“Okay,” Nick said. “Let’s replay this. Body language 101. When you want to show a man you’re interested, face him.” He paused. “Face me.”

“Oh,” she said and turned her body toward his.

“Flip your hair,” he said. “Guys like it when you mess with your hair,” he said.

Cecelia twirled a strand of her hair. “Is this okay?”

Nick felt a weird tug of attraction. “Yeah, that’s good. Remember to lean in and look like you’re listening to everything he’s saying,” he said.

Cecelia leaned in and twisted her hair again. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” he said and met her gaze. Something strange flashed between them. He felt drawn to her in a way he’d never felt before. He lowered his head. “Yeah,” he repeated and pressed his mouth against hers. Her lips were so soft, so sweet, and he wanted so much more.

Cecelia drew back. “You kissed me,” she whispered. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, pulling back and mentally swearing at himself. Why had he kissed her? He had clearly gone crazy.

Maverick for Hire

Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.

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This book is dedicated to my husband, who encouraged me through every day, no matter how unproductive I was.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Thank goodness she wasn’t attracted to him, Cecelia Clifton thought as she looked at Nick Pritchett. She’d known the carpenter for what felt like forever. They went all the way back to a shared childhood in Thunder Canyon. And now she frequently shared an after-work beer or water with him at the Ace in the Hole, the local backcountry bar in Rust Creek Falls, Montana. Built like a football player, Nick was all muscle. With blond hair and blue eyes full of humor and flirtatiousness, he wore his all-American looks with ease. Cecelia knew better than to fall for him, though. Nick had a good heart, but he wasn’t interested in marriage.

Cecelia tossed another dart at the board and smiled.

Nick groaned in pain. “Give me a break, Cece. A guy needs a win every now and then.”

“From what I hear, you’re winning all the time with all the women you have wrapped around your finger,” she said. Ever since Lissa Rourke, a volunteer with a charitable organization from New York, had blogged about the cowboys in Rust Creek after last summer’s Great Flood, a new type of visitor had been gracing the streets of town—young single ladies from around the country looking for love. As Lissa had spent time working hard to help Rust Creek Falls, she’d also found love with the local sheriff. Cecelia couldn’t deny part of the reason she’d come to Rust Creek was for a boost in her love life, but so far, she’d experienced zip in the romance department.

“Do you ever think about going back to Thunder Canyon?” she asked as she watched him send a dart soaring.

She noticed his dart landed closer to the bull’s-eye than hers had.

Nick frowned at her. “Why would I do that? Rust Creek is still bailing out from the big flood. Plus, they’ve welcomed me with open arms,” he said with a scalawag grin.

“Yes, they have,” Cecelia said drily and took her turn. She hit the closest to a bull’s-eye ever in this game.

Nick cursed under his breath. “You haven’t fallen in love with the town?”

“I have,” she said. “In a way.” She paused. “But...”

He glanced at her. “But what?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I came here with wide eyes with Jazzy. She’s married and super busy now. I feel, well...” She didn’t want to say the rest.

Cecelia and her best friend, Jasmine “Jazzy” Cates, had come to Rust Creek Falls together to find romance—and, of course, help the town with the recovery efforts after the flood the previous summer. Along the way, Jazzy had taken a job with local vet Brooks Smith. Their working relationship soon led to wedding bells. Only Cecelia knew the truth—that their quick vows were really a marriage of convenience, so that Brooks could convince his ailing father to let him take over the practice. Soon though, true love won out, and Brooks and Jazzy were as much in love as could be.

“Don’t tell me you were hoping for a Rust Creek cowboy,” Nick said.

“I was hoping for a fresh start and maybe a relationship,” she said and took a sip of her water. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Nothing,” he said and focused on the dartboard. He threw a dart that landed dead center and smiled. “Now that’s the way it should be.”

She scowled at him. “The game’s not over.”

“Good luck,” he said then shook his head. “I never thought you were one of the man-crazy women. You didn’t seem to be working hard at getting a guy.”

She shrugged. “No one likes to look desperate. But the truth is I haven’t clicked with any of the guys I’ve met. That makes me wonder if I should go back to Thunder Canyon. Maybe the pastures here aren’t as green as I’d thought they would be.”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Are you gonna take your turn?”

Cecelia scowled again. “Okay, okay,” she said and sailed her dart dead center.

Nick cursed under his breath again.

“I think I’m ahead, now,” she said.

Nick frowned at her. “Maybe you haven’t given Rust Creek the full shot you should have.”

“I’ve been here for over a year,” she protested.

“Yeah, but you haven’t really—” He broke off. “Tried.”

“Tried?” she echoed. “I’ve gone out on a lot of dates. Trust me.”

“Yeah, but have you tried to sell yourself?”

“Sell myself?” she said, clearly appalled. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t mean selling yourself that way.” He paused. “I mean that, in general, women need to sell men.”

She looked at him skeptically. “This sounds shady.”

Nick shrugged. “The truth is, the man is...the customer. You need to sell him in order to lasso him in.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said. “Disgusting.”

“It’s not,” he protested. “It’s the truth. A lot of men need to be shown what they want. Once they learn that, they’re ready to surrender to the noose of marriage.”

