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The corners of his mouth curved up further. “Well, good.” He dropped his hand and stepped back.
Frannie was certain she’d never met him before, yet something about him seemed strangely familiar. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I’m sure I would have remembered.”
Frannie gave a wry grin. “Not necessarily. I don’t always make such a memorable first impression.”
The man laughed, and a fresh tug of attraction pulled at Frannie’s chest. Did he look at every woman that way, as if he found her attractive and fascinating? He no doubt did. Most women probably just weren’t as susceptible to it as she was. It was probably some kind of subliminal body-language come-on that she ought to know better than to fall for, but she knew no such thing. Whatever he was doing, it was working. Oh, yes, it was definitely working.
She tried to pull her thoughts out of the fog and search her mind for a reason the man looked so familiar. Maybe he was a movie star or a TV actor.
Maybe, she thought as she watched him circle back around the front desk, he was just the man of her dreams. Aunt Celeste believed that dreams were gateways to the soul, that they held clues to both the past and the future.
What on earth was the matter with her? There was no way a man such as this was going to be a part of her future. She was still staring, she realized abruptly.
She pulled her eyes away and tugged at the bottom of her sweater again. “Thanks for the help. Sorry about the klutz attack.”
“I’m sorry we startled you.”
Frannie was relieved to hear Summer’s high heels click on the hardwood floor as she entered the foyer. “Gavin, is that you?” Summer appeared in the doorway, her arms high, her hands behind her neck as she fastened what Frannie recognized as Jasmine’s new necklace.
Summer stopped in her tracks, immediately dropping her arms. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a smile. “I was expecting my husband.” She stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “Welcome to the Big Sky Bed & Breakfast. I’m Summer Nighthawk.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” The tall handsome man shook her hand. “I’m Austin Parker, and this here’s Tommy Deshaw.”
Summer shook hands with both men, then cast a quizzical look at the younger one. “Austin Parker—the race car driver?”
The man smiled sheepishly. “Afraid so.”
“My husband is one of your biggest fans.” Summer’s smile widened. “We’d heard you’d bought some land around here.”
“Yes, ma’am. The old Givens ranch.”
“That place has a huge house. Do you have a large family?”
“No, ma’am. I’m not married.”
“No?” Summer gestured to Frannie. “Well, neither is Frannie here.”
Frannie longed to crawl under the front desk.
“I take it you two have met?” Summer continued.
“Yes, ma’am. But we hadn’t quite gotten around to introductions.” He treated Frannie to a blinding smile.
Frannie had no choice but to reach out her hand. “F—Frannie Hannon.” Good grief, she could barely say her own name! It was a good thing she’d managed to spit it out before he touched her, because when his large, warm hand closed around hers, the ability to speak deserted her along with all coherent thought. She felt a sense of both relief and loss when he loosened his grip.
She turned and shook hands with Tommy. The older man smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“Frannie, Austin Parker is the hottest ticket on the NASCAR circuit,” Summer said.
“How…nice.”
“Tommy here’s the really hot ticket,” Austin said, gesturing to his companion. “He’s my pit crew chief, so he’s the one who really runs the show. The crew’s what keeps a driver on the road.”
“We’re delighted to have both of you here.” Summer’s smile included both men. “What can we do for you two gentlemen?”
“I’d like to book a room for Tommy for the next few days, if you’ve got one available.” Austin shifted his hat to his other hand. “He’s going to be overhauling the engine on my car. I intended for him to stay out at my ranch, but I’m havin’ the place renovated and all the guest rooms are a wreck. Do you happen to have any vacancies?”
“As a matter of fact, we’re nearly empty this evening.” Summer smiled at Tommy. “We’d be delighted to have you stay with us. Right, Frannie?”
Frannie smiled wanly, edging her way back to the computer. That gleam in Summer’s eye meant she was up to her old match making tricks, and Frannie wanted no part of it. Trying to interest Austin in her would be like trying to interest a yacht owner in a rowboat. Turning, Frannie picked up a handful of receipts and lowered herself back into the wooden swivel chair.
“Frannie, would you like to handle the check-in?” Summer prompted.
Frannie froze. “I—I, uh…oh, gee, I really need to get these numbers into the computer. Since Gavin’s not here yet, could you go ahead and take care of it?”
Summer had no choice but to graciously nod. “Why, sure.” She pulled a large leather book out from under the desk, opened it and angled it toward Tommy. “If you’d just sign in here, Mr. Deshaw.”
The look she shot Frannie told her she was in for a lecture as soon as Summer got her alone. Frannie fervently hoped Gavin showed up before that happened.
Frannie had no such luck. Austin had no sooner said his goodbyes and Tommy Deshaw headed to his room than Summer grabbed the back of Frannie’s chair and spun her around to face her. Frannie could tell from the way her cousin’s lips were pressed in a thin tight line that she was thoroughly exasperated.
“What’s the big idea?” Summer demanded.
“Of what?”
“Of ignoring the most eligible bachelor to hit Whitehorn since my Gavin, that’s what.”
“Oh, Summer, a man like that’s not going to be interested in the likes of me.”
“Not if you turn your back to him and act rude!”
“I wasn’t acting rude. I was acting busy. Which, it just so happens, I am.”
Frannie was relieved to see Jasmine saunter into the front foyer, wearing a striking black pantsuit. Frannie seized on the opportunity to change the subject. “Jasmine, you look great.”
“Thanks. What’s going on?”
Summer pointed at Frannie. “A wonderful specimen of manhood just walked in here, and our cuz wouldn’t even talk to him.”
“I didn’t have anything to say!” Frannie protested.
“You don’t have to say anything, Frannie,” Summer said. “You just have to talk.”
