What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he nervous over something so silly?
Maybe because you’re scared you might accidentally brush against McKenna’s skin and discover you want to explore her more?
Chiding himself for his foolishness, he accepted the scissors and stepped toward McKenna.
She scooted away. “That’s okay. You can leave them on. They’re not bothering me.”
“I need the tags to know what to charge you,” Rosalie said.
“You don’t trust me?” Zane teased.
His comment triggered memories of their discussion last night when she asked if he though everyone lied or just her. His lighthearted mood shattered. Their talk had torn open old wounds of who he was not being enough. Of women not seeing past his looks. She’d dredged up injuries making him feel worthless and unlovable that he’d sworn had healed years ago.
If you’ve gotten over it, how come you still don’t want anything to do with your mom or dad?
Shaking off the old memories, he stepped behind McKenna.
“Maybe I shouldn’t trust you with scissors. My nose is finally back to its normal size and my black eye has started fading,” she teased.
“I’ll be gentle.”
Chapter Eleven
Zane’s breath hitchedat his poor word choice.
Telling himself he was being ridiculous, he reached inside McKenna’s collar and fumbled for the tag. His fingers brushed the soft skin on her nape. A shiver rippled through her into him. How could he be so ridiculous? He latched on to the blasted tag and snipped it off.
Irritated at his body’s reaction, he found the tag hanging from her belt and removed it without touching her. Damned if he’d go anywhere near her skirt. The thought of reaching under that garment made him sweat. He hadn’t acted like this as a teenager on his first date.
He slapped the scissors on the counter, along with the two tags he’d removed. “You’ll have to get the one on the skirt.”
The older woman chuckled, walked out from behind the counter, and saw to the task. “It’s refreshing to see a man acting like a gentleman.”
Talk about getting the wrong idea. His red-hot thoughts were anything but noble and would singe the shopkeeper’s ears.
After learning the total, McKenna withdrew a stack of bills from her purse and handed them to Rosalie.
Who carried cash anymore, especially an amount like that? “Haven’t you heard it’s not wise to carry that much money?” he asked.
“I destroyed my credit cards. My monthly bills are automatically paid from my bank account every month. For anything else I pay cash.”
“Sounds smart to me. Not many folks your age are careful enough with credit cards,” Rosalie said as she handed McKenna her change and the bag with her old clothes.
After a few final pleasantries and grabbing the lotion, Zane and McKenna headed across the shop. As he held the door and McKenna slid past him, his pulse quickened as her lavender mint scent floated over him.
Outside, a gust of wind caught her skirt, sending it fluttering around her legs. Long, shapely, firm legs that he’d see in his dreams tonight. Most likely wrapped around his waist.
If he could erase that image from his mind, they’d be better off. He raised the bottle he clutched in a death grip. “I’ll see you at work after I deliver this to Ginny.”
She nodded, and they both headed for their vehicles. He put his truck in gear and was about to back out of his parking space when McKenna got out of her car. He rolled down his window and stuck out his head. “Something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Rosalie gave me an extra dollar in change. I’ll head out after I return it. You go ahead.”
He shook his head. How many people returned extra change? Yup, McKenna was a good girl to the bone.
*
Instead of goinginto the office after delivering Ginny’s lotion, Zane meandered to the pasture by the barn where the horses stood grazing. A feeling of calm descended on him, putting him at ease. Being outside, particularly here on the Lucky Stars or at Ty’s Bar 7 most times cleared his head. Hopefully, it would today.
