
“Nah,” Shep said, “people start putting that shit up before Thanksgiving these days.”
She shot him a fast, murderous look. You’re my assistant, she tried to convey with a glare. Act like it.
**
United in their love of a good, fresh-smelling tree, Cass looped her arm through Shep’s and dragged him off toward the back of the lot, doubtless toward the more expensive trees.
I feel like the elevator scene is pretty self-explanatory.
Toly did hit him, then. A fast strike, satisfying smack of his knuckles on the edge of his jaw that left Toly’s hand numb, and Shep’s head snapping back to thump into the elevator wall.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Hey!” Bennet shouldered between them. He shoved Toly back to the far corner and caught Shep by the biceps when he would have lunged forward to retaliate. “Knock that shit off, both of you.”
Shep leaned around Bennet to snarl at Toly, all his laughter replaced by the ugly anger that seemed always to simmer just beneath his joking veneer. “You fucking upstart,” he growled. “Fucking borscht-eating, vodka-swilling, Kremlin kiss-ass piece of shit, you don’t even–”
“Shepherd.” Bennet gave him a shake. “Get ahold of yourself, dipshit. Before you say something you regret.”
“He hit me!”
“Yeah, and you deserved it. Now knock it off.”
He ain't eating rabbit food.
The door shut behind him.
Shep said, “Damn. Rip his heart out and stomp on it, why don’t you?”
She turned to him with a snort. “Do you want me cheating on your friend?”
“Hey.” He held up a staying hand, coffee cup in the other. “Toly ain’t a friend of mine.”
She arched a brow. “Perhaps you’d like to have lunch with Greg, then. Console him. You two looked awfully chummy.”
He snorted, and raised his cup. “Nah. Guy’s a douchebag.”
Raven chuckled, and stood. “He’s not wrong about eating, though. I’ll have Melanie fetch us something from the canteen. What would you like?”
“Ribs?” he asked hopefully.
“Do you honestly think we serve ribs here?”
“Well I ain’t eatin’ a cucumber sandwich or any rabbit food shit like that.”
“Shepherd, do you have an old lady?”
“No. Why?”
“Only curious. Though I’m afraid some mysteries solve themselves.”
“I…hey!”
Raven would love to say that she never expected him to become her brother-in-law, but is that really true?
“Hm.” Cass nodded. “Who’d have thought Shep was an Army field medic, huh?” She cracked a fleeting grin, tinged with affection. It quickly faded. “Good thing he knew how to put in an IV and stuff.”
And dress wounds properly, though neither of them mentioned that.
“You like him, don’t you?” Raven asked. “Shepherd?”
Another smile, reflexive, automatic, and then Cass’s head whipped around and her eyes got big. “No, not like – like like him. He’s just…” When Raven grinned she scrunched up her nose. “I dunno. He acts like a right arsehole most of the time, but he’s decent. To me, anyway. He kept me company while you were…away.”
**Noise ebbed and flowed downstairs; creak of the front door, call of male voices, answer of Joanna fussing and running someone out of the kitchen; bright peal of Cassandra’s laughter, and an answering, masculine bark that sounded like Shep; dear God, don’t let him be the Dog Cassandra finally settled on.
If you haven't read Nothing More, you'll need to know all about Toly and Raven, and Shep, before you dive into Beware of Dog!
I am LOVING Shep!
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