Her shoulders dropped a fraction. “Sounds good.”
They said their goodbyes, and he rushed home, showered, changed, and was on the road to Snow Valley in the nick of time. Ronnie would never forgive him for being late to her engagement party. She’d always been a low-maintenance sister, easy to get along with and content to hang out with the guys. Of course, if he’d known back then that she had a massive crush on his best friend, he wouldn’t have let her play touch football with them as often as she had. Ronnie used to dress like Chloe: guys’ shirts and baggy jeans. She’d grown out of that phase, though, and Grady noticed.
Thankfully, Chloe wasn’t a girly girl. Troy noticed she was a woman, but a woman who hung with the guys wouldn’t be a disruption to their business or his life. His interest in her would wear off soon enough as they settled into a routine at work. Her crazy red hair would become as familiar as the front door and no longer hold his attention. She was new. That was the only reason he’d been aware of her that way. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman.
Nothing at all.
Content that he was still in control of himself, his heart, and the situation—not to mention that they’d found a business partner so they could continue to grow the company—he resigned himself to an evening full of wedding talk.
The engagement party was being held in Chet Bauer’s barn. Chet had taken over his father’s ranch a few years back. He’d put up a new barn for family gatherings and was happy to loan it to Troy’s family for the evening.
Country music, both the greats like Willie Nelson and new artists, came through small speakers set strategically throughout the rafters. The smell of wood, earth, and good barbecue greeted Troy at the door. Ronnie wasn’t one to stand on ceremony. Heck, she spent her days covered in grease just like Troy did, so when it came to planning a party, she didn’t want the frills and lace. Instead, she opted for down-home cooking with lots of butter, homemade jam, barbecue sauce, local honey, and farm-fed beef.
The night air was crisp and the barn was warm with the sound of laughter and family. Sam Miller grabbed him in a hearty handshake, clamping his big old hand on Troy’s shoulder and grinning like he’d found his long-lost buddy. “Good to see you.”
Troy chuckled. Sam loved weddings. He had a heart as big as his orchards. His new wife, Cat, wouldn’t be far—the two of them were quite the team. “It’s good to be seen.”
“You come alone?” asked Sam, looking behind Troy as if he were hiding a date behind his back.
“Yep.”
“Aw, well, better luck next … uh …” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah shoot. I hated dating. Married life is so much better. I mean …”
Troy decided to let him off the hook. “It’s good to see you, Sam.”
Sam’s pensive look disappeared. “You too.”
“Troy. Troy!” his mom called from a few tables away. Her hair was done in the same style she wore every day, and she had on a pair of new jeans with a pretty blouse. Another one of Ronnie’s ideas had been to make the dress code casual. She warned them all that the wedding wouldn’t be so laid-back. Troy gagged at the thought of a tie snug around his neck. The idea made him itch all over.
He headed her direction, weaving through the haphazard arrangement of chairs and tables. He gave his mom a hug and a peck on the cheek. “You look great.”
She flapped her hand. “No time for that. I want to meet your date.” She pushed on his shoulder to move him aside, only to find an empty space.
“Mom!” Troy moved back in front of her. “I told you I was coming alone.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I thought you were teasing me. Who goes stag to an engagement party?”
“I do.”
“Honey.” Mom’s voice was all careful. “You need to get serious about this dating thing. Playtime is over.”
“Mom …” He said her name like a warning. “It’s not like I’m going to be over the hill next week. I’ve still got time.”
She tsked her tongue. “Please tell me you’re at least seeing someone. Or even several someones. I need to know you’re on top of this. It’s not like ordering your cap and gown—you can’t leave it to the last minute and borrow someone else’s.”
Exasperation washed over him like a bucket of cold water, and he bit his tongue. Would she ever let him live that down? He forgot one small detail his senior year and she acted like he’d forgotten every detail since. He ran a business, for the love of Pete; he wasn’t helpless.
