The 15 Lb. Matchmaker. Jill Limber

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СКАЧАТЬ him press his fingers to his forehead, even though he’d offered her a job, she hadn’t made a very good first impression.

      She hadn’t missed how he had emphasized the fact that the position came with a time limit. That was fine with her; all she needed was a temporary position.

      Jolie was not going to react to the annoyed expression on Mr. Price’s face as he stared at her. How often had she caved in to her overbearing father when he had scowled at her like that?

      Courage, Jolie, she told herself.

      Helen knew Griff Price, and she must think it was okay for Jolie to work for him or she wouldn’t have suggested it. She cleared her throat and was about to suggest he sit down and have a cup of coffee.

      “Well, are you coming?” The sole of his boot slapped impatiently against the worn flooring.

      She did want the job, but found it easier to say she was going to live with courage, harder to actually do it. “Yes, let’s—”

      “Come on, it’s late,” he said gruffly, cutting her off.

      He jammed his hat back on his head. Then in one fluid movement he picked up her jacket, tossed it to her, lifted her suitcase, turned and strode out of the diner.

      Dumbfounded, she watched him disappear into the twilight with her bag.

      He might be one of the best-looking men she had ever met, but he had the manners of a boor.

      Hurriedly she slid out of her seat, pulled four dollars out of her precious hoard, then slapped the bills down on the table. Exasperated by his rude behavior, Jolie approached Helen, who was setting a nearby table.

      “Excuse me, but do you know Mr. Price very well?”

      Helen smiled and nodded. “Sure do. I went to high school with his daddy. He comes from a fine family. Prices been running the Circle P spread for almost a hundred years.”

      Jolie looked uncertainly at the door. “He didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions,” she said, more to herself than Helen.

      Helen smiled. “Oh, don’t worry—”

      “You coming or not?” Everyone in the diner turned as Griff Price stuck his head in the door and hollered at her, cutting off what Helen was about to say. Then he left without waiting for her to answer.

      Jolie felt the blood rise in her cheeks. She’d made him angry.

      Helen gave Jolie a gentle push toward the door. “That boy’s always in a hurry. Margie will fill you in when you get to his place. She’s going to visit her sick sister, but you can talk to her before she leaves.”

      So that was why he needed a baby-sitter, Jolie thought as she followed him out the door, her stomach tied in knots at the thought she’d annoyed him. His wife was leaving.

      On her way out she hurriedly summed up what she knew about the man, still trying to decide if going with him was a reasonable plan.

      He was married, from a good family and offering a job she knew she could do. She had decided to live with courage and do something outrageous every day. Now it seemed as though she was going to be put to the test.

      Besides, Jolie thought, her other choice was to bed down in her car in Winslow’s garage.

      She assured herself if she didn’t feel comfortable with the situation when she got to their home, she’d ask Margie Price to bring her back to the diner.

      By the time Jolie got to the parking lot, he was at the passenger door hefting her bag into the back seat of the biggest pickup truck Jolie had ever seen. She stopped about five feet from the cowboy.

      He pointed at the open door. “Get in. I’ve got stock to tend to.”

      Taken aback by his abrupt behavior, Jolie inched toward the truck. “Don’t you want references?” she asked.

      Not that she could give him any work references, but it seemed like a good question to ask before they got too far out of town.

      He stared at her for a moment. “No. Is there some good reason you’re stalling?”

      “No, I—”

      “You told Helen you’d taken care of your family’s kids,” he said cutting her off and frowning at her as if he thought she might have lied to him.

      “Yes, I did,” she said, not quite knowing how she should respond to his lack of courtesy. She shivered as the cold evening air penetrated her thin blouse.

      “Good,” he answered, with such a tone of relief in his voice she relaxed a little. “You do want the job, don’t you?” he asked, still staring, his tone back to edgy.

      Jolie paused for another moment to shrug into her jacket, then decided she was being foolish to hesitate. “Yes, I do.”

      Her other choices sucked.

      “Okay.” He took two strides to get to her, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and set her on the seat.

      Breathless at the suddenness of his bold action and the feel of his hands on her, she scrambled to get her feet in before he closed the door on them.

      She took a deep breath and watched him stride around to the driver’s door, hop in, then turn the key in the ignition. The truck’s engine started with a roar.

      He muttered something under his breath and pulled out of the parking lot while she was still struggling to find her seat belt. Holding the shoulder strap, Jolie dug down behind the seat to locate the buckle.

      Suddenly his big warm hand slid along her hip and fished the fastener out from behind the seat.

      She felt a zing of sensation where he’d touched her, then immediately chided herself.

      He was married.

      And she had sworn off men.

      She murmured a quick thank-you. Hoping he couldn’t see her face flush, she managed to connect the two ends of the belt.

      The silence in the cab grew until Jolie couldn’t stand it anymore. “Is your home very far?”

      He shifted on the seat and shrugged one shoulder. “Nope.”

      Jolie waited for more of an explanation, but apparently that was his whole answer. She’d have to try another subject. “Mr. Price, how many children do you have?”

      He cleared his throat. “Griff.”

      Jolie turned to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”

      “My name is Griff. There’s one child.”

      Jolie nodded and waited for him to give her more information. He stared straight ahead at the road.

      Her annoyance grew until after a few moments she decided one of them needed to show some manners, so she tried again. “Griff, is your child a boy or a girl?”

      “Boy.”

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