Free Trouble in Paradise by Robin Lee Hatcher

sweater and headed for the door, opening it as Ty reached the deck.
    He had traded his faded work denims for a pairof slim-cut black jeans. His snakeskin boots, peeking from beneath his pant legs, were polished to a high sheen. His Western shirt was similar to the ones he’d worn all week, but this one was newer, its colors—white, red and black—still bright. And he was obviously wearing a “dress Stetson,” a hat kept for Sundays and other special occasions.
    Pure cowboy, she thought as she smiled at him.
    “Evenin’, ma’am.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I thought we’d agreed to forgo that ma’am stuff. It makes me feel old.”
    “Right you are. Evenin’, Shayla.”
    She stepped onto the deck, closing the door behind her. Ty came forward, took the sweater from her hand, and draped it over her shoulders.
    “You look prettier’n a heifer in clover.”
    “Do you always talk like that?”
    “Like what?”
    “Never mind.” She laughed softly.
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, then took hold of his proffered arm and allowed him to escort her down the steps and out to his Jeep.
    “I asked Ian to ride with us,” he said as he opened the passenger door, “but he said he’d take his own truck.”
    Her heart skipped a beat. “Who is he bringing with him?”
    “You mean as a date?” He laughed. “Nobody. He hasn’t had a girlfriend for quite a spell. Not that there aren’t some who’d give their eyeteeth for achance with him. But Ian’s been feeling a bit wary ever since Sally Pruitt turned out to be a gold digger.”
    “How long ago was that?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. More than a year. People are still talkin’ about it like it was yesterday. Lucky for Ian, she moved up to Spokane not long after he quit seeing her. Had to make it easier for him, her being gone.” He closed the door, then strode around to the driver’s side, got in and started the engine.
    “Was he in love with her?”
    “Naw. Don’t think so.” He gave her a quick glance as he put the car in gear. “You buckled up?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then let’s get a move on.”
    They were silent as the Jeep bumped and bounced its way down the dusty road toward the highway.
    Shayla couldn’t help looking out the window toward the big house at Paradise Ranch, wondering if Ian was there or if he’d left for the Grange Hall already.
     
     
    Ian had been watching the entrance for fifteen minutes. He’d managed to carry on a reasonably intelligent conversation with Ed Clark and the Barnetts without looking too distracted. At least he thought he’d carried it off.
    He felt a jolt of relief when Shayla finally walked through the door with Ty, glad to see they’d arrived safely. Ty’s twenty-year-old Jeep wasn’t the most reliable vehicle in the valley.
    Or maybe it wasn’t relief he felt when he sawthem together. Maybe it was something more akin to jealousy.
    “Look, Roger,” Geneve Barnett said to her husband. “There’s Miss Vincent. Thank goodness someone invited her. It was thoughtless of me not to do so on Sunday. We must go welcome her.”
    I should have asked her to come with me, Ian thought as he followed the Barnetts with his gaze. Why didn’t I? Why’d I let Ty beat me to it?
    He turned toward Ed. “Think I’ll get me something cool to drink,” he said, then walked toward the back of the hall, far away from the front door, Shayla and Ty.
    For the next half hour, he succeeded in keeping his mind off the couple by involving himself in a conversation with several friends and neighbors. First they talked about the upcoming school board election. Then the topic turned to the price of beef, and from there it drifted to yesterday’s storm.
    The storm.
    Lightning and thunder.
    Shayla, frightened and teary-eyed, cowering in a chair in the great room.
    Shayla, nestled in his arms, feeling as if she belonged there.
    He wished he could hold her again.
     
     
    Shayla was having a wonderful time.