to say that there were girls for fun, and girls for nun? That one would give you none, bro.”
“I don’t want anything from her,” Archer said, turning to walk toward the Lonely Hearts Salon. “She has an attitude reminiscent of Tonk.”
“And we call Tonk dog-faced. Think it over, bro.”
“Clover’s not unattractive,” Archer said. He realized what Bandera had said. “And neither is Tonk!”
His brother laughed. “I pick the girl on the bar stool,” he said. “I like a lady who’s easy on the eyes.”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Archer said stubbornly.
“But they are the first ticket to my heart, followed by my stomach being fed, my muscles being admired, my laundry being done, and my sex—”
“That’s enough,” Archer interrupted, getting crosser by the moment. “Glandular responses will remain undiscussed.”
A window opened above them. “Archer!”
“What?” He wondered what his glasses-wearing newcomer wanted now.
“Where’s the best place in town for drinks and dancing?”
Archer blinked. “Two-Bits.”
“Thanks.” She shut the window.
Bandera slapped him heartily on the back. “And you were worried about her being lonely. Sad. Homesick. A tragic heroine in a black governess dress right out of Jane Eyre .”
Archer turned toward Delilah’s. “I can’t picture Clover dancing.” He didn’t want to, either.
“It’s the quiet ones who’ll surprise you.”
Archer shook his head. “I reckon.”
“Night’s still young,” Bandera said. “If the wild girls are going dancing, maybe we should provide some partners.”
“Now, that idea has some merit,” Archer said cheerfully. He’d be willing to bet Clover’s idea of dancing was standing by a plastic banana tree, watching everybody else shake a leg.
Finding out that she was an unwatered wallflower would make him feel a whole lot better.
Chapter Four
Clove realized there was a problem with The Plan after spending the early part of the evening getting to know Archer better. Though his e-mail conversations had been Texas tall tale, in person he was Texas short story, she thought, annoyed. All bark, definitely no bite. Not even a nibble.
Apparently, the hook was not properly baited. Bandera had really gone for her as the bar-stool babe. If Archer had, he’d tried to conceal it.
He concealed a lot, this cowboy she’d come to romance. Somewhat rude at times, and definitely in need of a manners injection. Not as kind and poetic as he’d been in cyberspace.
She felt a bit betrayed. He was not going to ravish her; in fact, she doubted he’d ravish any woman. He was more a chauvinistic protector. How dare he tell her she couldn’t stay at Marvella’s! Breathing deeply to get past the memory of his pigheadedness, Clove told herself to remember the bundles of babies his family had produced. Twelve brothers, for starters, and miscellaneous progeny.
“I just want one,” she said longingly. “One.”
John Wayne had had his good side, mixed in with his arrogance, she remembered. Still, Archer seemed to be more arrogant than cowboy gentleman.
“Well, at least my heart won’t be in jeopardy where he’s concerned,” she told herself. A good stuntwoman always saw to her safety first, and after getting to know Archer better, she knew her heart was totally, completely safe.
“Maybe safer than I want it to be.” She gazed in the mirror. When she’d yelled down to ask him about a place to go dancing, she had hoped he would offer to escort her.
He hadn’t—and she had to admit that this cowboy was going to be tough to catch. The most bothersome part was that Archer wasn’t remotely attracted to her.
Picking up a curling iron, she absently pressed a curl into her hair. It bounced when she released it—and The Plan took on a modification. She began to do her hair the way Marvella’s girls had styled it earlier, Texas big and poufy. Tousled. Sexy. She applied the makeup the way they’d had it earlier, and