He held his sarcastic answer in check, mostly because he wasn’t seeing anyone—or anyones. There just wasn’t a lot of time to go chasing after women. He worked and he slept. That was it. And it was a good thing he did, because Grady was slacking off with all this wedding crap.
Mom put her hand on his arm and leaned close. “If you are single, there are a couple of sweet girls here tonight. I could make introductions.”
Heaven help him he would not be at the mercy of his mother’s matchmaking skills. “Sorry. I’m already seeing someone.”
“But …” Mom pointed to the empty space next to him.
“She had to work late tonight.”
“Oh.” She frowned for just a moment. “Well, you’ll have to bring her by for Easter.”
“Sure. If we’re still dating, I’ll make that happen.”
“If she’s smart, she’ll stick with you. You’re a good man and a great catch. She’d be silly to let your slip away.” She patted his belly. “Okay, I’m going to check on the buffet. I’ll be back soon.”
Troy pulled out a chair and slumped into the seat to watch his and Grady’s extended families mingle. Dancing would start later on, but for now, everyone was content to eat and catch up.
It wasn’t three minutes later that his baby sister, Candace, plopped into the chair next to him. She had a plate full of barbecue ribs, corn on the cob that he bet his mom harvested last year and stuck in the deep freeze in the garage, and beans. She made a face. “This isn’t an engagement party; it’s a hoedown.”
He laughed, plucking a rib off her plate and sucking the meat off the bone. Candace punched him in the thigh. He scowled. “For a prissy little thing, you hit hard.” She was blonde and blue-eyed and prettier than a little sister ever should be. She was also lucky he didn’t live at home or she’d never date.
“Baby.” She scooped up some beans.
“I suppose you’re planning pastel colors and candlelight for your engagement party.”
“If I ever have one.” She turned on him quickly. “But I heard you are seeing someone special.”
Troy rolled his eyes. “Trust Mom to spread that around faster than frosting on a cake.”
Candace twisted her neck to see where their mom was busy setting out a new tray of brownies. “She’s having the time of her life with this wedding, and Ronnie doesn’t care half as much as she should about the whole thing because she’s so gaga over Grady, so Mom gets whatever she wants.” She punctuated her disgust with the situation by tossing the bone onto her plate.
She wiped her fingers with a napkin, her blue eyes sharpening with interest. “But let’s talk about you and the new love of your life.”
For some reason, a picture of Chloe appeared in his mind, her cheeks spread wide and her green eyes sparkling. He wondered what her hair would look like if she wore it down. Probably like a mop—there was so much curl and so much hair.
“Dude.” Candace poked him in the side. “You’re, like, starry-eyed and she’s not even here.” She rolled her eyes in disgust.
He shrugged. If letting Candace believe he had a girlfriend bugged her, then that was an added bonus. Blame the older brother inside of him, sometimes getting under his sister’s skin was fun. “I’ve only just met her, but yeah, she’s amazing.” Amazing at diagnosing mechanical problems, and if her résumé was truthful, then she’d have their office shipshape in no time.
“Ugh.” Candace shoved her plate away. “If you get engaged, I’m g
oing to be so ticked off. Mom’s been praying for you to find someone—even over dinner. And if you do, she’ll start on me. So no rings.” She poked him in the chest for added emphasis. “I don’t need that kind of pressure right now.”
He held up both hands. “We’re a ways off from that.” Like Earth-to-Pluto distance. He’d literally just met the woman three hours ago, and she wasn’t his type. He liked … well, he wasn’t sure what he liked the most, but he knew it wasn’t frizzy red hair, no matter how cute it looked on her.
“Good.” She crumpled her napkin and set it on her plate. Leaning back, she took in the guests. “Maybe we should mingle.”
“Go ahead.” He leaned back, throwing his elbow over the top of the chair. “I’m good to let the party come to me.”
She threw her napkin at his face and stood up, taking her plate with her. “Good luck with that.”
