Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon Romance #3)

by Codi Gary

  “So, she turned the small parlor of their hotel into a social salon and put advertisements in papers as far away as New York City. ARE YOU LOOKING FOR LOVE? was the headline, and below she offered to find you your perfect match—for a modest fee—no matter how long it took. Then she took two pieces of wood, one for the sign and one to stake it into the ground. On the first she painted two words: TRUE LOVE. It was in remembrance of the man she had lost, but soon that became what visitors called our little dust-bowl town.

  “People traveled from all over to be matched by her. In fact, hanging up in the visitors’ center today is a copy of that advertisement and the marriage license of the first match she ever made. For one hundred and fifty years, Aileen; her daughter, Darcy; my mother, Clara; and now I, have been matching people, and helping them find that elusive thing we all search for: love.

  “This weekend, I follow in my family’s tradition by promising you that somewhere out there is the man or woman you were meant for, and come hell or high water, I will find them for you!”

  Applause erupted, and Dorothy waved her hands to quiet everyone.

  “Now, I know most of you filled out a questionnaire when you arrived at the meet and greet last night, but if you didn’t, please fill out the one in front of you now. After breakfast, we’ll be breaking up into groups, which are color-coded. Your group color can be found under your plate.”

  Val flipped over her plate and found a red square. She glanced up and caught Trent holding up a red square her way. Val had a suspicion that Dorothy Love had already gotten an idea about who she belonged with. She smiled and waved, but she was more concerned with what group Justin was in. She looked at him again, but he was laughing at something blondie was saying.

  “You’ll be visiting different parts of town,” Dorothy continued. “Each stop teaches us about who you are, and what your relationship strengths are. Please make sure to stay with your group and participate in every activity. We’ll meet for lunch right here around one, and then continue activities until just after four. Tonight is our dinner dance, which will start at six-thirty. Your seats will be assigned based on compatibility, so please don’t trade seats. The dancing will commence right after, and I’ve been told that the way a couple dances can tell a lot about the way they’ll connect in . . . other ways.”

  Hoots and hollers greeted her innuendo, and Val was a little surprised by the ribald joke coming from the older woman’s mouth. She could never imagine either of her grandmas alluding to sex in any way.

  Good for her.

  “And that rounds out our first day of activities. Food’s coming around soon, so mingle with your tablemates and have fun. If you have a questionnaire, hold ’em up high so we can grab ’em from you. Thanks for visiting True Love, folks, and don’t be shy. Mingle, talk, flirt . . . whatever it is you young people do these days.”

  Val looked at the questionnaire next to her plate with the black ballpoint pen on top and picked it up with a sigh.

  “You missed the meet and greet?” the man next to her asked, his voice a nasally whine. Maybe he had a cold.

  His blow horn of a sneeze answered her question, and she scooted away just a bit. “Yeah, I fell on the way over—”

  “Oh, you’re the accident-prone girl,” he said before turning away from her to have a severe coughing fit.

  Her mouth flopped open. Accident-prone girl? The nickname wasn’t even catchy.

  “Don’t worry about him. I saw him taking multiple puffs of his inhaler earlier, so I’m pretty sure you just dodged a bullet,” a gravelly voice to her left said.

  Val turned and smiled at an older man in his forties sporting a goatee, a shaved head, and a skull-faced tattoo just under the sleeve of his American Chopper T-shit.

  “Why is asthma enough to send me running in the other direction?” Val asked.

  “Didn’t you see his nerdy superhero T-shirt? If that guy doesn’t have a thousand action figures or live in his mother’s basement, I’d be shocked,” the man said.

  Val smothered her laugh with a cough before holding her hand out to him. “I’m Val.”

  “Kevin.” His big hand squeezed hers and she returned the gesture. He smiled. “You got a grip for just a little bit.”

  “My dad always told me to make my handshake mean business,” she said, leaning back as the server set a plate of eggs, bacon, and hash browns in front of her. Another server put a gravy boat and a basket of biscuits in the middle of the table. When the dweeb started to reach for it, Kevin grabbed it away from him.

  “Easy, sneezy, I’ll hand you one.”

  When she laughed this time, Val used her napkin, pressing it against her mouth and turning her back on the dweeb, her shoulders shaking. After her laughter subsided she whispered, “You’re a funny guy.”

  “You should call up my ex-wives and tell them that,” Kevin said, putting a couple of biscuits on his plate before handing the basket to her.

  “How many are there?”

  “Three. Here looking for lucky number four,” he said, tossing her a wink before taking a bite of his food, gravy dribbling down his chin.

  “Wow,” she said. She had a hard time imagining anyone wanting to get married twice, let alone four times.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’, you aren’t my type. I like my women on the thicker side. Like that one over there.”

  Val followed his pointed fork to a full-figured woman in her thirties with a pretty face and a tattoo she couldn’t make out on her upper breast. “She’s pretty.”

  “Yep. Who you got your eye on?”

