The Reluctant Bachelorette

by Rachael Anderson

  As if Jessa could get off that easy. As if. “I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a lot harder for that.”

  “What’s it going to take?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Taycee said. “In the meantime, just know that you owe me big-time. We’re talking a go-to-jail-for-me sort of favor.”

  Jessa swirled what was left of her juice. “Are you thinking of doing something drastic that would land yourself in jail?”

  “Maybe.” The idea had merit. Taycee couldn’t be the bachelorette if she were in jail.

  “All right, fine.” Jessa set her juice aside. “So long as it’s not a life sentence. I can only wear those orange jump suits for so long.”

  “You’re impossible.” Taycee fought back a smile. That was Jessa. Dictatorial, overly confident, prideful, yes, but also forthright and funny. There was no one else who could make Taycee laugh at her current situation. Only Jessa—the one person who’d put her there in the first place. Go figure.

  “So really, why do you want Luke off?” A slow grin spread across Jessa’s face. “Methinks you still like him.”

  “No way.” Never, ever, EVER would Taycee admit that to Jessa. Not in this lifetime.

  “It’s the only reason I can think why you’d feel so strongly about it.”

  “If I liked him, why would I want him off?”

  A knowing look appeared in Jessa’s eyes. “Because you’re afraid of getting your heart broken again. Admit it.”

  Again, not in this lifetime. “Please. I was fourteen when he left. You can’t have your heart broken at fourteen.”

  “You did,” Jessa said, her expression pensive. “And you’ve never really gotten over it. That’s why you haven’t been able to seriously date anyone since then, isn’t it?”

  The couch suddenly felt uncomfortable. Taycee shifted positions, mentally adding “too perceptive” to Jessa’s list of faults. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  “Believe it or not, Jessa McCray, sometimes even you can be wrong.”

  Jessa swung her feet to the ground and clasped her fingers together. “Okay, fine, so you don’t want to talk about Luke. I get it.”

  Wow, this was a day for the record books. Not only had Jessa apologized, but she’d even listened and obeyed. She really must be sorry.

  Jessa set her empty glass down with a clink. “So, since Luke is off limits, want to tell me where that ketchup came from now?”

  LUKE WEAVED HIS CART through the narrow aisle of the grocery store, dreading the long night of work still ahead of him. People had made it sound so easy. You graduate, pass the state boards, and then set up a practice of your own. No sweat, right?

  Wrong.

  Business classes weren’t part of the veterinary program, so Luke’s only experience with that aspect of a practice were the two years he’d spent completing a residency in Ohio. Problem was, he’d focused more on the medical side of things and less on the business side.

  Maybe he should have taken the partnership offer. It would have been so much easier to walk into an established practice with established clients and an established billing and filing system. Instead, Luke had turned it down. Not because he didn’t like his boss—the man was amazing—but because he decided to move back to Shelter Springs, with its soaring population of 1,000 and a welcoming sign that read:

  Welcome to Shelter Springs, Colorado!

  (And you thought you were lost.)

  Luke shook his head. He honestly didn’t know what had prompted him to make this move. Maybe he was running away or maybe he was looking for something he’d once had but lost. Either way, he’d made his decision. He passed the Colorado state boards and now here he was, back in Shelter Springs and wondering what in the world he’d been thinking.

  He picked up a can of chili and examined it, and then put it back on the shelf as his mother’s words echoed through his mind. “Always cook fresh, you hear me? Always, always, always!” Oh, Luke had heard all right. But it wasn’t about the health so much as the taste. His mom had been such a good cook that he was now trained to think canned chili tasted nasty. Which was all well and good, but how many times had he been too busy to cook and wanted to open a can of soup or throw in a frozen lasagna for dinner? Too many.

  Thanks to his mom, easy cuisine was now ruined for him.

  Luke frowned, and then forced his tired body toward the produce section. He rounded the corner and stopped when he saw Taycee with her back to him, examining some grapes. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail that swished a little as she moved.

