Had my notoriety already reached small-town America? My fear subsided when I realized that two words prevailed among the excited murmurs of the crowd. One was Pappy. The other was niece.
Two elderly men who’d been watching from the barbershop window elbowed their way through the crowd. Each wore an apron with Bald Eagle Barber emblazoned across the front.
“Well, I’ll be doggone. We haven’t had a new resident in a long while. Don’t know if we’ve ever had such a purty one, neither.” One of the old men stuck his hand out at me and wagged his overgrown brows. “My name’s Donald, and this here’s my brother, Daffy.”
I couldn’t tell if they were serious about their names, but I shook both their hands and smiled warmly back at them, grateful to finally be seeing friendly faces. “Sam Jackson. Nice to meet you both.”
Jimi cleared his throat. “You said something about a flyer?”
I glanced up. “Yes, I made some flyers hoping I could post them at some of the local businesses.” I handed a flyer to Donald, whose eyes scanned the page. “Maybe you could post one in the barbershop?” Daffy leaned over Donald’s shoulder, his mouth moving as he silently read what I’d scrawled on the piece of legal paper.
HUSBAND WANTED
For a platonic marriage
Must have strong work ethic and ranching experience
Offering room, board, and 50/50 profit sharing
Apply in person at Rattlesnake Ranch
Marital relations NOT included
Their eyes widened to saucers. As the flyer was passed around from person to person, someone caught the corner of my eye. Clint.
He stood apart from the crowd with his arms crossed over his chest, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his face pinched in a disapproving scowl. He stared straight at me, his blue eyes blazing with displeasure.
Grumpy pants.
Although his presence rattled me a bit, I ignored Clint and focused instead on Donald, Daffy, and Jimi—the three men standing in front of me, smiling amiably.
“I called yesterday and left a message for an ad to be run in the local paper, but...”
Jimi nodded. “Rattler Tattler only comes out on Wednesdays.”
“Exactly! That wasn’t mentioned at the time.” And, had I known, I could have saved myself a world of embarrassment this morning. “I figured the flyers might fare better anyway. I actually planned to find the newspaper office while I was here in town and cancel the ad. If one of you could point me in the right direction…?”
Daffy laughed. “You mean Betty? She don’t have any offices, honey. She just writes the paper at her kitchen table and runs off copies on her home Xerox machine.”
Donald straightened, grinned widely, and tucked my arm through his, shoving his brother out of the way. “I’d be happy to give you a tour of the town, though.”
Daffy elbowed his brother in the side as he squeezed between us and wrapped my arm through his instead. “Betty’s over at the diner right now. If you want to catch her, it’ll be my pleasure to escort you.”
Donald scowled and looked as though he was about to go to blows with Daffy.
“Dads, knock it off! Both of you. Give the poor woman some breathing room.” Jimi glanced at me apologetically.
“Dads?” I looked from Donald to Daffy to Jimi.
“Jimi’s our boy.” Daffy beamed proudly. He’s the brains of the family.”
“You can’t see the resemblance?” Donald winked.
There was none.
Jimi was tall, handsome, and clearly of African descent. Donald and Daffy were short, round, nearly bald, prune-faced Caucasian men. But the grins on their faces were comical, and I giggled at the two old men, who were trying so hard to be both funny and charming.
“They raised me.” Jimi shrugged. “We’re an unconventional family.”
“Ah.” I nodded, playing along. “In that case, I most definitely see a resemblance.”
“This little lady’s as blind as old Miss Shirley Temple.” Daffy snorted and slapped Donald on the shoulder. “Come on, now. We’ll introduce you to Betty.”
Since Jimi had to get back to work, he said goodbye and that he hoped to see me again soon.
“He’s the town librarian, our Jimi.” Donald’s eyes shone with pride.
The crowd that had gathered wasn’t dying down. In fact, it looked to be growing, and once again, my attention was caught by Clint. He was still standing with his arms crossed over his chest, still glaring, and still looking as though he was about to spontaneously combust.