“Noose?” she echoed.

“That’s my interpretation. My brothers got married and they’re no fun anymore,” he said.

“According to whom?” she asked.

“According to me,” he said. “They always want to stay home with their wives.”

“Doesn’t that mean they’re happy to be with their wives?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said. “I just know I don’t want to become as boring as they are.”

Cecelia shook her head. “I’m so glad I know what a playboy you are,” she said.

“I’m not a playboy,” he said, pointing to himself. “I’m just trying to make some money. That’s why I started my Maverick for Hire business. A lot of women have been interested in giving me a honey-do list, so it just makes sense for me to make a full-time job out of it. You know what I did—put an advertisement in the Rust Creek Rambler newspaper for my handyman services, and I’ve been busy ever since. But we’ve gotten off track. You’re the one with the problem. If you want a man, Cecelia, you need to treat him like he’s a customer. I can tell you how.”

Horrified, Cecelia blinked at him. “I’m telling you that sounds an awful lot like prostitution.”

He shook his head. “You know I don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cece, you know I think you’re great the way you are, but other guys want a little—” he shrugged his shoulders “—glamour.”

“Glamour?” she echoed. “In Rust Creek Falls?”

“Yeah, well, we’re a simple lot,” he said and scrunched up his face. “Do you really want to leave Rust Creek Falls?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking away from him. “I just haven’t felt like I belonged here lately. And the truth is I was hoping I’d meet someone special here. Kind of like Jazzy did.”

He sighed. “I’d hate to lose my best bud,” he said. “You’re the only woman I know who doesn’t want me for my amazing body,” he said, joking. “Or to fix something in her house.

Cecelia rolled her eyes. “That’s your own fault for being such a flirt.”

He leaned toward her. “It’s not my fault all these women want my handyman services.”

“You’re profiting from it. Stop complaining,” she said.

“But—”

“Hey there, Nick,” a pretty brunette said as she bumped into him. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you!”

Cecelia noticed the woman was slurring her words.

“Hey, Daphne, good to see you again. I’ve been working hard lately,” he said. “How about you?”

She pointed her index finger at his chest. “I think we could be good together.”

Nick sighed. “You seem a little wobbly. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said and batted her eyelashes.

“I’m thinking you need to go home. Where are you living now?”

She sifted her fingers through his hair. “I’m renting a trailer out by Route 46.”

“How about you let me take you home?” he asked.

“I would love that,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“Then, let’s go,” he said and tossed a backward glance at Cecelia. Designated driver again, he mouthed then shook his head as he took the woman’s arm and led her to toward the door.

Cecelia watched them leave then turned around and sent a dart directly into the bull’s-eye. She didn’t want to be judgmental, but she had a pretty good idea the pretty brunette was part of the Rust Creek Falls Gal Rush. Ever since Lissa’s blog about her time in Rust Creek Falls—and her proposal from the local sheriff—had gotten national recognition there just didn’t seem to be enough men to go around.

As if Cecelia didn’t have enough competition getting the attention of the local guys already. Feeling restless, she tossed the rest of her darts at the board. No need to hang around the bar any longer since Nick wasn’t here to amuse her. He would be busy with that pretty brunette who’d been dressed for prowling from head to toe. Long, perfectly arranged wavy hair, a face well enhanced with makeup and eyelashes so long they almost looked like spiders.

Cecelia rolled her eyes. She didn’t own a lick of makeup, and she was very firm about wearing her hair in a ponytail. The last time she’d neglected to pull her dark hair back, a circular saw had whacked off part of one side. She supposed her body wasn’t bad, but since she worked construction, she kept it well hidden beneath comfortable shirts and jeans.

Glancing down at her steel-toed boots, she felt another scrape of dissatisfaction.

Maybe she could borrow the kitchen at Strickland’s Boarding House, where she’d been staying since she arrived in Rust Creek Falls. Otherwise, she would be subjected to whatever she could get on her television. Thank goodness, Nick had bought and installed a satellite dish. He was also staying at Strickland’s, and he wanted sports. She wanted the cooking channel.

Cecelia stalked out of the bar and made the short walk to the rooming house. She took a deep breath and savored the pure Montana air. She wondered if Melba, the rooming house owner, would let Cecelia take over the kitchen tonight to experiment with a fresh apple cake recipe. Cecelia liked to bake, especially when she felt restless.

She climbed the steps into the rooming house and walked toward the den in the back. Melba was glued to the television.

“Hi,” Cecelia said. “What are you watching?”

“Reality show,” Melba said. “It’s the semifinals.”

“Do you mind if I use the kitchen for baking tonight?” Cecelia asked.

Melba shook her head. “Nope. What are you making?”

“Apple cake with caramel frosting,” Cecelia said.

“Sounds good. Can you make an extra one for breakfast?” Melba asked.

“I’m experimenting,” Cecelia warned.

“Your experiments have always turned out well,” Melba said.

Cecelia smiled. “Thanks, marvelous Melba.”

“You make my job easier. This way, I won’t have to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast in the morning.”

