Only Skin Deep

by Cathleen Galitz

  “Do ya trust me?” she asked, popping a wad of gum.

  Lauren nodded dumbly and crossed her fingers behind her back as Claire positioned her in a chair in the middle of the kitchen and took a pair of scissors in hand.

  “Not too short please,” she implored, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Her hair might not be the height of fashion, but Lauren was just a smidgeon vain about her thick tresses. A half an hour later, she opened her eyes to see the floor covered with piles of glossy dark locks. She almost screamed when she ran a hand along the back of her naked neck.

  “It’s fabulous!” Suzanne assured her.

  Lauren felt her throat close around a knot of regret. She knew her friend would be equally complimentary if her niece had given her a GI buzz. Claire held a mirror up to her face.

  “Well, what d’ya think?”

  Lauren wasn’t quite sure what to think. It was much shorter than she really wanted. Layered in the back for lift and tapered in the front to frame her heart-shaped face, the style did bring out the russet highlights of her hair. Longish bangs added femininity to a cut that few women could carry off without seeming somewhat mannish. It gave Lauren a pixie quality that made her look much younger and more stylish.

  “I can show you how to spike it like mine if you want,” Claire told her.

  Lauren swallowed hard at the thought. Until this very moment she hadn’t realized how much she had actually been hiding behind her long hair and conservative clothing.

  “I like it just the way it is,” she announced, surprised to actually mean it.

  Smiling broadly, Suzanne rubbed her hands together in glee. “Now to bring out those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

  She pulled a small paper sack from her voluminous handbag and spilled its contents on the kitchen table. An assortment of cosmetics tantalized the eye. Lauren found them utterly daunting. For fear of looking as clownish as some of the girls in her high school classes, she generally limited her makeup selections to a layer of pale pink lipstick and a touch of mascara in a demure shade of brown to the tips of her eyelashes.

  Today she gave herself over to her friend, gladly accepting Suzanne’s help. Lauren committed herself to taking good mental notes. Gray eyeliner, a tasteful combination of taupe and teal eye shadow and an application of darker mascara did indeed bring out Lauren’s eyes as promised. A dusting of blush also brought out a set of high cheekbones and a shocking mauve emphasized the fullness of a pair of lips that broke into a hesitant smile when Lauren surveyed the total effect of her makeover. The pixie in her mirror suddenly looked very grown-up.

  She scarcely recognized herself.

  “Now it’s time to go clothes shopping,” Suzanne announced.

  Although the look on her friend’s face reminded Lauren too much of Dr. Frankenstein for her liking, she was nevertheless grateful for the offer. Claire refused to take a penny for the haircut, saying that she would appreciate a positive word-of-mouth recommendation.

  “I’ll let you buy me a beer before I leave town though,” she added as an afterthought as she gathered up her belongings and headed back to her aunt’s house.

  “It’s a deal,” Lauren promised.

  All gratitude aside, she wasn’t too terribly disappointed to hear that Claire would be unable to accompany them on their shopping expedition. If what Claire was wearing at the moment was any indication, she probably did most of her shopping at a hip, urban out-fitters. As cute as the butterfly on the younger woman’s right shoulder might be, Lauren didn’t much care for the idea of being dragged into a tattoo parlor, either.

  Suzanne wouldn’t hear of patronizing any of the local clothing shops and insisted they drive to the trendy tourist town of Jackson Hole where boutiques proudly displayed one-of-a-kind designs for a clientele of movie stars and local millionaires. When Lauren expressed her concern about the cost of such a venture, her friend promptly put things into perspective.

  “Chic doesn’t come cheap. Besides, you don’t have to buy out any one store. Just a few dynamite outfits will be well worth the investment. Hopefully the next time we go shopping it’ll be for a wedding dress.”

