My Favorite Cowboy Page 6

  “I’m good. I’m just a little warm.” Stepping backward, he mumbled, “I need to be getting on my way. Now.”

  “But—”

  His eyes hardened. “Look, if it will make you feel any better, I’ll pay you for the whole time.” He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and deftly handed over a hundred-dollar bill. “Take it or leave it. I’m done.”

  Serena knew her face was flaming as she took the money. Deftly, she slipped it into her back pocket. “Thank you.” To her surprise, Jarred watched her every move.

  He pulled on his T-shirt’s collar. “No problem. I’ve got to get going.”

  She followed him out to the book stacks back out to where he’d left his hat. “But we’re not done. Please stay.”

  His gaze flickered over her blouse, to where it opened on her chest. “Sorry, Serena. But it’s just too damn hot in here. I mean, really.”

  Before she could comment on that, he pivoted and left the library, barely forty-five minutes after he’d entered.

  Staring at the hundred-dollar bill, Serena fought back the bitter taste in her mouth. She’d just taken money for accomplishing nothing.

  Though a tiny part of her said she should be celebrating—now she could pay her student loan on time—Serena couldn’t help but feel like a huge failure.

  She’d just sunk to a new low.

  And what was worse, she was already looking forward to seeing him again.

  Chapter Seven

  When Jarred met his brother on the sidewalk in front of Ed’s Feed and Seed at four o’clock the next day, Junior looked him up and down. Then he spit. “So, you charming yet?”

  Even though Jarred was standing straight and proud in front of his F-150, inside he was squirming. His brother was making him feel as if he was less on the ball than he’d originally thought.

  He was probably right about that, too.

  “Maybe.”

  “You don’t know? I would have thought you’d have some idea.”

  “Me, too,” Jarred replied as they walked inside the feed store. As the unmistakable smell of the hundred-year-old store surrounded them—really, nothing could ever match the pungent scent of Ed’s in the spring—he dropped off their latest order for oats and grain. “Do you think y’all can fill this pretty soon?”

  “Most likely,” Ed said as he keyed it into the computer, looking at them only when it was time to hand over a credit card. “That it, boys?” he asked around a wad of Bazooka gum.

  “Almost,” Junior replied. “We’ll need a six-pack of antibiotic bottles for the calves, too.”

  Ed chomped. “They’re in the refrigerated case. You go get ’em.”

  As soon as Junior set the six-pack in the cooler in his truck bed, he motioned toward the diner down the street. “That Ed. He’s going to be asking how ‘we boys’ are when we’re sixtyfive.”

  Jarred grinned. “And he’ll still be asking it around a wad of gum—if his jaw still works.”

  “Want to grab a burger?”

  “Always.”

  As the noon sun burned down on their shoulders and they wandered along the beat-up sidewalk, Junior looked his way again. “So you really think you need these manners classes?”

  “If I want Veronica, I do.”

  “Mmm. So how did it go last night?”

  “Not too bad.”

  Of course, he hadn’t been too good, either.

  Jarred knew he’d been brash enough to deserve a licking from his momma. She would have boxed his ears good if she’d been standing in that library, watching him give Serena such a hard time.

  But no way was he going to let on any of that to his brother. “It lasted forever,” he said cockily. “I could hardly wait to leave.” Then, in an all-out effort to save face, he added, “Plus, that class was a bust.”

  But instead of grinning at his misbehavior, Junior looked kind of worried as they stepped around a pair of ladies shopping at the dollar sidewalk sale. “What was wrong?” he asked. “You couldn’t do all the things Serena wanted you to?”

  “I could. Well, almost.” Thinking about their time together, thinking about how his eyes started drifting to the way her butt looked sashaying away from him…Jarred frowned. “I could do the things that were worthwhile. Not the idiotic stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  Jarred demonstrated by stepping to the next entry and opening the door to the Hallmark store. “Things like this.”

  “Like what?”

  Just as Junior was staring at him in confusion, old Mrs. Crane walked right through that open door with a smile on her face. “Why, thank you, Jarred. That’s so kind of you.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am,” he said before meeting Junior back on the sidewalk. When they were out of earshot, he scratched his head. “Huh. Maybe opening doors for women works.”

  “Mrs. Crane sure liked it.”

  Then, to Jarred’s dismay, when cute Mrs. Fuller, their former English teacher, approached, Junior darted to the door and opened it for her.

  Just like a trained seal.

  Mrs. Fuller smiled broadly. “Oh, thank you, Cal. What a sweetie you’ve become!”

  He tipped his hat. “Ma’am.” After he closed the door, Junior looked at him and winked. “Worked like a charm.”

  “Heck, yeah.” But though his voice was sure, inside Jarred knew it was all bravado. His little brother was making that little lesson look like the easiest thing imaginable. He, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to do half as well with a whole lot more instruction.

  And then he’d started thinking that maybe Junior had it right when he’d said her dark hair was real pretty.

  And then he’d begun itching to place his hands on those denim-clad hips and hold her close…and he’d practically gone crazy, he’d been so mad at himself.

  So he acted like a jerk and ran out of there. That was embarrassing.

