Cowboy of Her Heart by Honor James Page B

Buck come by today and ask me to marry him? That was
low,” she said.  
    “He did what?” The woman’s voice came through
the phone, shock evident.   “I’m gonna
beat that boy with a horse whip,” she muttered.  
    “He did,” Jackie said as she whipped into a
parking space and then groaned.   Of
freaking course! Of course, Grant, too freaking hunky for his own good,
Franklyn was there, parked in the only spot open on the street near her
shop.   “Gotta go,
Marilyn.   Please, please tell your
bridge partners, players, whatever they are, that I’m over the being set
up.   I can find my own love interests,
thank you very much.”   She turned off the
truck and added, “Gotta go.   Dawn Merlot
is stopping by today for color and cut and you know how she is if I’m not on
time.”   Without waiting another moment,
she disconnected the phone.  
    Tapping her forehead on her steering wheel,
she sighed and shook her head.   “God
bless America,” she grumbled as she opened the door, and in her frustration,
flung it open far harder than she had intended to.   “Crap on a freaking cracker,” she said as she
heard the distinctive crunch of metal on metal.   “Son of a bitch, he’s going to have a kitten.” Everyone and their
brothers knew that Grant Franklyn thought more of Matilda than any other thing in the world, even if she was a
freaking truck.  
    Grabbing a notepad, she wrote a quick note and
stuck it under the windshield wiper and ran for her shop.   She was ever so hopeful that he would just
let it go since it was her.   Another
thing everyone and their brother knew was that she was his least favorite being in the entire world.   The word hate often came up when people linked their names together.   She bet the bridge crew that was trying to
set her up would have heart attacks if they knew she had the hots for the ranch
owner.   Yep.   Best to keep the word hate between them or someone would try to get the two of them
together, and that was something she didn’t want.   Not that she didn’t want
him, but she didn’t want him to be forced.   Yep, she was a weirdo.  
    After getting everything set up, she greeted
Dawn as she entered, and the woman immediately began to gush the latest gossip, to which Jackie gave the necessary nods and sounds of
agreement.   Yeah,
wonderful.  
    Jackie paused and looked at Dawn.   "Hold the phone, sugar.   Mind repeating that last bit there?” she
asked with a distinct sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.   She had to have heard wrong, prayed she had
heard wrong.  
    “I was just saying that everyone is trying to
figure out why you aren’t married yet.   The only thing anyone has been able to come up with so far is that maybe
you’re gay.   It’s okay.   We will still love you, but don’t be
surprised if some of the older women don’t come back to your shop.   You know,” she leaned in and whispered, “The
older ones that aren’t as hip with today’s young people.”
    Her temper was simmering and getting ready to
boil.   She was ready to cuss those old
bitches out, and if she did, her momma would roll in her grave.   So instead Jackie counted backwards from ten,
in Latin.   When she was a little calmer,
she politely said, “And I keep telling everyone that my love life is none of
their concern.   Please make sure to pass
that around?”
    Pulling off her gloves, Jackie finished the
styling for Dawn and then groaned when none other than Grant freaking Franklyn
walked into her salon.   “Hang on a sec,
Sug,” she said and patted Dawn’s shoulder.   Walking toward Grant, she asked, “Can I help you, Mr. Franklyn?”
     

Chapter
Three
     
    He was staring at her, hard.   If
looks could kill, she’d be a pile of goo, no, not even that.   She’d be a skid mark on her wonderfully
polished floors.   His pale grey eyes
with the black hair that fell over his tanned forehead, too damned fine, and he
knew it.   Square,