Heat rose to my cheeks, and I threw a hard glare at the Tony Lamas. Had a spell been placed on the boots to get me to fall for Travis? Or to compelhimto fall for me? Was that why he was suddenly so thoughtful and perceptive and had taken me to Fairy Rock? Pre-cowboy boots, he’d been rude and standoffish. Post-cowboy boots, he was a whole different animal.
“Why? Are they charmed?” It would also explain why I was wildly attracted to someone I shouldn’t be. Someone I should be scared of. Someone who?—
“O.M.G. no,” Portia said vehemently, saying the letters notthe words. “They’re just good old-fashioned cowboy boots. Promise.”
I relaxed again, but only a little.
Was I really starting to have feelings for Travis? Actual romantic feelings?
No and no.
Okay, so maybe I was crushing on him. I mean, how could I not be? The man was unbelievably hot and could be really considerate.
He was also a werewolf.
Charmed boots or not, given my track record of falling for men who turned out to be trouble, I didn’t trust my instincts. Not anymore. If anything, I was just a star-struck fan of a handsome celebrity.
A little voice in the back of my head annoyingly pointed out that I hadn’t known he was a celebrity. I hadn’t watchedSecret Shadowsbefore bingeing a few episodes in my room last night, so I couldn’t be considered a fangirl of his work. I ignored it.
“Ah, look at the feckin’ time,” the receptionist exclaimed, jumping to his feet. I noticed he was wearing a kilt.
“Dad! Language.”
“If ye miss the bus again,” he told the girl, “yer ma will kill me.” With his daughter and pink backpack in tow, he rushed out of the salon, calling something unintelligible over his shoulder as the door slammed.
I raised my brow quizzically and wondered if Portia understood that.
She shrugged. “Angus shares custody of his daughter with his ex and does this almost every day when he has her.”
I looked around again. Pendant lights over the manicure stations were constructed from gears, vintage glass and filament bulbs.
“I love your place,” I told her. “The colors. All the details. It’s got a great vibe.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Viktor,” she said, blowing a kiss toward the garage. “I just tell him what I want him to make, and he makes it.”
I remembered seeing her with a handsome, burly guy on the ferry. “Your husband is very talented.”
“He is. Very.” The way she said this implied more than just his skill at repurposing car parts. “So…how did things go?”
I started to bite a hangnail then thought better of it considering where I was. “Well, I’m not leaving the contest, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Nice! And…?”
“And my team won the Ranch Challenge. We’re going on a group date tonight.”
“Yes!” She pumped her fist and did a little jig, clicking her heels on the tile. “I want to hear all the juicy Travis details.”
Despite my protests that I didn’thaveany juicy details or want to get my nails done, she ushered me to a manicure station. She wouldn’t make my nails too long, she assured me. Just tidier and less susceptible to biting. She tried to talk me into their signature colors, fuchsia with black tips, but I went with pale pink instead.
As she buffed, filed and polished, she made me rehash what had happened in the contest so far—who went home, who remained, who wore what, and who said what to whom.
When she was finished, I had to admit my nails looked a lot better.
“Are you sure I don’t owe you anything?” I asked. “You’ve already done so much for me.”
“Nope,” Portia said. “My treat.”
Just then, there was a loud crash from the garage followed by a slew of cursing. So much for thesilence charms. I could see Portia’s husband through the viewing window stomping around, a dark expression plastered on his face.
