Page 2 of Rocky Mountain Desire
The quilting shop had been open for only a few months and due to circumstances beyond her control, i.e. the sister from hell, her savings were nearly exhausted trying to make what should have been payments from two pockets.
Just get it done.
“I hope you remember I’m rusty. It’s over six months since I did this on a regular basis,” Hope warned the head dancer.
“Honey, you’ll do fine. You always were one of my best. I’m so glad you agreed to help last minute.” Trish pushed in one final hairpin and stepped back, draping the long wig extensions over Hope’s shoulders. “Don’t be worried. It’s not like anyone can tell it’s you, not with this costume. Plus, I’ve got you on stage second last—by that time all the guys want is to see you wiggle.”
Hope laughed. “Wiggling I can do no problem.”
“Oh, hush. You’ve got curves I’d kill for. You ever move to full stripping, you’d make a mint.”
As if.“Thanks, no. Dirty dancing is as far as I go.”
“No worries. The guy who booked the party specifically said no full nudity.” Trish shrugged. “I’m good either way, but the one thing I know is the guys enjoy variety.”
Hope pointed at the wig on her head. “Which works well for me trying to stay undercover. Only, a mermaid? Really, Trish? When did you expand the costume selection from hard-working women into the fantasy realm?”
Trish patted her cheek teasingly then handed over a sparkling, sequined half mask. “Be thankful I didn’t turn you into an elven princess for the night, pointed ears and all. No one will be staring at your face, anyway.”
True. Hope arranged the mask over her eyes before sneaking another peek downward. Right about then, her sense of the ridiculous got the better of her. She had more than enough hips and ass for the guys to stare at. More than she wanted there to be, but the soft curves refused to diminish no matter how many workouts she put in. Not that she had much time for an exercise routine these days with everything she had to accomplish around the shop.
Trish kept babbling, but Hope had lost interest in listening. Just one step at a time. She was going to go out on that stage, shake her boobs at the gathered men. With the extra cash from tonight added to what she had scrimped together, she’d hit the bank on Monday and make her shop mortgage payment by the deadline. Done.
Of course, that to-do list didn’t mention the paperwork she still had to complete when she got home tonight. Or the new stock she had to put out in the morning. But if she started thinking about her workload, she’d have no energy to dance, and after all Trish’s hard work to glue this costume on her that would besucha pity.
She snorted at her own twisted joke. Hope glanced at the mirror again and fought back giggles. At least her concern that she’d be recognized had lessened now that her costume and mask were in place. Maybe that’s why Trish had scheduled her to dance near the end—give the boys enough time to drink and the alcohol blur would help cover her features.
Money, that’s all this was about.
The most intriguing part of this gig was the shimmering silver wig. She’d worn her hair short during high school, but over the past couple years she’d grown it out so she could wear it back in a ponytail. Dealing with a fancy do while working with customers or bending over a sewing machine was impractical. Still, silver instead of red? Her real colour was probably her favourite feature, but the instant change was amusing. She pulled on the kimono-style cover-up Trish had provided, then made a slow rotation to watch the artificial hip-length hair swirl around her.
Hmm, this could be enjoyable after all.
Another of the girls left the back room, the third to go. Schoolgirl Shelly was back, and she wiggled past Hope, laughing under her breath. “Hot damn—I wish I’d known who’d made the booking before I picked my costume for the night. That was fun, but more embarrassing than usual.”
If Shelly thought taking off most of her clothes and swinging her hips for money was embarrassing, she was in the wrong line of work. Hope had never regretted her dancing days, even if it wasn’t what she intended for her future. “Why more embarrassing?”
Shelly winked. “Because the bachelor’s hooking up with a teacher.”
Okay, that made sense. “You’re kidding. Too funny.”
“Hilarious, but you know what? There’s enough Colemans out there you’re bound to find a profession—”
“Colemans?”Oh shoot.She’d been so focused on the offer of the instant cash she desperately needed, the one question Hope hadn’t thought to ask Trish was the name of tonight’s client.
She snuck a glance through the doorframe. Familiar faces greeted her. Guys she’d gone to school with, guys she saw on a daily basis all over town. That part wasn’t a surprise—she’d figured the crowd would be locals, but damn… Why had she thought this was a good idea?
The money. Every bit helped.
Staring into a sea of Colemans wasn’t what she needed. And when she instinctively managed to find Matt in the crowd, life got just that much stinkier.
“You’re up, Hope. Go give them what for.” Trish’s firm push between the shoulders was the only thing that stopped her from turning tail and racing from the bar without a backward glance.
Matt sat to the side of the room, laughing with his brothers as they joined together in that wall of impenetrable camaraderie she’d always admired. That’s what family was supposed to be like, not cutthroat and undermining.
She only had a second to take him in. His dark hair was longer now, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache covered his chin and upper lip. Oh God, he’d grown a mustache.
She loved what he looked like with facial hair.
