Victoria Dahl - Too Hot to Handle

“Hi!” a woman who was definitely not Grace said.

He took in the tall brunette in the Oscar the Grouch T-shirt and automatically touched the brim of his hat in greeting. “Morning,” he said.

“It’s afternoon now,” she answered.

“Is it?” He realized he was just standing there staring while she grinned at him. Her long dark hair framed a harmless round face and an open smile. “Do I know you?”

“Seriously? Wow. I’m kind of insulted.”

Shane’s brain scanned quickly through the past few sexual encounters he’d had, just in case. But there weren’t that many, and he was almost immediately sure he hadn’t slept with this girl. “Sorry?”

“Shane, I’m Merry.”

Mary? He stared.

“Merry Kade. Grace’s friend?”

“Oh,” he said. Then “Oh! Merry. Right. Hi.”

Her wide smile had faltered at some point, so Shane tried again. “It’s good to see you. Are you visiting?”

“No, I moved here. I’m living with Grace for a little while.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Good.” His eyes nearly crossed with exhaustion.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re finally back. You’re a carpenter cowboy, right?”

“I’m just a carpenter, not a cowboy.”

“Sure you are.” She waved a hand up and down his body. “Look at those boots. And the hat.”

“Being a cowboy is a job. It’s got nothing to do with the boots.”

She looked pointedly at his Stetson.

“Or the hat,” he said wearily.

“Okay, but you are a carpenter.” When he nodded, her smile returned, lighting up her fresh face. “You’re just what I need!”

Too tired to bother with a sly reply, Shane just nodded. “Need some help with a bookshelf or something?”

She laughed so loudly that her voice rang through the entry. “Sure, something like that.”

He forced a smile. “Okay, I’ll come by later. Right now—” He held up a hand to stop the words forming on her lips. “Listen, I’ve been working twelve-hour days for two weeks. I would normally come over straightaway and assemble your shelf, but I’m swaying on my feet and my eyes can’t focus. All I can even consider is a microwave burrito, a quick shower and then ten hours of sleep. Actually scratch the shower. That’ll wait.”

Her eyes flickered down before she blinked a few times. “Sure. It’s no problem. The shelf can wait. You sleep. And eat. And shower.”

“Thanks, um…Merry. I’ll come over later.” He pushed through the door and nearly stumbled over a thick envelope that must have been slipped through the old mail slot that no one used anymore. When he spotted his lawyer’s name printed across the top, Shane picked it up and set it on a table to open later. He didn’t need to think about that bullshit right now. The only thing worse would be trying to navigate a conversation with his mother. He couldn’t think coherently about even the simplest thing, such as being polite to an acquaintance.

He turned, meaning to apologize to Merry before he closed the door, but she was gone, the only evidence she’d been there the sound of Grace’s door clicking shut.

“Shit.” He’d go over to Grace’s as soon as he’d showered tonight. But first… He locked the door, shucked off his boots, forgot about lunch and headed for bed to collapse.

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!”