The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (29 page)

So she brought a roll of contact paper with her to work that day, and when Miranda didn’t drop by the salon, she went to Miranda instead, toting her present as an excuse.

Miranda had a small, neat little cottage on a quiet street. Tall pecan trees littered the yard, and her tiny rental house was older, but charming. Beth Ann had half a mind to take the lease off of Miranda’s hands when she left—anything would beat another month living at home with her parents until Allan got his act together…

She sighed. She needed to stop thinking that way. Allan wasn’t getting his act together, and she wasn’t getting together with him ever again. That was her mother planting ideas in her head.

She swung the screen door open and knocked on the wooden door. Silence. Beth Ann glanced in the window—lights were on. She leaned in close to the door. A murmur of voices, and then a scramble to get to the door.

Annoyed, Beth Ann hit the doorbell.

The door swung open quickly, and a flushed Miranda answered, pushing strands of her hair out of her face. “Hey, girl,” she exclaimed in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d help you pack,” Beth Ann drawled, not fooled for a second. Miranda’s shirt was untucked, the zipper on her jeans was down. Her feet were bare.

Yeah. Beth Ann wasn’t dumb. She shoved the contact paper roll into Miranda’s hands and pushed her way inside. “Since you’re so busy packing, I thought I’d come and help you finish,” she said. “Brought you some contact paper for the new place.”

The house was just as she suspected—boxes lay scattered in the room but nothing seemed to be put in them. In fact, if she looked hard, it almost seemed as if there was less stuff in them
than the last time she’d been over. Beth Ann whirled, tapping one pink fingernail on her chin.

“You didn’t have to do this, Beth Ann,” Miranda said awkwardly. “I’m almost done with the packing.”

Beth Ann turned to look back at her friend, hurt. “You are a terrible liar.”

There was a sound in the bedroom, and Miranda stiffened. A dreadful feeling began to rise in the pit of Beth Ann’s stomach. Before Miranda could stop her, Beth Ann moved to the bedroom door and pushed it open.

A large man sat on the edge of the bed, sliding on his shoes. He wore no shirt over his bronzed, rippling muscles, and he looked up at the sight of her in the bedroom door.

“Hi,” said her best friend’s worst enemy. “Beth Ann, you haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” she said through clenched teeth, and shut the door in his face. She turned and gave Miranda a look of disappointment, and then walked right back out of the house.

Miranda followed her out. “Beth Ann! It’s not what you think—”

“Really?” she snapped, angry and afraid for her friend all at once. “Because I’m thinking he’s moved in.”

“Don’t be silly,” Miranda scoffed. “We’ve only been seeing each other for the last week.”

Beth Ann crossed her arms over her chest. “And how many times has he slept at his place in the last week?”

Silence.

Beth Ann gave her friend an exasperated look. “Really?”

To her credit, Miranda blushed. “I know what you’re thinking—”

Beth Ann whipped out her cell phone. “That I should just take the picture of your tits and post it on the Internet right now so we can get this over with?”

Miranda flinched, and immediately Beth Ann felt like a jerk. She sighed and moved to hug Miranda.

“I’m sorry, girl,” Beth Ann said.

“You’re just worried about me,” Miranda said in a soft voice. “I know.”

“He hurt you so badly,” Beth Ann said, and hated the knot rising in her throat. “Humiliated you in front of everyone and broke your heart. I know what that feels like, too.”

“Of course you do,” Miranda said soothingly, and patted Beth Ann on the back. “But this is…this is different, Beth Ann.” Her face flushed with pleasure, and her pretty brown eyes gleamed. “He’s not the guy I thought he was. He’s different. You just have to trust me.”

“Oh, honey,” Beth Ann said, and gave her best friend another squeeze on the arm. “Of course I trust you.”

It was that low-life fink Dane Croft that she didn’t trust.

She and Miranda chatted for a moment longer on the porch, and then Beth Ann made up an excuse about having to go back to the salon to make sure she’d unplugged everything.

Miranda looked uncomfortable. “You sure you don’t want to stay for a few? I made some sweet tea.”

She shook her head and managed a cheerful smile. “Gotta run, but thanks for asking. I’ll stop by tomorrow and help you pack for real.” She gave her friend a stern look. “No excuses.”