  Val’s eyes traveled to where Justin was smiling at Barbie and nearly gnashed her teeth. “No one special.”

  “Hello there.”

  Val turned in her chair to find Dorothy Love behind her, smiling.

  “Hello,” Val said, standing up to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Val.”

  “How’s your head? You took quite a hit.”

  “It’s all right as long as I don’t press on it or move too fast.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad. The handsome military man was worried about you,” Dorothy said, and Val caught her sly grin.

  “Justin? Yeah, he drove me back from the hospital,” Val said, adding quickly, “but we’re just friends.”

  Dorothy snorted, to Val’s surprise. “I highly doubt he feels the same.”

  Val’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  “In my opinion, the only way a man and woman could be strictly platonic friends, with no feelings for each other besides respect, is if they were both gay,” Dorothy continued, shocking her further. “You show me a man and a woman who are just friends and I’ll show you a story of unrequited love or two people in denial.”

  “That seems a little cynical,” Val said, finally finding her voice.

  “Just as I don’t believe in platonic friendships between the genders, I’m sure some people find my perfect matches preposterous.”

  Val could see her point, but she also had one of her own. “If you think there’s a perfect match for everyone, what about serial killers?”

  Val knew she was being rude, but maybe if people didn’t have this absurd idea of what love should be, the divorce rate wouldn’t be so high.

  Instead of being stumped or angry, Dorothy shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, I believe you have to be capable of love and compassion to warrant the same in return. The person who is right for you is going to complement your strengths and accept your weaknesses. Things won’t always be perfect, but really, nothing is.”

  “And if you aren’t capable of love? That automatically makes you a bad person or undeserving of it?” Val snapped, wondering why she was taking the conversation so personally.

  Because you wonder if something’s broken inside you.

  Dorothy reached out and patted her hand. “I think good people who have never loved before are extra special.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because when it finally does
happen, you’re going to know it’s real.”

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  JUSTIN WAS SO happy to escape the dental hygienist from California, he almost did a touchdown dance when he made it outside. If only there had been something on the questionnaire that could eliminate soulless money grubbers as potential dates.

  Holding onto his red square, he looked around for his group and saw Val standing under a sign with the same symbol, talking to none other than Dr. Pretty Boy.

  He walked over to them, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he interrupted Trent. “Hey, guys.”

  Val’s look was almost as unfriendly as the doctor’s. “Let me guess, red group?”

  “Yep, what are the odds?”

  “Pretty good, considering how much the old woman must like drama,” Val muttered.

  “What was that?” Trent asked.

  “Nothing, I was just wondering what these activities are.”

  But Justin had heard her and agreed. Dorothy Love had a flare for the dramatic.

  “Okay, folks, are we ready to head out on our tour?” a young man in an orange down jacket asked.

  They followed behind the guide, whose name turned out to be Ned, and Justin walked alongside Val, who seemed to be ignoring him. Either she was mad at him for getting between her and the doc or . . .

  Maybe she hadn’t liked being on the receiving end of her own game?

  She caught him watching her and glared at him. He was going to go with the latter.

  Bumping her with his shoulder, he said, “Hey, what’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Whenever a woman says she’s fine, it means she’s anything but.” Leaning over, he lowered his voice. “You know, I think you’re awfully pretty when you’re pissed about something. Your eyes get all dark and small, like a—”

  She whacked his puffy chest, but he saw her smile before she could hide it. “Watch it!”

  Suddenly the whole group was watching them, and Ned the guide looked none too pleased. After a pointed look at both of them, he continued, “Anyway, the old saloon was turned into a ladies’ boardinghouse as they waited for their prospective grooms . . .”

  Justin tuned out good old Ned and brushed his hand against Val’s, watching her face for a reaction. He saw her small smile and was tempted to lace his fingers with hers, despite her assurances that she wasn’t interested. But he could wait until she figured out what she wanted; he would just be patient.

  Although he did find the thought of holding hands with Val as they walked down the street very appealing.

  He had been willing to throw in the towel yesterday and acquiesce to her wishes, but after the way she’d reacted to Mindy’s flirting, he didn’t think she wanted him to leave her alone. She kept repeating that she didn’t want to date him or anyone else, but why give him the cold shoulder for talking to another woman, then?

  VAL FELT JUSTIN brush against her again, this time his fingers teasing hers, and wondered exactly what was happening between them. He teased and flirted and kissed her like he never wanted to stop, but was that it? Was he just trying to finish what they’d started when they were kids? Or maybe it was just the chase—that she hadn’t caved and gone out with him?

  Or he could just like you.

  Did she want him too, though? She had sworn off men and marriage, but if his feelings were real . . .

  Dorothy’s words kept floating through her mind. Because when it finally does happen, they’ll know that it’s real.

  “Here we are, folks. This is going to be our one-hour trivia event; just think of it like speed dating, but with a Jeopardy! feel. First of all, we’ll ask you to please leave your cell phones and other devices with your jackets at the front of the room. No one likes a cheater, after all,” Ned said, and for some reason his suspicious gaze fell on her.

