Close Enough to Touch (Jackson Hole 1)
“You’re not from around here.” The understatement of the year.
“Look, I really do appreciate the help, but I need to find my aunt, so…” Give me some space?
He didn’t seem to hear that last, unspoken part of the conversation. “Your aunt?”
“I’m renting the apartment from her.”
“Wait a minute. Old Rayleen is your aunt?”
“My great-aunt, actually.”
“Ah. I get it, then.”
“Get what?” she asked.
“Why she’d rent this place to you.”
Grace straightened her shoulders and scowled. “Why exactly wouldn’t she rent this place to me, huh? Real nice, cowboy.”
She assumed he would stammer and shift and try to find some excuse, when what he really meant was that she didn’t look like a girl who belonged here. But instead of clearing his throat or changing the subject, he just grinned again.
“Let’s just say you’re a little smaller than the other renters here.”
Grace glanced around as if those other renters had just joined them. “I thought you Wyoming folk were supposed to be plainspoken. How about you try saying what you mean?”
“Talk about plainspoken. They don’t make ’em timid where you come from, do they? All right, here’s the deal. Your aunt has a reputation for renting only to men. Says that they’re easier to deal with.” The wry tone of his voice implied something different.
“Uh, is there something going on here I should know about?” When she shot an obvious look down his body, his eyes widened in horror.
“No! Absolutely not. But, hey, if she likes my face enough to give me a hundred-dollar discount on rent, I won’t argue with her. But that’s the extent of her quirkiness. I swear.”
Even the most cynical person could tell he was offering the truth. And his face? Hell, that was enough to inspire generosity. It was lovely in a very masculine way. A jaw like steel. Strong nose. And blue eyes that crinkled with warmth fairly often, if the laugh lines were any indication. And his short brown hair had just enough wave to make it look unruly and disheveled. He was gorgeous, and his body called for further attention, too, but Grace kept her eyes on his face.
“Isn’t it illegal to rent only to men?”
“Beats me. But I guess she gets away with it.”
“Regardless,” she finally said, “I need to find my aunt. Get a key. Let her know I’m here.”
“Well, that’s easy. She’s probably next door.”
“At your place?”
“No! Come on. I meant next door at the saloon.”
“Is she a big drinker?”
“She runs the place,” he corrected. “And she’s a big drinker.”
“Got it. Thanks. I’ll just go see her then.” She was clearly implying he should leave. She even raised an impatient eyebrow and glanced toward the door. But Cole didn’t notice because he was pointedly looking around her apartment.
“You got some furniture coming?”
“Sure. Of course. Thanks for the help.”
He turned his grin on her again. “All right, then, Grace Barrett. Even cowboys can take a hint when you’re bashing them over the head with it. But let me know if you need any more help. I’m only a few feet away.”
“Great. Thanks.”