Troy smirked and let her go. It didn’t take long for Aunt Karen to find him and do her best to wrangle details out of him about this mystery girl. Troy put her off, but in her wake was Uncle Greg, who expounded the virtues of marriage and family life. It was a given that Troy’s mom put him up to the boring and uninformative lecture in the hopes that Greg could be a good influence on her single son.
As soon as the clock stuck midnight, he donned his coat and headed out the doors. They’d hired a few of the Bauer kids to do the cleanup, so he wasn’t needed, and he didn’t need to be shoved to the jewelry store to buy a ring for a woman who didn’t exist.
She kind of existed. He’d pictured Chloe as he dropped a tidbit here and a tidbit there. He had to have someone real to describe so he could keep the facts straight. With a sigh, he started his truck and backed out of the gravel parking lot.
He rolled down the window, feeling too hot, and then rolled it back up again almost immediately. The DJ decided now was a good time to discuss the benefits of planning out your funeral in advance, so he flipped the station. Heavy metal crashed through the speakers. He switched again, wanting something more mellow. After a third try, he opted for silence and turned the radio off completely. His lower back felt tight, so he shifted around. Finally, he realized that it wasn’t his environment that didn’t sit right; it was the lies he’d spread about himself all night.
He’d purposely misled people to think better of him, and that was wrong. Like Candace, he didn’t need the pressure his mom laid on about getting married. She was praying for him to find someone, for the love! If he made it through this wedding without losing his mind, he’d call that a win.
Chapter 2
March 17 (Otherwise known as St. Patrick’s Day)
Chloe
Chloe stood in front of her closet and stared at the many plaid shirts and neatly folded jeans. She wrenched hangers from side to side. “Ugh!” Sliding both doors to the right, she looked through her collection of skirts, dresses, slacks, and blouses.
“What are you looking for?” asked Bree, her roommate and best friend since the night she’d had brought home an extra pint of Hazel’s Dairy Delights Cheery Cherry Ice Cream. Yeah, Chloe could be bought with vanilla and cream.
“Something that doesn’t make me look like a man but that I can wear to work and not get mad because I smeared grease on it.”
Bree joined her in front of the clothes rack. She tipped her head this way and that, her eyes scanning quickly. “Are you sure you own something that fits that description?”
“No!” Chloe threw her hands in the air. “Life was so much simpler when there were just two sides to my closet: Work and Going Out.”
Bree smiled scandalously. “What happened in your life that challenged the simplicity?” She drummed her fingertips together, waiting for a juicy bit of gossip. Or, more likely, a hint of romance in Chloe’s life.
“Nothing happened. Nothing at all. And that’s the problem.” She threw herself back on the bed, her hair falling all around her. She loved her curly hair. It was the only part of her that remotely resembled her late mother, and she’d rather swim in a sewer full of rats than cut it off.
Bree snapped her fingers. “Come on, tell me who he is.”
“He is my business partner.”
Bree recoiled. “He’s engaged.”
Chloe climbed up so she was on her elbows. “Not that business partner—the other one.” She flopped back down, and visions of Troy leaning over a truck engine, his back muscles rippling and his triceps hard as rocks, mocked her. “He has no idea I’m alive.”
Bree sat next to her on the bed. “Honey,” she crooned. “He cashed your check. Of course he knows you’re alive.”
Chloe grabbed the pillow above her head and whacked her roommate. “Why are we best friends again?”
She flopped down next to Chloe and linked their elbows together. “Because I’ve never had a sister, and you’ve never had a sister, and a woman needs sisters.”
“You’re as annoying as a sister.”
“And you’re as pouty as one.”
They both sighed heavily, neither one upset by their teasing.
“I’m guessing this outfit is so said man will realize you’re a woman.”
“I’d be happy if he realized I was alive.”
“That’s it—shoot for the stars.”
Chloe unhooked their elbows and rolled onto her stomach. She traced the stitches in her bedspread. “He’s so out of my league.” Bree opened her mouth to argue, her eyebrows drawn stubbornly together, but Chloe stopped her. “He played football in high school, has worked in a garage since he was five, and he started a successful business. I’m pretty sure he should be Montana’s Most Eligible Bachelor.”