  What’s your problem, pizza face?

  “This exercise is a test of how well you handle communication and problem solving during stressful situations. I’ll split you into teams of two and we’ll go for ten rounds of three questions each, but there will be only one category per round, so it makes things easier. When the round is over, the gentleman will get up and move on to the next table and partner. Any questions?”

  No one said a word as they followed Ned up the creaky steps into the old saloon, which had been modernized into a large room with small white tables and chairs scattered throughout. A projection TV was at the front of the room, with a hipster-looking girl manning a laptop next to it. Pink tablecloths covered the tables, each with a flashing red buzzer in the center.

  “I will be keeping track of round winners and my helper, Julia”—Ned pointed to the hipster girl, who scowled—“will be taking notes on the way teams work together . . . or don’t,” Ned said and began pairing people up.

  Val nearly rubbed her hands together. She loved trivia.

  “All right, you and you, table one; you go to table two; you, three . . .” By the time Ned made it back, there was only Trent, Justin, a tall girl with a shy smile, and Val. “You with her and you with him. Tables one and ten.”

  Val followed Trent over to their table, hearing Justin muttering behind her.

  As they sat down, Trent asked, “Are you any good at trivia?”

  “Yeah, but I’m also really competitive.”

  “Good!”

  “I FIND IT weird that you’re here.”

  Justin turned to his partner in surprise. “What?”

  “I wasn’t being rude; it’s just that you don’t seem like the type of guy who needs help meeting girls,” the blonde said, her cheeks flushed as she lowered her eyes.

  Justin smiled, liking her forthrightness. “There was a mix-up with a radio show contest. I was supposed to get concert tickets, but someone got my prize by mistake.”

  She seemed to be considering his answer doubtfully. “Okay, but why did you come anyway?” she asked.

  Justin leaned over. “Can you keep a secret?”

  The woman snorted. “Who am I gonna tell?”

  His smile widened at her sassiness and he pointed toward Val. “Because of that girl.”

  She followed his gesture and a bright smile spread across her face. She wasn’t a natural beauty by any means, but when she smiled like that, Justin could see a sweetness shining through that lots of guys would be interested in.

  “Oh, that is so romantic! I’m Layla, by the way,” she said, holding her hand out to him.

  “Justin.” He shook her outstretched hand, and his attention shifted to Val, who was smiling at something Trent said.

  “Just a fair warning: I suck at trivia,” Layla said, drawing his attention back to her.

  Justin smiled reassuringly. “That’s okay. I’m competitive enough for three people.”

  Ned walked to the front of the room, holding a remote in his hand. “All right, folks. Since Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, our trivia will have a romantic theme. Our first category is . . .” He hit a button on the remote, and words flashed across the screen too fast to read. Finally slowing down, they read “Songs for Valentines.”

  “Okay, and the first trivia question is . . .” Ned reached for a brilliant red index card from one of the stacks in front of him and read, “‘My Funny Valentine’ has been covered by famous singers like Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra, but that wasn’t how the song got its start. What was the name of the original musical this song was written for? Is it (a) . . .”

  A buzzer went off, and Justin looked over at Val, who was beaming.

  “Yes, team ten?” Ned looked annoyed.

  “That would be Babes in Arms.”

  Ned stared at the card and wrinkled his nose. “Correct.”

  “Whew!” Val hollered, throwing her arms up. Justin laughed until Trent reached over to give her a hug.

  “I would have never guessed that,” Layla said beside him.

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  “
All right, next question. Mandy Moore sang this catchy tune during The Princess Diaries. Was it (a) ‘Sorry Valentine,’ (b) . . .”

  Ah, hell, I know this one.

  But did he really want to answer?

  Slapping his hand down on the buzzer, he cleared his throat. “‘Stupid Cupid.’”

  “I’m sorry, we couldn’t hear you,” Val yelled, and he shot her a dark look.

  “Yes, team one, what was that?”

  Justin wanted to throttle Ned. “I said the song was ‘Stupid Cupid.’”

  “That is correct. Congratulations,” Ned said, marking something down.

  “So, you like The Princess Diaries?” Layla teased next to him, and he turned his frown on her too, only she didn’t give him a taunting grin, she started stammering, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything . . .”

  He felt bad that he had glared at the poor girl; she looked like she was about to pee her pants. Giving her a sheepish smile, he said, “It’s okay. It was Mandy Moore in a bikini. Believe me, every guy in this room knew that song; they just didn’t want to admit it.”

  She seemed to be searching his face for something—he had no idea what—but finally, she relaxed. “So, you’re just a secure guy. I wish I was that confident.”

  Justin looked over at Val, who was laughing at something else Trent said. “Trust me, even confident people have their doubts.”

  “All right, next question. The 1996 hit ‘Cupid’ was sung by what R & B group: (a) D12, (b) Boyz II Men, (c) 112, or (d) K-Ci & JoJo?” Ned asked, checking his watch.