by Jennie Marts
Colt glanced down at his plate, suddenly intent on getting the perfect ratio of gravy to his bite of mashed potatoes. “It’s not like that,” he muttered.
“Oh?” she asked faux-innocently as she leaned her chin into her hands. “What is it like?”
“Yes, Brother,” Rock chimed in, a teasing grin on his face as he pointed a chicken leg at Colt. “What is it like?”
Chapter 8
Colt tossed a chunk of biscuit at Rock. “Sometimes I can see the appeal of being an only child.”
“Uh-oh,” Mason said, never one to miss a chance to rib his little brother. “He’s evading the question and getting defensive. He must really like this girl.”
“Shut up. I never said I liked her.”
“You never said you didn’t.”
“She’s a friend. And I feel obligated because I told her I would give her, and the neighbor kids, a ride to and from school. I was hoping we could finish by two today so I’d have time to get cleaned up before I picked her up.”
“You don’t have to,” Quinn said.
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“She said she didn’t need a ride today. Said she had some errands to run in town and was going to walk home.”
Was that true? Or was that just an excuse to get out of having to see him?
Mason was watching him. “That’s a pretty unhappy expression for someone who claims to not like this girl.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like her, I just didn’t say that I like-like her.” This was getting ridiculous.
“Well, I like her. I think she seems cool. She’s smart, and funny, and pretty”—Mason paused, obviously for dramatic effect—“which is why I don’t understand why she would be interested in a chump like you.”
“Hilarious. You should really rethink that career as a comedian, Mace. Except that one was a little weak. Good delivery, but you could do better.”
“Quit giving your brother a hard time,” Vivi scolded. “Plenty of smart, funny, pretty girls have been interested in him.” She reached across the table and squeezed Colt’s chin. “Just look at him. He’s cute and charming. Any girl would be lucky to have him.”
“I think you just found the new line for your dating profile, Bro,” Rock chimed in. Which wasn’t surprising. When the three brothers were together, it was always two against one. Rock made air quotes with his hands and fluttered his eyelashes. “Hi, I’m Colt. I’m cute and charming, and any girl would be lucky to have me. Just ask my mom.”
“Hey, it worked for you,” Colt shot back. “Didn’t it, Quinn?”
“Leave me out of this,” she said, shaking her head. “I think you’re all dorks. And besides, I think Max is already planning to marry her, so she’s off the market for the next decade at least.”
“Speaking of Max,” Colt said, thankful for any excuse to change the subject, “don’t forget, tonight is our first practice for hockey.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t forget if I tried. It’s all Max has been talking about this week.”
“I’m glad he’s excited.”
“He’s beyond excited,” Rock said. “And so am I. I can’t wait to watch him play. I’ll try to come out and help with some of the practices if I’m around.”
“That would be cool. I’m sure the kids would love it. Logan offered to help too. He said he’d be there tonight.”
“Seriously, Brother. Thanks for taking on this coaching thing. I really appreciate it. And I’m glad Logan is helping. Max will get to hang out with two of his uncles.”
“So, if Logan is helping you coach, do you really need me to be there tonight?” Quinn asked Colt.
“No. I guess not.”
Rock wrinkled his brow. “Why can’t you go? Do we have other plans that I forgot about?”
“I don’t know what your plans are, but I could use a date with a bubble bath and a good book.”
Rock’s mouth curved into an impish grin. “I can change my plans. I’ve been thinking I should do more reading.”
She arched an eyebrow in his direction, then turned back to Colt. “I feel guilty because I told Chloe I would be there.”
“Chloe? Funny how this woman’s name just keeps popping up.” Mason chuckled. “But why would she be at hockey practice? Does she have a kid too? A secret love child we’ve never heard about?”
“No kid. And no secret love child. At least that I know of. She’s going to be there because she’s helping me coach.”
“Huh? I thought you just said Logan was helping you coach.”
“He is. But so is Chloe.”
