AdonisinTexas (13 page)

Coaxing her back into place with the hand on her shoulder,
he said, “It’s not always like this, Ginger.”

“Are you telling me there were times you didn’t want to stay
the night after making love to a woman?”

“There were only two other women, so don’t get hooked on any
notions. And, yes, I was perfectly happy to leave afterward—they didn’t mind. I
wasn’t a schmuck. Both women were friends and I’d never intended anything
permanent with either one and vice versa. It was more, you know, scratching an
itch. Nothing like this.”

“Hmm.”

He couldn’t tell if she bristled over that admission or was
just giving it consideration.

Finally, she said, “I understand there’s physical attraction
that doesn’t have anything to do with love or intimacy. But when you’re
married…I mean, isn’t this one of the biggest joys of that kind of union? Why
would you want separate bedrooms?”

“Well, sweetheart,
I
don’t. But not every
relationship is the same. And whatever made my aunt suddenly feel like sex with
her husband was a sin…I don’t know anything about it.”

“Goodness,” she said. “This all adds a new dimension to
Lydia I’d never known existed. Yes, I imagined she was frigid in the bedroom,
but come on. And the fact she’d wanted children so badly. I can’t say how I
feel about that. On the one hand, it’s sad to hear it didn’t work out for them.
On the other hand, even you said living in that house was difficult.”

“Like I mentioned, I’m not one to cast stones, so all I can
tell you is what I’ve witnessed. The way they treat each other is up to them
and no one else. You and I, however… Well, let’s just say I’d be damn glad to
share a bed with you every night, darlin’.”

She dropped feather-light kisses on his chest as she
murmured, “Hallelujah and praise the Lord.”

He chuckled.

Now, if only they could reconcile their issues
outside
the bedroom, they just might be onto something of a more permanent nature.

Chapter Seven

Ginger was rearranging a display in front of the window when
she caught a glimpse of Liza out of the corner of her eye. Her friend pushed a
cart down the sidewalk. Nestled in a box on the top shelf was an enormous
floral arrangement. With a little laugh over Liza’s hellacious delivery, Ginger
went back to her display.

Seconds later, the silver bell rang and Liza propped open
the door, then wheeled in the cart.

“Holy moly,” Ginger said as she eyed the flowers more
closely. “Is there a wedding tonight I didn’t hear about?”

Liza wiped a bead of perspiration from her hairline. “Is
there ever a wedding—or anything else in this town—someone hasn’t heard about?”

“Well, whatever the occasion, Jess has certainly outdone
herself.” Ginger whistled under her breath. “Guess she wanted me to see it.”

“Guess again,” Liza said as she pulled her cart farther into
the shop. “Help me with this, will you?” she asked as she grasped one side of
the enormous vase.

With a lifted eyebrow, Ginger said, “You’re gonna let me
display it today? This is going to look sensational in my window.”

“They’re no loaner, my friend.” The two women hoisted up the
heavy arrangement and placed it atop a low dresser sitting off to the side near
the front of the store, highly visible from the street. Liza handed over a
small envelope and added, “I don’t need to tell you who this is from.”

“Seriously?” Ginger asked as her gaze shifted from the
astounding bouquet to the card she held in her hand. “These are for me?”

With a wicked look on her face, Liza said, “All I can say
is, you must be a hellcat in the sack, girlfriend. Jess even said she’d never
had
carte blanche
on an order of this magnitude. Ryan didn’t know your
favorite flower, so he basically ordered one of everything. And then some. We
even had to call in a special delivery from Jess’ grower to complete the damn
thing.”

The arrangement was colorful and vibrant and absolutely
stunning. Emotion washed over Ginger, making her heart beat a bit faster.
“Jesus,” she said. “All of this is for me.”

Liza gave her a quick hug and said, “Oh sweetie, you are so
worth it. Regardless of what naughty little things you did to that man in bed.”

Ginger’s cheeks flushed, and not just from the remembrance
of her past couple of steamy nights with Ryan.

“He does make me crazy with desire,” she admitted. With a
hand over her heart, she confessed, “I swear, I could hole up in a bedroom with
him for a week and not give a thought as to what’s happening on the other side
of the door.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to
climb out of Jack’s bed.” She winked, then added, “Nothing wrong with spending
a Saturday morning under the covers.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to it.” She flipped the
envelope over and was about to open it when the grandfather clock chimed.
Ginger’s gaze snapped to its elegant, gilt face and she groaned. “Oh good
grief. I have a hair appointment with Lydia. I’ve thought all day about
cancelling it, but, of course, she frowns upon that.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Liza deadpanned. “Everyone in town knows
I’ve resorted to doing my own hair since moving here. And not always
successfully.”

