Cathleen Galitz - Only Skin Deep

“It’s a deal,” Lauren promised.

All gratitude aside, she wasn’t too terribly disappointed to hear that Claire would be unable to accompany them on their shopping expedition. If what Claire was wearing at the moment was any indication, she probably did most of her shopping at a hip, urban out-fitters. As cute as the butterfly on the younger woman’s right shoulder might be, Lauren didn’t much care for the idea of being dragged into a tattoo parlor, either.

Suzanne wouldn’t hear of patronizing any of the local clothing shops and insisted they drive to the trendy tourist town of Jackson Hole where boutiques proudly displayed one-of-a-kind designs for a clientele of movie stars and local millionaires. When Lauren expressed her concern about the cost of such a venture, her friend promptly put things into perspective.

“Chic doesn’t come cheap. Besides, you don’t have to buy out any one store. Just a few dynamite outfits will be well worth the investment. Hopefully the next time we go shopping it’ll be for a wedding dress.”

That promise was enough to convince Lauren to go for it. Having saved most of her salary by living at home for so long, she felt entitled to a frivolous spending spree. A couple of hours later she placed a stack of purchases on the counter of a place aptly named Diva’s Digs. Only the thought of building a new life with a man who loved and appreciated her kept Lauren from complaining when the salesclerk rang up her purchases: an outrageously expensive pair of designer jeans, a brown checked sundress that made her feel rather like a debutante, a variety of leek tops, some classic tapered pants, matching shoes. And one timeless little black dress.

By the time they rolled back into town well after dark, Lauren felt like a movie star herself—a rather nervous movie star wondering when her leading man was going to make an appearance in her latest script….

As promised, Travis arrived bright and early Monday morning to take Lauren to his grandfather’s old cabin to see if she was even slightly interested in renting it. Claiming that she would be doing him a favor by simply keeping the mice at bay, he had already offered it to her for free, but she wouldn’t so much as think of staying there without paying something. Travis supposed she didn’t want anyon e thinking that she was a “kept” woman or something equally archaic.

The thought brought a smile to his lips as he sauntered up the well-tended walk to Lauren’s front door. He couldn’t imagine anyone believing the conservative Ms. Hewett capable of such debauchery. After the wedding reception last Thursday, Travis had spent a little time thinking about that spontaneous kiss Lauren had given him. He’d finally come to the conclusion that he had greatly overestimated its impact. It was easy enough to blame his reaction on the fact that he had deprived himself of female company for too long. Having been taken by surprise, his testosterone had simply kicked into overdrive. He wouldn’t let himself be so easily ambushed today.

When Lauren met him at the door, he couldn’t have been more startled than had she greeted him wearing absolutely nothing at all. Mouth open, he stared at her in confusion.

“What did you do different?” he blurted out with uncharacteristic lack of tact.

He wondered if she’d booked an appointment on one of those extreme makeover television shows. Surely a pair of pants couldn’t make such an amazing change. The smile she gave him was nothing short of dazzling and made him feel somehow taller simply for having shown up on her doorstep.

“I cut my hair,” she said simply enough. “Do you like it?”

“As a rule, I don’t like short hair on women,” he admitted honestly enough.

Nevertheless, Travis certainly found hers a tremendous improvement. He was struck by an urge to run his fingers though it and see if it really was as soft and shiny as it looked. Watching the corners of her lips turn from a smile to a frown, he realized too late that he had hurt her feelings. He hadn’t meant to. His mother had raised him better than to insult a lady, and he hastened to remedy his blunder.

“It looks nice on you, though. In fact you look great.”

Glad he didn’t have to lie, he wondered if a haircut and new clothes could really transform this shy wallflower into a blossoming Cinderella. Finding no fairy godmother hovering in the near vicinity, Travis reminded himself that he was the last person in the world to question what a woman did to herself. His ex-wife had made it clear that any decision involving her own body was entirely the woman’s prerogative.

Including whether or not she wanted to carry his baby….

Jaclyn wasn’t one to strap herself to an endless pile of dirty diapers, or run after some ungrateful “rug rat.” Never mind the fact that she’d claimed to be on birth control when she wasn’t. Or that she’d used her pregnancy to force a proposal out of him in the first place. Or that she’d ultimately terminated it without his consent.

Travis had never felt so helpless in his whole life. Nor so angry.

Or hurt.

The memory of that tragic day swamped him. To this day, he had to turn away whenever he saw a father and son playing catch in the park. Or a dad teaching his “little princess” how to ride a bike. Or a happy young couple playing peek-a-boo with an infant. Sucked in by dark waters passing under the bridge of time, Travis tried to shake off his murky thoughts while waiting for Lauren to lock her front door behind her.

“Not many people around here bother with that,” he observed.

“I know, but nowadays you have to be careful about who you trust.”

Travis couldn’t agree with her more. Reminding himself that sometimes monsters wore pretty, deceptive faces, he redoubled his efforts to give his heart the same consideration Lauren gave her mother’s house. Such conscientiousness boded well for her reliability as a renter, but considering the isolation of his cabin, he assured her that such wariness would be completely un-warranted “out in the boonies.”

A gentle breeze carried the delicate scent of her jasmine perfume as they walked to his pickup. Opening the passenger door of his one-ton dually for her, Travis realized it was a fragrance that could get under a man’s skin. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind since the reception, and right now it was making him itchy from the inside out.

Standing just under five foot five inches in her stocking feet, Lauren needed a stepladder to climb into the truck. Seeing as he didn’t carry one around with him, Travis offered to help her up into the cab. He was glad she didn’t object when he put his hands on either side of her waist and gave her a little boost. And relieved that she didn’t slap him when they lingered there a moment longer than they should have.

Their gazes collided. Travis lost himself in a pair of eyes the color of aspen leaves at the first sign of spring. There was no softer color on the face of the earth. The air in his lungs got stuck there as he forgot to breathe.

Just the other day on the dance floor he’d had to fight his way through all those filmy layers of chiffon just to even find her waist. Today Lauren wasn’t bothering to hide her mouthwatering physical attributes. A crop top the color of pale lemon meringue was tucked enticingly into a pair of slacks. There was nothing particularly sexy about the pants that Travis could see—other than the way they hugged her hips made him want to peel them off of her.

Whoa! This is no frivolous little swinger looking for a good time. This is a woman who’s made no bones about the fact that she’s looking to settle down. Hell, I’m not so sure she was joking earlier when she asked you to marry her. And you, cowboy, are about as eager to tie that knot again as somebody standing on the gallows….