“Oh. Thanks for the clarification,” Frannie said dryly.
Jasmine laughed. “You know what she means, Frannie. Make small talk. Be pleasant. Show you’re accessible.”
“Let him know you’re interested,” Summer added. “Smile. Flirt.”
“That’s easy for you two to say. I don’t know how to do any of that.”
“Well, then, it’s high time you learned. Jasmine and I can teach you.”
Jasmine nodded vigorously.
“Oh, no.” Frannie held up her hands, palms out. “No way. No, thanks.”
Jasmine’s flawless forehead creased in a frown. “Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t work. Besides, I’d feel like an idiot.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Not for long, anyway.” Jasmine circled the front desk and stopped in front of Frannie, her hands on her hips. “Think about it, Frannie. Isn’t it better to feel a little silly for a little while than to feel lonely forever?”
Lonely forever—was that what they thought she was destined to be? A sharp little knife of pain sliced into Frannie’s heart. “There are worse things than being lonely,” she mumbled.
Such as being humiliated. And heart broken. And feeling like a pathetic fool.
Summer’s dark eyes filled with sympathy. “Just because you had a bad experience with one guy in college is no reason to shy away from all other men for the rest of your life.”
It wasn’t just a bad experience, Frannie thought, it was an amputation of part of her soul. Joe had not only betrayed her; he’d emotionally maimed her. He’d stripped her of her self-confidence and her ability to trust anyone.
Frannie pushed back her chair and rose, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not shying away. I’m just minding my own business, living my own life.”
“Frannie, you’re practically a recluse,” Jasmine said softly.
“I’m not!”
“Yes, you are,” Summer affirmed. “You never go to any parties or social events. You go to work at the bank, then you come home and work here. And if an attractive man happens to come within a mile of you, you duck your head and avoid making eye contact.”
“And then there’s the matter of how you dress,” Jasmine added gently. “You’re hiding all of your best qualities. You have a great figure, but no one would ever know it under the clothes you wear. You have beautiful eyes, but instead of wearing your contact lenses, you hide behind your glasses. I’d love to have thick, curly hair like yours, but instead of making the most of it, you keep it skinned back in a ponytail or a tight little bun.”
Frannie was surprised to find herself blinking back tears. “Sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you.”
“Oh, Frannie, that’s not what we’re saying!” Jasmine stepped forward and embraced her in a hug. “We love you and want you to have all the good things in life, that’s all.”
“That’s right. We want you to be happy.” Summer placed a hand on Frannie’s back and gave her a consoling pat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to jar a little sense into you, that’s all.”
Frannie sniffed and wiped her eyes, then pulled away. Summer gave her another pat on the back, then pulled herself onto one edge of the computer work station. “I don’t think you realize it, Frannie, but when it comes to men, you’re your own worst enemy. You’ll never meet anyone if you don’t stop hiding.”
“I’m not deliberately hiding. I’m just…I don’t know. Being self-protective, maybe.” Frannie turned away and stared at the large stone fireplace in the living room across the foyer. She took a ragged breath. “If I had one-tenth of the good looks you two have, things would be different. But I don’t. I don’t want to set myself up for rejection again, that’s all.”
“You’ve got everything we’ve got,” Summer said.
“And in some places, more.” Jasmine looked down at her own petite chest in such an amusingly wistful way that Frannie had to smile.
“I’m plain as mud,” Frannie said bluntly.
“You’re not!” Summer said. “You just need a little polishing up.”
“That’s right.” Jasmine nodded. “And attitude.”
Frannie gave a tight smile. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of that.”
“Boy, do you ever!” Jasmine grinned. “But that’s not the kind of attitude I mean. You need to project more self-assurance.”
“Jasmine’s right,” Summer said. “Your outlook and expectations become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you think you’re unattractive and don’t expect anyone to approach you, you’re going to act in ways that will make men keep their distance. But if you act confident and look your best and expect men to be attracted to you, that’s exactly what will happen.”
Frannie wished she could believe them. Some thing about that race car driver had stirred up longings she’d all but forgotten she could feel. She heaved a sigh. “You make it sound so easy. Too bad it isn’t.”
“Well, how about giving us a chance to prove that it is?”
If she had any sense, she’d say no right away. But the memory of Austin’s touch was too fresh on her mind. “What have you got in mind?” Frannie asked.
Summer grinned. “I just thought of the perfect occasion to prove to you that a makeover of your appearance and attitude can make over your love life.”
“And what might that be?” Frannie asked skeptically.
“Yeah, what is it?” Jasmine asked.
Summer paused dramatically. “The Whitehorn Ball. It’s the hospital’s big annual fund-raiser, and all of the staff is expected to be there. There’s this new doctor in radiology. He’s single, he doesn’t know anyone in town and he doesn’t have a date.”
Panic welled up in Frannie’s chest. “Oh, no. Not a blind date.”
Summer raised her hand in a calming gesture. “Just hear me out. The dance is three weeks away. That’s plenty of time for Jasmine and me to make you over and give you some pointers.”
“Oh, Summer, I don’t think this is a good idea….” Frannie began.
“It’s not a good idea. It’s a great one,” Jasmine said excitedly. She clasped her hands together. “We could triple date.”
“But—”
“But what?”
“But it’s a formal dance,” Frannie protested.
“So? That makes it all the more fun. We’ll turn you into Cinderella for the ball.”
“But—” Frannie swallowed around a lump in her throat. “But I was supposed to go to a formal dance with Joe the night after…after…”
“After you found out what a heel he was,” Summer finished for her.
Frannie nodded.
Her gaze was soft and warm. “That was what? Five years ago?”
“Six.”
