Marrying Money

“Not me, either,” Doris seconded. “Nobody sets anything up for a woman like Bailey. Besides, look around you. There are plenty of fish in this proverbial sea. Just go ask somebody to dance.”

“I’m out of the mood,” Tanner said, rising from his seat. “I think I’ll go home, too.”

Doris smiled. “You can’t go home. You drove us, remember?”

He sighed. Now he knew for sure his parents hadn’t set him up with Bailey. If they had, they wouldn’t have ridden with him in his car. They would have given him access to drive Bailey home. Or to follow her when she ran, since his mother probably knew Bailey would leave early because of work. He hadn’t been set up. His parents didn’t want him married to Bailey Stephenson. They simply wanted him married.

Tanner’s mother waved her hand in the direction of the crowd. “Go ask somebody to dance. Your good mood will come back.”

Tanner didn’t bother to argue that he hadn’t been in a good mood about this dinner dance until he met Bailey. He didn’t want to mention it to his parents, because then he would have to explain it to himself. And if he started explaining it to himself he would have to use words like intrigued, fascinated, maybe even smitten. Which was ridiculous. He’d hardly said two words to the woman. He couldn’t be interested in someone he didn’t know beyond eye color and occupation. Besides, she obviously didn’t want to have anything to do with him. He couldn’t be smitten with someone who didn’t even like him. It wasn’t normal.

It was for that very reason that Tanner rousted himself from his seat and did ask a few of the eligible women to dance. But though lovely, intelligent and fun, none of them seemed to intrigue him the way Bailey had. He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him, but something did. And it was something more than the fact that she was a challenge. She fit in his arms. She smelled wonderful. And he saw those darned violet eyes of hers the minute he closed his eyes that night in bed.

In church the next morning, Tanner decided he was just tired, and overwhelmed from selling his business on the spur of the moment and drastically changing his life. There would be plenty of women in Florida, maybe even a woman who knew more about operating a charter boat business than he did. He didn’t need Bailey Stephenson. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted Bailey Stephenson. Half of what he thought he felt might have been his imagination. He was a happy guy with a great life and a future most people would fight for. He had everything he wanted and needed.

Unfortunately, just as he got himself comfortable with that thought, Mayor Thorpe and his wife Emmalee marched down the center aisle with their three perfectly behaved, well-dressed children. Tanner’s heart sank. The family, the life Emmalee had now was exactly what they’d envisioned having together. Except if she had stayed married to Tanner, Emma would have had a bigger house and more security. Yet, she’d dumped him. Tanner wasn’t such a simpleton that he thought money meant more than love, but she had loved him. He had loved her. They’d been crazy about each other. But here she was, walking down the center aisle of the church with another man’s children.

Even after ten years it still hurt. Not that he wasn’t over her. He was. He knew that the man he’d become couldn’t live the life she had here in Wilmore. He needed more. He needed different things. And he usually got them, because, when the need arose, he could be ruthless.

Single-minded, self-centered and ruthless.

Emmalee was, in fact, the person who had told him that. She had told him to move on because his big dreams had changed him and he didn’t fit in this town anymore. She was tired of pretending that he was great and wonderful to grace them with his presence a few times a month, faking that he belonged here when he didn’t. He belonged anywhere but quiet, mellow Wilmore. She was even the one who suggested that he try living somewhere like New York where aggressiveness was an art, not a transgression.

So he did move and he discovered she was right. He did fit better in a bigger city. But just because she had hit the nail on the head, that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt like hell to lose his wife and his hometown all in one quick swoop.

Which was exactly why he knew he had to stay away from Bailey Stephenson and every other woman in this town. He didn’t belong here. Even a woman who had adored him had known it and sent him packing. He was only here now to supervise the repair of the flood damage to his parents’ property, and to say goodbye to some old friends before he moved a thousand miles away, because when the month was out, he was off to Florida. And he wasn’t coming back. Not even for sporadic visits. The plan was that his parents would visit him, not vice versa. He would never return to West Virginia. So there was no sense making any more ties.

He felt comfortable with that assessment and even took a minute to objectively appreciate how adorable Emmalee’s kids were and to recognize that Artie Thorpe was definitely more suited to being Emma’s husband than Tanner had been. And he happily realized he could probably hold a pleasant conversation with them after the service.

And then Bailey walked in.

Unlike the other women who still sported sagging upsweeps from the night before, Bailey’s blond hair hung straight and silky to the middle of her back. Wearing a simple floral sheath that accented her curves and showed off her long, shapely legs, Bailey Stephenson was everything he remembered from the night before, and every feeling, every sensation he had while dancing with her came flooding back.

Tanner completely forgot about Artie and Emma Thorpe. He forgot he didn’t belong in this town. He forgot that half the congregation was undoubtedly watching him. All he could do was stare at Bailey and remember the fluttering in his stomach when he looked at her, when he danced with her.

She turned to walk into the pew she had chosen and caught sight of Tanner and his parents. Tanner’s mother gave Bailey the subtle, fingers-only wave women used for a greeting when they were trying to be discreet, and Bailey returned the smile and the wave, her gaze straying to Tanner.

