Page 71 of The Fixer

Joy stifled her horror and ignored the bats that had begun a furious flight in her tummy. How could she get herself out of this “festival” she’d promised to attend? She’d call in sick. Yes, that was the answer. Except it wasn’t.

“Oh, and you might want to lighten up on the makeup too. It tends to streak when you sweat,” Amy added for good measure. “Besides, you have such a nice complexion. You don’t want to cover that up.”

“Are you saying I wear too much makeup?”

Amy pinched her thumb and index finger together. “Little bit?” She gave Joy such a sweet smile that Joy could only laugh.

An hour later, Joy emerged with recycled paper bags stuffed with an array of tops, a jean jacket, two pairs of jeans, plain black slacks, a floral sundress, a flirty denim skirt, a pair of black cowboy boots with red insets, strappy sandals, and two pairs of sneakers. Winona, the owner who’d been working the counter, had also thrown in a pair of ridiculous hoop earrings and a necklace loaded with mountain-motifed charms she’d called “whimsical.” Despite her grousing on the phone to Estelle about the experience on her way back to her mother’s shop, Joy was a little giddy over her purchases. She’d spent less than a hundred dollars.

For the next two hours, she showered and shampooed and tried on the clothes in different combinations until she finally decided on the skirt, the boots, and a ruffly white V-necked blouse. Back in Chicago, she would have neverlookedat pieces of clothing like these, much less buy and wear them. After all, they were on the cheap side, which explained why the sizes were at least one or two bigger than her usual clothing. Everyone knew inexpensive clothes were cut smaller.

She applied a little makeup, Amy’s advice dancing in her head. Adding the silly necklace and the earrings, she gave herself the once-over. She hardly recognized herself in the laughable clothes. The whole package that was Joy Holiday was so off the beam. But she couldn’t do much about it because her phone had been chiming for five minutes, telling her she was late. The rest of her new wardrobe wasn’t going to be an improvement over this ensemble, so she flapped a hand at her reflection and left to pick up her … the guy whose kiss she couldn’t get out of her head. The kiss that had been a mistake of epic proportion.

It didn’t matter what Charlie Hunnicutt—or anyone in Fall River, Doro, or the entire Western Slope—thought of how she looked. She was blowing this Popsicle stand any day now. The exact day of her departure just wasn’t clear yet.

Chapter 20

The Silver Lode

The BMW glided upCharlie’s driveway as he peered out the window. He’d been pacing for a good ten minutes, and the sight of the sleek car flooded him with both relief and annoyance. Relief because he had decided Joy was standing him up and annoyance because she was there and she wastenminutes late. He didn’t like late, but did it really matter? This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything except an excuse to show her the countryside—never mind that he really didn’t need to anymore since they were partners and the project was underway.

Why were they going to Doro again? The reasons had become murkier and murkier.

Luna and Sunny danced at the front door, squeaking with excitement when he opened it to greet Joy. He nearly squeaked too. The woman who climbed out of the fancy car stunned him stupid. Her glossy hair was in loose waves, looking irresistibly touchable as it flowed around her shoulders. Big silver hoop earrings added an unexpected bohemian look. Her face was softer somehow, her lips a pretty pink instead of the harsh red she usually favored. She was dressed in a short denim skirt thataccentuated her tan thighs, along with cowboy boots and a gauzy white top that hung off one shoulder and showed off her assets without revealing them. And her assets seemed to have grown. Nah, it was probably the top or whatever bra she had on under there.

Wonder what color it is? Is it one of those half-cup things? Satin or—

He gave himself a mental shake and held up a hand in greeting. “Hey.”

She offered a contrite smile. “I’m sorry I’m late. I hate it when people are late, and I bet you do too, but I got caught without any clothes—in my wardrobe, I mean—and of course I couldn’t wear my mother’s …”

He nodded and shook his head as he tried to keep up with her rambling. Her expressive eyes rolled and held a smile. Was this the same woman he’d been wrangling with for two weeks? Impossible … although he liked this one way better. Except for that kiss the other one had shared with him. Yeah, that had been epic. So had the boner he’d had to take care of afterward.

“We should go,” she ran on, “but first can I pet the girls?”

He blinked at her, speechless for a moment until he realized the girls she referred to were Sunny and Luna. “Yeah, of course,” he choked. “They’ve been waiting for you.”

She scooted up the walkway and crouched in front of the dogs, ruffling their necks and letting them lick her chin. He tried not to look down her blouse—he really did—but it was just kind of gaping, and she was wearing a pink lace bra that intrigued him. What kind of lace was it? Were there bows anywhere on that bra? Was it the reason she looked more … more? He wasn’t ogling. He was … learning things about his partner. Yeah, right.

She cocked her head and looked up at him. “Ready to go?”

Oh yeah.“Yes, sure. You still want to drive?”

“Just try keeping me from behind that wheel.” Her face burst with a playfully devilish grin.

He blew out a breath as he climbed into the passenger seat. He told himself, over and over, to look out the window at the scenery instead of the scenery that sat to his left and smelled really, really good.

“I’m so sorry.” Joyleaned across the console and studied him with worried eyes. “Are you going to be okay? I didn’t realize you were the carsick type.”

“No, I’m good,” he assured her as he battled wicked nausea. He normallywasn’tthe carsick type, but apparently riding beside a possessed Formula 1 race car driver through winding mountain roads brought it out in him.

Do not hurl, do not hurl, do not hurl.

He would have to fork over his man card if he did because Micky would find out, and he would never let Charlie live it down. Joy was a good driver, he’d give her that, but she was also an aggressive one, and shelovedpushing the turns. And this particular road had lots of them. At least it kept him from ogling her the whole way.

“You sure? You’re looking a little green.” Her voice held more concern than he’d heard out of her the entire time he’d known her.

“Just give me a minute.” They were parked on a turnout while Charlie gulped in air and tried to convince his stomach it felt great.

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