“What about Beth?” Cecelia asked, speaking of the part-time cook Melba had recently hired. Beth Crowder was a middle-aged single mother working multiple jobs while her son finished his last year of high school. Cecelia didn’t know any specifics, but she thought Beth may have been the victim of spousal abuse. Beth often appeared tired with shadows under her eyes, but she also came across as one of the most determined people Cecelia had ever met.

Melba shook her head. “Beth’s not coming in tomorrow, so your timing is perfect.”

Cecelia smiled. “If you say so,” she said and turned to walk away.

“I do and you contribute a lot to the community. Everyone loves you,” Melba said, tearing her gaze from the television. “Don’t you forget that.”

Cecelia wasn’t sure her contributions made that much of a difference, but Melba made her feel a little better.

“Thanks, Melba,” she said.

“My pleasure,” Melba said. “Can’t wait to smell that apple cake.”

Cecelia headed to the kitchen and pulled out the Granny Smith apples she’d bought earlier. She spent the next thirty minutes dicing apples, trying to chop out her frustration. Eight cups later, she was ready to start on the rest of the recipe. After she put the cakes in the oven, she sank onto a chair in the kitchen and sipped some tea. Baking usually calmed her nerves, but it hadn’t been working as well lately. She had grown to love Rust Creek Falls, but she wanted more. She wanted a family of her own, and she wasn’t finding it here. She wondered if she should get serious about going back to Thunder Canyon.

Part of the problem with that thinking was that she’d run away from a disappointing love affair in Thunder Canyon. When was she going to stop running?

Cecelia thought about the accountant she’d dated before he’d broken off with her for someone prettier and more sophisticated. She’d thought he’d taken her on private romantic dates because he had strong feelings for her, but in truth, he hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was dating Cecelia.

The truth had been devastating. It still stung when she thought about it, and she tried her best not to remember.

Between that terrible relationship and her lack of finding any real prospects here in Thunder Canyon, Cecelia was beginning to wonder if she would ever find love.

* * *

Halfway to the trailers set up on the edge of town, Nick saw Daphne with her head lolled back against the headrest. She was snoring like a freight train. It seemed like he was providing designated driver services to a woman who was clearly one of the Rust Creek Falls Gal Rush every other week or so. He appreciated what Lissa’s blog had done in providing volunteers and funds for Rust Creek Falls, but even Nick felt as though the resulting “Gal Rush” was overkill.

Some of these girls were city through and through and they had no clue how rustic Rust Creek Falls really was, along with how harsh Montana winters could be. Pulling in front of the trailers, Nick had no idea which one was Daphne’s current residence.

“Daphne,” he said, getting no response. “Daphne,” he said a bit louder, and nudged her arm. “I need to know which trailer is yours so I can help you inside.”

Five minutes later, he was headed back to the rooming house. As soon as he arrived, he picked up a text message for Maverick for Hire and returned the call. Nick much preferred sticking to business when he was doing handyman services. No need to muddy the water.

* * *

Cecelia must have fallen asleep, because the timer awakened her. Lifting her head from the table, Cecelia shook off her drowsiness and checked the cakes. They looked perfect, so she pulled them from the oven and put them on a cooling rack. The scent of cinnamon, apples and vanilla flowed through the air, calming her senses.

The back door opened and Nick strode into the kitchen. “Smells great. Can I have some?”

She shot a withering look at him. “Haven’t you had enough sweets tonight?”

He returned her look with a deadly expression. “You know I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunken woman,” he said. “I got her into her trailer and left. That was the plan.”

“Hmm,” Cecelia said and frowned.

“What?” he said. “A woman doesn’t have to be inebriated for me to get laid.”

Cecelia winced. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“Well, it’s true,” he said and looked at the cakes. “Aren’t they cool enough to eat yet?”

“Not unless you want to burn your tongue,” she retorted.

“I’m game,” he said. “I think you’re too conservative.”

“Okay,” she said and cut a small bite then stuffed it into his open mouth.

His eyes bulged and he took several shallow breaths. He closed his eyes and made a choking sound.

Cecelia wondered if she should perform the Heimlich maneuver. “Need water?”

“Yeah,” he managed.

She filled a glass and offered it to him. “Here you go.”

He gulped the water then swiped his mouth. “Thank goodness. Give me more of that cake. Best. Ever.”

Cecelia couldn’t help laughing. “But you nearly choked and burned yourself.”

“It didn’t kill me,” he said. “Give me more.”

For one hot second, she wondered what it would be like for Nick to use those words give me more in a totally different situation. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought. “I need to let them cool. I want to put a caramel glaze on top,” she said and turned away.

“Whew,” he said. “I didn’t think it could get better, but maybe...”

Cecelia smiled. She wouldn’t admit it, but Nick’s obvious craving for her baked goods made her feel warm inside. “Melba is going to serve some of it for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’ll make sure to get up early. This won’t last long. You’re a doggone good cook, Cecelia. You’re gonna make some man a happy husband, and it will be a sad day for the rest of us.”

Cecelia rolled her eyes at his long face. “Something tells me you’ll survive.” She lowered her voice. “Plus, there’s no happy husband in my immediate future, so no worries.”