He almost sighed with relief, because from the look in her eyes it was obvious she found him attractive, too. But when it appeared hard for her to pull her gaze away from his, the fluttering in his stomach flared again. By the time she sat down and the service started, Tanner not only forgot all about the pain of the past, he had shifted back into his normal way of looking at things. His rule of thumb was to make the best of the life he had, not pine for the one he’d lost. And right now he had a sixth sense that fate was handing him the chance to spend some time with an absolutely stunning, unpretentious woman. He almost grinned. Life was incredibly good to him.

He actually found himself timing the sermon with growing irritation. Reverend Daniels seemed to be in a particularly talkative mood. With every five-minute segment that ticked off on Tanner’s watch, his squirming grew more evident. But because Bailey’s squirming grew more evident, too, he was absolutely positive they would literally run into each other’s arms at the end of the service. However, when the good pastor finally let them go, Bailey exploded from the church and scrambled to her car…not to him.

Standing on the church steps, too far away to even hope to catch her, Tanner had to forcefully stop himself from cursing out loud.

“Hey, Tanner.”

Tanner turned to see Artie and Emma and three little blond munchkins huddled around them, looking as if they were velcroed to their parents’ knees. With thoughts of Bailey still clouding his brain, he automatically smiled his public-relations smile and extended his hand to Artie. “Hi, Artie,” he said, shaking his hand. “Emma,” he added, nodding to his ex-wife. “Who are these guys?”

“I’m Sam,” the first child said, then he sniffed.

“Oh, darn,” Emma said, sounding exasperated. “We forgot his allergy medicine this morning.”

Sam sniffed more loudly. “That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, Samuel Eugene Thorpe,” Emma said. A tall beauty, with red hair and porcelain skin, Emma made a pretty picture as a mother. “You might not like to take those pills, but you need them!” She faced Tanner again. “I’m sorry, Tanner, but we’ve got to go.”

“Hey, never let it be said that I stood in the way of proper child care.”

“How long are you in town?” she asked, studying him cautiously.

Tanner’s gaze strolled in the direction Bailey’s SUV had taken and then he pulled it back to his ex-wife. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Emma said carefully, glancing at her husband who was talking to Dave Banister, one of the town’s two councilmen. “I think you and I need to talk. There’s some stuff—”

“After ten years,” Tanner interrupted. “I doubt it, Emma.”

He hadn’t intended to be so cool or so cruel, but those darned memories crept up on him when he didn’t want them to. Ten years ago she had her say and she had succinctly told him what a terrible husband he was. And he agreed. As a husband, he was a washout. But right now he didn’t need to be reminded that the prettiest girl from his high school class had dumped him. Especially not when the pretty beautician who currently intrigued him—the woman he instinctively knew was the one he was supposed to be spending time with—wouldn’t give him that time, probably because she’d heard the rumors about his divorce. Again this confirmed what Emma had said the day she asked him to leave: in New York, he could do absolutely anything he wanted. In West Virginia his past haunted him. After he got to Florida, he would send Emma flowers with an apology to make up for his rudeness, but right now he just wanted to go home.

Luckily, his parents were starving and had done a lot of socializing last night so they’d all headed back to the house. Feeling spurned by Bailey without a real chance to explain himself or his intentions, Tanner wasn’t surprised that he devised a plan to see her while his mother was putting the finishing touches on lunch. And it also didn’t surprise him when he left the house with a mumbled apology before the food was served. Because he really wasn’t hungry. He felt like a man with a mission. Not that he was going to force Bailey to go out with him or even to pay attention to him. He had never had to use manipulation or coercion with a woman. And he was sure that, given an opportunity to see that he wasn’t a bad guy—he was just a sort of transient guy—Bailey wouldn’t have to be forced, either.

After rushing to her apartment to change into jeans and a T-shirt, and racing to her parents’ house to have a quick lunch with her family, Bailey hurried to her shop. But when she arrived it wasn’t to discover a line of impatient, flat-haired women awaiting her. Bailey only found Tanner McConnell on the top step leading to her salon door. He was handsome enough that even dressed in simple jeans and a plain white polo shirt, with his short sandy-brown hair ruffled by the June breeze and his green eyes clear and direct, watching her every move as she exited her SUV, the man could stop women’s hearts. But not hers. She had already had this conversation with herself.

She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I want you to comb out my up-do.”

He said it so sincerely that Bailey giggled. “You don’t have an up-do. In fact, you could never get an up-do. Your hair is too short.”

“You want to restyle it?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her head. “No. It’s fine the way it is…great actually.”

He smiled. “Really? You like it? I mean, that’s your professional opinion?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Whoever styled your hair knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Roberto will be relieved I’m sure.”

“Good. Go call him now to tell him, because I have work to do.”

“You’re blowing me off again.”

Fumbling with her keys, she managed the dual purpose of avoiding his eyes and unlocking her shop. “No, I’m not.”

“Good, then trim my hair. Leave the style just like Roberto has it, but take off that annoying fraction of an inch or so that keeps getting in my way.”

Leading him into the spotlessly clean shop, she said, “You’re not serious.”

“Is this a hair salon?” he asked, looking around at the four black stylists chairs, low-bowled chrome sinks and white-hooded dryers.