“Sorry to end your streak, but no.”
“Platonic acquaintances don’t get that intense about each other’s haircuts. And did you see how she blushed? She likes you.”
Yeah, she’s so crazy about me that she’s going out of her way to throw me at other women. Nick returned the stylist’s smile in the mirror but didn’t bother responding.
What would Tess see in him? He was a horse-raising cowboy who occasionally found it difficult to articulate consecutive sentences; he had little time to date and the only dance performance he’d been to in his entire life was Bailey’s recital last spring. Tess’s two favorite things in life seemed to be ballet and conversation, and she wasn’t fond of horses. All they had in common were ancient playground history and affection for his daughter. Tess Fitzpatrick was exactly what she’d always been, an outspoken yet supportive friend.
Nothing more.
* * *
TESS STOPPED JUST INSIDE the department store, next to a pair of mannequins Nick found unsettling. Their features were vaguely alien—and sinister, as if they spent the hours after closing plotting the downfall of humankind.
“This is where we part ways,” Tess announced cheerfully.
“It is?” Nick was confused. She’d had a very definite opinion about his hair, yet didn’t care what clothes he selected? “I thought this was the montage where I try on outfits for your approval while some cheesy pop song is playing.”
Tess shook her head. “Nope. Bailey and I are going to check out that merry-go-round at the other end of the mall. If you want a second opinion on clothes, there are friendly sales associates I bet would be eager to help.”
“Ah.” So he was being ditched because Tess wanted him to practice flirting, which would be tough with an audience of his daughter and a woman mistaken for his significant other.
“Text me when you’re done here,” Tess said, “but take your time.”
“You say that now.” He cocked his head toward his daughter. “Someone can be a real handful.”
Tess laughed. “You’re talking to the original ‘unruly handful.’ According to my mother, at least. Trust me, I can keep up.”
While Nick had always been grateful for the help his mother gave him with Bailey, Erin Calhoun was the first to admit she was no longer the young woman who’d raised three boys. Her granddaughter wore her out quickly. After a few hours in Tess’s exuberant company, he was developing a finer appreciation for the reasons Bay wanted a mom. Renewed determination surged through him. He was going to follow whatever instructions Tess gave him and brave the dating world. Whether Farrah fell for him or not, Bailey wouldn’t grow up motherless simply because her father was too skittish to speak to women.
He met Tess’s gaze. “Got any last-minute advice?”
“Be yourself, just not yourself.”
“I should have been more specific. Got any advice that makes sense?”
Intrigued, Bailey stopped turning circles at Tess’s side. “You give me advice in ballet class. Are you teaching Daddy about dancing?”
“No, this is different advice.” Tess lifted her chin, doing her best to look somber. “I am a woman of much wisdom.”
Bailey frowned, her small forehead crinkled in confusion. Nick laughed outright.
“Hey!” Tess jabbed him in the shoulder. “Show some respect for the wise woman.”
He grinned down at her. “Aren’t wise women usually old and wrinkled? You’re...” His gaze slid over her, from her warm brown eyes to her wraparound navy dress, and his words evaporated.
It wasn’t a complete shock that she had such a delectably curvy little body—most of the times he saw her she was wearing a leotard and tights, after all. But he was usually in a hurry, ready to spend time with his daughter after a long day and often preoccupied with formulating dinner plans. And Tess was frequently talking to other parents or students, flashing him a smile from across the studio lobby. Though he saw her every single week, he now realized he hadn’t truly been looking at her. Suddenly, it—
Oh, hell. He was having one of those, what had she called it earlier? A lightbulb moment.
“Nick?” Her voice was soft, more tentative than he’d ever heard it, and her cheeks were scarlet.
Words failed him, as they so often did. He wished he knew how to express how lovely she was without insulting her by sounding stunned. He didn’t want to offend her. Nor did he want to sound like his slick, skirt-chasing brother, doling out compliments to any woman who crossed his path.
He cleared his throat. “You... You were going to explain your cryptic statement? About being me but not?”
“Right. While you want to step outside your comfort zone—”
“I do?” he asked wryly.
“Yes. It builds character.” Her smile was wide enough to show off her dimples, and he was glad to see her relaxed again, the unwanted tension between them dispelled. “You need clothes that aren’t your usual chambray button-downs or shirts with the Galloping C logo. But you don’t want to go so far outside your norm that you’re self-conscious. A man at ease is an attractive man.”
“What’s attractive?” Bailey interrupted.
“It means women will like him.”
“Oh, good!” Bailey clapped her hands together. “If a grown-up lady really, really likes him, I might get a new mommy like Suzie.”
Nick groaned, eager to change the subject. “Don’t you two have a merry-go-round to find?”
“We’re leaving,” Tess said, her expression apologetic.
Alone, he wandered farther down the tiled path that segmented accessories from appliances. A sharply dressed salesclerk in head-to-toe black appeared from nowhere, like a coyote who’d scented an injured calf.
“Can I interest you in our new signature fragrance?” Without waiting for an answer, she misted him with cologne.
Blehhh. He coughed, enveloped in a cloyingly sweet cloud. W
hat self-respecting man wanted to smell like this?
“Not for me,” he managed, lengthening his stride while she tried to convince him to buy the four-piece collection. Shower gel, deodorant and aftershave, all matching the cologne? In Nick’s opinion, if a man stunk bad enough to need four combined products to fix it, he should just live in seclusion and not inflict himself on folks.
He slowed once he found himself amid racks of clothes with no idea where to start.
“May I help you, sir?”
Turning warily, he checked to ensure that the auburn-haired woman wasn’t wielding a spray bottle. “Umm...”
Tess had encouraged him to be himself. What I am is a retail-averse cowboy with less than no interest in fashion and vague hopes of impressing a woman. Well, he could work with that.
“Lord, I hope so.” He gave her the most winning smile he could muster; she looked dazed for a second, then smiled back. “I’m not real sure what I’m doin’ and I’d love to get your opinion. I’d like to find something appropriate for, say, a first date with a special lady.”
“Oh.” The woman peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “Lucky girl.”
* * *
BY THE TIME NICK REJOINED Tess and Bailey, he had two new shirts, a pair of slacks and a grudging appreciation for the mall. Granted, it would never be his favorite place in the world, but the past hour hadn’t been nearly the painful experience he’d anticipated. Janette, the auburn-haired salesclerk, had been a huge help. Maybe the friendly smiles she’d showered on him and the way she batted her eyelashes were because she worked on commission, but she’d seemed genuinely drawn to him. Then there’d been the woman who stopped him on his way out to ask if he’d shrug into a jacket she was considering as a gift.
“For my brother,” she’d been quick to add. “Not a husband. I’m single.” She was trying to get an idea of fit and said he was tall like her brother.
Perspective was everything. As the shortest male in his family, Nick rarely viewed himself as tall. You are when you’re with Tess. At her height, she would only barely be able to rest her head against his shoulder. Not that she had any reason to do so, Nick reminded himself, blinking the image away.