Betting Hearts (9 page)

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he snapped.

“Because I’m wondering if you’re the best person to help me.” Alice might be a better bet. She oozed class and poise. But she had a daughter and a man eating up all her time. Kids Cass couldn’t complain about. They were innocent and genuinely needed their mothers, but men? They devoured time like they did steaks—whole and often. No, she couldn’t ask Alice to clear her schedule for two weeks at the drop of a hat.

Burke’s eyes widened, relief slowing his feet and lifting the Cro-Magnon scowl. “Really?”

May Belle had already done all she could, Cass admitted while sneaking a scratch to her cheek. Lola’s practices tended to leave one in pain. Hayne, usually so helpful when a girl needed a hand, wouldn’t touch this project to save his life. If she could do it alone—could hope to find and shape some indefinable, untouchable thing inside herself—she would. But she couldn’t. Galling or not, she needed help. Which left Burke. But she wasn’t going to get much done until he admitted she would actually need to change something about herself if they were going to keep her car or her dignity.

If she didn’t know him from his boots to his cowlick, that might be a daunting prospect.

She nodded, still pretending she had other options. “You’re lousy at this.”

Nothing got to Burke like implied failure. “Lousy?”

“Rotten lousy,” she confirmed, trampling his need to be the best at everything he did. “You have no intention to make a girl out of me, Burke. You’ve spent most of your life making a
boy
out of me. My Dad and Hayne, I can understand; it was easier for them if I wasn’t expecting frills and lace. But you seem to like me the way I’ve been.”

Confusion filled his eyes. Poor guy. He truly didn’t get it. “Of course I did. You’re fine that way.”

“The whole point of this stupid bet is to be completely different than I was. Until you get your head out of your ass and see that, you’re no good to me.” Shrugging as if it didn’t matter—and it really, really did—she walked past him to the front door. She plucked his keys out of the crystal dish in the bookcase nearby.

“Where do you think you’re going with those?”

“Home. You left my car back at Shaky Jakes. Again.” She opened the door but, being Burke and it being his Explorer, he moved faster. The door clanged shut, his hand as flat against it as the line of his mouth.

“You can’t go home in that getup.”

She scoffed, plucking at the loose cotton. “I think Hayne and Dad will survive.”

“Well, you’re not driving my car.”

“Fine. I’ll walk in this getup.” She pulled the door open again. She didn’t plan to leave, of course. He just had to think she’d leave. Someday, she’d have to write a book on how to work this man to her way of thinking. A few more choice prods to his pride and he’d see the light. “I’m not staying here if you’re going to be useless.”

The door clapped shut again. She didn’t bother hiding her smile. When he lowered his head, expression grim and unbending, she knew she had him. “You know what? Luke’s completely wrong about you. You’re the most damnably female woman I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”
How dumb does he think I am?

“Keep the hair if you must, but the style and the dress have to go.”

“Are you ordering me to strip?”

His mouth curved into a dry grin. “Not even if you were a natural blonde, honey.”

She smirked. While he and Luke were about as much alike as dogs and cats, the one thing they had in common was their taste in women. Perhaps liking blondes was just a guy thing. She’d have to look into it.

“If we’re going to make this work, one thing has to change before anything else.”

“Yeah, what?”

“You have to stop looking at me the way a friend does and start seeing me the way a man would.”

He should have gotten a beer at May Belle’s before they left. Hell, it wouldn’t matter. He needed a shot glass for that last comment.

“Burke?”

He had a hot flash of her standing in his tub, wearing nothing but bubbles and water. She’d been all woman to him then, but damn if he was ever going to admit
that
. “Okay, maybe I don’t see you that way, but I don’t think changing my perception is a good idea.”

“Too bad.”

Burke finally understood why cavemen hit women over the head with logs.

“Let’s start with my name.”

“What’s wrong with your name?” Good Lord, if she wanted to change it to something debutantish, like Muffy, Buffy or some such crap, this bet was already lost.

“Nothing is wrong with it. You never
use
it. No one does. CB is sexless.”

“Are we back to the Cassandra thing?”

She frowned, tilting her head to the left. Great, he forgot she didn’t remember her drunken night. “What Cassandra thing?”

“It was nothing.” Actually, it was a big fat something only now starting to come into focus for him. Was the whack job Luke did on her self-esteem worse than what she did to his face? “You want me to call you Cassandra now?”

“Cass will do fine. What Cassandra thing?”

Dog. Bone. CB.

“It was nothing.” He smiled his most winning charmer. “How about I drive you home? We can get started tomorrow.”

She frowned harder, furrowing her brow into three deep grooves, her eyes turning the dark ivy color he associated with her extreme displeasure. Good, he hated being the only one without pleasure. “Why are you suddenly so accommodating?”

He’d have to think up some way to train the suspicious nature out of her. It wouldn’t be easy, her radar on lies and deflections was almost never wrong. Except with Luke. “Because your face is breaking out a little more and you probably don’t want me seeing you like this. Most women wouldn’t,” he added for effect. She seemed to be waiting for something else. “Cass?” he guessed and she smiled.

Damn. The name felt awkward on his tongue, but if it got her out of his hair for a little while, he’d call her whatever she wanted.

Cass went pretty willingly if she said so herself. She even let Burke open her door for her. Sure, she had to wait in the cold while he started the engine before he realized she wasn’t inside yet, but he did it. He grumbled, but he did it. Sitting in his oversize SUV always made her happy. The plush leather, the polished interior, his subtle scent and a smooth ride—all of it made for an experience she didn’t get with her own vehicles. Her work required a truck of her own, but no amount of cleaning could get the smell of fertilizer out of the rugs. She loved the Z, her off-hours car, but for entirely different reasons. It had speed. It had style. Burke designed the interior just for her. It represented freedom. Giving it to Luke would mean a lot more than most people would understand. All the same, nothing was like riding with Burke.