* * *

The next morning, Cecelia rose early and ate a quick bite of breakfast before she left to post signs for the food drive she had started for families still struggling after the Great Flood. Then she headed to one of her work sites to make sure the plumbers showed up for a house that needed massive reconstruction. As usual, the plumbers arrived late, but she pushed them to finish the job. After work, she drove throughout the county to post signs for the food drive. By the time she arrived back in Rust Creek Falls, it was dark. She headed to the Ace in the Hole just because she wasn’t quite ready to go back to her room.

Nick waved at her from the bar. “Let me buy you a beer,” he called over the loud fray of the crowd.

“Buy me a water,” she said as she walked toward him. “I’m dying of thirst.”

“Done,” he said and waved at the bartender.

Seconds later, a glass of ice water appeared. She sat down beside him at the bar. “I’m working on the food drive. I hope people will respond. I’m posting notices everywhere. Ever since I learned that some of the kids in school weren’t getting the food they needed months after the flood, I thought I should do something. Hopefully people will be generous. Their families still can’t afford to buy what they need. Some people are still struggling to make up income since the disaster.”

“You’re a good woman,” Nick said and lifted his beer to her glass of water.

She laughed and clicked her glass against his. “If you say so. I still think I may be heading back to Thunder Canyon soon. My time here may be just about done.”

Nick frowned. “No. The town still needs you. We all still need you.”

She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “The truth is the pickings are a lot slimmer here than I anticipated.”

“For what?” Nick asked.

“Men,” she said.

“Ohhhh,” Nick said and leaned back in his chair. “Well, I told you that’s because you’ve been approaching this all wrong.”

Cecelia shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with my approach. I am who I am.”

Nick sighed. “I told you before. You have to sell yourself.”

“I still say that sounds like prostitution,” she said.

“It’s not,” he said. “I don’t mean it that way. You just need to put on some lipstick and flirt a little. For starters,” he said and took a swig of beer.

“Why should I have to put on lipstick? Why shouldn’t he have to put on some lipstick?”

Nick gawked at her. “Why would a guy wear lipstick?”

“That’s not the point. Why should I have to work so hard to get a guy? Why shouldn’t he have to work harder to get me?”

Nick shrugged. “Because a guy doesn’t have to work hard. We’ll eat beans and weenies and watch sports on television until some woman drives us from our cave.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said and took a long drink from her glass of water in hopes of cooling herself down.

“Ridiculous or not, it’s true. You can fight it till the cows come home, but men love the chase. They love when a woman flirts and makes an effort to win them over.”

Disgusted, she barely resisted throwing her water at Nick. She really wanted to smack him, but Cecelia was generally against violence. “Then you and all your men friends are going to miss out on the best women they could get,” she said and rose and walked away.

The next couple of days, Cecelia avoided Nick. Every time she thought about his philosophy about how to catch a man, it made her brain fry. Late Friday afternoon, as she supervised a construction site, one of the men, Bill Dayton, approached her.

“Hey there,” he said, tipping his hat.

“Hi,” she said and nodded in return. Bill was a hard worker and had always been friendly to her.

“I was thinking you and I could spend some time with each other. You want to get together tomorrow night?” he asked.

Surprised by his invitation, she paused a half beat, then asked herself why not? “What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner and just hanging out at my place,” he said. “Would that work for you?”

Cecelia swallowed a sigh. She wasn’t all that attracted to Bill, but she felt a voice on her shoulder urge her to give him a try. What did she have to lose? “Okay,” she said. “What time?”

“Four or four-thirty,” he said.

“That early?” she said.

He gave a sheepish grin. “Better to start early than late. I go to bed early,” he said.

Feeling a softening inside her, she smiled in response. “Well, thank you very much. Four-thirty will work for me.”

He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at Strickland’s.”

“That sounds good,” she said.

“I look forward to it,” he said and walked away.

The next day, Cecelia donned her nicest jeans, a new sweater and a peacoat as she tromped down the stairs to wait for Bill. Nick met her halfway down the steps and looked her up and down. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

“I have a date,” she said proudly.

Nick checked his watch. “It’s kinda early.”

“Maybe he’s eager,” she said.

Nick frowned. “Don’t let him be too eager. Don’t let him—well, compromise you,” he said.

“Compromise?” she echoed. “I’m not a teenager.”

Nick scowled. “Well, you’re no loose woman either.”

Cecelia met his gaze. “Are you calling my morals into question?”

“Not really, but—”

“No buts,” she said, waving her hands in dismissal. “Go get your dinner from Melba or some other woman. I have plans for the evening.”

Nick stared at her. “Hmm.”

“Hmm, yourself,” she said in return. “Good night.”

She stomped the rest of the way down the stairs and took a seat on the sofa in the sitting room. One minute later, she stood and began to pace.

At four thirty-five, Bill appeared at the front door of the rooming house. “Hey,” he said with a dimpled smile. “You ready?”

Hoping this date would turn out well, she smiled in return. “I’m ready. What’s the plan?”

“I thought I would take you to the grocery store so you could pick out what we would have for dinner,” he said as they walked away from the rooming house.

