And The Winner--Weds!. Robin Wells

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СКАЧАТЬ take it you two have met?” Summer continued.

      “Yes, ma’am. But we hadn’t quite gotten around to introductions.” He treated Frannie to a blinding smile.

      Frannie had no choice but to reach out her hand. “F—Frannie Hannon.” Good grief, she could barely say her own name! It was a good thing she’d managed to spit it out before he touched her, because when his large, warm hand closed around hers, the ability to speak deserted her along with all coherent thought. She felt a sense of both relief and loss when he loosened his grip.

      She turned and shook hands with Tommy. The older man smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

      “Frannie, Austin Parker is the hottest ticket on the NASCAR circuit,” Summer said.

      “How…nice.”

      “Tommy here’s the really hot ticket,” Austin said, gesturing to his companion. “He’s my pit crew chief, so he’s the one who really runs the show. The crew’s what keeps a driver on the road.”

      “We’re delighted to have both of you here.” Summer’s smile included both men. “What can we do for you two gentlemen?”

      “I’d like to book a room for Tommy for the next few days, if you’ve got one available.” Austin shifted his hat to his other hand. “He’s going to be overhauling the engine on my car. I intended for him to stay out at my ranch, but I’m havin’ the place renovated and all the guest rooms are a wreck. Do you happen to have any vacancies?”

      “As a matter of fact, we’re nearly empty this evening.” Summer smiled at Tommy. “We’d be delighted to have you stay with us. Right, Frannie?”

      Frannie smiled wanly, edging her way back to the computer. That gleam in Summer’s eye meant she was up to her old match making tricks, and Frannie wanted no part of it. Trying to interest Austin in her would be like trying to interest a yacht owner in a rowboat. Turning, Frannie picked up a handful of receipts and lowered herself back into the wooden swivel chair.

      “Frannie, would you like to handle the check-in?” Summer prompted.

      Frannie froze. “I—I, uh…oh, gee, I really need to get these numbers into the computer. Since Gavin’s not here yet, could you go ahead and take care of it?”

      Summer had no choice but to graciously nod. “Why, sure.” She pulled a large leather book out from under the desk, opened it and angled it toward Tommy. “If you’d just sign in here, Mr. Deshaw.”

      The look she shot Frannie told her she was in for a lecture as soon as Summer got her alone. Frannie fervently hoped Gavin showed up before that happened.

      Frannie had no such luck. Austin had no sooner said his goodbyes and Tommy Deshaw headed to his room than Summer grabbed the back of Frannie’s chair and spun her around to face her. Frannie could tell from the way her cousin’s lips were pressed in a thin tight line that she was thoroughly exasperated.

      “What’s the big idea?” Summer demanded.

      “Of what?”

      “Of ignoring the most eligible bachelor to hit Whitehorn since my Gavin, that’s what.”

      “Oh, Summer, a man like that’s not going to be interested in the likes of me.”

      “Not if you turn your back to him and act rude!”

      “I wasn’t acting rude. I was acting busy. Which, it just so happens, I am.”

      Frannie was relieved to see Jasmine saunter into the front foyer, wearing a striking black pantsuit. Frannie seized on the opportunity to change the subject. “Jasmine, you look great.”

      “Thanks. What’s going on?”

      Summer pointed at Frannie. “A wonderful specimen of manhood just walked in here, and our cuz wouldn’t even talk to him.”

      “I didn’t have anything to say!” Frannie protested.

      “You don’t have to say anything, Frannie,” Summer said. “You just have to talk.”

      “Oh. Thanks for the clarification,” Frannie said dryly.

      Jasmine laughed. “You know what she means, Frannie. Make small talk. Be pleasant. Show you’re accessible.”

      “Let him know you’re interested,” Summer added. “Smile. Flirt.”

      “That’s easy for you two to say. I don’t know how to do any of that.”

      “Well, then, it’s high time you learned. Jasmine and I can teach you.”

      Jasmine nodded vigorously.

      “Oh, no.” Frannie held up her hands, palms out. “No way. No, thanks.”

      Jasmine’s flawless forehead creased in a frown. “Why not?”

      “Because it wouldn’t work. Besides, I’d feel like an idiot.”

      “No, you wouldn’t. Not for long, anyway.” Jasmine circled the front desk and stopped in front of Frannie, her hands on her hips. “Think about it, Frannie. Isn’t it better to feel a little silly for a little while than to feel lonely forever?”

      Lonely forever—was that what they thought she was destined to be? A sharp little knife of pain sliced into Frannie’s heart. “There are worse things than being lonely,” she mumbled.

      Such as being humiliated. And heart broken. And feeling like a pathetic fool.

      Summer’s dark eyes filled with sympathy. “Just because you had a bad experience with one guy in college is no reason to shy away from all other men for the rest of your life.”

      It wasn’t just a bad experience, Frannie thought, it was an amputation of part of her soul. Joe had not only betrayed her; he’d emotionally maimed her. He’d stripped her of her self-confidence and her ability to trust anyone.

      Frannie pushed back her chair and rose, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not shying away. I’m just minding my own business, living my own life.”

      “Frannie, you’re practically a recluse,” Jasmine said softly.

      “I’m not!”

      “Yes, you are,” Summer affirmed. “You never go to any parties or social events. You go to work at the bank, then you come home and work here. And if an attractive man happens to come within a mile of you, you duck your head and avoid making eye contact.”

      “And then there’s the matter of how you dress,” Jasmine added gently. “You’re hiding all of your best qualities. You have a great figure, but no one would ever know it under the clothes you wear. You have beautiful eyes, but instead of wearing your contact lenses, you hide behind your glasses. I’d love to have thick, curly hair like yours, but instead of making the most of it, you keep it skinned back in a ponytail or a tight little bun.”

      Frannie was surprised to find herself blinking back tears. “Sorry СКАЧАТЬ