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“I’m not like you, Grace.”
“What? Slutty?”
“You know that’s not what I mean! I just…I don’t know what to do with men. I get nervous. I make too many jokes. I act like a kid sister instead of their fantasy sex machine.”
“Come on, Merry. Men don’t want a fantasy. They want something real.”
Merry frowned but tried to hide it by turning back to the coffeepot, which was trickling out that last little bit of caffeine. That was easy for Grace to say. Grace, in all her reality, was a fantasy. She was edgy and strong and striking. She intimidated men in a way that turned them on.
Merry, on the other hand, was a friend. A perpetual friend. The girl who always had a good joke and a smile.
She didn’t know how to be sexy. And it didn’t seem to be something she could learn, damn it.
“Whatever,” she finally said. “It doesn’t matter. My point is you don’t have to worry about Shane. Shit, I wish you did.”
“Okay, I’ll drop it. I’m sorry, I just… You came here because of me. I feel like I need to watch out for you.”
“Bullshit, Grace. You always say the same thing.”
Grace shrugged and pushed the mugs forward for coffee. “None of those guys have been good enough for you. You know that’s true.”
“Good Lord, I’m not the Virgin Mary. If he’s got a job and a penis, he’s already halfway up my scale. And I don’t really care about the job.”
Grace choked on laughter. “Shut up. That’s not true. It’d better not be true or you’re grounded, young lady.”
Merry just shook her head. “You’re the one who let me move into a place called the Stud Farm.”
Grace rolled her eyes, but Merry laughed as hard as she ever did at the joke.
The apartment building was really the two-story house of the old Studd farmstead, converted into four identical apartments, two on the ground floor, and two upstairs. She didn’t know if it had an official name, but everyone called it the Stud Farm after Aunt Rayleen’s tendency to fill it with single young men. Young compared to her, anyway.
When Grace had blown into town last year, even Rayleen hadn’t had the heart to send her away. She’d let Grace stay for a few weeks, and even though the old battleax tried to hide it, Merry could tell the woman loved her niece. She’d let Grace keep the apartment, and she’d let Merry move in, too, but the Stud Farm name would probably never go away.
Merry elbowed Grace. “Go take a shower while I fold up the bed. You’re probably filthy from last night. Which really pisses me off. I’m leaving in an hour, whether you’re ready or not.”
* * *
SHANE WALKED DOWN the hard-packed dirt road that ran through the center of Providence. Merry was sitting on the porch of one of the few buildings that still looked relatively safe. The porch beams weren’t canting off toward the east. The stairs were still intact. He hoped she’d chosen well. He’d hate for her to fall through the floorboards into the spider nests that undoubtedly filled the space beneath. He’d better check out that porch just to be sure.
She didn’t seem to have noticed him yet, so Shane took the chance to study her while she was so untypically still. Her dark hair looked black but he knew it was lighter than that. A deep brown like stained walnut. He’d never really had a preference in women’s looks, as far as blond versus brunette, but he couldn’t help noticing how striking she looked sitting there. Her tan skin looked pale in contrast to the curve of hair that fell over her cheek as she read, and her wide mouth was rosy-pink and tipped up in a small smile even in solitude. Merry was the perfect name for this strange girl.
At least she was smart enough to stay out of the sun. Even with her coloring, at this altitude she’d burn like hell, and her shoulders were totally exposed in the pink tank top she was wearing. So Merry was smart enough to stay out of the sun, but not smart enough to pay any attention to her surroundings. She had earbuds in her ears. Like every city person he’d ever met, she put more value on her electronics than the beauty that surrounded her.
He glanced toward the looming peaks of the Tetons, then back to Merry, her head bent over some sort of device. She couldn’t hear the crunch of his boots against the patches of gravel and dried grass, but he could hear the tinny echo of the music that leaked from her ears.
Shane sighed as he drew within five feet of the porch. She didn’t react. He stopped two feet from her and cleared his throat.
When she didn’t notice, he coughed.
Still nothing. Was she this vulnerable every day? Did she think there weren’t creeps and rapists in Wyoming? Hell, in addition to the residents, some of whom were pretty damn rough and mysterious, the place was crawling with strangers from all over the world.
Irritated by his own concern, Shane stepped forward and knocked on the porch rail. “Hello?”
Merry finally glanced up, and her whole body jerked in shock. “Ah!” she screeched, an iPad flying from her hands as if it were a bird startled into flight.
Her wide eyes left him to watch the thing tumble through the air and right over the railing. “Ah!” she screamed again.
She surged to her feet to stare in dismay at the cloud of dust rising up around her iPad. “Oh, my God! Oh, no!”