  That promise was enough to convince Lauren to go for it. Having saved most of her salary by living at home for so long, she felt entitled to a frivolous spending spree. A couple of hours later she placed a stack of purchases on the counter of a place aptly named Diva’s Digs. Only the thought of building a new life with a man who loved and appreciated her kept Lauren from complaining when the salesclerk rang up her purchases: an outrageously expensive pair of designer jeans, a brown checked sundress that made her feel rather like a debutante, a variety of leek tops, some classic tapered pants, matching shoes. And one timeless little black dress.

  By the time they rolled back into town well after dark, Lauren felt like a movie star herself—a rather nervous movie star wondering when her leading man was going to make an appearance in her latest script….

  As promised, Travis arrived bright and early Monday morning to take Lauren to his grandfather’s old cabin to see if she was even slightly interested in renting it. Claiming that she would be doing him a favor by simply keeping the mice at bay, he had already offered it to her for free, but she wouldn’t so much as think of staying there without paying something. Travis supposed she didn’t want anyone thinking that she was a “kept” woman or something equally archaic.

  The thought brought a smile to his lips as he sauntered up the well-tended walk to Lauren’s front door. He couldn’t imagine anyone believing the conservative Ms. Hewett capable of such debauchery. After the wedding reception last Thursday, Travis had spent a little time thinking about that spontaneous kiss Lauren had given him. He’d finally come to the conclusion that he had greatly overestimated its impact. It was easy enough to blame his reaction on the fact that he had deprived himself of female company for too long. Having been taken by surprise, his testosterone had simply kicked into overdrive. He wouldn’t let himself be so easily ambushed today.

  When Lauren met him at the door, he couldn’t have been more startled than had she greeted him wearing absolutely nothing at all. Mouth open, he stared at her in confusion.

  “What did you do different?” he blurted out with uncharacteristic lack of tact.

  He wondered if she’d booked an appointment on one of those extreme makeover television shows. Surely a pair of pants couldn’t make such an amazing change. The smile she gave him was nothing short of dazzling and made him feel somehow taller simply for having shown up on her doorstep.

  “I cut my hair,” she said simply enough. “Do you like it?”

  “As a rule, I don’t like short hair on women,” he admitted honestly enough.

  Nevertheless, Travis certainly found hers a tremendous improvement. He was struck by an urge to run his fingers though it and see if it really was as soft and shiny as it looked. Watching the corners of her lips turn from a smile to a frown, he realized too late that he had hurt her feelings. He hadn’t meant to. His mother had raised him better than to insult a lady, and he hastened to remedy his blunder.

  “It looks nice on you, though. In fact you look great.”

  Glad he didn’t have to lie, he wondered if a haircut and new clothes could really transform this shy wallflower into a blossoming Cinderella. Finding no fairy godmother hovering in the near vicinity, Travis reminded himself that he was the last person in the world to question what a woman did to herself. His ex-wife had made it clear that any decision involving her own body was entirely the woman’s prerogative.

  Including whether or not she wanted to carry his baby….

  Jaclyn wasn’t one to strap herself to an endless pile of dirty diapers, or run after some ungrateful “rug rat.” Never mind the fact that she’d claimed to be on birth control when she wasn’t. Or that she’d used her pregnancy to force a proposal out of him in the first place. Or that she’d ultimately terminated it without his consent.

  Travis had never felt so helpless in his w
hole life. Nor so angry.

  Or hurt.

  The memory of that tragic day swamped him. To this day, he had to turn away whenever he saw a father and son playing catch in the park. Or a dad teaching his “little princess” how to ride a bike. Or a happy young couple playing peek-a-boo with an infant. Sucked in by dark waters passing under the bridge of time, Travis tried to shake off his murky thoughts while waiting for Lauren to lock her front door behind her.

  “Not many people around here bother with that,” he observed.

  “I know, but nowadays you have to be careful about who you trust.”

  Travis couldn’t agree with her more. Reminding himself that sometimes monsters wore pretty, deceptive faces, he redoubled his efforts to give his heart the same consideration Lauren gave her mother’s house. Such conscientiousness boded well for her reliability as a renter, but considering the isolation of his cabin, he assured her that such wariness would be completely un-warranted “out in the boonies.”

