Читать книгу Too Hot to Handle - Victoria Dahl - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

GRACE FROZE IN THE ACT of sliding a perfect smudge of black liner across her lash line and aimed a hot glare in Merry’s direction. “What do you mean Shane’s coming over?”

Merry stared in wonder. “How do you do that?” she asked for the hundredth time since she’d met her best friend. “I don’t get it. When I put eyeliner on, I look like a five-year-old playing dress up. Or an eighty-year-old alcoholic trying to recapture her glory days.”

“Close your eyes.” Grace scooted Merry around and swiped the pencil quickly over her lids. “There. I’ve shown you a million times. Now tell me why Shane’s coming over.”

When she opened her eyes, Merry sighed at the sight that greeted her. Her plain brown irises now looked large and whiskey-colored. At least she was living with Grace right now. She could use her friend like a personal makeup artist whenever she wanted. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that Merry’s liner would be smudged and smeared within an hour. Her body rejected any transplants of prettiness.

“I need a carpenter,” she said as she fluttered her lashes at herself. Then she looked from Grace’s hair—gorgeous, choppy and recently brightened with chunks of Crayola red color—to her own. Plain brown and slightly dented from the ponytail she’d worn that morning. God.

“So?” Grace asked.

“Shane’s a carpenter. I’m hoping he’ll give me the Stud Farm discount.”

“The Stud Farm discount,” Grace muttered. “I don’t like the sound of that at all. I think I should hang around.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I promise not to get into your vodka stash.”

“I’ll call Cole and tell him to pick me up later.”

“You will not. First of all, Cole’s going to die when he sees that red in your hair. And by die, I mean he’s going to jump on you like a cowboy riding a stubborn bronco.”

“Nice.”

“Secondly, what’s your problem with Shane?”

Grace shrugged and leaned forward to finish her makeup. “I don’t know. He’s slick. Too removed. I can’t read him.”

“I think he’s nice.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m hanging around. You think everyone is nice.”

“I do not,” Merry denied. “And even if I did, you have nothing to worry about. He didn’t even remember who I was. I doubt he’s currently concocting a plan to seduce me and steal my virginity as a trophy.”

Grace snorted. “What virginity?”

“The one I regrew after two years of celibacy.”

“A good sex toy should take care of that.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Merry groaned. “I’m pitiful.”

“No, you’re not. You’re safe and picky which is exactly how I want you to be.”

“I’m not picky. I’m just not on the radar. Anyone’s radar. I’m the government’s top-secret stealth snatch project.”

Grace burst into an uncharacteristically hearty laugh. Merry just stuck her tongue out and flounced out of the bathroom.

“I’m serious about Shane,” Grace said, following her to the living room. She pulled on a pair of black boots that would have looked clunky and mannish on Merry, but somehow looked both tough and adorable on Grace. “Watch out for him. He can be charming.” She drew the word out like it was a smear. “And take off that eyeliner. You look too cute.”

“You can scrub this liner off my cold, dead body. Actually that won’t be necessary, because it’ll melt off within the hour.”

“Use that primer I gave you.”

“Sure,” Merry said, instead of telling her friend that she’d tried the primer and somehow she couldn’t get it blended right and ended up looking like she was wearing sparkly white goggles.

“Don’t get charmed,” Grace warned, pointing a finger at Merry’s chest. “I’m serious. I don’t want to have to murder my boyfriend’s best friend. Okay?”

A knock interrupted their conversation. Merry went out to say hello to Cole, but for a moment he was overwhelmingly distracted by Grace’s hair.

“Hi, Merry,” he said, his gaze locked on his girlfriend with an intensity no man had ever had for Merry.

“Hi, Cole. Grace’s hair looks great, huh?”

“Hell, yeah, it does.” Grace kicked him, and for a moment his gaze only got more intense. Then he blinked and visibly shook it off. His easy smile appeared and he turned to Merry. “How’s the ghost town, darlin’?” he asked, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I still don’t like you out there on your own.”

“I studied all the wildlife guides you gave me. If a rattlesnake comes near, I can identify it in less than two seconds, I swear.”

He winked. “Good.”

“You know, you two are actually worse than having parents. My mom was never this overprotective.”

Cole patted her arm. “I’ve never had a little sister.”

“I’m not your sister! Jeez. Now go show your girlfriend how much you like the new red hair. I’ll see you later.”

Cole dragged his woman out the door, but Grace leaned back in for one last warning. “Watch out for that guy.”

“I promise it won’t be a problem!” she huffed.

It never was. Men were always disappointingly respectful of her. She locked the door behind Grace and then wandered back to the bathroom to put on some lip gloss and brush out her hair. Thanks to Grace’s professional skills with the eye makeup, Merry looked almost nice. And the Oscar the Grouch T-shirt really set off her complexion.