“Why do you need three coaches? And does she know much about hockey?”
“Nope, and apparently she barely knows how to skate. But she has been to a game.”
“A game? As in one?” Mason let out a low whistle. “Wow. Well then, that should qualify her to teach the nephew how to play.”
“Logan and I will be teaching the nephew how to play. But we’ve got a girl on the team, so the league told me I need a female coach. And Chloe offered to help.” Sort of. Offered might be a bit of an overstatement.
“Nice.” Mason tapped the side of his head. “Very ingenious to get a girl player so you could coax Chloe into coaching and hanging out with you. You’re smarter than you look, Brother. So, who’d you talk into joining the team?”
“I didn’t talk anyone into it. In fact, she talked me into it. She’s a girl in Max’s class. Her name is Maddie.”
“She’s one of the Johnson kids,” Quinn said. “They live next door to Chloe.”
“Speaking of the Johnsons, I heard Rank Johnson is out of jail and back in town,” Vivi said. She had a way of hearing about everything that happened in Creedence. “I hope he doesn’t try to show up at any of Maddie’s practices.”
A sliver of worry jabbed into Colt’s gut. The last thing he needed was a dirtball like Rank Johnson showing up at the ice arena. Or hanging around Chloe’s house.
“He’d better not,” Quinn said. “Last I heard, Tina had a restraining order put against him after she filed for divorce. He can’t come anywhere near her or the kids.”
That hadn’t stopped him before.
* * *
It was close to three that afternoon when Chloe finished her lesson plans and finally left the school. She’d been stopped in the hall by Huge…er, Hugh—geez, now Colt had her doing it too—and he’d offered to give her a ride home. She had told him no, claiming she wanted the exercise, and as the gym teacher, he could hardly argue with her reason.
She breathed in the clean, brisk mountain air as she walked toward the main area of town. Rivulets of water trickled across the sidewalks and along the gutters as the bright sun melted the remaining snow. It was commonly said in Colorado that if someone didn’t like the weather, they could just wait an hour, and it would change. Coloradans had been known to have rain, snow, and sunshine all in the same day, and she loved that about her state. A big dump of snow could hit one day, and the sun would melt it away the next. Colorado residents liked to boast that the state had three hundred days of sunshine a year, and she thought that was pretty close to the truth.
Normally, all that sunlight would put her in good spirits, but Chloe was having trouble coming out of the gloomy mood she’d been in most of the day. She’d told Quinn she had errands to run, but that was just an excuse so the other woman wouldn’t have to schlep her home.
Walking past the storefronts, Chloe tried to think if there was anything she did need. She passed Claudia’s Clothing Boutique but wasn’t in the mood to shop for clothes. The Book Nook was normally a place she couldn’t pass without popping in, but the last thing she wanted to do today was browse the romance section. Looking at all those happy couples on the covers would only make her heart hurt more.
A list of groceries she needed ran through her head, but it
could all wait until her normal Sunday shopping trip. Although it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a half gallon of milk, and she could probably use more eggs. And she could carry those home.
She wandered past Carley’s Cut and Curl and caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the window. A crazy mess of curls hung past her shoulders, and she reached up to finger a mousy-brown tendril as she perused the trendy photos circling the window. The hairstyles looked so glamorous. Especially compared to her usual style of letting her hair air-dry and wearing it down until about the middle of the day when it started to drive her crazy, and then she pulled it into a ponytail or twisted it into a bun and jabbed a pencil through the twist to hold it in place.
Carley Chapman, the owner of the shop, popped her head out the door. “Hey there, Miss Bishop.”
“Hi, Carley. You can call me Chloe now. I haven’t had one of your kids in my class for two years.”
“Sorry, Miss… I mean, Chloe.” Carley grinned, then tilted her head toward the pictures in the window. “You thinking about getting a haircut? I just had a cancellation and could fit you in now if you want. I’ve got time to do a cut, and we could give you a little color too. I find a few highlights tend to chase away the winter blues.”
