The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 2. Сьюзен Мэллери

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      He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Just because I’ve brought you into town doesn’t mean you have the right to say anything you want to me.”

      “Sure it does. Here you’re not my boss. You’re just a guy who’s terrified of female stuff.”

      He rocked back on his heels. “I’m not afraid.”

      Wondering what it was about this man that made her want to have fun, she stretched out her hand and touched his cheek. “You ever have a facial, Brady? You could use something to tighten those pores.”

      He jerked his head away as if she’d burned him. “My pores are just fine.”

      “And those little lines around your eyes. They have stuff to prevent that.”

      He turned toward the storefront next to them. The large plate-glass window reflected the street. Brady frowned, then smiled, as if checking his wrinkle quotient.

      Randi covered her mouth to hold in her laughter. Who would have thought this big, tough cowboy would be so easy to tease?

      “I don’t know what you’re—” He glanced at her and drew his eyebrows together. “You’re laughing!” His voice accused her of an unforgivable crime.

      “No, I’m not.” She swallowed hard and forced her expression to stay neutral.

      “You’re mocking me. I don’t have a problem with my pores, or my eyes.”

      She gave in to humor and chuckled. Brady grinned. “I’ve been had,” he complained. “You should warn a man when you’re going to take advantage of him.”

      “You love the attention.”

      “Hey, I’m the strong, silent type. You want to continue to make fun of me, or do you want to shop?”

      She folded her arms over her chest. “Tough decision. Can I really pick either one?”

      “Why do I put up with you?” He placed his hand on the back of her neck and pushed her forward.

      “Because there isn’t another alternative.”

      She was proud of herself for managing a relatively long, coherent sentence. It was hard enough to keep breathing, let alone talking, while Brady was touching her neck.

      She told herself it was an impersonal gesture at best. That it didn’t mean anything. He was treating her like a little sister. Funny, though. She didn’t feel like his little sister. She felt strangely alive and happy. Being here with him—she couldn’t explain it, it just felt so right.

      When they reached the store, he released her neck and grabbed the door. As he pulled it open, he motioned for her to go first. Polite, charming, funny, sensitive, amazingly good-looking. Her original question still stood. Why wasn’t he married? Were all the women in the county blind, or was there something she couldn’t figure out? Some flaw he’d kept hidden, or maybe something from his past?

      He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the center aisle. “Female clothing to your right. Creams and junk to your left. Shoes are upstairs. I have a meeting with my banker, so I’ll be gone for about an hour and a half.”

      She turned her head so she could see him. “I’ve shopped before. Amazingly enough, on my own. So far I’ve avoided major disasters and shoplifting. I’ll be fine.”

      “You have enough money?”

      The question touched her, mostly because his concern was involuntary. He was the last of the good guys.

      “My boss just gave me a raise. I’ve got plenty.”

      “Have fun.”

      He disappeared out onto the street. Randi looked over the store, then started toward the racks of dresses against the far wall. She needed something for the dance. Maybe she would pick up another pair of jeans and some T-shirts, too.

      An hour and fifteen minutes later, she stepped onto the escalator to the ground floor. She’d bought a simple summer dress, on sale, along with a pair of jeans and two shirts. In the shoe department, she’d found an inexpensive pair of pumps. Everything she’d purchased had cost less than the cheapest dress in her closet in Grand Springs. If it didn’t have a designer label on it, her mother didn’t want it in the house.

      Those clothes weren’t her, she thought as she moved down the center aisle, glancing left and right, looking for Brady. It had taken her a long time to finally figure out she didn’t care about who made the clothes as long as they fit and were comfortable. Keeping up with the latest styles didn’t interest her, nor did she worry about a trendy haircut. Thank goodness, because with her unruly curls, she was destined to always look a little messy.

      She reached the front door, then turned back to face the store. On the far side, in the middle of the “creams and junk” department, she saw Brady talking with an older woman. From the way they chatted and laughed, they must be old friends. That made sense. Growing up near a town this small, Brady probably knew just about everyone.

      As she crossed the store, she tried to ignore the flickering in her stomach. The butterflies had returned. She sighed. She wanted her nerves to be about coming to town, not about Brady. While he was nice and handsome and a lot of good things, he wasn’t for her.

      She paused in the middle of the teen department and stared at him. He was so different from Hal. Not just in looks, but in temperament and style. Hal was the kind of man who measured every action based on how it would look and how many votes it was worth. So different from his mother, Olivia, the beloved mayor of Grand Springs. Hal was more like Randi’s mother—cold and always calculating. One the other hand, Brady acted a certain way because he believed it was right, regardless of who might or might not be watching. Hal was a politician down to his bones. Brady was just a man.

      She’d known her ex-fiancé for years, yet, looking back at their courtship, she could easily admit she’d never known him at all. Brady had been in her life two-and-a-half weeks, yet she felt that she understood him and the code by which he lived.

      Brady looked up and saw her. “You about finished?” he asked.

      She nodded and held up her bags. “I’ve bought as much as I can carry. That’s when it’s time for me to leave.”

      He walked over and relieved her of most of her purchases. “I thought we might stop at the ice cream shop on the way out of town. I’ve got a taste for a hot fudge sundae.”

      Randi raised her eyebrows. “It’s nearly four o’clock. You’ll spoil your dinner.”

      “I know. You have to promise not to tell Tex.”

      Ice cream and hot fudge? How could she resist? “I’d love to join you,” she said. “If we try really hard, I’ll bet we can eat just as much dinner, too.”

      “Deal.”

      They shared a conspiratorial glance, then headed toward the street. Even though it was a temporary situation, Randi enjoyed fitting in. Brady was different off the ranch. Freer. Or maybe it was both of them. She’d been worried about coming into town, but she was having fun. Somewhere СКАЧАТЬ