  A gentle breeze carried the delicate scent of her jasmine perfume as they walked to his pickup. Opening the passenger door of his one-ton dually for her, Travis realized it was a fragrance that could get under a man’s skin. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind since the reception, and right now it was making him itchy from the inside out.

  Standing just under five foot five inches in her stocking feet, Lauren needed a stepladder to climb into the truck. Seeing as he didn’t carry one around with him, Travis offered to help her up into the cab. He was glad she didn’t object when he put his hands on either side of her waist and gave her a little boost. And relieved that she didn’t slap him when they lingered there a moment longer than they should have.

  Their gazes collided. Travis lost himself in a pair of eyes the color of aspen leaves at the first sign of spring. There was no softer color on the face of the earth. The air in his lungs got stuck there as he forgot to breathe.

  Just the other day on the dance floor he’d had to fight his way through all those filmy layers of chiffon just to even find her waist. Today Lauren wasn’t bothering to hide her mouthwatering physical attributes. A crop top the color of pale lemon meringue was tucked enticingly into a pair of slacks. There was nothing particularly sexy about the pants that Travis could see—other than the way they hugged her hips made him want to peel them off of her.

  Whoa! This is no frivolous little swinger looking for a good time. This is a woman who’s made no bones about the fact that she’s looking to settle down. Hell, I’m not so sure she was joking earlier when she asked you to marry her. And you, cowboy, are about as eager to tie that knot again as somebody standing on the gallows….

  With that solemn reproof in mind, Travis purposely worked at keeping the conversation light as they traveled the five miles out of town to the Half Moon Ranch. Nestled into the base of the mountains and dissected by a picturesque river, it had been in the Banks family for generations and meant everything to Travis. That land was as much a part of him as the marrow in his bones.

  Against his lawyer’s advice, Travis maintained that Jaclyn was welcome to anything she wanted in the divorce—except the ranch itself. A woman devoid of sentimentality or an appreciation of nature, Jaclyn had wanted to subdivide the property the instant she calculated its value by an investor’s standard. She simply couldn’t understand why anyone would endure the long hours and physical labor necessary to keep such a massive operation going when a killing could be made by selling it off. It hadn’t taken her long to discover that the life of a rancher’s wife was not the one of luxury that she’d expected. And to abandon it as quickly as she had her vows.

  The scent of Lauren’s perfume, with its own subtle, flirtatious voice, filled any lapses in the conversation and kept him from traveling too far down old roads. Lauren seemed so excited about the prospect of having her own place that she was oblivious to the effect she was having on him. Travis was glad he’d paid someone to come over on the weekend to straighten the place up. He didn’t care whether Lauren actually rented it or not, but he didn’t want her mocking that which held a special place in his heart. The times he had spent with his grandfather in that old cabin were among his best childhood memories.

  He didn’t need to worry. Lauren fell in love with it the moment she set eyes on it.

  “It’s perfect!” she exclaimed as if seeing the Taj Mahal instead of the humble little cabin that his ex-wife considered an eye sore.

  Sentimental value, and a certain measure of spite, had kept Travis from complying with Jaclyn’s repeated requests to tear it down. There was no denying that the place was a fixer-upper, but that only seemed to endear it to Lauren all the more. As she bubbled over with ideas on how to dress up the windows and what kind of furniture would be coziest in front of the rock fireplace, Travis couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.

  She turned her back to gaze out the window at the Bridger Wilderness in a moment of reverie. The pristine peaks in the background had nothing on the silhouette with which she presented him. It was surprisingly hard to keep his arms from encircling her curvaceous figure and sharing the view with her.

  “This window is the focal point of the living room, don’t you think? Would you mind if I pounded a few nails in the walls? If I promise to use only small ones?”