  Electra was busy. Most everyone they knew was either walking or driving by. As they continued the last three blocks to the restaurant, it became a full-time occupation to either wave or say hey to everyone who passed.

  And then they ran into Veronica Snow.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured when he’d been standing flat in the middle of the sidewalk talking to his brother, effectively blocking everyone’s way coming and going.

  Abruptly, he straightened. “Huh?”

  Junior grabbed his arm and jerked hard to the left. “We’re in the way, stupid.” Smiling sweetly her way, he said, “Sorry. Are you going in the pharmacy?”

  “Yes.” She looked almost apologetic. “My mother needed some prescriptions filled.”

  While Jarred stood there motionless, Junior—the snake—hopped right over and opened that pharmacy door for her. “She doing poorly?” he asked.

  “No worse than usual.” A wan smile peeked out. “Some days are just tough, you know?” Then her cell phone chirped, she pasted it to her ear, and with a little wave of thanks, crossed the threshold.

  Meanwhile, the wide-open door was cooling their area of the sidewalk. The manager of the pharmacy was motioning for them to get in or shut the door.

  More people were walking by.

  Veronica paused and stared at him. “Hold on,” she told whoever was on the phone…then looked back at him. “Did you need something?”

  Say something, he told himself. Say something. Anything!

  “We needed medicine for our cows,” he blurted.

  Wide blue eyes snapped to his, then narrowed. “I hope they feel better,” she said before sticking that phone back to her ear and walking into the store.

  Junior punched his shoulder. Hard. “Cows?”

  “What was wrong with that?”

  “You just compared her mother’s illness with a couple of colicky calves, that’s what’s wrong.”

  “They’re sick, too.”

  To his surprise, Junior hit him again. “Whatever you’re paying Serena, it’s not enough. You’re a wreck, Jarred. That Veronica
Snow is never going to pay good money for your time.”

  “She will. I know she will.”

  “She’s not. She’s never going to like you. Hell, she’s never going to give you the time of day.”

  “Sure she is. Just as soon as I finish my lessons with Serena.”

  “Good luck with that,” Junior said with a snort.

  “Knowing how to hold the door open for a lady doesn’t mean squat.”

  “It does to me. You suck at it.”

  “I’m getting better.”

  As they entered the Burger Shack, Junior held the door open for two more girls. Just as if it was his new trick.

  When the teenagers giggled and sputtered thanks, Junior tipped his hat at them and grinned evilly at him.

  “Shut up and buy me a burger,” Jarred said as he grabbed a table by the front window.

  As Junior walked away, laughing, Jarred knew his brother was right. He needed another lesson. And he needed it fast.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Serena’s number.

  After listening to some sappy Shania Twain song, her voice mail clicked on. “Please leave me a message.”

  Jarred didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Serena, here’s the thing. I need another lesson. Fast. Can you fit me in tonight? I’ll pay double.” He paused. “And, uh, I promise I’ll behave better, too. Call me.”

  He slipped the phone into his pocket just as his brother appeared with two tall glasses of iced tea.

  There was no way Junior was going to get the better of him with this manners stuff. No way. No how.

  THE BANK WAS CROWDED. She waited in line as patiently as she could, all the while trying to avoid eye contact with Pete Ross in his office. Soon after she’d entered the bank building, the couple he was meeting with left. Through his glass door, she watched him shuffle papers around. Then he looked up and caught sight of her.

  “Shoot,” she moaned.

  The man in front of her turned around and glared. Serena glared right back. And then pasted a pleasant smile on her face the moment she smelled Pete’s overpowering cologne. Aqua Velva.

  “Whatcha doing here, Serena?”

  He always drew out her name, making it sound almost four syllables. She supposed the habit would be a catchy thing if she thought it sounded good on his lips. But it didn’t. Didn’t at all. Perhaps it was his New England–transplant voice. The kind of nasal sound that no amount of enforced twang could fix. He wasn’t Texan, and that was a fact.

  “Just waiting in line. You know. Doing my thing.”

  He leaned a little closer. “You got some time for a cup of coffee?”

  “Oh, gee. Thanks, but I should get going.”

  “Maybe another time, then.”

  “Yes. Definitely.” The line moved. She stepped forward. Now there were just four in front of her. Hopefully, their business would go fast and she could get out of there.

  “Or…we could go to dinner?”

  It took a little doing, but she was able to adopt a regretful expression real fast. “I don’t know. I’m working an awful lot right now.”

  “At the library?”

  “And other places.” Oh, why wouldn’t that darn line move fast? “I’ve taken a part-time job.”

  “What for?”

  As the man in front of her turned around, obviously eavesdropping for all he was worth, Serena felt her cheeks heat. “Bills.”

  He curved a soft hand around her elbow. His expression was earnest. “Why don’t you come into my office and we’ll talk?”

  “I don’t have time—”

  “But I could help. I am a financial analyst, too, you know.”

  She knew he cared. He really did. But she didn’t want anything to do with him. Not in that way. Instinctively, she knew she’d be beholden to him. “Not today,” she said firmly.

  “Hey, Pete?” One of the girls in the back was staring at him, her arms crossing her chest. “You got a client waiting.”

