Charm School For Cowboys. Meg Maxwell
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yes, but when I picked her up she marched up to my truck and said she expected I’d at least clean up some and she couldn’t very well go to lunch with me looking like I just came off a mountain after fifteen years. She went right back in her house.”
Huh. That must have made Grizzle feel awful. But the man really did need a haircut. The wild gray-brown hair was long, wiry and stuck up in every direction, and the beard did the same.
He stared off into the middle distance for a moment, then sighed and dropped down on the stool at the back of the stall. “You want to know the last time I cut my hair and shaved and wore a suit and tie?”
“Yes,” Emma said.
“My wife’s funeral. Hell, I don’t ever want to look like that again. I don’t ever want to be reminded of that day.” His face tightened and he stared down at the hay on the floor.
Oh, Grizzle. “I understand. The day my mother died, my hair was in a braid and I was wearing sparkly blue nail polish. I’ve not been able to braid my hair or wear blue polish since.” Violet Hurley’s lovely face came to mind and she missed her mother so fiercely, again wishing more than anything she were there. “I definitely understand the sentiment. Being reminded of who you were on a particular day.”
Grizzle glanced up at her, nodded, then let out a breath. “It’s not like anyone could hold a candle to Liza, anyway. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Well, no one will ever be Liza, but someone will light up your heart regardless. You asked out the librarian for a reason. You must find her attractive.”
He shrugged. “Only reason I asked her out is that she’s tall, like me. Tallest woman in Blue Gulch. You’re tall, and she’s got three or four inches on you. I’m six-four.”
Emma laughed. “Well, maybe you’ll meet another tall woman at the dance. Someone who has other attributes you find appealing too.”
He shrugged. “Not if I don’t clean up, though. No one will even give me a chance.”
“Well, maybe there’s a compromise. A comb instead of scissors. A little hair gel. You could just trim your beard a bit too.”
Grizzle let out quite a snort. “Me with hair gunk? CJ would laugh his head off.”
“Have you seen the amount of hair product in CJ’s hair?” Emma whispered with a grin.
Grizzle chuckled. “Well, maybe. Will you come by the bunkhouse ’bout an hour before the dance and help me?”
“I sure will,” she promised.
“Oh, and, Emma?” Grizzle called as she was leaving. “I don’t actually have a comb. I don’t think Hank or Golden will let me borrow theirs.”
Emma smiled. “I’ll pick one up for you at the drugstore today. I’m going into town for my shift at Hurley’s anyway.”
He nodded at her, and she headed outside. Jake was standing near the open barn doors at the other end, just on the other side of the stall where she’d been talking to Grizzle. He was signing off on papers a man she didn’t recognize was handing him. The guy got into his truck and drove off, and that’s when she noticed the stack of hay bales on the other side of Jake. Hay delivery. She wondered if Jake had heard their conversation. She wasn’t sure if Grizzle would like that.
“Jake?” she said. “I need to head to Hurley’s for my lunch shift, and I thought I’d do the grocery shopping after. You’re very low on fruit. And based on last night and this morning, the fridge and cupboards won’t last more than another couple of days. Could you give me the basics on what everyone likes and if there are any allergies?”
“No picky eaters or allergies among us,” Jake said. “We all pretty much like good basic home cooking. Meat and potatoes, chicken, pasta, fish. Big sandwiches for lunch. The usual for breakfast. The guys love their chips and pretzels.”
“Got it,” Emma said with a smile.
“We also all agree on pie, any kind,” Hank added, coming from the barn. “And chocolate chip cookies, the crunchy kind.”
She smiled again. “On my list. Well, see you at dinner.” She glanced at Jake and found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Dammit. Why was she so drawn to him? The man was good-looking, yes. But it was more than that; there was something about him that made her feel...she didn’t even know. Made her feel what?
Stop staring at the man and get in your car, she ordered herself. She could feel Hank eyeballing her, and given how Hank did seem to catch most things, except his own gaffes when it came to dealing with Fern, apparently, she didn’t want the foreman to think she had a crush on the boss. She hurried to her car and got in. She lowered the windows to let in the gorgeous fresh country air.
Jake jogged over and leaned down, bracing those strong forearms on the window. “Grizzle okay?”
Hmm. Maybe he hadn’t been listening to their conversation. Or maybe he just didn’t want her to think he’d been eavesdropping. Regardless, she loved how much they all seemed to care about one another, despite the ribbing. “He’s letting me at him with a comb before the dance.”
Jake grinned. “Good work. Again.”
She grinned back. “So I suppose you’ll have to go to the dance, after all, given what Hank said about supporting the rancher’s association.”
He groaned. “Well, since it’s bucks’ choice, I have the choice of not asking anyone to dance.”
“I hear ya,” she said. “No thanks. Dances lead to dates lead to kisses lead to more dates lead to relationships and heartache.”
One dark eyebrow raised. “That’s exactly right.”
So why was she suddenly imagining herself in his arms for one sensuous slow dance, his hands on her waist, his body so close she could smell his shampoo?
And why did she like the idea of Jake not asking anyone to dance?
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