How did Carley know she had the blues? Was it written all over her face? Or was that just the standard line hairstylists used to lure unsuspecting bystanders into their chairs?
Could a simple haircut and a few highlights really help her mood? Chloe looked back at her reflection. Maybe a new look was just what she needed. She’d had the same hairstyle since she’d left for college. And she’d never used color in her hair. Her dad had forbidden it. But her dad wasn’t in charge of her anymore. She was in control of her own life. And her own hair.
Normally, she liked things to stay the same. She knew what to expect when she kept her life in consistent order. But maybe it was time for a change. Time to shake a few things up. Heck, just in the last few days, she’d tried strawberry wine, ridden on the back of a Zamboni, and licked cake batter off a hot cowboy’s finger. A new hairstyle might be exactly what she needed to give her the confidence to face Colt James again after she’d thrown herself at him the night before.
She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Yes. Actually, I would like a haircut. And I think a few of those blues-chasing highlights sound good too.”
Carley grinned. “Come on in then.”
Chloe stepped into the salon. It smelled like shampoo and permanent solution, but it was clean and cheery. The decor was fashioned after the old fifties-style beauty shops with cotton-candy-pink-and-white-striped wallpaper and hot-pink leather chairs. The floor was tiled in black and white squares, and a large framed print of Audrey Hepburn wearing pearls and a diamond clip in her hair adorned the wall over the small row of hair dryers.
She settled into a chair, and Carley draped a pink-and-white-striped cape around her neck. “What do you think?” Chloe asked. “Is there any hope for my drab hair?”
“There is always hope when you’ve got a good stylist. And I am a very good stylist.” She lifted Chloe’s limp locks and ran her fingers through the curls. “You’ve got great hair. It’s healthy and thick, and these curls are to die for. You just need a better style and a little direction on how to use a roller brush, and your hair could be utterly gorgeous. If you’re up for a change, I could take a few inches off, layer the back, put in a few blond highlights, and give you some wispier bangs, and you’d feel like a totally new woman.”
Was she really up for a change? She’d had the same hair, the same routines for so long that Chloe wasn’t sure she was capable of change. But suddenly the thought of keeping things the same felt more like being in a rut than being in a routine. And the only way to make a change was to take a leap. She could do this. It was only hair.
But she knew it was more than just hair—it was a step. And not just a small step, but a giant leap toward breaking the chains her dad and her history held over her. She squeezed her eyes shut and summoned her courage, not from a strawberry-flavored liquor, but from somewhere inside her. I can do this. All I have to do is say yes.
She took another deep breath, then opened her eyes and smiled at Carley. “Yes. Let’s do all those things.” With those words, she could feel the resolution, the glimmer of bravery, flowing through her like water soaking into a sponge. She was doing something. Taking a chance. And it felt good.
But as good as it felt, she tried not to hope for too much. She couldn’t imagine how a new haircut could do all that, but she wanted to feel like a new woman, to be a new woman. She was tired of the old one.
Chloe winced. She wasn’t old. She was just older than a certain someone she knew.
Quit thinking about him. Yeah right. Like that was going to happen. But maybe she could put him out of her mind for a little bit. Just long enough to enjoy the experience of letting someone else pamper her for a while.
“I could do your nails too, if you want,” Carley said. “It wouldn’t take but a minute to paint them while we wait for the color to take.”
Hair and nails in the same appointment? Why not? In for a penny, in for a pound, as her grandma used to say. “A manicure sounds wonderful.”
Two hours later, Chloe walked out of the salon, her steps—and her wallet—as light as her bouncy new hair. Apparently getting a new cut and color was a mood lifter. She caught her reflection in the glass of the Creedence Country Store and marveled at the change of her new look. Wispy bangs brushed her forehead, and the sun gleamed off the light strands of blond.