“No excuses,” Miranda said with a smile.

Beth Ann moved back out to her small, sea green Volkswagen Bug and started the car. But instead of turning back toward Main Street, she got on the highway and headed outside of town, toward the Daughtry Ranch.

She’d find out on her own if Dane Croft was playing games this time. If Miranda wasn’t worried…Beth Ann would be worried for her. One of them needed to be ready, and Beth Ann wanted to be prepared for the worst.

Beth Ann parked her car in front of the Daughtry Ranch. There was a gravel parking lot and a scatter of cabins, but other than that, it really didn’t look like much. In the distance, she could see a long barn, but it looked deserted. Beth Ann got out of the car, gripped her keys, and headed for the big ranch house. A sign hung above the door, proudly proclaiming
WILDERNESS SURVIVAL EXPEDITIONS,
and a plastic pamphlet case nailed to the porch wall was stuffed full of brochures.

She considered knocking, but it was a business, right? She’d treat it like one. No one had to knock before entering her salon. She opened the door and stepped in.

No one looked up as she entered. A woman she didn’t recognize had a phone to her ear and was writing furiously in a steno pad. Grant Markham—a total blast from her high school past—didn’t even look up from his computer. Gee. He’d gotten friendly in the last nine years.

One person stood and moved to the door. “Can I help you?” he said in a low, almost raspy voice.

She stared at him in surprise. Colt Waggoner—she remembered him from high school, too. She shouldn’t have been surprised—she’d seen his picture in the brochure. He was…different. He’d been silent in high school, and she guessed that much hadn’t changed, but there was something hard and lean about him now. Something slightly dangerous. He’d filled out from the rangy form she remembered, too—this man was all ropy muscles and coiled strength. And he was devouring her with his eyes. Taken aback, she stifled the surge of pleasure that his appreciation brought. It was nice to have someone make her feel pretty again, but that wasn’t why she was here tonight.

“Thought I’d come by and ask you if you know where your friend Dane is,” she said, keeping her voice mild.

Colt crossed his arms over his chest. “Ain’t his keeper.”

“No, you ain’t,” she said, emphasizing his slang. “But you are trying to run a business here, aren’t you? How’s that going to look if your instructor is having a relationship with one of his students while on one of your retreats? You’ll never have another woman sign up ever again.”

Colt’s appreciative look turned to a scowl as he glared at her. When the woman put down her phone and Grant looked up from his computer, Colt took her by the elbow and dragged her back outside.

“Beth Ann Williamson? Is that you?” Grant said, getting up from his desk. “Wow, long time no see. Did you say something about students—”

“She doesn’t have time to talk,” Colt gritted, pushing outside and dragging Beth Ann with him.

She glared as he pulled her along, and when they were back
in the parking lot, she jerked away from him. “That’s far enough, thank you.”

“There a problem?” Colt’s tone was abrupt.

“Darn right there’s a problem,” Beth Ann said, crossing her arms over her chest. She refused to be intimidated by his raw, physical power and that sexy rasp in his voice. Funny, but that wasn’t how she remembered him at all. He’d been a silent, aloof jerk in high school, and nothing had changed, it seemed, except the package. “The issue is your friend. He’s ruining the life of mine. Again.”

Colt stared at her a long, long minute, his eyes piercing. When she thought he was ignoring her, he finally said, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” She eyed his lean body, the casual set of his shoulders. “Where’s your buddy Dane? Not at work, I see.”

Colt was silent.

Ah yes, she remembered why he’d infuriated her so much in school. She’d always been lively and chatty, and he was anything but. “Well?”

“Heard you didn’t marry Allan.”

She stiffened. “That’s none of your business, and I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of it.”

He grunted.

Flustered, she brushed her bangs behind her ear. “Look. All I’m saying is that Dane and Miranda are hooking up, and I think it’s mighty unpleasant that one of your instructors is hooking up with one of his students.”

Colt continued to watch her in that scrutinizing way she found so unnerving. “Not true,” he said finally. “Dane’s not seeing anyone.”

The man was unreal. “Are you blind? Should I have taken a snapshot to savor the moment and show to all my friends? Oh wait, that’s y’all’s job, isn’t it?”

He scowled.

