“Is that a Lynn creation too?” I ask.
She grins at me. “It is.”
“Need to find you some snazzy red cowgirl boots to go with it.”
“Snazzy, huh?”
I smirk at her. “I said what I said.”
She slides her arms around me and rests her chin on my chest. “You make me so happy.”
“Same, chickadee.” I give her a quick squeeze, then tap her butt. “Time to go.”
At the door, she slips her hand in mine and peers up at me. “I’m really looking forward to snuggling with you later.”
Her words wrap around my heart and squeeze in the best way. “It’s a date.”
Shelby
My eyelids feel like they’ve got sandpaper on the insides. I don’t ask Rooster to find me some eyedrops, though. Then I’ll have to worry about raccoon eyes.
I scan the line of people waiting to meet me.
Just a few more. Then it’s jammy pants and snuggling with my man time.
“Hi there!” I fix a chipper smile on my face and wiggle my fingers at the little girl who steps up to the table next.
Her bottom lip wobbles as she stares up at Jigsaw and Dex standing guard in front of the table. Rooster’s probably right behind me adding to the intimidation factor.
“Guys,” I whisper.
Dex seems to take the hint quicker and steps back. Jiggy smiles down at the girl, which I think only scares her more.
“She’s shy,” the girl’s momma says, batting her eyelashes at Jiggy.
Oh boy.
“Don’t be shy, Shelby doesn’t bite,” he says to the girl.
I stand and step around to the other side, squatting down so I’m eye-level with the little cutie. “Did you enjoy the show?” I ask.
“I made you this.” She thrusts a small, crocheted flamingo doll at me.
“Wow.” I widen my eyes. “You made this?”
She presses her chin into her shoulder, hiding a shy grin. “Well, Grandma helped.”
“That is so sweet. Thank you so much.”
I lift my gaze, searching for someone to take our photo. Jiggy’s busy flirting with the little girl’s mom. “Rooster, can you take a picture of us?” I wave to him.
He scoops my phone off the table and snaps a few shots. Still holding onto the flamingo, I grab one of the glossy photos I’ve been signing. “What’s your name?”
“Kelsey.”
“What a pretty name,” I gush while scrawling a few quick words and my signature.
She crushes the photo to her chest as soon as I hand it over. “Thank you, Shelby.”
The teenage girls who are next in line push ahead as soon as Kelsey takes her momma’s hand.
“Why didn’t you play White Knight,” the one who appears to be the leader of the pack demands.
Startled by the girl’s imperious tone, I stand and walk behind the table to my seat before answering. “We decided to mix up the set list a little,” I say.
“Well, it’s my favorite song.”
You expecting me to sing it on command or something? Where’s this girl’s momma? Lord knows mine would’ve walloped me good if I ever got mouthy with someone when I was a teenager.
“Do you have something for Shelby to sign?” Rooster’s commanding voice seems to shock the girl out of her snit.
“Yes.” One of the other girls pushes her bossy friend out of the way and sets a T-shirt on the table. “Please, Miss Shelby.”
“Sure, honey.” I grab a marker made for signing T-shirts. My mouth curves into a smile when I unfold the shirt and one of Trinity’s flamingo designs stares up at me. “My friend designed these. They’re my favorite,” I say as I scrawl my name under the flamingo’s boot.
“That’s so dope!” she squeals.
I sign shirts for the other two girls. The bratty friend doesn’t want anything signed.
“Aren’t you going to take a picture with us?” she whines.
“Sure.” I jump up, eager to move them along.
Rooster smirks as he takes the girl’s phone and snaps a few shots. Dex must sense my eagerness to get to the next person in line. He steps up and grabs a phone from one of the other girls and takes more photos.
The girls go through the photos and decide they don’t look cute enough and ask for retakes. Part of the job or not, the whole thing’s giving me a ‘dance-monkey-dance’ vibe I don’t care for.
I smile through another round of photos.
“All right,” Rooster bellows, pointing the girls toward the exit. “Next.”
Dex walks them away from the table. I breathe a sigh of relief and paste on a smile for the next person in line.
Chapter Nineteen
Shelby
Even though I’d been dying to crawl into bed after the show, by the time we roll into our campground for the night, I’m wired and wide awake.
Still clutching the flamingo my young fan gave me, I hop out of the truck.
I scan the bikes that pull in behind us. “Where’s Jiggy?” I ask Rooster.
He glances at his phone. “Says he’s stopping at the market. You want anything?”