“Do we have a list of those men?”
“Probably.”
Bree sat up. “And where could one get this list?”
Chloe laughed at her eagerness. “I’m being serious.”
“I hope so—I could use a cheat sheet.”
“Stop! We’re talking about my clothing—not your need for a man.”
“I don’t need him for long.” She pouted. “I miss kissing.”
Chloe snorted. “Join the club.”
Bree bounced off the bed and attacked the closet. She came up with a wide-strap tank top and a hoodie that fell off one shoulder. “What about this?”
Chloe considered it. The hoodie was old enough that she didn’t mind getting it dirty, and the tank would mostly be hidden. “It doesn’t exactly show off my figure.” She lifted the hem of the square shirt.
“No, but it will show off a little skin.” Bree pumped her eyebrows.
“What the heck.” Chloe accepted the clothing, and Bree left her alone to change. She giggled at her roommate’s antics, but her giggle faded away when she thought about how Bree had said she missed kissing. It had been over three months since Chloe’s lips had tingled. The problem was, she had her kissing hopes pinned to her business partner and he was all business. Maybe today he’d think about getting down to the business of asking her out. Now that would be a St. Patrick’s Day miracle if ever there was one.
Once dressed, she glanced in the mirror. The shirt didn’t fall all the way off her shoulder—it kind of hovered right on the edge like a promise. That was good—keep the guy wondering, guessing, pondering over whether or not it was going to slide right off and what it would take to make that happen.
She brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a messy topknot, allowing tendrils by her ears to hang down. She’d cut them shorter so they brushed her chin when curly. If she straightened them, then they tickled her collarbone. She used to straighten her hair all the time, but finally decided to embrace what God gave her. The decision saved her hours and her hair became soft and healthy without all the styling products and heat exposure.
She called goodbye to Bree—who was in her room—grabbed her coat, and headed out the door. The drive to work was uneventful, and soon enough it was time to face Troy. Her palms grew slick and she rubbed them on her pants. This was silly. Today was just another day in
the office. Troy probably wouldn’t notice her any more than he had any of the previous days they’d worked together.
Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she pushed on the door and smiled as Troy looked up from his desk. “Morning,” she chirped just like she always did. Proud of herself for not blushing, she slipped her coat off and adjusted the navy-blue sweatshirt.
Troy’s eyes stayed glued to the computer screen. “How was your night? Do anything fun?” he asked.
She sauntered to her desk, feeling a little daring with her skin hanging out. Okay, so it wasn’t that much skin, just her collarbone and a peek at her shoulder, but it was more of her than Troy had seen before. “It was low-key. Dinner with friends.” She’d eaten dinner while watching reruns of Monica, Phoebe, and the gang, but he didn’t need to know how pathetic her night had been. “What about you?”
“I drove out to Snow Valley to help Grady’s dad vaccinate the newborns.”
Images of Troy in a cowboy hat, riding a horse with its nostrils flaring and his arms straining to hold the animal back from taking off at a run, caught her breath and held it. She plopped into her rolling chair and gripped the edge of her desk just to have something solid to hold on to.
Troy was still talking, but the sound was lost to the whooshing noise in her ears until he said the words “pinch you?” The thought of Troy’s hands anywhere on her body jolted her out of head and back to the office. “Excuse me?”
He was looking at her. When had his gaze shifted from his computer screen? “You’re lucky I don’t pinch you.”
Her face burned and she knew without a doubt that her creamy skin had gone a blotchy, unattractive pink. “Why?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. It was the kind of grin men had on the front of the romance novels stacked by her bed. “Because you’re not wearing green.” He plucked at his forest-green tee shirt. “I would have thought, with your Irish heritage, that you’d celebrate St. Patrick’s Day big time.”
“How did you …?”
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 52