  Travis knew how much it would have pleased Grandpa to see someone appreciate the place enough to pay it any kind of loving touch. Only a few hardy perennials that Grandma Banks had planted years ago still bloomed in a neglected window box. He wondered if Lauren would bother to pluck the weeds that were choking them out.

  “Pound away,” he said, fighting to keep his imagination from leading him to thoughts of undressing this woman right there on the old horsehair couch against the wall.

  Lauren’s eyes shone as she thanked him, promising to keep the integrity of the place intact when considering a decorating scheme.

  Travis didn’t think there was any way she could hurt the place. After all, those thick, old logs had weathered the years without giving up an ounce of character.

  “You’re welcome to keep any of the furniture here. If you’re sure you want to move in, I’ll haul anything you don’t want to the dump. It’s been so long since anyone lived here, I can’t even guess what your electric bill will be. As little square footage as there is, it can’t be much.”

  Not one to quibble over the price of answered prayers, Lauren brushed off his concerns with yet another blinding smile. The wink she gave him was so unexpectedly playful that it caught Travis off guard and left him wondering if he hadn’t, in fact, imagined it.

  “Don’t worry about that. Hopefully, I’ll be out of here by the time winter rolls around since I only plan on being here until I’m married.”

  Three

  As odd a look as Travis gave her, Lauren might as well have told him that she was catching a ride on the next spaceship to Mars. That he was so taken aback by her announcement was insulting. For the first time all day, she stiffened in his presence. She may not measure up to the supermodel types with whom he was rumored to cavort, but over the past few days she had come to the conclusion that a man could do worse than be seen around town with her.

  “I didn’t even know you were engaged,” Travis stammered.

  Lauren waved her hand as if dismissing something inconsequential.

  “I’m not. Yet.”

  A firm believer in the force of language, she subscribed to the concept that a person’s words shaped her future. That is, if she were to ask God for help and accepted what came about as a natural consequence of that prayer, Lauren liked to think that everything she needed would come to her at the perfect time. With her mother firmly entrenched in a new life, Lauren was ready to ask a generous universe to bestow upon her the man of her dreams. Whoever was sent to her didn’t have to be particularly good-looking or have lots of money. She just wanted to finish out the rest of her days with a gentle and kind man who loved children and appreciated a good woman. Too bad if
Travis Banks was above such humble dreams.

  “Don’t worry,” she said dryly, hoping to wipe the stricken look from his face with the same flirtatious sense of humor that had seemed to work earlier. “I can’t say that I’ve met the lucky man yet. But I believe the secret of success is a good set of plans.”

  Looking relieved to hear that he wasn’t presently in the crosshairs of her sights, he assumed the air of an amused Southerner as he drawled, “Why, Ms. Hewett, are you telling me that you are planning to entertain gentlemen callers on the property?”

  Without missing a beat, Lauren batted her eyelashes at him in gross exaggeration. But the tone she employed was thoroughly modern. “That is exactly what I’m telling you. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Her directness was disconcerting. Travis was surprised to feel a slight sense of relief to hear that she wasn’t engaged yet. Since he seriously doubted that a woman of Lauren’s sterling reputation was going to be throwing wild parties any time soon, he had no qualms about handing the key over to her—other than the fact that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind ever since she’d laid that harmless little kiss on him a couple of days ago.

  “Of course not,” he assured her with a wink of his own. “You can turn the place into a playgirl mansion for all I care.”

  Ignoring the blunt edge of his verbal irony, Lauren held out her hand to accept the key he offered. Freedom glinted off its brassy surface. Five miles out of town may not be enough to keep the local gossipmongers quiet, but it should be far enough away to give her a sense of privacy and autonomy.

  Her own place! What a sweet refrain those words were to a woman striking out on her own for the very first time. A world that only a few short days ago seemed parochial and plodding in its predictability suddenly sparkled with endless possibilities like so many diamonds glittering against a jeweler’s black velvet display cloth.