through to get like this? I’ve had hair ripped out, Burke. From everywhere! I’ve been plucked, waxed, soaked, painted, teased, dried and bleached. I’m not doing it in reverse!
He waved his hand, dismissing her agony with a wiggle of his blunt fingers. “You aren’t a redhead, CB.”
“Yes, I am.” Sorta . “The hair stays.” She crossed her arms and set her feet apart so he’d know she meant business.
“The only way I’m going to help you is if you do things my way. This isn’t my way. This is—” His gaze spanned her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, intense enough to start a weird tingly feeling where ever it touched. “I don’t know that the hell that is but it’s wrong.”
The tingly feeling died. She rolled her eyes. The control freak and his issues. “I’m not dyeing it back. I can’t anyway. It’ll fry up and frizz or something if I do it too soon. Work with the red.”
He made a noise she likened to growling. Half-grunt, half-grumble, all Burke. “Why are you always making everything difficult?”
Why does he always ask that? “I’m not betting cars, am I? You’re the one who put us both on the line.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He looked like a bear with a sore paw, walking his living room as if it were a cage. “Stop it, you’re standing like a man.”
Cass dropped her arms in shock. Okay, it’s true she’d never seen any of the ladies in town stand as if they were preparing to imitate the rock of Gibraltar. None of them argued with Burke Halifax on a regular basis, either. Come to think of it, Burke was the reason she stood like this. He was the one who taught her all those boxing techniques. In fact, if it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be in this mess at all!
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he snapped.
“Because I’m wondering if you’re the best person to help me.” Alice might be a better bet. She oozed class and poise. But she had a daughter and a man eating up all her time. Kids Cass couldn’t complain about. They were innocent and genuinely needed their mothers, but men? They devoured time like they did steaks—whole and often. No, she couldn’t ask Alice to clear her schedule for two weeks at the drop of a hat.
Burke’s eyes widened, relief slowing his feet and lifting the Cro-Magnon scowl. “Really?”
May Belle had already done all she could, Cass admitted while sneaking a scratch to her cheek. Lola’s practices tended to leave one in pain. Hayne, usually so helpful when a girl needed a hand, wouldn’t touch this project to save his life. If she could do it alone—could hope to find and shape some indefinable, untouchable thing inside herself—she would. But she couldn’t. Galling or not, she needed help. Which left Burke. But she wasn’t going to get much done until he admitted she would actually need to change something about herself if they were going to keep her car or her dignity.
If she didn’t know him from his boots to his cowlick, that might be a daunting prospect.
She nodded, still pretending she had other options. “You’re lousy at this.”
Nothing got to Burke like implied failure. “Lousy?”
“Rotten lousy,” she confirmed, trampling his need to be the best at everything he did. “You have no intention to make a girl out of me, Burke. You’ve spent most of your life making a boy out of me. My Dad and Hayne, I can understand; it was easier for them if I wasn’t expecting frills and lace. But you seem to like me the way I’ve been.”
Confusion filled his eyes. Poor guy. He truly didn’t get it. “Of course I did. You’re fine that way.”
“The whole point of this stupid bet is to be completely different than I was. Until you get your head out of your ass and see that, you’re no good to me.” Shrugging as if it didn’t matter—and it really, really did—she walked past him to the front door. She plucked his keys out of the crystal dish in the bookcase
Grace Slick, Andrea Cagan