  When Luke had first bumped into her, it was like a “welcome home” banner. Taycee Lynne Emerson still lived in Shelter. Who would have thought? Her being here had given him hope that things really could be like old times. Romping around in the summer. Snowball fights in the winter. The slow, easy-going life he’d come to crave so much the past couple of years.

  Unfortunately, Taycee had changed. Or Luke had. Either way, things were different. The brother/sister relationship they used to have was gone, replaced by a whole lot of something else. Awkward tension mixed with an unexpected attraction. Taycee had always been cute, with her wild dark hair and hazel eyes, but now she was way beyond that. It caught him off guard—as did the way she kept him at a distance. Add to that the fact that she’d volunteered him to date her on some stupid show, only to tell him he was the last guy she’d ever want to date, and he was more confused than ever.

  Taycee opened a bag of green grapes and popped one into her mouth. In a frantic movement, her hand waved in front of her face as she looked around for who knows what. “Blech!” she finally said before pushing the bag of grapes aside and moving on to the apples.

  A woman nearby dropped a package of strawberries in her cart and headed for the grapes, reaching for a bag.

  “Unless you like your grapes on the extreme side of sour, I’d keep on walking,” Taycee told her.

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “No problem.” The woman moved on as Taycee examined an apple, and then dropped it into a sack.

  Luke gave a wry smile and pushed his cart forward. “Aren’t you going to try the apple too? How do you know they’re not sour? Speaking of which, I didn’t realize we could sample the produce before we buy.”

  Taycee stiffened as she slowly turned to face him. “Clive knows I hate sour grapes and told me I could try them whenever I wanted.”

  Luke leaned over to inspect the bananas. They looked ripe, so he tossed a couple into his cart. “Interesting.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Taycee’s bright blue T-shirt made her eyes look almost look blue today. It was something he’d always found fascinating about her. When he stood close, her eyes were a variegated hazel but back away several feet and they seemed to lighten or darken depending on what color she wore or what mood she was in.

  Luke shrugged. “It means I find you interesting. But now that I think about it, it makes sense. You like to sample things first—whether it’s fruit or twenty-one guys, right? A quick date with each of them and then what? You’ll pick the best looking? Richest? Smartest? Strongest?”

  He rested his arms casually across the cart’s handle. “How exactly do you like your men anyway?” He’d meant to goad her a little, but he found that he was pretty interested in her answer. What kind of guys did the grown-up Taycee Lynne go for?

  Her eyes widened initially, but then the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “I like them sweet, like my fruit.” With a hand on her cart, she pushed it away from him. A few steps later, she stopped to look over her shoulder. “You should try the grapes. I bet you’d love them.”

  Luke chuckled. He couldn’t help it. For all her oddities and confusing ways, Taycee Lynne was always good for a laugh. “Hey. One more question before you run off again.”

  Her expression turned wary.

  Luke nodded toward the grapes. “How do you know that grape you tried tasted like all the others? Maybe you just
picked a bad one.”

  She hesitated, as if seriously considering the question. Finally, she said, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that. Night, Luke.” With that, she steered her cart toward the checkout counter.

  Luke watched her go, feeling like she’d just told him something important. Something he should be able to decipher and somehow understand. But whether he was too tired or just plain clueless, he had no idea what she was talking about.

  “JESSA, I HAVE ENOUGH CLOTHES. Please no more. Not today. I’m begging you,” Taycee complained as Jessa dragged her down a bustling Denver street. Her stomach had been growling for the past hour, but did Jessa care? No. When it came to hunger and shopping, shopping took first priority. Every time.

  “Only one more, and then we can get dinner. You’re going to love this place. Totally random and eclectic, but oh the finds I’ve discovered here. It would be a sin to come this close without taking a peek.” Jessa stopped in front of a small shop called Talia’s Treasures and examined a few shirts and skirts that hung from hooks suctioned to the inside of the windows. She gave a satisfied smile, and then yanked the door open and tugged Taycee inside.