Just as she was thinking of changing, there was another knock on the door, which helpfully saved her from the decision of which Darth Vader T-shirt she was going to choose.

She opened the door with a wide smile that she felt freeze on her face when she saw Shane Harcourt.

He’d definitely taken that shower. The thick stubble that had shadowed his face had been shaved off to reveal his hard jaw, and his dark hair was still pressed to his nape in damp strands.

“Hi, Merry,” he said, and she had the distinct feeling he was proving that he remembered her name this time. Not very flattering. When she’d visited Jackson last fall, they’d spent three hours together at Grace’s birthday party. Not enough time to make an impression on him, apparently.

“You look like you’re feeling a lot better,” she said, waving him in.

“I am, thanks. And sorry about earlier.” He flashed that charming smile she’d heard about. “I was dead on my feet.”

“Yeah, you looked like a cattle rustler who’d been on the run for weeks.”

His smile wavered. She had a way of doing that to men. “So where’s the bookshelf?”

“Ha. There is no bookshelf.”

“What?” He turned in a slow circle, looking over the apartment. “You said you wanted help with a bookshelf.”

She let her eyes wander down to his ass while he wasn’t looking. Cowboys were so sweet, the way they never wore those awful baggy jeans. And Shane was especially sweet, generously showing off his tight, muscular ass in a dark pair of Levi’s.

She cleared her throat. “No, you said I wanted help with a bookshelf.”

“All right. So what’s going on?” He sounded suspicious, probably worried she was going to try to make a move. It was so uncomfortable when you had to fight off the girl next door.

“Why don’t we sit down?”

Still looking wary, he took a seat on the couch. He’d look even warier if he knew he was sitting on her bed. Merry smothered a grin as she sat next to him. “I need a carpenter for a bigger job than a few shelves.”

“Yeah? You might want to rethink any remodeling. I doubt Rayleen would approve. She’s a pretty strict landlord.”

“I wouldn’t dare cross Rayleen,” Merry answered, shuddering a little at the idea of pissing off Grace’s crazy great-aunt. “I actually do need you to remodel something, but it’s not an apartment. It’s a ghost town.”

“A ghost town?” Shane sat straight and blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the disbelief on his face. “I know it sounds crazy. But it really is a ghost town. It’s called Providence. Have you heard of it?”

“I…I think so.”

“It’s north of the Gros Ventre. I was hired to get it ready to be a public exhibit.”

“You?”

Was the whole town conspiring to destroy her confidence? “Yes, me. Listen, it’s going to be spectacular! Really. It may sound strange to say a ghost town is exciting, but I’m so excited!”

“Yeah, I see that.”

Merry realized she’d clasped her hands together and leaned closer to him. “It’s an amazing place. Truly. The most beautiful place you’ve ever seen. If you take the job, you’ll see—”

“Take what job?”

“I want to hire you to start the restoration.”

Shane sat back. He stared at her for a long moment before he let his head fall to rest on the couch. His gaze bore into the ceiling. “You want to hire me.”

“Well, I don’t know a lot of carpenters in Jackson.” Or anywhere else. “And!” She rushed on, not wanting to offend him, “You’re Cole’s best friend, so that’s all the recommendation I need.”

“Merry…” His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and she wondered if he was still too tired to think. “I’m sorry, but I’m a little lost here. What exactly are you doing here and why are you working in Providence?”

“Oh! Right. You missed the first few weeks of this. Well, I’ve been keeping an eye on jobs in Jackson for a while now. I loved it when I came out to visit Grace, and I wanted to be closer to her, of course.” And my mom bought a one-bedroom condo and hung out a Do Not Disturb sign. “Unfortunately I don’t ski. Or know anything about skiing. Or even know enough to pretend to know something about skiing. So that career route was closed.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“But when I saw this job pop up… It was serendipity. I’d been working at a local historical museum for a year, remember?” Of course he didn’t remember, but he made an affirmative sound. “So I applied and…” She didn’t want to finish the story this time. It no longer made her happy. Her pulse still sped, but it wasn’t with excitement and pride. It was anger fueling her now. And embarrassment. And just a tiny pinch of desperation. She hoped he couldn’t hear that part of it. “Here I am!” she finished with a bright smile.

“Here you are. And you want me to help get your ghost town ready for display.”

He didn’t sound excited. In fact, he looked downright weary. His eyes were closed again, and she was sure she could already see stubble forming beneath the skin of his jaw. “Are you okay, Shane?” She reached out to put her palm to his forehead, only registering that she might be invading his personal space when he jumped and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Sorry. You just seem out of sorts.”

“I’m fine,” he said in a clipped voice that made her wonder about this slick charm Grace was worried about. Apparently Merry didn’t merit charm. Or slickness. But that wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was a man with a hammer.

“So will you do it?”

