finished off Miss Delilah’s honest way of work.
Because, rumor had it, it wasn’t just a close shave being sold across the street by the Never Lonely girls, which left Miss Delilah with very few clients indeed. She’d had to let half her staff go last month. Fortunately, Union Junction had welcomed the nine newcomers. Yet, how cruel of Marvella to deliberately set out to ruin her own sister!
Not yet, Katy told herself, as Laredo closed the salon door behind them. Not if she had anything to do with it.
Outside, the sun shone brightly on the pavement. If it was possible, Laredo looked even more handsome in bright light.
Flirting skills. Enticement. Clearly, she was lacking in some womanly fundamentals, she decided. Because Becky, her ex-best friend, who even now was no doubt having her thong removed by the apparently lusty Stanley Katy had never known, would have roped, tied and thrown Laredo to the ground, all without doing much more than smiling. Rolling her hips. Showing pretty knees beneath her daily miniskirt parade.
Becky would have had a yes out of Laredo before he’d even drawn another breath.
That didn’t mean she was sexless or frigid, Katy assured herself. It just meant she hadn’t ever tried flirting. She didn’t get an F just because she didn’t take the course.
She took a deep breath, marshaled up her best Barbie smile, widened her eyes and sucked in her stomach so her breasts would at least marginally appear through her linen ankle-length dress—a move she was copying straight from the Never Lonely Cut-N-Gurl handbook. Her posture thrown off by the sudden stiffness, Katy placed a hand on Laredo’s forearm for support, which he gallantly covered with his other hand, as if she truly were a doll worth holding! Maybe Becky had been onto something with all that gooey a-man-is-made-to-be-adored stuff. “You were going to tell me about a teensy little ol’ problem, Laredo?” she asked, so sweetly she was certain sugar drizzled out of her mouth. “I’m just positive a man like you never lets a little ol’ bump in the road stop him.”
He nodded, frowning, seemingly flustered by her full-force display of flirt-go-ditz.
“I’ve never ridden a bull,” Laredo said.
THE EXPRESSION on Katy’s face was no longer hero worship, and Laredo felt as if all the air had been let out of him. Bam! Just like that, he was an ordinary mortal again. And here he’d been dreaming of doing something big with his life.
“Never ridden a bull,” Katy murmured, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “But you live at the Malfunction Junction Ranch. All your brothers bull ride. I saw the ribbons and trophies. There must have been hundreds.”
He shook his head. “Not me, though. Mason figured I was the one most likely to have a wandering foot that’d take to the rodeo lifestyle permanently. It’s one of the very few things I would admit that my brother guessed right about me. And Last never has, either, but that’s because he was the baby and Mason didn’t have time to teach him to ride much of anything except a horse. Actually, Last never really did learn to ride a horse very well.” He realized he was babbling, trying to fill in space so he wouldn’t have to finish letting Katy down.
“Wandering foot?” Katy repeated. “What does that have to do with staying on a bull?”
He ran a gentle finger along the curve of her chin. God, how he hated disappointing her. She really was a cute little thing in her sandals and long dress, just like a girl playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes. He liked the fact that she had little or no makeup on. Her hair was a bit ruffled, which he wouldn’t have expected for someone who worked in a beauty salon. Everything about her seemed somehow fresh and innocent, from her big blue eyes to the dark bangs that framed them. “Mason was determined to keep our family together. It’s a long story, but it has to do with the fact that our father left when most of us were young and Mason got stuck with the details of parenting. He made decisions the best he could. Sometimes he was wrong. But most of the time, he was dead-on.”
“So you’re a restless type.”
“That’s right.”
She pulled her chin away from his finger. “I wouldn’t know the feeling.”
He eyed her, knowing that she wouldn’t find that adjective attractive in a man. But that was okay, because he wasn’t trying to suit himself up to be attractive to her. “I don’t suspect you would.”
“So you never got to ride a bull?”
“I could have sneaked around. Last wasn’t supposed to, either, but he did just the same. Mason didn’t want the baby of the family busting himself up.”
“Of course not,” she murmured.
“But Last has always done whatever he pleased.”
She glanced up at him. “But you obeyed your brother.”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t quibble with his logic. I didn’t want the family separated myself, and I wouldn’t have been the one to do it. No one else seemed to have a hankering to leave the ranch like I did.”
“You’ve left now,” she said.
“Yes.”
Hope flared in her eyes. “Maybe now is the time to disobey Mason about bull riding!”
He laughed. “I don’t have to obey him anymore. But I wouldn’t be any good at riding, Katy. I never learned. And there’s more to it than getting on.”
She looked as if she might cry any second.
“Here,” he said gently, “let’s take a walk. Tell me what’s going on, and maybe I can help you resolve your situation.”
“I need a hero,” she said stubbornly.
He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “I promise I think better than I ride. Come on. Walk and talk.”
She sighed, not liking his offer one bit, but clearly seeing no way to refuse. “There’s a lot at stake.”
“You don’t look like the kind of girl who hangs around rodeos, Katy.” He eyed her curves underneath her long dress with appreciation. She’d look mighty fine in blue jeans—
“I’m not,” she said as they began to walk side by side. She glanced up, almost catching him eyeing those curves. “Until last week, I’d never even seen a bull up close.”
“What happened last week?” He couldn’t resist asking since her head had drooped, her pretty sable-colored hair swinging forward as she spoke. “Tell Uncle Laredo.”
She shot him a wry look. “You are not my uncle, cowboy.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m supposed to be the hero. Only I got shot off my horse.”
“Bull, not horse.” She sighed. “Every year Miss Delilah buys a bull from one of the local FFA kids. The kids raise their bulls, usually from the time they were born, until they auction them at the fair. This pays for college and other expenses. Then Delilah enters her bull in certain events, such as riding, and best hoof painting.”
“Hoof painting?” He put out a hand to slow her determined gait. “You act like
