the scuffed wood and reached for a wineglass.
“Red, of course.”
“Should’ve known.” He set the glass in front of her, then ducked beneath the bar,
only to pop up a few seconds later with two wine bottles in each hand. “Pick your
poison.”
“Impressive selection. I’ll take the Cabernet Franc.”
“About time someone drank it. I special ordered these fancy wines for a wedding
reception a few months back. No one was interested.”
He pulled the cork and splashed a healthy amount into her glass, then pushed it
toward her. After taking a sip, she said, “This will do nicely.”
He grinned. “And here I thought you’d be tough to please.”
Liza couldn’t stop the blush that flushed her cheeks. “I’m really not so difficult to figure out. You already know what pleases me.”
The dimple made her insides twist tight. “Told you I was just warming up,” he
reminded her with a wink, all traces of annoyance over Wilder peculiarities
disappearing.
“Yeah,” she said with a grin. “You did mention that.”
She took another sip of her wine as her insides sizzled. She glanced around the
saloon as her cheeks continued to burn. If memory served her correctly, it was pretty much the same crowd she’d encountered last night. The non-Bingo-playing types. She
couldn’t help but smile.
Jack said, “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
The way his intense gaze captured hers made Liza’s breath catch. He stared at her
as though no one else garnered his attention when she was around. She liked that about him. This was so different from her previous existence, when she’d fought tooth and
nail to be taken seriously in a male-dominated profession. And with her own mother.
111
Calista Fox
Most especially with Peter. She hadn’t felt the least bit significant in her past life. But when Jake Wade looked at her, she didn’t feel the least bit inconsequential.
As she back-peddled in her mind to what she’d found amusing in order to answer
his question, a familiar voice called out to her.
“Liza!”
Her head snapped in the direction of the woman’s voice. Bad memories clouded her
mind, making her think of that dreadful beauty salon she’d visited. But when her gaze landed on Jess Mills, one of the few friendly women in Lydia Bain’s shop, she relaxed a little.
“Hi, Jess,” she said, grateful her new acquaintance hadn’t called her earlier bluff
and used the Disco Ball nickname in front of Jack and the other patrons.
“Nice to see you again,” Jess said. She wore a prim-looking baby blue sweater with
pearl buttons and dark jeans. Her reddish-blonde hair was perfectly coiffed—a lustrous color paired with a complementary cut that gave her smart bob volume and
sophistication.
Liza resisted the urge to swear under her breath. Damn that Lydia Bain.
Clearly the woman had talent. Liza had counted seven heads of hair to be dealt
with in that shop and Lydia had been the only hairdresser working the floor. No easy
feat to turn them all into beauty queens at the same time and yet Jess had hair that was runway worthy.
“You look fabulous,” Liza told her.
She beamed. “Oh thanks. I swear someday I’ll try something new with my hair, but
Lydia is convinced this is the style for me.”
Double damn her!
“She’s right.” Liza had to admit, hating that she couldn’t contradict the reverend’s
wife. “Both the style and the color are perfect for you.”
“You really think so?” she asked in a serious tone. “I mean, you being from New
York and all… You’d know what’s trendy and what’s tired.”
It really was surreal to have everyone know who she was and where she’d come
from. But Liza guessed it was to be expected in a town this size.
Smiling, she said to Jess, “Fashion is subjective. The only person who has to like
your style is you.” Her lesson to the small-town folks who didn’t like the way she
dressed. “Although, personally, I think you look fantastic.”
“Hopefully George feels the same way,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “Come
on.” She grabbed Liza’s hand and pulled her off the barstool. “Meet my husband.”
Liza followed Jess to a table not more than a few feet away from the bar. Sitting in
one of the chairs was a distinguished-looking man, who smiled warmly as he got to his feet and extended his hand to her.
“You must be Liza. Jess mentioned you earlier on the phone when she left the
salon.”
112
Devil in Texas
Liza shot a look toward Jess who merely shrugged, not the least bit contrite. “Sorry.
I’ve just never heard anyone put Lydia in her place the way you did today and I have to say, she deserved it.” Jess’ lightly made-up face twisted in a contradictory fashion that said she both loved and loathed calling Lydia out. “I mean, sometimes she just goes too far.”
Liza had no basis of comparison, so she said, “I don’t like being talked about behind my back. If you have something to say to me, be woman enough to say it to my face.”
“Amen, sister,” Jess said with a nod. “But don’t hold your breath for that to happen
in this town.”
Liza sighed. “Yeah, I’m already seeing signs of that.”
Jess sank into the chair next to George. Liza was about to slip away when Jack
appeared at her side. He set her glass of wine at the empty place at the table, then
addressed George and Jess. “Another round?”
“Of course,” George said.
As Jack turned on his booted heels to retrieve their drinks, he shot Liza a sexy look that had her forgetting all about Lydia Bain.
Until Jess said, “You really shouldn’t take her personally. She tries to do the right thing, but sometimes she gets a little caught up in the reverend’s agenda.”
“He’s been nothing but civil to me,” Liza pointed out as she took the seat George
pulled out for her. “Whereas she’s been nothing but hostile. So it’s rather difficult to sympathize with her.”
Jess frowned. “I’m sure the circumstances are such that—”
“I’m sorry,” Liza interrupted. “To which circumstances are you referring?”
Jess’ gaze shot to George and it felt as though an elephant had just walked into the
room.
“Well,” George said in a tentative voice, giving Liza the impression she was about