“Look. I came up here to warn you.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” His cool tone suddenly got thirty shades cooler. “Came to warn me that we’re not welcome here?”

“I don’t care if you pitch a tent in the middle of town,” she declared. “But if Dane hurts Miranda one more time, I’m going to geld him with my haircutting scissors, understand me?”

“Miranda’s a former student. No more. She’s done with the class and he’s done with her.” Beth Ann could have sworn his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile.

“All I’m saying is that he needs to back off and leave her alone. All of you. Understand me?”

The interested glint in his eyes died and was replaced with ice. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, then nodded at her car. “I’ll see you out.”

“We’re already out.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you gone.”

Jerk. The town jackass count was higher by one with him back. She turned on her heel, hair flaring over her shoulder as she stomped away.

Grant looked up as Colt reentered the office. “What was that about?”

“Town shit,” Colt drawled, and picked up his Xbox controller. “Nothing worth repeating.”

“She came all the way out here to talk to you about town shit?” Grant asked. “Sounds like bull to me.”

Colt shrugged. “She’s just imagining shit. Or making it up.”

“Why would she drive out here over something she made up?”

“Maybe she’s hot for me.”

Grant snorted. “I must have mistaken that look of desire on her face for rage.” He grabbed the stack of paperwork on his desk and began to pick through it, oblivious to Colt’s silence. Then again, Grant always was preoccupied with one project or another. The man focused—okay, obsessed—so much that he lost track of reality. After a few minutes, Grant spoke again. “Is it about a girl?”

“Huh?” Colt looked up from the TV.

“A girl,” Grant said, shoving a stack of ledgers aside to glance at his friend. “Dane hasn’t been himself lately. Distracted. She mentioned a girl. Think he’s seeing someone in town?”

“Nailing, maybe,” Colt said with a shrug. “If he was really seeing someone, he’d bring her around.”

“Because we’re both so cuddly and lovable? We read him the riot act about keeping his dick in his pants. The guy probably won’t bring a date within twenty miles of this place because he thinks we’ll flip out on him.”

Colt grunted. “She’s just being hysterical and overreacting. Dane promised he’d keep his hands off the clients.”

“True.” Grant stared at the door, then looked back to Colt. “You keep your hands off all your clients?”

Colt scowled. “Fuck off. That’s not even funny.”

Grant just grinned, ignoring Colt’s anger. “You never know, I think any woman would run screaming if she realized she’d have to spend time with you and your sunny personality.”

“I’m all charm, no harm.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“To you, maybe.” Colt nodded at the enormous stack of paperwork on Grant’s desk. “Anyhow, it ain’t a girl. He hasn’t said a thing about anyone and he would have said something to me. He never misses a class and he never shows up smelling like cheap perfume or with lipstick on his collar.”

“I asked if he was dating a girl, not your mom,” Grant said dryly.

Colt shot him the bird. “Funny. You done with that shit so we can go get a beer in town?”

Fingers drummed on the stack of paperwork as Grant weighed the options. Then he stood and shoved his chair out from the desk. “I guess those press releases can wait another day or two.”

“Damn straight,” Colt said, getting to his feet. He gestured for Brenna to take her headphones off. “We’re going into town to get a beer,” he yelled.

She brightened and pulled the headphones off, her freckled face lighting up. “Beer? Can I come?”

“No,” Grant said sharply. “You still haven’t finished the supplies inventory I gave you two days ago.”

She scowled at him, slipped the headphones back on her head. “Haters.”

Grant looked as if he wanted to take the headphones off the girl and choke her with them. Colt nudged his friend on the shoulder. “Come on. What’s that place in town with the bar?”

“Maya Loco,” Grant said, finally turning away from glaring at Brenna to move toward the door. “You sure it wasn’t a girl?”

“If it was, he’d say something,” Colt drawled.

“Huh. True.”

Miranda played with Dane’s fingers, locking her own with them as she rested her head on his chest. “Do you have work today?”

“Classes,” he said. “School camping trip. After that, I’m free until the weekend. What about you?”

She stiffened in bed. She should be packing. Should call her job to confirm that everything was lined up. Instead, she’d spent the past week lazing in bed with Dane, and when they weren’t in bed, they’d spent every waking moment together. Being with him made mundane trips—like going to the grocery store—a pleasant experience.