Free The Trouble With Lacy Brown by Debra Clopton

I’ve been run over by a pink piece of junk. Had myself painted pink from head to toe by that little filly. Norma Sue—” he paused, shook his head “to be honest—I don’t want to think about what comes next.”
     
    Trying to relax, Lacy drove toward Clint’s ranch. However, she was tired and edgy. She seldom had a problem with energy, hyperactivity being a flaw she’d faced all her life. But tonight her sunburn stung and she felt physically drained. Not to mention that she was disappointed in herself. She had once again not shown a very Christian manner toward Clint Matlock.
    “Sheri,” she said loudly, talking over the wind whipping around them in the open convertible, “I hate to admit it, but I guess I stayed out in the sun too long.”
    “Uh-huh. You just now figured that out? Look at you. Our handsome neighbor probably really did save you from heatstroke.”
    Lacy frowned. She didn’t like feeling foolish, but the worst was owing more thanks to Clint Matlock. The bullheaded ox—she could just see his smirk. There you go again.
    The man was too domineering for his own good. Too sure of himself. Each time he came near, she felt like she’d just completed a twenty-mile race. Dear Lord, I know part of the reason I’m reacting toward Clint this way is because I don’t want to feel this attraction. So help me to ignore the physical feelings I’m having so that he might see You in me and not me in me.
    Her quick prayer done, she turned into the driveway of Norma Sue’s place and shifted the Caddy into Park. Instantly she knew God had a funny sense of humor because Clint came striding up to the car the minute she turned off the ignition.
    “How’s the Caddy?” he asked, opening her door.
    “Smart move,” Sheri said, striding past him toward the porch. “Asking about that car is the way to her heart. That rattletrap has more dimples than my thighs, but Lacy loves it.”
    Lacy stepped from the car, reminding herself that she had a mission to complete and Clint was not a distraction she needed. “What? No name-calling?”
    He shrugged, tipping his hat back a tad with his thumb in that now-familiar way of his. Those disturbing eyes settled on her.
    “To each his own,” he said dryly. “I figure you also have a picture of Elvis hanging in a prominent place on your wall.”
    “Doesn’t everyone?” she teased, moving toward the porch, intent on getting away.
    Clint’s chuckle behind her was snuffed out by a burst of laughter from inside the house up ahead. Against her better judgment, Lacy slowed her pace on the pebbled path.
    The short path snaked around a huge oak tree flanked by massive rosebushes. She paused beside the oak’s twisted trunk. Clint paused beside her, and over the fragrant aroma of roses she caught the fresh, clean scent of soap. A clean soap smell had always been Lacy’s favorite.
    “So, why the infatuation for Elvis?”
    Elvis? Who was Elvis? “It’s not really,” she said, trying to ignore Clint’s nearness and the odd fact that he seemed to want to talk to her after he’d stormed out of her salon like she’d grown horns.
    “I—I like his music,” she stammered, glancing to the rose beside her, amazed at her trepidation. “He made wonderful music, but his life was a shambles.” Looking up, she lifted an eyebrow at Clint. “I’ve always felt sorry for him. I tend to want to fix…things.”
    “So, you like to fix people?” He studied her intently.
    Lacy lifted a shoulder and smiled. “It’s a weakness I have.”
    “So you came to Mule Hollow to fix things? I hope you learned your lesson out there today. Any more stunts like that one this afternoon, and you’ll be the one needing to be fixed.”
    So much for feeling all warm and fuzzy about the man. Lacy straightened her shoulders and met the infuriating man’s gaze straight on. “I thank you very much for having your men finish painting for me this afternoon. However, I did fine before they got there, and I