“Um,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah. I’ve heard you’re a good cook, so this way, you and I can get the best food around,” he said.

“Oh,” Cecelia said, feeling a shot of disappointment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well, you seem like a practical girl. You’re a handyman and a cook.”

“Oh,” Cecelia said, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach.

“You can cook our dinner then do a little cleaning.”

She blinked at him. Disbelief rippled through her. “Clean?” she echoed.

“Sure. If you can cook and fix a pipe, then you can clean.”

Cecelia could only stare at him in surprise.

“Yeah, and after you clean, maybe you and I can spend a little time in the sack,” he said with a wink.

Cecelia counted to five. Ten was far too long. “No way,” she said. “Never in a million years.”

“Hey, I’ve heard I’m pretty good in the sack,” he said.

She turned away and headed back to the rooming house.

Furious, Cecelia stomped the entire way to the Strickland’s. She stomped up the stairs to the door and prayed she wouldn’t run into anyone who would ask questions.

She was so blind with anger, she walked straight into a hard male body.

Cecelia swore under her breath.

“Whoa,” Nick said. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I thought you had a date,” he said, looking at her curiously.

“You were wrong. I was wrong. This wasn’t a date,” she said, trying to conceal her fury.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, this was not a date,” she said. “No date,” she repeated.

“But,” he said, “this was going to be your dream guy.”

“Shut up,” she said. “There is no dream guy. At this rate, there’ll never be a dream guy for me.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “That sounds kinda drastic.”

“Very sure,” she said as she stomped up the steps to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Cecelia was so upset she didn’t know what to do. She’d been hoping that this date with Bill would turn out well. It wasn’t as if she was in love with him, but she just needed a little encouragement. She needed to feel attractive. She needed to feel that it was possible for a man to want her.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Her frustration grew at the overwhelming emotions racing through her.

A knock sounded at her bedroom door. “Cecelia,” Nick said. “Are you okay?”

She sniffed, swiping at her tears. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

Silence followed, and she took a breath.

“You don’t sound fine. Let me buy you a burger at the Ace in the Hole. You need to get out.”

Cecelia glanced around her room and felt as if the walls were closing in around her. Maybe she should go with him. She was certainly in no mood to stay in her room all night.

Chapter Two

“Come on. Sit down and tell me all about it,” Nick said to Cecelia after he’d finally talked her into joining him at the bar on Saturday night. “I’ll buy you a beer and a burger.”

Cecelia shot him a deadly look that might have made another man wince, but Nick had known her too long for that. “A beer isn’t going to make this better. I don’t like beer that much, anyway.”

Surprise rippled through him. “Oh, really? I wonder why I never noticed.”

“Because it would take too much effort to notice, and I’m apparently not worth the effort,” she said with a frown.

“Whoa,” he said, lifting his hand. “No need to club me. I’m on your side, remember?”

Cecelia shook her head, clearly contrite. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’m not good company for anyone at the moment. I need to shake off this funk. Maybe I really should be making more firm plans to go back home.”

Nick hated it when Cecelia talked about moving back to Thunder Canyon. It wasn’t as if he had any romantic feelings for the woman he’d known since childhood—she was practically like his little sister—but he knew he would miss her. Sometime along the way she’d become a buddy he could count on. “Hey, my coaching offer is still open. You could just give it a try. You could end up with better-quality dates.”

“Hmm,” she said and cut her eyes at him. “Speaking of dates, why aren’t you out tonight?”

“I’ve got to be up early to help get a senior guy’s house ready for his return from a physical rehab center,” he said.

“That’s nice of you,” she said.

He shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious from the compliment. “Least I can do. You do more than your share of volunteer activities yourself,” he said. “But enough of patting ourselves on the back. Let’s talk about fixing your dating life.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Okay, you’re on. I’ll give it a try. What is it that men want, anyway?”

“Well,” Nick said, studying Cecelia for a long moment. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You’ve got all the basics covered. You got nice long brown hair and pretty eyes.”

“Need to check my teeth?” she joked.

He chuckled. “No. I’ve seen your teeth. You’ve got a nice smile. I think you need to try wearing more makeup. Lipstick. Red lipstick. Men love red lipstick.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m going to get a date just because I change the color of my lips.”

He lifted his hands. “You asked. I answered. You could probably pick some up at Crawford’s General Store.”

“They don’t carry lipstick, do they? And how would you know if they did?”

“They carry a little bit of everything. If you don’t believe me, I’ll walk you over there right now and see. If they have red lipstick, then you have to put it on and come back here tonight while you’re wearing it.” He paused, calculating that he might have to give her a little dare as a push. “Unless you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said, bristling. “I’ll walk over there with you tomorrow, then we’ll come back to the bar.”

“All right then,” he said, and took a sip of his beer. “It’s a deal then. You get red lipstick at the general store. Afterward, you test my theory at the Ace in the Hole.”

She hesitated a half beat, as if she didn’t know how to respond to him, then lifted her chin. “Deal on,” she said.