He didn’t say a word, driving as if on automatic, his eyes narrowed with his familiar contemplative glare. He was plotting. For once in her life, she was excited about that.

The final turn home was routine except for one thing. Burke pulled a U-ey like a bat out of hell.

“What are you doing?” she all but screeched.

“I got an idea.” There was a rash of honking horns and veering cars—including theirs—but within seconds, he was driving back down the main road. “There are a bunch of things about women I can’t teach you. I can show you what men like, but unless you see examples you won’t have a clue what I’m talking about. So, you’re getting some homework.”

“Goody.” Only Burke could find a way to make homework out of this situation.

“You’re the one who wants a new life, Cinderella.”

“Cassandra, thank you.” Her third grade teacher would be proud to hear the prim notes of her voice. The snarky old bat wouldn’t believe it, but she’d be proud all the same. “And another thing,” Burke all but pontificated. “Manners. You’ll need to see some feminine manners.”

“I have manners!”

He leveled a sharp sideways glare at her. “
Why
does Luke have a broken nose?”

All right, he had a
slight
point.

“We’re starting from scratch.” That didn’t sound good.

It sounded worse when he pulled into Enterprising Ernie’s Liquor and Video. Burke wasted no time getting out. He didn’t seem to think opening her door for her was worth wasting time on either. Curious—but not curious enough to show anyone her rash—she watched him go in and talk to the kid behind the counter.

Too far away to read lips, she tried to decipher gestures and points. When he used the universal symbol of a curvy woman, the cashier got very excited and Cass wondered if he dragged her out here because he had an overwhelming need for porn. Not likely, but hey, she always did say Burke thought too much.

Fifteen minutes later, he came out with two large bags of plastic encased videos. He shoved the bags her way and started up the SUV. “I want you to watch as many of those as you can tonight and tomorrow.”

“What?” There had to be fifteen films in her lap!

“Watch them. Watch the women, see how they move, how they talk, what they act like.”

“
Tonight
?”

“Tonight.” His tone brooked no argument. “All night. Every night until we get it right.”

“You watching them with me?” At least they could have popcorn and make fun of the movies together.

“Not this time. I’ve got to make arrangements.”

“For what?” It wasn’t like she was going to need a crane or anything.

“Leave it to me.”

Cass reached into the bag. “
I Was A Male War Bride, North By Northwest, How to Marry a Millionaire, Niagra. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
?” Yeah, real surprise. “What are these?”

“Movies.”

“
Old
movies?”

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was grinning. “Everything is old at Ernie’s.”

“You know I don’t watch black and white.
You
don’t even watch black and white. And these better not be musicals.”

“Actually, I don’t know. I asked the kid, she seemed to know what I was looking for.”

“I’ll bet.” Kid or not, every girl but her who made basic eye contact with Burke Halifax magically lost all communication with her brain. It never failed. Cass put the movies back in the bag. She had a feeling she’d rather he got porn.

Five minutes after Burke dropped her off at home, Cass finally gave in to the inevitable. With Burke, she’d bluffed about her family. They weren’t likely to take her makeover any better than Burke had. Eddie might ask her if she were trying to get raped and Hayne would make jokes until his voice ran out. It was too cold to stay out on the porch with only two bags of movies to keep her warm. She opened the door to the familiar smell of Hayne’s beef stew, her father’s popcorn and the sounds of
Wheel of Fortune
.

In the twenty-five years since Lora Bishop’s death, almost nothing in the old two-story had changed. The paint—while retouched over the years—was still the same beige, the couches were still the same not-so-comfortable tweed and the carpet was the same brown, green and orange not-so-shaggy shag. The pictures still hung in the same spots or sat on the same shelves. Knickknacks had yet to be rearranged, habits had yet to be removed. Her father still fell asleep on his beaten recliner. Hayne still left his jacket on the banister knob. Sometimes it was nice to be home.

Now wasn’t one of those times.

“Hey CB, that you?” Hayne’s voice called from the kitchen, accompanied by a clattering of pots. “Was wondering when you were coming home. Heard you tied one on at Shaky
Jake’s—” He walked out of the kitchen in mid-laugh, which turned into mid-choke at the sight of her.

Cass smiled weakly. She heard the squeak indicating her
father was turning in his chair and swung her gaze toward him.

“Holy
—
”

“What in the hell happened to you?”

Ah, the sound of appreciative men. “I…um…had an allergic reaction.”

“To what? Dad, look at her hair!”

“I’m looking, son.” Eddie stood up, something resembling a smile pulling at his sun-browned mouth. “Is that a dress?”

This was positive. A tremulous smile forming without her permission, Cass dumped the bag of videos over the back of the couch and did a quick turn for him. “May Belle gave it to me. She said it was one of hers back when she was a starlet in Hollywood.”

“Explains all the room at the top,” Hayne snickered, leaning a shoulder against the corner of the kitchen wall and crossing his arms across his too wide chest.

Cass wished she still had one of May Belle’s shoes. She’d throw it at him. “Shut up.”

“Wouldn’t your mama have loved to see you like this,” her father went on, oblivious as always to their bickering. “Look at you, all prettied up!”

Cass’s irritation with her brother melted away at Eddie Bishop’s shining eyes. He crossed the room and wrapped his big arms around her in a bear hug. She was used to those, her father felt better about hugs than he did about most other mushy emotions. She patted his still hard back as best she could.