He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re asking.” Before she could figure out what he meant, he cleared his throat and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Summer is my busy season. I only have a few months to get all the outdoor work in, and there’s a lot of it.”

“Oh. Right. I didn’t think of that.” Her heart sank. She’d had a very clever idea to pay a carpenter out of her own salary, only it suddenly didn’t seem quite so clever. Shane was booked up for the summer. That was why he’d looked like he’d been riding the trail for a month. Everybody else was probably overworked, too. Which meant they’d have no reason to go for her half now/half later payment proposal. “Shit,” she whispered, falling back to collapse into the fat cushions of the couch.

“Plus, I don’t know anything about restoration. That sounds like a specialty job.”

“This part is pretty straightforward,” she murmured. “I need the porch on the saloon fixed. It’s not safe right now, and it’s my favorite building. I think it’ll be a real draw. There weren’t a lot of saloons around here back then, since a lot of the settlers were Mormon. I’ve read some great stories about that place.”

“You’ve got a saloon right next door,” he said, waving his hand toward the Crooked R, where old Rayleen reigned like a not-quite-benevolent queen.

She shrugged. “It’s not the same.”

“Look, you just started. It’s the busy season for everyone in construction. You’re going to have to be content with taking your time. Nothing is going to happen this year. My advice is to sit tight and plan for next year.”

Oh, God. The idea of spending months like this… She’d run out of things to do during the winter. She could start building a website, maybe, but that wouldn’t take more than a month, and she couldn’t even make it live, because Providence was currently too dangerous to have curious visitors poking around.

Maybe she could design the signs that would eventually be posted on each building. Yes, that would be fun. Then she could put them in storage for two years until the first of the buildings was restored. Maybe in five years they could have a ribbon cutting ceremony, assuming the whole thing hadn’t been shut down due to a lawsuit.

No, she had to make this work, starting right now. She had to make this a success before the board realized their ploy wasn’t having an effect on the lawsuit and they let her go. Or until the lawsuit was dropped and they decided to bring a real curator in.

“I have to move forward,” she said. “Do you know anyone who could help, even if it’s just for a few hours a week? Please?”

“What exactly are your plans? Just to nail a few boards up and start charging tourists?”

“No! It’s not like that. There won’t even be a charge, just a donation box. I just need…” Affirmation. Progress. Proof that I’m not a loser. “It’s a wonderful place and people don’t even know it’s there. I want to start sharing it with the community.” Well, that was true, too. It had been even more true yesterday. “It’s an important part of the history of this place,” she finished feebly.

She glanced over, hoping to see sympathy on his handsome face. What she found instead was frustration. Or anger. But no, it had to be frustration. He was just a little…intimidating. And still not the least bit charming about it. Cole was so damn laid-back she couldn’t imagine him being close with Shane, but maybe that was what drew them together.

Shane hadn’t been quite so gruff at Grace’s birthday party, though. She’d thought he was cute then. Really cute. Oh, hell, he was still really cute; he just made her nervous as hell. Same as every other cute guy.

“Maybe I could stop by on a few evenings,” he finally said, pronouncing each word slowly, carefully.

“Really?” Merry squealed. When he nodded, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He seemed too startled to hug her back. “Thank you! Thank you! Do you want to check it out? We can go right now.”

“Right now?”

“Sure. We’ve still got two hours of daylight left. Let’s scoot out there so you know what you’re working with.”

His gaze drifted toward the right as if he were looking through the wall toward the Crooked R and its cold pitchers of beer.

“I’ll buy you a beer when we get back,” she offered in her most flirtatiously tempting voice.

“I’m fine,” he said flatly. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Her triumph tasted strangely like burnt pride, but she just smiled wider. “Great. I’ll grab my keys.”

* * *

HE’D INSISTED ON FOLLOWING Merry in his own truck. Or rather, she thought he was following, but he knew exactly where the Providence ghost town was. His dad had brought him out here dozens of times when Shane had been a kid. They’d spent whole days in the area, and sometimes nights in a tent next to the narrow creek that snuck through the piles of boulders at the mouth of the canyon.

As a kid, he’d thought of Providence as desolate and a little spooky. A place that people had abandoned. Walked away from. But that desolation had lent it a bit of reverence in his mind. To a kid, it had felt sacred and deliciously forgotten. Not a place to be turned into another tourist playground. Jesus, weren’t there enough of those around here?

Now, as the town came into view, with its familiar graying roof peaks and crumbling walls, he didn’t feel reverence. He felt…nothing. Nothing except irritation that it was causing him inconvenience.

He watched Merry glance in her rearview mirror as he followed her around the last curve of the dirt road. She’d looked into her mirror a lot on the drive, as if making sure he hadn’t ditched her.

