Beauty's Kiss(7)

“Is she, really?” Troy grinned. “Good for her. Tell her hello from me. Not sure she’ll remember me—”

“She remembers you.” Taylor couldn’t forget how Kara had positively gushed when talking to Jane about the Sheenan brothers during the Chamber’s Christmas party. Apparently Jane wasn’t the only Troy Sheenan fan in Marietta. “And I’ll tell her hello,” she added, reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Glad I could help. And if you need help tomorrow—”

“I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, opening the door to slide out of the car. She swiftly shouldered her bag and shuddered at the blast of cold air.

“You never did tell me your name,” Troy called to her.

Taylor tugged on her scarf, and forced a smile. “Taylor. Taylor Harris.”

He laughed softly. “I thought so.”

“You did?”

He nodded, his expression amused. “Jane told me all about you.”

Taylor suddenly couldn’t breathe. “She did?”

“You’re my date Friday night.”





Troy saw Taylor Harris’s eyes widen and her lips part in surprise for a split second before her mouth shut.

She managed a few words, mostly incomprehensible words and then raced up the walkway to the Jones’ front door. He stayed put, waiting for her to unlock the door. Once she was safely inside, he shifted into drive and pulled away.

So that was who Jane had set him up with for the Ball. A fiery little librarian who hid behind enormous tortoise frame glasses.

Interesting.

Either Jane hated him, or Jane knew something he didn’t.

Troy did like smart women, but Taylor Harris wasn’t anything like the women he dated. He preferred urban sophisticates, women that were very ambitious and successful... lawyers, doctors, executives, entrepreneurs. Ever since graduating from college, he’d been drawn to women who had big careers and big lives, women who didn’t depend on a man and knew how to take care of themselves. Women who preferred to take care of themselves. Independence was sexy. Intelligence and passion was sexy.

But the Ball was just one night, he told himself. And Jane said he needed a date, that it wouldn’t be right to attend a black-tie Ball at his own hotel without someone gorgeous on his arm.

Troy’s brow furrowed as he pictured the petite brunette who’d sat in his passenger seat staring out the window.

He’d never in a million years call her gorgeous. He wouldn’t even describe her as pretty. But she wasn’t homely, either.

Without her glasses she might be very attractive...

He sighed, wishing he hadn’t let Jane talk him into setting him up. He hadn’t felt the need to take anyone to the Ball. His brother Dillon would be there, and so far Dillon hadn’t asked anyone to be his date. Cormac was supposed to be flying in from California to see Dad and attend the Ball, and Cormac wasn’t sure if he’d have a date. The only Sheenan who had a date at this point, was Brock, and he was bringing his fiancée Harley.

But you have a date now, he reminded himself, and it was the perfect date for him since Troy didn’t do long distance relationships and he wasn’t about to get involved with someone in Marietta.

Much less Marietta’s new librarian.





The two story ranch house was dark except for a light downstairs in the back, when Troy parked in front of the house twenty minutes later, and left his bags in the back. He’d return later for them. But first he was eager to see his brother and dad.

In the house, Troy headed to the kitchen where the light was shining. Thirty year old Dillon was at the sink, washing up some dishes.

“How’s Dad tonight?” Troy asked, as Dillon caught sight of him and turned the water off.

Dillon grabbed a towel and dried his hands. “Better, now that he’s sleeping.”

“I saw your text. He had a rough day?”

“He was upset today. He wants to go to the cemetery.” Dillon paused, glanced at Troy. “See Mom’s grave.”

Troy’s forehead creased. “Mom’s not buried in town.”

“I know.”

“Her ashes are here.”

“I know.” Dillon tossed the towel onto the counter. “I told Dad that but he got all fired up, snapped at me that I was being disrespectful and to just do what he asked me to do.” He shook his head. “Hard to see him like this. He was always so tough. Now he’s like a lost little kid.”

“Or a grouchy little kid.”

Dillon smiled. “Glad you’re back. It’s good to see you.”

“Why don’t you get out of here? Go into town. I’ll sit with Dad tonight.”