The next afternoon, Cecelia met Nick inside the entryway of the rooming house. He opened the door for her in gentlemanly deference and she looked at him in surprise. That made Nick realize that maybe he’d been treating her like one of the guys a bit too much. Cecelia deserved better. She really was the best woman he knew. She was the one person he felt as if he could really trust. He could be himself with her. If he weren’t so determined not to risk his own heart, she would be the kind of woman he would want. But Nick knew marriage wasn’t in the cards for him. That meant he had to help Cecelia find a man if he wanted to keep his best friend in town.

“Well, that’s new,” she muttered and led the way down the stairs.

They walked the few blocks through town to the general store, where Nick opened the door. It was a crisp fall afternoon that hinted at the chill that would soon envelop Rust Creek Falls for most of winter. Having lived in Montana his entire life, Nick was well accustomed to cold weather and snow. He also knew that some of the newer visitors, in particular the rush of women from out of town looking for men, would be hard-pressed to last the entire winter.

One thing about Cecelia was that she knew how to dress for chilly weather. The trouble was that she didn’t dress at all sexily. Nick supposed it must be hard to bare much skin when it was cold outside. Still, other women managed it, so Cecelia could, too.

“Toiletry aisle,” Cecelia murmured as they headed in the same direction. “Razors, shampoo, hand lotion. Don’t see any lipstick. Well, darn,” she said with a cheeky smile.

Determined, Nick wandered farther down the aisle. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at a small display of cosmetics.

Cecelia walked toward him and glanced at the shelves. “Looks like nail polish. And lipstick,” she added in surprise. “But no red,” she said as if she were relieved.

Nick knelt down to the bottom shelf and picked up a plastic-wrapped tube of red lipstick. He held it toward her. “Looks like red to me.”

Cecelia groaned. “I can’t believe Crawford’s actually carries hooker-red lipstick.”

“It’s not hooker red,” he told her and pointed at the end of the tube. “Look. They call it Seduce Me Sin. That’s what you need. A little seducing and a little sin,” he said, although the sin image bothered him a little bit.

“But red is so attention-getting. It screams look-at-me. Like I’m a tart,” she complained.

“Are you already welching on our deal?”

“Not at all,” she said, clutching the lipstick as she walked toward the register.

“I’ll buy it,’ Nick said.

“Not necessary,” she said and waited for the clerk to ring up her purchase.

“Pretty color,” the clerk said.

“Hmm,” Cecelia said in a noncommittal tone and quickly paid for her purchase. She walked toward the door then stopped abruptly. “I need a mirror,” she said. “Oh, wait, I can look in the window.”

Staring into the window, she applied the red lipstick then turned to Nick. “Does it look okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s nice,” he said. “Very nice.”

At that moment, he felt her gaze on his and with her mouth uplifted, she was close enough...to kiss. Nick blinked. Weird thought. At the same time, he couldn’t help inhaling her sweet natural scent. Cecelia really didn’t need lipstick. She didn’t need anything. She was pretty just the way she was. Unfortunately, she was competing with women who packed a lot more in their arsenal. At the same time that he knew he was helping her to attract a man, Nick felt reluctant about tampering with her natural beauty.

Cecelia sighed. “I guess we’d better head back to the bar so you can see that red lipstick isn’t going to make a bit of difference in whether I get a date or not,” she said and led the way through the door. “Haven’t you heard that expression about putting lipstick on a pig? Not that I’m a pig, but I’m just me. Plain ol’ Cecelia.”

“You don’t look like plain ol’ Cecelia to me,” Nick said. “With a little more makeup and some different clothes, you could look like a model in an advertisement.”

Cecelia rolled her eyes at him. “Because makeup and different clothes make so much sense when I spend most of my time dodging sawdust, stomping past nails and screws and yelling over construction equipment.”

Nick shook his head. “You have a point, but you agreed to this experiment,” he said as he opened the door to the bar.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said and followed him to one of the few empty tables.

“Let me get you a beer,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said and drummed her fingers on the table. “How long do I have to wear this war paint?” she asked.

“The rest of the night,” he said firmly. She shot him what looked like a combination smile and snarl and he headed to the bar to get their drinks. Nick got stopped along the way by a pretty girl from Idaho and started flirting. Humming after getting her number, he headed over to the table Cecelia had nabbed for them, but stopped when he saw a man chatting with her.

He watched her slice her hand through the air and say no. The man appeared to walk away reluctantly. Nick walked the rest of the way to the table and sat down with the drinks. “What was that about?”

“Some guy came up. I didn’t know his name. He asked if he could buy me a beer,” she said and took a sip. “I told him no. I don’t know who he is.”

Nick groaned. “Cecelia, you don’t just cut a guy off at his knees when he offers to buy you a beer.”

“But I didn’t know him,” she said. “He could be an ax murderer. Or married.”

“I’m not sure which is worse,” he said, rubbing his chin. “But you’re trying to get a date, so when a guy offers to buy you a beer, your answer should be yes.”

Cecelia frowned. “What if I don’t want a beer? Or what if I don’t like the way he looks?”

“Too bad. You have to at least give the guy a chance.” Nick shook his head. “This is going to take more work than I planned.”