“You look fine. You’ve gotten the hang of those highlights.
If word gets out about these flowers,” Ginger said, “I might be headed for a bottle
job myself.”

Liza gave her a sympathetic look. “I did have to push that
cart past her window.”

Ginger cringed. “Cross your fingers she wasn’t up front
where she’d see them.”

“Just keep an eye on what styling tool she reaches for.
Don’t let her pull a Britney Spears on you by using a razor instead of shears.”

“Oh my God,
why
did you have to say that?” Dread
ribboned through her. She dropped the unopened envelope on the dresser and
rushed over to her desk to retrieve her purse and the keys to the boutique. “To
top it off, I’m late.”

Liza preceded her to the door. “I don’t envy you the
afternoon you’re going to have. But keep your chin up and don’t let her pull a
fast one on you.”

Shaking her head, Ginger mumbled, “I just had to go and fall
for her nephew, didn’t I?”

She locked the door and walked with Liza to the salon.

“Hang in there,” her friend said with a supportive hug
before she returned to the flower shop.

Sucking in a deep breath and shoring up her defenses, a very
hesitant Ginger Monroe stepped into the lion’s den.

“Well, there you are,” Lydia said as she stowed a broom
behind the tall shelving unit that displayed hair products on sale. “I was
starting to wonder if you were going to leave my chair empty this afternoon.”

“Of course not,” Ginger said. “Sorry I’m late. I had
some…business to take care of.”

“Mm-hmm. I saw the flowers.”

Lydia turned away and Ginger followed her over to the
shampoo station.

Handing over a button-up smock in daisy yellow, Lydia
continued. “I suspected that arrangement was for you. You don’t see such an
ostentatious presentation on our streets every day. My nephew has clearly
developed extravagant taste.”

Ginger had a feeling Lydia wasn’t only referring to the
bouquet. She said, “I don’t believe he has extravagant taste. In fact, he’s
very down to earth. I just think he likes to make a statement.”

She had to fight back the smile that tickled her lips over
the beautiful flowers and the mere thought of Ryan. Settling into an
ultra-cushy chair in front of one of the sinks, she let Lydia gather up her
hair so Ginger could rest her bare neck in the dip in the porcelain. Lydia
dropped the mass of curls in the sink and began to rinse and wash. Neither
spoke as Lydia finished with the conditioner and rinsed again. She wrapped a towel
around Ginger’s head and they moved to Lydia’s chair in front of a large
mirror, framed with mahogany.

Ginger noted there were no other customers in the salon,
which was odd. Lydia had part-time stylists who worked the two additional
stations, but the woman could also juggle three or four customers at a time all
by herself, she was so handy with her combs, scissors and hair color. And she
knew how to schedule her clients so she could attend to them in various stages
of cutting, highlighting and drying.

So Ginger found it curious they were alone in the shop. And
it unnerved her—for good reason.

Lydia jumped right in with a chastising, “I find it
difficult to believe the two of you could be so serious about each other so
quickly. What on earth could you possibly have in common with Ryan?”

Ginger considered this a moment as Lydia towel-dried her
hair and then gently combed the long tresses. Finally, she said, “We have
history and shared memories, for one thing. We did grow up together and were
very good friends in high school.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but you don’t forget those times and they create a
bond. Plus,” Ginger added—not that it was any of Lydia’s business, but she
wanted to set the record straight where she and Ryan were concerned, “we both
lost our parents at a young age. We can empathize with each other. Ryan even
knows how difficult it is for me to be around guns because of my mother’s death
and—”

Her gaze met Lydia’s in the mirror as a peculiar—and highly
distressing—thought occurred to her.

The dread she’d felt earlier returned. “Aren’t I just the
biggest hypocrite in Wilder?” she muttered to herself.

Lydia’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” she
asked as she began to snip with the scissors.

Ginger’s heart sank right along with her spirits. Being
completely honest with Lydia, she said, “I’m doing to Ryan what you do to me.”

With a frown, Lydia said, “I’m sure I don’t know what that
means.”

“It means, I’m pushing my own convictions onto someone when
they’re not doing anything wrong. I don’t want Ryan’s gun in my house. I don’t
want him carrying it, either. Even though it’s part of his job and could save
his life. I don’t like it and I’m forcing him to follow my personal opinion and
belief, despite the fact he could end up in a dangerous situation without the
proper weapon because
I
don’t like it.”

Lydia’s frown disappeared and a more thoughtful, quizzical
look crossed her face as she continued to trim Ginger’s hair. “Explain that a
little further, will you?”

“It’s really quite simple. You don’t like my lingerie
because it doesn’t suit your taste and because you have a preconceived notion
about it. So you harass me on a regular basis about putting my nightgowns on
the street, when I’m just trying to entice customers so I stay in business.
Regardless of your personal preference, Lydia, there are plenty of women in
Wilder who like satin nighties and lacy panties and bras.”

