the money.” A gust of wind slipped into the three-sided enclosure and stirred her hair, blowing a few fiery strands across her mouth.
He smoothed them out of the way, guiding them behind her ear, thinking how soft her pale skin was and marveling at how she’d grown up to be downright hot. It was a good thing he’d always promised himself he’d never make a move on her. Add that promise to the fact that he’d sworn off women and he should be able to keep from getting any romantic ideas about her.
“Travis?” She searched his face. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard.” He ordered his mind off her inconvenient hotness and set it on coming up with more reasons she should take less than half the prize.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single one.
So all right, then. His new house and his investment in the ranch would be smaller. But his chances of winning had just doubled—more than doubled. Because Brenna was a fighter, and together they would go all the way to the win.
“Fair enough, Bren. Fifty-fifty, you and me.” He held up his hand.
She slapped a high five on it. “I’ll be right back.”
He caught her before she could get away. “There’s more we need to talk about.”
“Not until I get the okay from Bee, we don’t.” She glanced down at his fingers wrapped around her upper arm.
He let go. “What will you say to her?”
“That I might have a chance on The Great Roundup, but to try for it, I need to know that she’ll let me have my booth back on August 1.”
“Good. That’s good. Don’t mention the engagement yet. We still need to decide how to handle that.”
She let out another sweet, happy laugh—and then mimed locking her mouth and tossing away the key. “My lips are sealed,” she whispered, then whirled on her heel and headed for the back door.
Five endless minutes later, she returned.
“Well?” he asked, his heart pounding a worried rhythm beneath his ribs.
Her smile burst wide open. “Bee wished us luck.”
“And?”
“Yes, she’ll hold my booth for me.”
He almost grabbed her and hugged her, but caught himself in time. “Excellent.”
“Yeah—and is there some reason we need to hang around out here? Let’s go in. I’ll give you that trim you pretended you needed.”
He heard a scratching sound, boots crunching gravel. “What’s that?”
He signaled for silence and stuck his head out of the enclosure in time to see the back of crazy old Homer Gilmore as he scuttled away across the parking lot toward the community center on Main, the next street over.
Brenna stuck her head out, too. “It’s just Homer.”
They retreated together back into the enclosure. He asked, “You think he heard us?”
She was completely unconcerned. “Even if he did, Homer’s not going to say anything.”
“And you know this how?”
“He’s a little odd, but he minds his own business.”
“A little odd? He’s the one who spiked the punch with moonshine at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding two years ago.”
“So?” The wind stirred her hair again. She combed it back off her forehead with her fingers. “He never gossips or carries tales. To tell you the truth, I trust him.”
“Because...?”
“It’s just, well, I don’t know. I have this feeling that he looks out for me, like a guardian angel or a fairy godmother.”
Travis couldn’t help scoffing, “One who just happens to be a peculiar old homeless man.”
“He’s not homeless. People just assume he is. He’s got a shack on Falls Mountain he stays in.”
“Who told you that?”
“He did. And he’s not going to say anything. I guarantee it. Now, let’s go in and—”
Travis put up a hand. “Just a minute. A couple more things. Starting tomorrow night, we’re madly in love. You’ll need to convince a bunch of LA TV people that I’m the only guy for you.”
“Well, that’s a lot to ask,” she teased. “But I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll need to make everyone in town believe it, too—including your family. They all have to think we’re for real.”
“Trav, I can do it.” She was all determination now. “You can count on me.”
“That’s what I needed to hear.”
“Then, can we go in?”
“There’s one more thing...”
“What?”
“It’s important tomorrow night that you be on. You need to show them your most outgoing self. Sell your own personality.” When she nodded up at him, he went on, “I did a lot of research on reality shows before I went into this. What I learned is that the show is a story, Bren. A story told in weekly episodes. And a good story is all about big personalities, characters you can’t forget, over-the-top emotions. What I’m saying is, you can’t be shy. It’s better to embarrass yourself than to be all bottled up and boring. Are you hearing what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I am. And let me ask you something. When have you ever known me to be boring?”
Her various escapades over the years scrolled through his mind. At the age of nine, she’d gotten mad at her mom and run away. She got all the way to Portland, Oregon, before they caught up with her. At twelve, she’d coldcocked one of the Peabody boys when she caught him picking on a younger kid. Peabody hit the ground hard. It took thirty stitches to sew him back up. At sixteen, she’d rolled her pickup over a cliff because she never could resist a challenge and Leonie Parker had dared her to race up Falls Mountain. Only the good Lord knew how she’d survived that crash without major injury.
The more Travis thought of all the crazy things she’d done, the more certain he became that Brenna O’Reilly would have no problem selling herself to Giselle and the rest of them. “All right. I hear you.”
“Good. ’Cause I’m a lot of things, Travis Dalton. But I am never shy or boring.”
* * *
The next night, Real Deal Entertainment had assigned Gerry to drive the finalists to the Ace in the Hole.
All except for Travis. They let him make a quick trip to Kalispell in the afternoon and then, in the evening, he drove his F-150 out to the O’Reilly
