Too Hot to Handle. Victoria Dahl
certainly weren’t any honest words he could give. After all, his future lay in the promise that Providence wouldn’t happen. That it would continue to be nothing more than dead wood and tumbleweeds. But Merry had something to prove now.
Shit.
“I’m sorry they brought you here under false circumstances, but you’re doing a good job, regardless. The brochure looks great.”
“Right. And I was smart enough to hire you.”
The watery smile she aimed in his direction was like a twisting knife in his gut. Hiring him could, in fact, get her fired. But only if the board found out.
“Look, I admire your enthusiasm for this. And whatever is going on with the board isn’t your fault. Why don’t you consider my work on the saloon a gift.”
“No! I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me. You deserve to be paid. I’ll win them over.”
Not by tossing his name around, she wouldn’t. “I’ll call it pro bono work. Giving something back to the community.” Or just helping himself.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Now there were definitely tears in her eyes. “I can’t…”
“Come on, Merry. We’re neighbors. It’s no big deal.”
But apparently it was a big deal to her. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Shane felt schizophrenic; half of his brain registering the soft, warm press of her breasts to his chest, the other half telling him he was a selfish, lying asshole and she was going to regret any kind feelings she had for him.
But when he settled his hands on her back, the more noble thoughts disappeared, because damn, she was warm and nice under his touch. The cotton was a smooth expanse of heat, reinforcing his knowledge that she was naked beneath this thin fabric. And fuck, she smelled delicious. Like fresh soap and some spicy, feminine scent that made him feel a little dizzy. Dizzy and…hard.
Damn.
He pulled back and cleared his throat, hoping like hell she wouldn’t notice the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans.
“Thank you, Shane,” she said, sniffing back tears while he tried to keep his eyes off her breasts.
“You’re welcome.”
“Want another beer?”
He said yes in the hopes that his dick would give up its vigil by the time she came back, but he took the beer happily enough when she returned with it.
“Did you grow up here?” she asked as she plopped back into her crooked seat. He forced his eyes to stay on her face.
“I did. Did you grow up in Texas?” he asked, changing the focus. He never liked talking about his family, but especially in this case, it was a topic best left alone.
“Kind of. My mom is a bit of a hippie. She was raised in a tiny town in Northern California. I was born there, and we lived in a few different places while I was growing up. But I spent the last ten years of my childhood in Texas.”
“And your dad?”
“Never met him,” she said cheerfully. “It was just me and my mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no big deal. I think I was better off than my friends who had asshole fathers, you know? I was scared of dads when I was young. They always seemed to be yelling about something.”
Shane considered her theory. His dad had been pretty decent, though obviously flawed, but maybe he and Alex would’ve been better off if their father had never even been around. Maybe it would’ve been better than thinking your dad loved you until you woke up one day to realize he didn’t give a shit after all. At least Merry could tell herself her dad’s disappearance had nothing to do with her. But Shane had been left to wonder.
“So your mom was a hippie. That’s how you got the name Merry?”
“Of course. When I was born, she looked into my eyes and said she could tell I was a happy soul.”
“You are.”
“I suppose I am,” she said so cheerfully that Shane chuckled. “It would’ve been so awkward if I wasn’t.”
Shane thought of Grace and the way she fought hard against her moniker, but he didn’t point that out to Merry. “So you had a happy life.”
“Oh, you know. You make the best of things.”
“What things?”
She waved her beer dismissively. “Tough times. Bad neighborhoods. But you learn to make friends with everyone, and any place can be a home. My mom is great, though. She worked so hard to make our life better.”
Suddenly Shane had a completely different take on this girl. She seemed carefree and goofy and sheltered. But now he couldn’t help but read between the lines. No dad around. A single mom who probably had to work one or two jobs at a time to put food on the table. And Merry trying to find her way.
“I’ve never lived anywhere but here,” he said. “I can’t imagine.”
“It’s different, living in a big city. I can’t deny that. But people are all the same, really. There’s good and bad everywhere. But considering that people are all the same, I have to say that the scenery is pretty damn awesome here. There’s really no reason for you to go anywhere else.”
“That’s a relief. I can’t say I’m inclined to.”
“How did you become a carpenter? Was your dad a carpenter?”
“No, my uncle was. I started working with him when I was twelve.” His dad had been a horse trainer and rancher, but Shane left that off.
“Hey, I got my first job at twelve, too! A taco joint.”
“You can work in a restaurant at twelve?”
“You can if you’ve just hit a growth spurt and they pay you cash under the table. I was so excited to have spending money, I don’t even think I kept track of how much they paid me. Three dollars an hour, probably. One of the perks of hiring child laborers.”
“Well, you were smarter than I was. My uncle figured I was earning an education. I didn’t get paid anything. But that’s typical for rural kids. You work the farm or ranch for the privilege of learning the life.”
“That’s so cool.”
Shane smiled. “It’s pretty damn boring, actually. Hanging around leathery old men all day. It can be torturous when you’re a teenager and there are never any girls around. The ones that are nearby are all mooning for the guys on the junior rodeo circuit.”
Merry gasped. “You did that, didn’t you?”
“Did what?”
She pointed a finger at his chest. “You did rodeo stuff. You saw all the girls paying attention to those boys and you joined the rodeo, didn’t you?”
Shane laughed. Hard. “First off, you don’t join the rodeo like you join the circus. But…yes, I may have tried a little calf roping in my day.”
“See, you are a cowboy!” She poked him, then her gaze drifted down to his chest, and she poked him one more time as if she were testing his give. She drew her hand back slowly.
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw how badly I lost to the real cowhands. And I discovered that it wasn’t just being a rodeo cowboy that got you attention from girls, but actually doing well at it. Rodeo losers are no different than other losers. Although…if you get injured, there are some girls who like playing nurse.”
“Oh, my God! Dirty!”
Something about her saying the