  “Think about it, Serena. Will you?”

  “Oh, yes,” she lied.

  After a reassuring squeeze, he walked away. She breathed a sigh of relief, just as the man in line turned around. For a third time. “You should have gone, little lady. That guy knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business.”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M DOING this. I can’t believe I took pity on you and agreed to help you tonight,” Serena said the moment Jarred entered the library at seven-fifteen. “After the way you cut up the other day, I shouldn’t even have returned your call.”

  “I’m glad you did. I was desperate.”

  “What about?” She looked at him a little more closely. Once she got over his fine features and gorgeous physique, she had to admit that he looked a bit…blue. “Hey…are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He looked at the floor. “It’s nothing of consequence. Now let’s get started. I’ve got things to do.”

  That set her off. Serena figured if she was going to reschedule her girls’ night out with Tracy at the last minute, she ought to at least have gotten a good explanation. “Well, just so you know, I have other things I could be doing, too. Plus, you got here late.”

  “I’m not that late. Not by much.”

  “Anything counts.” Though she knew her voice had taken on a schoolmarm edge, she tapped her toe. “You know, being on time shows you care about a person.”

  With a scowl, Jarred pulled out a fancy silver cell phone that looked as if it cost more than her food budget for the whole month. Flipping it open, he scanned the time. “I’m barely fifteen minutes late.”

  “That’s a big problem.”

  “Being late?”

  “Of course. It shows the other person that you don’t care enough about them. That you only care about yourself.”

  “Hold on. Most girls are never ready on time anyway.” He looked around the library in a vague way. “I figured you’d still be doing whatever librarians do.”

  “I was waiting for you. That’s what I was doing.” Oh, but he annoyed her like no other. Did he really think all she did all day was sit around and wait for him? And work?

  “Whatever. Just add it to the bill.”

  She was tempted. But after pocketing his money last time for lessons never covered, Serena was afraid to accept. She went on the offensive instead. “I should probably tell you that I read online today that most gentlemen wear watches.”

  Jarred sat down on the flimsy plastic orange chair opposite. “Is that right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Recalling the blurb, she recited it from memory. “‘Most well-dressed gentlemen favor a fine timepiece. Since it’s usually their only piece of jewelry, it says a lot about them.’” Serena cleared her throat. “It also makes it easier to keep track of time. And you won’t be constantly pulling that phone out of your jeans.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Sure there is. Whenever I watch you pull that cell phone out, I’m sure you’re checking texts or missed calls. And that won’t do.”

  His lips twitched. “It won’t?”

  “No, it won’t. I’m right about this, Jarred. I know it.”

  For a moment, she was sure he was going to argue. Serena wouldn’t have been surprised—pointing out the fact that he needed a timepiece did sound a little nitpicky, even to her ears. “Actually, I was thinking maybe I did need to get me one of those Submariners.”

  “A what?”

  “One of those Rolexes that you can take deep-sea diving,” he casually explained. “They’re cool.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how in the heck he planned to go scuba diving in north Texas, but decided to use a little of the positive reinforcement she’d read about, too. “That’s a real fine idea.”

  Jarred looked pleased.

  “Let’s move on. Cell phones and watches weren’t on the agenda.”

  “What is?”

  “Errands. When I started thinking ab
out the kinds of things you might be doing with Veronica, I realized it might be beneficial to think about the proper way to behave when y’all are out running errands.”

  He blinked before slipping into a very sexy smile. “I don’t think she’s going to want me for errands, Serena.”

  “But—” She stopped herself just in time. Unbidden images of Jarred removing that too-big belt buckle appeared and no matter how hard she tried to dispel the picture, it was firmly entrenched in her head. “I thought you said you weren’t aiming to sleep with her.”

  “I said I wasn’t going to gigolo myself,” he slyly corrected. “However, taking her to bed when the time is right is definitely not going to be a problem.”

  Serena imagined it wouldn’t. Once again that belt buckle shined in her head, making her think of Jarred wearing a whole lot less than what he had on at the moment.

  She cleared her throat. “Um. However…just in case she’s not ready for bed right away, you need some help.” She gave him a sharp glare. “That’s what you’re paying me for, right?”

  “Right. I need your help for when we’re out and about in town. I won’t need any tips for when Veronica and I are alone. I promise, no one’s ever complained about my behavior in the bedroom.”

  “No, I imagine not.” Mouth dry, she glanced up at the clock on the wall—7:25. They’d just spent the past ten interminable minutes discussing cell phones and his expertise in bed.

  She was getting mighty uncomfortable and terribly jealous, and he’d gotten nowhere closer to being a gentleman, and now she was reduced to wondering just how skilled he was in the bedroom.

  Well, there was only one remedy for that—and it was to keep things purely professional. “Stand up, let’s get started.”

  He stood and followed her to a round table with four items on it. An umbrella, a shopping bag with five books, a linen handkerchief and a lady’s coat. “What’s all this for?”

  “I’m going to teach you what to do with all of it.”

  He picked up the handkerchief and promptly shook it open. “I already know how to blow my nose.”

  “Emily Post says every gentleman needs to carry a handkerchief.”