What the hell is the man’s problem?
“Let’s move along, honey. Once Betty’s finished eating, she’ll be on her way to bingo and there’s no stopping her then.”
Daffy looked over at Donald, who nodded in agreement. “Nothing comes between Betty and her bingo.”
With an old man on each arm, I headed to the Chuckwagon Diner.
The whole time, I pretended I couldn’t feel Clint’s eyes on me.
Chapter 6
Shay
Stepping into the Chuckwagon was like stepping into a different era. The interior was retro—straight out of the 1950s—black and white checkered floor tile, red and white vinyl booths and barstools, and white tabletops trimmed in chrome.
There was a jukebox in the far corner, and Daffy nudged me toward the woman sitting in the booth beside it. The woman couldn’t have been a day younger than sixty. Her hair was tied up in a bouffant style with a bright-red bandana that matched her lipstick, and her halter top showed more cleavage than the Grand Canyon. She looked up from her pancakes and batted her long false lashes.
Daffy bowed—yes, bowed—in front of her. “Betty, may I just say you’re looking mighty fine today.”
Donald elbowed Daffy aside and kissed Betty’s hand like an old English gentleman. “Truly, Betty, you take my breath away.”
Betty arched her shoulder forward while dipping her chin in a fake display of coy flirting. “Oh, Daf and Don, you boys are such charmers.”
When her gaze shifted to me, Donald stepped aside. “Betty this is Sam Jackson. Pappy’s niece. She has something she needs to talk to you about. Sam, this is Betty Crocker.”
“Crocker? Your name is Betty Crocker? For real?”
What was it with the weird names of the residents of this town? Betty, Daffy, and Donald exchanged glances.
“Why, yes, honey, that’s right. And I’m so pleased to meet you. Boys, leave us ladies to talk, will ya?”
Just like that, both men backed away, grinning and elbowing each other. As I turned to watch them go, I was surprised to notice Clint step through the door. His gaze was on me, and when I met his eyes, he didn’t smile, nor did he look away. He was definitely still wearing his grumpy pants. Was he following me?
Don’t be silly, Shay, of course he’s not following you!
It was past noon, but still within a reasonable time frame for a late lunch or early dinner. That was probably what he was doing, grabbing himself a late lunch or early dinner. It wasn’t as though there were tons of places to eat in Rattlesnake.
Our eyes remained fixed on one another as he walked up to the lunch counter and took a seat. An attractive woman followed him in and seated herself next to him. She leaned toward him and said something, but Clint’s eyes didn’t leave mine. That was when I realized everyone in the place was watching us, noticing the fact that we were still staring at one another. I quickly dropped my gaze.
Betty glanced from me to Clint and back. “So, honey, what can I do for you?”
I blinked a few times before sinking into the booth across from her. “Um…” The question on the forefront of my mind was what was up with the funky names of the people in this town, but I decided to hold my tongue as a question like that might come off as rude, especially from a newcomer.
“I believe I left you a message yesterday about placing an ad in the newspaper for a mail-order groom.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “A mail order…whaaat?
”
“I take it you didn’t receive my voice message?”
“Well, now, I only listen to the messages line twice a week. It’s usually ten or twenty messages—all from Flip Wilson wondering why I haven’t done a writeup on his latest UFO sighting. He sees them several times a week.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He hits the bottle a might too hard on occasion.”
I had nothing to say to that, so I just nodded.
After several seconds of awkward silence, Betty took my hand. “So, honey, why don’t you tell me all about this voice message of yours.”
“Right. Okay. Um, I left the message before I knew the paper only ran once a week. I’d like to cancel it. I’ve made up a few flyers that I’m planning to distribute to local businesses around town instead.”
“I see. Okay, I’ll disregard the message, but would you mind if I take a look at one of those flyers?” She motioned to the sheets of paper I still clutched to my chest. I dropped them in front of her.