“Well, they’re just so inappropriate.”

“How would you know?” Ginger suddenly challenged. “You never
even
look
at them. You just assume everything’s indecent and sinful, and
I assure you, that is not the case.”

The other woman was tight-lipped as she worked on Ginger’s
hair. When she was done, she pulled out the blow dryer, keeping the
conversation from resuming. She turned Ginger’s chair away from the mirror to
dry the front and then she flipped the switch on the device and the room was
suddenly cast into an uncomfortable silence again.

Lydia lifted her chin, then swiveled the chair around for
Ginger to get a good look at her new ’do.

She gasped. “We didn’t talk about this,” she said as she
stared at her reflection, shock on her face. “You always give me the same
trim.”

“Yes, well, you had some split ends I needed to take care
of.”

Ginger stared at her shorter locks, which sat on her
shoulders. The strands were fluffy and healthy looking and the overall effect
was actually quite stunning.

“Well?” Lydia demanded. “What do you think?”

Ginger was speechless for a few seconds. She’d never
considered asking Lydia to take five or six inches off her hair—and instantly
regretted not having her do it sooner. All that hair had been weighty, and
though she’d always had bouncy curls, the thick mass had felt heavy and
sometimes oppressive, particularly during the summer months with all the heat
and humidity in the air.

Surprised she had to admit it, she told Lydia, “I love it.”

“Are you sure? Because if not, there’s no charge.”

Emotion swelled in Ginger’s throat. She thought of what Ryan
had said about Lydia wanting children, and that softened Ginger’s heart. She
also thought of her own shortcomings, one of which she’d shared with Lydia this
afternoon. There had to be some sort of common ground for them, if for no other
reason than for Ryan’s sake.

Tears prickled the backs of her eyes as she said, “Of course
I’ll pay you. And I really do love the cut. It’s perfect. I never realized I
should have shorter hair. It looks fantastic, Lydia.”

“I’m glad you like it. I think it brightens your face, not
that you’ve needed much help with that since my nephew returned.”

Ginger stood and slipped off the smock. Handing it over, she
said, “I know you don’t approve of us. But, Lydia, do you really doubt Ryan’s
judgment? And for that matter, how can you dislike someone simply because they
sell lingerie? I’m actually a very nice person—ask anyone. I volunteer at the
animal shelter, I attend church every Sunday before I open the boutique and I’m
always willing to lend a helping hand to someone in need.”

With a sigh, Lydia said, “I don’t dislike you, Ginger. I
dislike what you display on the sidewalks and in your store.”

“You’ve never even been
in
my store, Lydia,” she said
in a more forceful tone. “Other than when you burned down the first one.”

“That was an accident,” Lydia told her in a remorseful tone.
“And I am so sorry, Ginger. But as the reverend’s wife, I honestly cannot
condone your wares.”

“There’s just no way you’re going to see reason in this
situation, is there?” She pulled out cash from her wallet and set it on the
countertop at Lydia’s station. “Well, I won’t be as stubborn as you, Lydia.
Because it’s just not worth it.”

She turned sharply and marched out of the salon. As she
stalked down the sidewalk to her store, she caught a glimpse of Ryan, Jack and
George in front of the diner. Here was her chance to tell him she’d changed her
stance on him carrying a gun.

How foolish she’d been to hinder him. And how sweet he’d
been to try to set her mind at ease by not toting a gun in her presence. She
owed him big time.

Ginger rushed over and threw her arms around him. “Those
flowers are insane!” she gushed.

He lifted her off the ground and gave her a rigid squeeze
that lasted a bit longer than she’d anticipated, which brought on an instant
bought of panic.

When he released her, she demanded, “What’s wrong?”

Ryan wore a grave expression. He said, “I was just telling
Jack and George that Walton Moore’s pawn shop was robbed while he was out to
lunch. The surveillance cameras were on, thankfully, and we ID’d our two
thieves.”

Ginger’s stomach plummeted. “No,” she said on a sharp
breath. “That means they’re still here, terrorizing the town.”

“Means more than that,” George chimed in. “Ryan told us they
stole cash, some jewelry and a .357 magnum.”

“Now they’re armed,” Jack stated the obvious.

She staggered backward and wrapped her arms around her
waist, because now her stomach coiled so tight, it hurt.

Ryan studied her closely, gauging her reaction to the news.
He used a calm tone on her as he said, “Don’t get all worked up, sweetheart.
The sheriff and Dan Baker are sweeping the area, and Miller and I are going to
join them as they broaden the search. We’ll find these guys.”

“That’s what worries me,” she mumbled, her voice cracking.