  Taycee looked around the dimly lit room. Eclectic was right. Besides several racks of clothing, jewelry hung from stands and plaques from the walls. There were pictures, books, hair accessories—even chocolate covered strawberries—all packed into one tiny space that couldn’t be more than 200 square feet. Cinnamon and vanilla scents wafted through the air, making Taycee’s stomach grumble yet again.

  “Hey, Jess, haven’t seen you around for a few weeks,” said a girl from behind the register. Her skin was a beautiful rich brown and her black hair had a wild look to it, with tight natural curls that splayed around her face.

  Jessa brightened. “Hey, Talia, got anything new for me?”

  Talia’s head bobbed and she held up her index finger. “One sec.” She disappeared into a back room. A moment later she returned, carrying a floral shirt with cap sleeves and rows of ruffles zigzagging down the front. Some earrings dangled from a card in her other hand. “Only the most perfect pair of earrings and a shirt that totally screams your name. I knew you’d want first look.”

  “Oooh, I love it!” Jessa took the shirt and shoved it in Taycee’s arms. “Go try it on.”

  “But this shirt screams your name, not mine.” It wasn’t Taycee’s style at all. Much too frilly and chic.

  “Oh, I think it’s screaming your name now.” Jessa looked in a small mirror resting on the counter and raised the earrings next to her face. “Go, go.”

  “Fine,” said Taycee. “But if I do this—again—you’re paying for dinner.”

  “Done.”

  Taycee followed Talia to a fitting room and pulled the flimsy black curtain closed with a sigh. It wasn’t that she didn’t like shopping or buying the occasional new thing, but Jessa had dragged her out nearly every night during the past two weeks for one reason or another. Shopping, hair appointments, makeup lessons, manicures—it was . . . well, exhausting. Taycee’s once plain wardrobe now consisted of new spring dresses, designer jeans, shorts, blouses, swimwear, and several new pairs of shoes. Enough was enough. Especially with the opening event only two days away.

  Taycee pulled the “screaming” shirt over her head and studied her reflection. Okay, wow, not at all what she’d expected. It fit her well and even tapered in at the waist in a flattering way. Sort of a dressed up casual look.

  Sold.

  Now for the “I told you so.”

  “Well, how is it? Let me see,” Jessa’s voice floated through the curtain.

  Sliding it open, Taycee placed her hands on her hips as she walked from the room, model-like. Or at least as model-like as she could pull off.

  “I was right,” Jessa said, clapping her hands together. “That is so you. You’re definitely getting that one. Talia, you’re brilliant.”

  Taycee smiled. “No argument here. Thanks, Talia.”

  With a wink, Talia leaned against the counter. “Anything for Jessa. I haven’t been open for very long and can’t afford to do much advertising, but so far, Jessa’s word of mouth is all I need.”

  “Well, you now have one more fan,” said Taycee, knowing she’d be back—once she recuperated from shopping jetlag, that is.

  Jessa purchased the earrings and a few additional items for herself before allowing Taycee to drag her to a nearby café for some much needed food. They sat in a corner booth with sandwiches and a shared order of curly fries.

  “We’re done shopping now, right?” Taycee said.

  “You only wish.”

  “C’mon, Jess. I’m starting to feel like a dress-up doll. What more do I need?”

  “I was thinking maybe one more dress. A long, flowing one would look fabulous with those new wedge sandals we got you.”

  Taycee jabbed a fry toward Jessa. “No way, we’re done. My bank account can’t take anymore.” She popped the fry into her mouth and chewed hard.

  “Fine,” Jessa mumbled as she nibbled on her sandwich.

  Some of the stress seeped out of Taycee’s body as she relaxed against her seat. If only she could put her feet up, they ached so badly. “Hey, how about a girls’ night tomorrow?” Taycee suggested. “We can rent a movie and do nothing at all.” It sounded heavenly.

  Jessa’s dangling earrings glinted in the light as her head shook. “Can’t. We have to film your first interview tomorrow.”

  “Interview? What interview?” Jessa had never mentioned anything about an interview.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? We decided to ask you a few questions and get your thoughts before the big event. The viewers will love it.”

