Page 23 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

“Ah, maybe because you’re not a college kid, and you certainly don’t need the money.”

Rusty’s frowning glance in Stetson’s direction seemed designed to quell any more comments. “I didn’t do it for the money. I did it to help out someone.”

“A lady in distress. Your predictable MO.”

“I like being helpful. Nothing wrong in that.” He looked in Kristy’s direction, and the frown turned upward. “You should have seen this one jockey vehicles.” He pointed to her, his grin widening. “She was in spiked heels and trying to power walk her way to the cars.”

“It was tough.” But working alongside Rusty had somehow made it fun.

“And then she put on a pair of old sneakers I had in the pickup.” He chuckled, and she giggled.

She must have looked like a crazy person in those too-big shoes. “I was desperate. High heels and power walking do not mix.”

“You looked like you were trying out for the circus in a pair of clown shoes.” He guffawed.

Her giggle turned into a laugh at that image. “I’ll never forget the sound of them slapping the pavement.”

Now they were both laughing, and tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time. She turned to view the others.

No one was laughing. Just smiling at them like they had both lost it. She looked at Rusty. He was trying to squelch his laughter, leaving just a big grin on his face.

“Guess you had to be there.” He glanced at her from under his brows, as if they shared a secret, a look that made her feel warm and cozy inside. Sigh.

The waitress appeared carrying a heavy tray laden with plated food.

“Dig in, people,” Rusty said, as if to close the conversation.

He really was a good guy. And charming, to boot.

Kristy looked around the new apartment, took a deep breath, and brought her hands into a prayerful pose in front of her face. The living area was crammed with boxes, a small sofa, a wooden stand for the TV, and a new coffee table, a gift from her mother, in which the lid raised up to table height. Her mother had felt that last item a necessity when she’d learned there was no designated space for a dining table.

But it wasn’t just the boxes all over the floor, or the empty shelves, or the kitchen that hadn’t been set up yet that had caused the sinking feeling in Kristy’s stomach. Dinner with Rusty and the guys might have taken her mind off her situation for a few moments, but now that she and Ariel were in the apartment and surrounded by boxes, she had to face reality. She had moved hours away from her parents, from her previous clients, and from ex-fiancée to take on a huge project without Marcia to lead the way.

Ariel touched Kristy’s shoulder, as if signaling solidarity. “I’m glad you have furniture. I had to buy a bedroom set, which won’t be delivered until tomorrow.”

“Just glad it fit in here, but then my other apartment had been a tiny one bedroom.” Kristy hadn’t shared digs since her college days, thanks, in part, to her father’s help.

“Well, roomie”—Ariel swept her arm in arc—“I think this calls for a little celebration. I’ve got a nice bottle of wine chilling in our fridge. And paper cups, since I haven’t a clue where you may have packed the dishes. So glad you have all this stuff.”

Kristy sighed. As much as she valued Ariel’s creative skills, her cousin’s laissez faire attitude about… well, just about everything was the exact opposite of Kristy’s button-it-up instincts. “Shouldn’t we unpack a few things before celebrating? I mean, we can barely walk in here for all the boxes. And if I have some wine, I’ll be asleep in like a minute.”

Ariel shrugged. “I’m sharing your bed tonight, which is already made up, and that’s all I care about for the moment. I think we should celebrate. Our new positions, the move. Maybe a new client.”

Kristy winced. The second prospective wedding client had balked at the expense. While Kristy had given the first client, Lisa Wilson, a discount to get started, she couldn’t continue the practice if they were going to meet the business goals. Of course, havingnoclients wouldn’t meet the goals either. And with that thought settling in her head…

“A glass of wine sounds good. This can wait until tomorrow.” She waved a hand, as if she could magically make it all disappear. It didn’t.

“Ha! I’m rubbing off on you already, cuz. Maybe you’ll be up for some fun now that we’re here.” With a look of satisfaction, Ariel pulled the wine bottle from the fridge, rustled up some paper cups from a bag, and sat down on the stool as she poured.

“Maybe you will be good for me.” Lord knew she struggled under the weight of seriousness. She’d never been the bubbly type, and laughter didn’t come easily. Except with Rusty, for some reason. Between her father and Dean, she’d been steeped in taking life seriously and playing to win. It was draining. She took a cup and sipped. “Nice Pinot.”

“And not too expensive either.” Ariel raised her plastic cup. “To An Affair to Remember… and may we each have one.”

Kristy almost spurted out the gulp of wine in her mouth. Struggling to swallow without choking, she managed the feat. “The last thing I want is an affair.”

“Not just any affair—one to remember. And take it from me—that red-haired guy is my choice to give you one.”

“He’s… he’s got baggage, I’m sure.” And likely too much for her to handle.

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