“I’m not sure it’s going to work, period,” she said.

“You put on the lipstick and a guy approached you. You can’t deny that, can you?”

Cecelia nearly squirmed in her seat. “No,” she said in a low voice. “And I’m not wearing this lipstick to work.”

“A deal’s a deal,” Nick said. “You agreed to try my plan in order to improve your nonexistent love life.”

Cecelia squinted at him. “You are hard on my ego.”

“I am not. You’ve got everything you need to make the guys come after you. You just need to learn a few tricks, and I can help you with that. Day after tomorrow, I want to take a look at what’s in your closet. Do you even own a dress?”

Cecelia dropped her jaw. “Of course I own a dress. A black one for attending funerals.”

“Oh, Lord, I can imagine that’s a hot number,” he said and waved his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “Day after tomorrow.”

“If this is so important, then why are we waiting?” she asked.

Nick smiled. “Because I have a date tomorrow night.”

“Of course you do,” she said and took a sip of water. “What have I gotten myself into?”

* * *

Two days later, a knock sounded on her door and she opened it to Nick. “Hi,” she said. “How was your date?”

“The food was okay,” he said, squinting. “Chewy chicken, but she tried.”

“How soon did you leave after dinner?” she asked.

“Ten minutes,” he said.

She shook her head. “Oh, Nick, that was harsh.”

He shrugged. “I fixed a leak under her kitchen sink.” He stepped inside her room. “Show me your closet.”

Cecelia winced as she led him to the small closet in her room. She opened it and he immediately began to fan through her clothes...flannel shirts, jeans, jeans and more jeans. Jackets, jackets and more jackets. He paused at her long black dress and sighed then flipped through several more hangers.

“I’m not seeing anything that has a hem above your ankles except this funeral dress,” he muttered.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Dresses and skirts aren’t practical in my line of employment.”

“Well, you need at least a couple,” he said bluntly.

“That’s ridiculous. I’ll freeze,” she said.

“Wear boots and stockings, like other women do,” he said and shrugged again.

She frowned. “I don’t have the budget for a new dress.”

“I do,” he said. “So either you pick it out or I will.”

She scowled. “I don’t have to time for shop for a dress.”

“Then you’ll get whatever I choose,” he said.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll go into town next week.”

“How about now?” he asked.

She sputtered and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Tomorrow I have to get up early to help with the kids’ soccer games,” she said.

Nick tapped his watch. “It’s five-fifteen,” he said. “I know you’re not planning to go to bed before nine. Come on. Let’s go to Kalispell. If we get moving we can knock this shopping off the list and be back in no time.”

“Won’t everything be closed?” she asked, uncomfortable at the prospect of trying on dresses for Nick.

“They have a new department store that stays open till nine. Come on. Let’s go.”

“You are really determined, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. Plus I don’t want Rust Creek Falls to lose you just because we need to wake up a guy or two. I have a goal to get you a date. Or two. Or three,” he said. “We can grab a burger on the way.”

Cecelia joined Nick in his pickup truck and they squabbled over which radio station for a few minutes. Nick wanted to listen to college football and she wanted some music to calm her nerves. She was starting to wonder if she’d made a mistake by agreeing to follow Nick’s advice to get a man. She sure hadn’t counted on him giving her cosmetic and wardrobe advice. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized guys thought about that stuff. Especially a man’s man like Nick.

She stole a glance at his hard profile and sank lower in her seat. Well, her best friend, Jazzy, had gotten herself into a so-called pretend marriage that had become very real. Cecelia sighed. So, maybe she was going to have to be more open-minded. Even if it killed her.

A half hour later, Nick pulled into the parking lot of the nationwide department store. Her stomach took a dip. “Maybe you should wait here,” she said.

“Oh, no,” he said. “You might go in there and find something my grandmother would wear.”

“Shame on you,” she said. “Your grandmother isn’t even alive.”

“Exactly,” he said and put the truck in park. “Let’s get this done.”

Cecelia reluctantly climbed out of the truck and joined Nick as they walked into the department store. She shoved her hands into her pockets and, after looking at the signs, headed for the ladies’ department.

One sales associate was straightening a table of sweaters.

Nick pointed to the woman. “Let’s talk to her.”

“We could look around first,” she said, her nervousness increasing.

“No need. Hello, miss,” he called. “We’re looking for a dress. And maybe a skirt,” he said.

The woman looked from Nick to Cecelia. “For you or her?” she asked.

Cecelia looked at Nick and treasured the discomfort on his face. “Her,” he said. “Definitely her.”

The woman with a name tag that said Debbie nodded. She gave Cecelia an assessing glance. “Size six or eight,” she said. “What’s the occasion?”

“She’s got a couple of dates coming up,” Nick said.

“Let me find you a few things to try on,” the woman said and led the way through the racks of clothing.

Moments later, Cecelia stood in the dressing room with a load of dresses and skirts. Tugging off her clothes, she pulled on a dress. A knock sounded on the dressing room door, startling her.

“Your friend would like to see your dress,” Debbie said.

Cecelia made a face at the mirror then took a deep breath and walked to just outside the room. Nick glanced at her and shook his head. “Dress needs to be shorter.”