Betty scanned the top paper, and her head snapped up so fast that her big hair kind of bounced back and forth a few times before settling down.
“Does this say platonic? As in no sex?”
I nodded and squeezed my hands together under the table. “I’m looking for a marriage in name only. I can’t afford to hire help, so I thought a good solution would be to offer a legal partnership. Upon divorce, we’d divide assets.”
“Divorce?” She stared at me a few moments as though she didn’t comprehend the word before snapping back to attention. “Okay. Platonic marriage...”
“It would be legal and we’d split whatever profits the ranch brought in for the term of the marriage. Everything fair and square.”
She still wore an incredulous look. “Just minus the orgasms.” Betty’s voice carried around the diner and I cringed.
A round woman wearing an apron appeared next to us and snapped a hand towel out so the end flicked Betty’s arm. “Keep it PG in here.”
“What for? There are no children.” Betty winked at me. “There are a few women who could use a good lay, though. Get all uptight when you mention orgasms.”
The other woman snapped the towel again, this time whacking Betty’s generous cleavage, then turned to me. “Hello, dear. I’m Gladys Knight. I run this here place. I hear you’re Pappy’s kin.”
I looked around, wondering how she’d heard that so fast. “Yes, I am. I’m Sam Jackson.”
She patted me on the shoulder and sighed. “We all loved your uncle. The town isn’t the same without him.” She choked on the words, and both women looked away and dabbed at their eyes.
Gladys was the first to recover. “I’m gonna bring you a stack of my huckleberry flapjacks on the house. They’re my specialty.”
“Oh, can I take a rain check? I’m not hungry, but if I could ask a favor, would you mind if I left a flyer here?”
Before Gladys could reply, Betty chimed in, “Oh, honey I don’t think you’re going to need to go distributing those flyers of yours. Word travels pretty fast around here, especially if the double D’s know.”
“Double D’s?
Gladys nodded. “Donald and Daffy. They’re the biggest gossips this side of the Mississippi.”
“Still, I’m kind of pressed for time—”
Betty shook her head. “Time won’t be an issue.” She motioned with a nod and I peered around Gladys to see what Betty was gesturing to.
Sure enough, I wasn’t going to need the flyers.
Chapter 7
Clint
My eye twitched something fierce.
I noticed Sam the minute she walked out of Bear Buns Bakery with Jimi.
Most of what she’d told me this morning was the truth, but not all of it. I knew this because Variants could easily detect lies. It was a skill we possessed. There was definitely an aura of deception about her. The quiver in her voice, the slight hesitation—Sam wasn’t even a good liar.
The whole drive back into town from Pappy’s, my thoughts had been plagued by Samantha Jackson and her zany idea to marry a stranger so she’d have help with the chores.
Who was I kidding?
What I really couldn’t stop thinking about was the delicious aroma of ripe strawberries that surrounded her, and the way her ass wiggled when she huffed angrily and stomped away from me. Then there was that bottom lip of hers that trembled and pouted when I’d scolded her about her lack of concern for her own safety. Even the fact that she was annoyingly irritating did things to me that I’d never felt before. It made my insides all warm and mushy.
Flower chains on the cows? I chuckled. I never met a woman quite like her, and a part of me knew I never would again. Sam Jackson was one of a kind.
She was still on my mind a couple hours later when I peered through the blinds of the courthouse windows and saw a crowd beginning to gather. I emerged to investigate and about flipped my top as I got near enough to find Sam smack dab in the middle of it.
Murmurs about her search for a husband spread through the group like wildfire, especially among the single male Variants.
Sonofabitch.
She was actually doing it. She was actually gonna marry one of ‘em.
I snatched the flyer that was being passed around right out of Luke Skywalker’s hands. When he started to protest, I shot him an I-fucking-dare-you look. Luke wisely backed down. Unfortunately, half the single men in town had already read it before I managed to confiscate it, and the other half were quickly learning of its contents through word of mouth.
