Marrying Money. SUSAN MEIER
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he had while dancing with her came flooding back.
Tanner completely forgot about Artie and Emma Thorpe. He forgot he didn’t belong in this town. He forgot that half the congregation was undoubtedly watching him. All he could do was stare at Bailey and remember the fluttering in his stomach when he looked at her, when he danced with her.
She turned to walk into the pew she had chosen and caught sight of Tanner and his parents. Tanner’s mother gave Bailey the subtle, fingers-only wave women used for a greeting when they were trying to be discreet, and Bailey returned the smile and the wave, her gaze straying to Tanner.
He almost sighed with relief, because from the look in her eyes it was obvious she found him attractive, too. But when it appeared hard for her to pull her gaze away from his, the fluttering in his stomach flared again. By the time she sat down and the service started, Tanner not only forgot all about the pain of the past, he had shifted back into his normal way of looking at things. His rule of thumb was to make the best of the life he had, not pine for the one he’d lost. And right now he had a sixth sense that fate was handing him the chance to spend some time with an absolutely stunning, unpretentious woman. He almost grinned. Life was incredibly good to him.
He actually found himself timing the sermon with growing irritation. Reverend Daniels seemed to be in a particularly talkative mood. With every five-minute segment that ticked off on Tanner’s watch, his squirming grew more evident. But because Bailey’s squirming grew more evident, too, he was absolutely positive they would literally run into each other’s arms at the end of the service. However, when the good pastor finally let them go, Bailey exploded from the church and scrambled to her car…not to him.
Standing on the church steps, too far away to even hope to catch her, Tanner had to forcefully stop himself from cursing out loud.
“Hey, Tanner.”
Tanner turned to see Artie and Emma and three little blond munchkins huddled around them, looking as if they were velcroed to their parents’ knees. With thoughts of Bailey still clouding his brain, he automatically smiled his public-relations smile and extended his hand to Artie. “Hi, Artie,” he said, shaking his hand. “Emma,” he added, nodding to his ex-wife. “Who are these guys?”
“I’m Sam,” the first child said, then he sniffed.
“Oh, darn,” Emma said, sounding exasperated. “We forgot his allergy medicine this morning.”
Sam sniffed more loudly. “That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, Samuel Eugene Thorpe,” Emma said. A tall beauty, with red hair and porcelain skin, Emma made a pretty picture as a mother. “You might not like to take those pills, but you need them!” She faced Tanner again. “I’m sorry, Tanner, but we’ve got to go.”
“Hey, never let it be said that I stood in the way of proper child care.”
“How long are you in town?” she asked, studying him cautiously.
Tanner’s gaze strolled in the direction Bailey’s SUV had taken and then he pulled it back to his ex-wife. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” Emma said carefully, glancing at her husband who was talking to Dave Banister, one of the town’s two councilmen. “I think you and I need to talk. There’s some stuff—”
“After ten years,” Tanner interrupted. “I doubt it, Emma.”
He hadn’t intended to be so cool or so cruel, but those darned memories crept up on him when he didn’t want them to. Ten years ago she had her say and she had succinctly told him what a terrible husband he was. And he agreed. As a husband, he was a washout. But right now he didn’t need to be reminded that the prettiest girl from his high school class had dumped him. Especially not when the pretty beautician who currently intrigued him—the woman he instinctively knew was the one he was supposed to be spending time with—wouldn’t give him that time, probably because she’d heard the rumors about his divorce. Again this confirmed what Emma had said the day she asked him to leave: in New York, he could do absolutely anything he wanted. In West Virginia his past haunted him. After he got to Florida, he would send Emma flowers with an apology to make up for his rudeness, but right now he just wanted to go home.
Luckily, his parents were starving and had done a lot of socializing last night so they’d all headed back to the house. Feeling spurned by Bailey without a real chance to explain himself or his intentions, Tanner wasn’t surprised that he devised a plan to see her while his mother was putting the finishing touches on lunch. And it also didn’t surprise him when he left the house with a mumbled apology before the food was served. Because he really wasn’t hungry. He felt like a man with a mission. Not that he was going to force Bailey to go out with him or even to pay attention to him. He had never had to use manipulation or coercion with a woman. And he was sure that, given an opportunity to see that he wasn’t a bad guy—he was just a sort of transient guy—Bailey wouldn’t have to be forced, either.
After rushing to her apartment to change into jeans and a T-shirt, and racing to her parents’ house to have a quick lunch with her family, Bailey hurried to her shop. But when she arrived it wasn’t to discover a line of impatient, flat-haired women awaiting her. Bailey only found Tanner McConnell on the top step leading to her salon door. He was handsome enough that even dressed in simple jeans and a plain white polo shirt, with his short sandy-brown hair ruffled by the June breeze and his green eyes clear and direct, watching her every move as she exited her SUV, the man could stop women’s hearts. But not hers. She had already had this conversation with herself.
She frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I want you to comb out my up-do.”
He said it so sincerely that Bailey giggled. “You don’t have an up-do. In fact, you could never get an up-do. Your hair is too short.”
“You want to restyle it?” he asked hopefully.
She shook her head. “No. It’s fine the way it is…great actually.”
He smiled. “Really? You like it? I mean, that’s your professional opinion?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Whoever styled your hair knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Roberto will be relieved I’m sure.”
“Good. Go call him now to tell him, because I have work to do.”
“You’re blowing me off again.”
Fumbling with her keys, she managed the dual purpose of avoiding his eyes and unlocking her shop. “No, I’m not.”
“Good, then trim my hair. Leave the style just like Roberto has it, but take off that annoying fraction of an inch or so that keeps getting in my way.”
Leading him into the spotlessly clean shop, she said, “You’re not serious.”
“Is this a hair salon?” he asked, looking around at the four black stylists chairs, low-bowled chrome sinks and white-hooded dryers.
She nodded.
“Are you open for business?”
This time Bailey sighed. She knew she had no choice but to do what he wanted. Because if she told him she wasn’t open and one of her regulars came by to get rid of her day-old curls from the celebration, Bailey wouldn’t be able to take her in. At this point, with a huge business loan and customers not quite sure if they wanted to be loyal to the shop or try their luck somewhere else, Bailey couldn’t afford to offend anyone.
“I’m open.”
“Okay, then. I want my hair trimmed.”
She directed Tanner to sit on her salon chair, and pulled out the big black cape she used to cover the clothes of customers. She draped it over his white polo shirt and jeans. “I see you went home and changed after church, like I did.”
“Is that where you went?” he asked casually, but from the looks he had given her all through the service Bailey knew