The sales clerk stepped toward them. “This could take a while, sir. Perhaps you would prefer to take in a game at the sports bar next door.”

Nick hesitated a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Find me when you’re done. Just don’t pick out anything my grandmother would wear.” He walked away.

Cecelia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now,” Debbie said. “Let’s move on to the next selection.”

Twenty-five minutes later, Cecelia walked out of the department store with a dress and skirt she didn’t hate. Both had been on sale, and Debbie had secretly given Cecelia her employee discount. She felt a little more confident after purchasing the two garments.

Walking toward the sports bar, she smiled to herself as she strode inside and spotted Nick drinking a beer and watching a football game. She scooted onto the stool next to his. “How’s it going?” she asked.

He glanced up at her in surprise then took a sip of beer and shrugged. “Okay. They’re not showing my teams.”

“Boise State or Oregon Ducks,” she said.

“Or even Washington Huskies. I don’t ask much,” he grumbled.

She smiled. “Not much,” she echoed.

“Hmm,” he said with a nod and glanced at her bag. “What did you get? I’ll reimburse you.”

She lifted her chin. “No,” she returned. “They were on sale.”

“Great,” he said. “Grandma clothes.”

“No,” she said.

“So when are you going to show me?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” she said. “You’ll be lucky to see them.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, I drove you here. The least you can do is give me a little fashion preview.”

Cecelia grinned impudently. “Your reward is the pleasure of my company.”

“Oh, no,” Nick mocked. “I’ve created a monster.” He chuckled. “Look out, Rust Creek Falls.”

Cecelia felt her grin fade to a grimace. “I wouldn’t count on that big of a splash.” Stealing a sideways glance at Nick, she wondered what it would take to attract him. She wondered what it would take to make Nick fall head over butt. Cecelia closed her eyes at the silly thought. Nick was in complete control of his heart and his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He wasn’t falling for any woman.

They rode back to town listening to a Boise State football game. Cecelia just leaned her head back against the headrest and wondered what she was getting herself into. Did she really want to attract so much attention?

Did she want to remain invisible?

She closed her eyes, wondering if she’d deliberately fended off romantic possibilities. Had she been afraid? Or had she just wanted more than what she’d seen in the men she’d met in Rust Creek Falls?

The prospect gave her a headache. Too much to think about. After all, she’d bought her first dress and skirt in an eon. That should be enough.

* * *

The next morning, Cecelia awakened early. She showered, put her hair back in its regular ponytail and hesitated a microsecond before she put on the dreaded red lipstick. She’d almost become immune to it, blanking it out after she applied it in the morning. If she was lucky, she’d chew it off within a half hour.

Pulling on her jeans, a shirt and vest and tennis shoes, she rushed out of the boardinghouse without eating. She was running late and needed to help out with the community soccer games at the park. She timed the games, sometimes refereed and always gave pats on the back.

She gave a big wave to the leader of the league, Mr. Daniels, as she ran toward the field.

He smiled and waved in return. “Glad you’re here. No backup today.”

“No problem. Lots of little ones today,” she said, noting the mass of children.

“Yeah. Good weather. Not much sickness except for mine,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here. The wife, Sheila, is home with Bobby.”

“I’m sorry he’s sick,” she said.

“The doc says it’s just a virus. He should be better soon.” He pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here’s the schedule. It’s gonna be a long day.”

Cecelia alternated between timing and being a referee. Just as she finished her duties, she heard a male voice.

“Hi,” he said.

She glanced up from her time sheet. The man in front of her was young and attractive. “Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You want to go get some wings?”

She blinked at the invitation. She’d been helping at soccer games throughout the fall and no one had approached her for so much as a cup of water.

“I’m Brent Mullins. I coach for my son’s team,” he said.

She bit her lip and wondered if she wore a remnant of lipstick. “I... Uh. Are you married?”

He threw back his head and laughed. White teeth, she noticed. Very white teeth. “I’m divorced. It was friendly.”

Cecelia gave a slow nod. “Good,” she said and shrugged. “Wings sound great.”

About an hour later, Cecelia joined Brent as they walked toward Buffalo Bart’s Wings-To-Go. “How long have you been in Rust Creek Falls?” she asked.

“I’m a supervisor at the mill. My ex-wife has lived here a long time, but I’m not sure it’s the place for me. We split up a couple years ago and I moved away for a job.”

“Too small?” she asked, shoving her hands in her pocket.

“Something like that,” he said. “But I don’t want to be far away from my son, so I came back.”

“Tough decision,” she said.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to think about that every minute,” he said. “At some point, you just have to live your life.”

“Very true,” she said as they got in line at the wing shack. She took a sidelong glance at Brent. “Just curious. What made you ask me out for wings?”

He met her gaze and shook his head. “It’ll sound crazy.”

“Crazy, how?”

He shrugged. “Your smile,” he said. “You smiled at all the kids. And your ponytail,” he said and lowered his voice. “And your red lipstick. What a combination.”

Cecelia couldn’t help thinking of Nick. Oh, heaven help her. He was right. Lipstick mattered.

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