  A pit settled in Taycee’s stomach, and suddenly even the curly fries didn’t look so good. She’d mentally prepared to start the entire ordeal on Monday night, not Sunday night. Sacrificing her last night of freedom wasn’t something she was willing to do. “No. No way. If you want to do an interview, you can do it Monday night before all the bachelors show up. Sunday night is mine.”

  “But it’s better to get as much done beforehand as we can.”

  “I don’t care.” Taycee pushed the plate of fries away. “I’m not doing it. I’m not.”

  Jessa eyed the plate before she shrugged and stuffed another fry in her mouth. “Okay, okay, you win. We’ll do a girls’ night instead.”

  Taycee’s eyes narrowed. That was easy. Too easy. What did Jessa have up her sleeve? “Come to think of it, I’d rather have a quiet night at home alone, if that’s all right with you.”

  “What, you think I’m planning to invite Burt and Megan and their cameras along?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  Jessa swirled a fry through the ketchup before biting into it. “You wound me with your lack of trust.

  “And you wound me with your inability to earn that trust.”

  “Touché.”

  By Sunday night, all the bachelors had arrived. The town’s one inn was completely packed, along with a few others in neighboring towns. While new, handsome faces were probably causing quite a stir around town, Taycee remained safely inside her apartment, hiding behind closed blinds and a locked door.

  Only one more day.

  A knot formed in her stomach every time she thought about it. Luke. The bachelors. Luke. Being on Camera. Luke. Oddly enough, Taycee felt more nervous about facing him again than all the other bachelors combined. He’d been mysteriously absent during the past couple of weeks, which would normally be a good thing, but it only meant that their next meeting, which was sure to be awkward, would take place in front of cameras and a room full of other bachelors. Luke was bound to goad her into saying something mortifying. Or, more likely, just to be a pest, he’d bring up the fact that she talked in her sleep—not a comment that would go over very well in a room full of potential dates.

  But that’s exactly why Luke would say it. To torment her. Because heaven forbid he’d ever grow up.r />
  Taycee’s forehead dropped to the counter, hitting the town newspaper resting there. She needed some aspirin. She needed some sleep. She needed to stop thinking and worrying and stewing about Luke.

  Sigh.

  If only there was some way to keep him from showing up. Not only would she be able to get through the night with some sanity still intact, but Luke would be a no-show. A slacker. Someone who obviously didn’t take the show seriously and would therefore be one of the first to go. Taycee would be free from having to see him and date him and be goaded by him.

  Hmm . . . not a bad idea. It bordered on brilliant, actually. But how to pull it off?

  Taycee lifted her head and flipped through the paper. Think, think, think. She paused on the last page when an ad for Carl’s Feed and Seed caught her attention. She knew Carl’s store well, with his bright red, cursive sign and the putrid smell of fertilizer that drifted through the town on days when the wind blew the wrong way. Whether it was the fact that Carl could use some extra business or the reminder of the smell, inspiration struck.

  In the morning Taycee would call Carl, and with any luck, Luke would be MIA tomorrow night.

  TAYCEE DRESSED IN ONE OF HER NEW, flowery summer dresses and slipped on some white strappy sandals. The dark pink pedicure Jessa had insisted on actually looked terrific. A few last curls in her hair, a swipe of lipstick, and she was as ready as she would ever be.

  Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as Taycee slid into her white Corolla and headed toward The Barn. On the outskirts of town, The Barn was exactly that—a barn. Or, at least it used to be. After significant renovations years earlier, the painted wood building that had once housed hay and animals now boasted hardwood floors, a log burning fireplace, a cozy leather sectional, rustic stairs and banisters, and a large kitchen. The perfect place for the opening “meet the bachelors” event.

  “You’re here,” Jessa breathed when Taycee walked inside. “Thank goodness. The florist I hired from Colorado Springs is botching the job. Her arrangements are decent, but she’s a lousy decorator. She doesn’t know where to put them. Would you mind?”