Sam was talking to Donald, Daffy, and Jimi. I knew Jimi wasn’t a threat. I’d only ever seen him show an interest in one woman, and that was a very long time ago. Donald and Daffy were flirting up a storm, but those old fools were harmless—all bark, no bite. Besides, who could blame them? Sam seemed to have a talent for captivating everyone she came across.
“Dude, you’re growling.” Gomer, standing next to me, pulled me out of my thoughts. Fuck, I was growling. I didn’t want to admit it, but I hated all the attention Sam was getting. Handfuls of men chattering about the cute blonde Norm and her quest for a husband.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all.
Donald and Daffy were leading her toward the diner. My feet took it upon themselves to follow. I sidled up to the lunch counter and ordered something from Gladys. I wasn’t really sure what it was I ordered. I was too busy watching Sam.
“If you scowl any harder, your face might freeze that way.” Frida nudged my arm from the stool next to me. I hadn’t even realized she’d followed me in.
“Har, har.”
“You could just go and talk to her, you know? Instead of staring after her like some lovesick pup.”
Forcibly pulling my gaze away from the table where Sam sat with Betty, I turned to Frida and frowned. “I ain’t staring, and I ain’t lovesick.”
She threw her head back and barked a laughed. “Clint, you have never been a good liar, and you still aren’t one. Besides, the whole place can hear you growling.”
I drew in a sharp breath. I was growling. Again. Damn.
“Gomer said you confiscated the flyer she passed out and that you haven’t been able to take your eyes off her since she stepped into town.”
“Yeah? Well, Gomer needs to mind his own business and stay out of everybody else’s.”
“Gomer has no business of his own. Everybody else’s is all he’s got.” She quirked a brow. “Although, if’n he plays his cards right, he just might have the business of being a husband to a very popular and very pretty newcomer in town.”
I said nothing, but my head swung back in Sam’s direction. Fuck. Single men were lining up in front of the booth where Sam sat with Betty. The line was so long, it trailed across the diner and out the door. The fuckers were practically drooling over her. And Gomer was at the head of the line.
“Maybe you want to throw your hat into the ring before she stops taking applicants?”
Hell, yeah, I did!
No…no, I didn’t!
There was no way I was going to do something so stupid as to marry someone I barely knew. She was a Norm. And she was full of trouble. Trouble and lies. I could smell both on her.
Trouble, lies, and strawberries.
It didn’t matter that my body reacted to hers like I was slowly burning alive with every moment I refrained from touching her. I was stronger than giving into whatever carnal desires my body was going through.
“You’re as stubborn as a mule, Clint.”
Sam had just noticed the lineup in front of her, and her attention was on my younger brother, Gomer. The noise of the other men in the diner kept me from being able to hear what was being said between them, but I didn’t need to hear it. I could imagine what Gomer might be saying. He and I were both highly competitive, and unlike myself, Gomer was a hopeless romantic who was in love with a different woman every week. He’d undoubtedly be pulling out all the stops to win Sam over. The thought of him professing his heart to her and her accepting a marriage proposal from him was too much. Way too much.
I wasn’t about to sit here and watch that happen.
I leaped off the stool, marched across the diner, and squeezed between Gomer and the booth where Sam was sitting.
I kept my back to Sam, and my gaze trained on my brother. His eyes widened in shock. I knew what he was seeing. I was seconds from changing forms, and I had no doubt it showed in my eyes.
“Leave.”
My voice was barely human. Gomer knew better than to question me. There was hardly a moment when he and I were together that we weren’t teasing each other, playing practical jokes on one another, or competing with one another, but Gomer could see in my eyes and the way I was holding myself together by barely a thread that this was not a moment to fuck with me.
He quickly spun and took care of the remaining men. I heard grumbles and complaints, but it was pretty evident that unless someone wanted to be trampled by a very angry animal, or locked up in a jail cell for the night, they better scram.
The Moose Shifter's Fake Wife: A Steamy Shifter Rom-Com Page 4