Shit. He’d been gruff. He knew that. But she’d blindsided him with her news. Merry was just the out-of-town friend of Grace. She was a nice girl who smiled too much and wore goofy T-shirts and didn’t seem to fit with her wild, tough friend from L.A. How had she suddenly become a next-door neighbor who was asking him to help her ruin his childhood haunt?

When she stopped, he pulled in behind her on a wide patch of dirt and got out. She was nearly bouncing on her toes when he joined her. “Isn’t it amazing?” she squealed.

“It looks like a bunch of falling down shacks.”

“That’s because you don’t know the history! What people went through to build this place, the lives they dug out from the dirt, the tragedies that drove them away. This place is alive, Shane. It’s just…sleeping.”

“More like mummifying,” he muttered, but she ignored him and grabbed his arm.

“Come on. I’ll show you the saloon. It’s really in pretty good shape, aside from the porch.”

Shane let her pull him along and tried to ignore a sense of déjà vu as he got closer to the first buildings. Her excitement was contagious, in the sense that it dispersed through the air like an infection that coated his skin, contaminating him with the phantom touch of the excitement he used to feel here. The mystery of the place. The snakes and lizards that would dart out from underneath foundations. The wonder of who’d walked here before, lawmen and outlaws and all sorts of people who’d never actually set foot in Providence. Of course, he’d been a child. He wasn’t sure what Merry’s excuse was, but he didn’t like the feel of it, and he rolled his shoulders to shake it off.

“Here it is,” she said. Her words weren’t necessary. Even if he hadn’t known it was the saloon, there was an ancient sign propped on the porch.

“So this is pretty good shape?” he asked.

“Yeah. Look at the mercantile next door.”

He moved closer to the porch and shook his head. “I can’t just fix it with new wood, Merry. This is a big deal. You’ll want to use old wood. Wood that’s been reclaimed and—”

“I know all that! I’m not a complete amateur. I can take care of everything. I just need your help.”

Shane turned and looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time since she’d asked him for help. He looked past the smile, past the sweet round face and slightly tanned cheeks flushed with pink. Her brown eyes were unremarkable…except that if you took the time to look, they showed everything she was feeling. And right now, she was feeling worried.

“What’s going on here, Merry?”

“What do you mean? I’m hiring a carpenter. You. I’m doing my job.”

“So you own this place? You can do whatever you want?” He knew damn well that wasn’t the situation, but he needed to find out her angle.

Instead of answering his question, Merry shifted, then crossed her arms and walked farther down the road. Interesting. Shane followed. When she stopped and turned around, all traces of worry were gone and she looked cool as a cucumber.

“I think we should approach this in tiers. First, I need to know if the building is safe. The floors. The ceilings. If it’s not safe, I need to know how much it would cost to make it safe. That’s step one. Second, I’d like to see the most obvious repairs made. The sagging porch. Holes in the ceiling. That sort of thing. Lastly, I need to know how much a restoration would cost.”

“A restoration? Merry, I don’t have time for—”

“I get that. But we’re not talking a full restoration. It would still need to be ghost-towny. No one wants to come to a ghost town and see a shiny saloon.”

“Ghost-towny,” he repeated wearily. “That an official term?”

“It is now. There’s a shed at the east end of the town that’s full of wood already reclaimed from collapsed buildings. No new wood, right? Just watch out for spiders.” She shivered. “I try not to go into the shed. It’s pretty chock full of spiders. It’s like…a spider anthill.”

“A…?” Realizing he was only going to be drawn deeper into her strange mind if he said any more, Shane shook his head and dropped the subject. “Okay. I guess you have thought this through.”

“Yes. It’s my job.” Her chin rose a little, as if daring him to dispute it. She wasn’t smiling now. Strangely her mouth looked wider in repose. More full and mysterious.

Shane rocked back on his heels, put his hands in his pockets, taking a little time to look over the ragged buildings around him. “When are you planning on opening this place, Merry?”

“Next year,” she answered, her chin edging higher.

Next year. Shane couldn’t let that happen. He had to stop this. “All right, then,” he offered with a smile. “I’ll do what I can.”

All her false bravado disappeared and she was hopping up and down like a kid again. “You will? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Shane!” She threw herself at his chest, and Shane automatically put his arms around her. He also automatically registered how nice and feminine she smelled, a stark change from the men he’d worked with on his two weeks of ranch work. Then he very carefully set her back.

“I’m going to take a look at that spare wood. Do you want to walk over with me?”

“No! The spider anthill, remember?”

“Right.” God, she was a piece of work. But she had information he needed, so Shane touched his hat brim and nodded. “I’ll deal with the spiders on my own. And then I’ll take a look at your saloon.”

“Thank you!” she squealed, and he tried not to feel guilty as he walked away. Merry had stepped into something that she couldn’t understand, and that wasn’t Shane’s fault. He set his jaw and walked on.