The new do was trendier and did make her look younger, more in style. She felt younger too. Fresher. And the hot-pink nail polish added a bit of sass. Carley had spent extra time with her, teaching her how to use a round brush and a hair dryer to create the soft waves. Armed with those instructions and the bag of expensive hair products she’d purchased, Chloe even felt fairly confident she’d be able to create the look again.
As she ran her fingers through her frizzless tresses, she noticed the sign for Bud’s Auto Body reflected in the glass. That’s where Colt’s friend had taken her car. Might as well check on it while she was in town. Maybe it would be finished, and she could drive it home today.
She crossed the street and poked her head into the open garage bay. The sound of a pneumatic drill came from underneath the engine of a blue Chevy pickup, but she didn’t see anyone else around. The air smelled of car grease and motor oil.
She spotted her car in the third bay of the shop. It didn’t look bad, other than the front driver’s side door being missing. Which dramatically lessoned the likelihood of her driving it home today. She was pretty sure that was a moving violation of some kind.
An oily puddle of melted snow had formed on the concrete floor, and she gingerly stepped around it.
“Hello,” she called, the word echoing in the cavernous room.
“Be with you in a sec,” a man’s voice answered from beneath the pickup.
Chloe rounded the back of the truck and spied a pair of coverall-clad legs sticking out from beneath it. He gave one last burst of the drill, then slid out and stood up. “Sorry about that. What can I do ya for?”
He had dark hair and an easy, friendly smile. His coveralls were smudged with dirt, but the collar of a bright-white undershirt shone above the buttoned front. He looked to be around Colt’s age, so younger than her. Stop it.
“Are you Bud?”
“Nope. Bud’s my dad. I’m Justin. My dad retired a few years ago, so the shop is mine, but you know small towns. Everyone gets used to a name, and nobody wants to change.” He held up his grease-stained palms. “I’d shake your hand, but…”
“It’s fine. I’m Chloe Bishop. Nice to meet you.” She pointed to the doorless vehicle. “That’s my car.”
He looked her up and down, and a knowing grin spread across his face. “Ahhh, so you’re th
e one.”
“What one?”
“The one who got Colton James to finally take me up on my offer to let me do a favor for him.”
“Well, I can tell you I really appreciate your help, but I’m planning to cover the damages myself.” She had no idea how much it would cost to repair a door, but she knew she wasn’t going to let Colt pick up the tab, no matter how big or small the amount was.
Justin waved a hand in her direction. “Your money’s no good here, Chloe.”
She tried to keep her mouth from dropping open. “You can’t mean that.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I can assure you I do. I’ve known Colt a long time, and I’d do anything for that guy. He did something for me that I can’t ever repay. I owe him big time, but he’s never asked for anything in return. Until now. Until he needed a car towed and fixed… for a woman. For you. You must mean a lot to him.”
Not hardly.
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that, but I do know that I can’t let you fix my car for free. You’ve got to let me pay you something. I know with parts and labor, car repairs can get expensive. And I can’t imagine what kind of favor Colt could have done that would make you want to give away your services.”
Before Justin could answer, the door between the garage and the office opened, and a gorgeous copper-colored golden retriever padded into the garage and sniffed her hand.
“Hello, puppy.” She scratched its ear. “Who’s this guy?” she asked Justin.
The dog turned at the whirr of a motor and raced back to the door as a child maneuvered an electric wheelchair through it. The boy looked to be about Max’s age and had curly blond hair. He pushed his round glasses up his nose and offered her a sweet grin. He looked like a cherub, an adorable angel with no wings.
Justin smiled at the boy. “This is my son, Spencer. And you already met his dog, Milo.”
She waved at the boy. “Hi, Spencer. I’m Chloe. I’m a teacher at the grade school. I know a lot of kids your age, but I don’t think I’ve met you.”
The boy rolled his eyes. “That’s because my parents are ridiculously overprotective, and my mom insists on homeschooling me.”