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faced Ry and smiled. I do believe you have just about won
over my grandmother.
Guess I have some kind of charm no Hadley woman
can resist. He picked a tool up from the workbench.
Charm, my butt. I folded my arms.
That did not stop him from leaning over and stealing a
quick kiss on the cheek. Charm your butt and all the rest
of you too, my dear. Least that s my plan.
I backed away and clucked my tongue at him, though in
all honestly there were really so many other things I d
rather have done with my tongue where this man was con-
cerned.
Hope you didn t leave some poor lady cooking under a
hair dryer.
But I had come to talk today, to hear his side of the story
and bring closure to the tensions between us. The last thing
I wanted was for this man to know how wanton I would be
with him if only given the chance. The salon isn t open
today.
L ove and a Bad Hair Day 163
Not open?
Was that concern I saw in his eyes?
He started fiddling with something under the hood.
We re never open the Monday after market. We need a
day to get our bearings back.
I had no idea this Every Second Saturday gig had such
far-reaching effects in this town.
It s a big deal, I reminded him in a soft but adamant
tone.
Bigger than I realized.
I told you that. I left the comment unspoken but I did not
try to disguise the irritation in any other way.
I had no idea my grandfather hauled in that kind of
money over a three-day period. He put the heel of his
hand to the fender. Who d have thought so many people
would flock to this speck on the map in these mountains to
buy buck knives, miracle cleaners and magic potions as
seen on late-night TV homemade bric-a-brac and dealer-
discounted hot tubs?
I studied his quiet features. Just days ago I might have
misconstrued the grave set of his jaw for a hardness of his
heart toward Verbena, his grandfather and the people who
spent so much of themselves and their money at the Flea
Market. Now I understood he was just trying to make sense
of it all. That was a feeling I could most certainly relate to!
So, I said, trying to avoid coming off like little Miss
Know-it-all, Guess you re seeing this situation in a whole
new light?
It ain t Move-to-Cal a fornie-swimming-pools-and-
movie-stars money. Ry set about prodding around under
the hood with no discernable objective to his actions. But
164 Annie Flannigan
the old man did better off at this place than just skimming
by.
Didn t you catch onto that fact after they read his will?
Metal clanked to metal and Ry let out a curse. He stood
for a second staring at the engine, then let out a long breath
and held up the scraped knuckles of his hand. Misjudged
the attachment.
That s always a mistake, I said softly, then moved over
to his side and cradled his hand in mine to get a better look.
It s nothing just a scrape.
I wet my lips. Maybe I should kiss it to make it all
better.
He looked at me through half-lowered eyelids. You do,
and you ll set a dangerous precedent.
I lowered my mouth to almost touch his skin, then raised
my eyes to meet his. Dangerous? How?
His chest rose and fell in a heavy, steady rhythm. You
start kissing hurt parts on me to make them better and I ll
just become one big accident waiting to happen.
Is that right?
First I d cut myself shaving. He put a finger from his
free hand onto his cheek just above his dimple.
I held my breath.
Then maybe pull a muscle working on the car. He
dropped his finger to his chest.
Each requiring a little kiss therapy, of course.
Oh yeah. He traced his fingertip over my bottom lip.
I held in a groan.
The next thing you know I d do anything to get a little
of your tender nursing. Start walking into traffic, falling
down stairs . . .
L ove and a Bad Hair Day 165
Spilling coffee in your lap.
He only flinched for an instant. But the mental picture of
me tending to such a personal injury must have overcome
his initial reaction, because he smiled slowly and cocked his
head to one side. Oh, Jolene Hadley Corbett, did anyone
ever tell you that you are one wicked, wicked woman?
I shook my head and tucked my hair behind my ear.
Never.
Then I am glad I could be your first. He turned over his
injured hand and raised my fingers to his lips. He kissed
my palm, his gaze never leaving mine.
He was the first boy to ever touch my breasts, the first
man to ever see the fearlessness waiting to awaken inside
me, and the only person I would ever have defied my fam-
ily for. That scared the living daylights out of me.
I pulled my hand away. I thought I came over here so
we could talk.
Would it offend you greatly if I said I had talked enough
for one morning?
Offend me? No. Unhinge me? Maybe.
Could we . . . He studied me for a minute. Then slowly,
with delicious delight in his eyes, he smiled, just enough to
make one dimple show. Would it compromise your repu-
tation too much if I asked you to meet me tonight?
To . . . tonight? I had come to find closure, I reminded
myself. Today. Not tonight. Not alone in the dark with this
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