Page 9 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

Ugh, Ellie’s right about the grandma-ishness.

“No, she was in the midst of having sex with one when the other one caught her. Apparently, she had been dating both but failed to mention it to either. Not only did that gossip columnist, Miss Whose It, write a half page about it,” her father said, referring to the new Small-Town Scandals gossip columnist, Miss Know It All, “now Joe Thompson is threatening to sue me if I don’t pay for the hole his boys put through the barn wall when they got into a fistfight over her.”

“Well, isn’t that romantic,” Val said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice and failing miserably.

“Don’t get cute,” he ordered, breathing deeply in her ear. She smirked. “I just can’t take it. I single handedly raised you girls after your mother died and every one of you has embarrassed me. How can I run for the senate on a family values platform when of my three daughters, you’re the best one?”

Val’s temper flared hot and ready. “Gee, thanks. I’m so honored.”

“What? Should I be proud that everyone thinks you were fooling around on your husband?”

“Screw everyone else. You know I wasn’t cheating on Cole.” She’d told him a thousand times that Cole had started that rumor when he was trying to make a case for the divorce, but her father hadn’t fully believed her, which hurt more than anything Cole had done to her. Of all the wild things she’d done in her life, she wouldn’t have broken her marriage vows.

“It matters how others see you, Valerie. I’ve told you that! And with the election this year, I need the people of Rock Canyon to respect me. I need some good press.”

Dread swept over Val at her father’s words. Good press were the same words he’d used when he’d urged her toward Cole, who Val had originally thought was kind of an ass. She’d convinced herself for a short time that she might have been wrong, and when Cole had asked her to marry him, she’d said yes.

But as they’d drawn closer to the date, Valerie had started to have second thoughts. Still, her father had said, “Please, princess, it’s an election year. We need good press.”

And here he was again, using those same words on her, like she was still twenty years old and itching to please him.

“Which brings me to my next point. You need to get back on the horse, so to speak. Walling yourself up in your house, shaving dogs’ asses all day, is no way to repair your reputation.”

Val got up to grab the Advil, a headache definitely forming between her eyes. She enjoyed grooming dogs and cats. She’d used the money from her divorce settlement and the trust fund she’d received on her twenty-fifth birthday not only to buy her house but to convert the back into a grooming shop, with easy-to-sweep linoleum floors and cages against the wall. She’d installed a large bathing tub and grooming table, all of which resulted in a nice income that kept her from dipping into the rest of her money, especially during the summer months. The winter months were slower, but she did okay.

“I enjoy my job, and my reputation is my business. I’m a grown woman.”

“Your reputation affects me, which makes it my business,” he said, and she resisted the urge to go to her happy place and tune him out.

“I promise to avoid causing any further embarrassment to you—”

“What about Kyle Jenner?” her father asked, interrupting her.

Bile rose up her throat and settled at the back of her mouth, making her grimace. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? He’s good-looking, connected. We’ve known his family for years—”

“He’s a fucking pig, and that was before—”

“I hope you don’t talk like that around town. You sound like a trucker.”

Gripping the phone in her hand, she tried to speak calmly. “I will never, ever date Kyle Jenner. I can barely be in the same room with him.”

She heard her father’s sigh, filled with exasperation and disappointment. “Fine. I have another solution, then.”

Whatever crazy scheme he had planned, he could just leave her out of it. “No, Dad, I’m done. If you want, you can disown me or something; just leave me alone.”

“Listen to me; just listen. There’s this little town in Nevada called True Love that’s rumored to have the best matchmaker in the world. P

eople come from all over to be matched by her and to learn from her. This year is their 150th anniversary, so they’re making a big splash of things. True Love relies on these matchmaking events to keep their history alive and to keep their businesses afloat.”

His dramatic pause let her know he was gearing up for the punch line. “A politician’s daughter, with a failed marriage and a broken heart, finding love at their event would be a real coup for them. With online dating sites becoming so popular, they’ve been experiencing some tough times, and the owner and I think this would be a great publicity move.”

“So, what do you get out of it?” Val asked.

“My daughter wanting to remarry and start a family”—Val winced—“would solidify my core campaign. Sure, you’ve had a rough time, but now that you’ve had a chance to mourn the destruction of your first marriage, you’re ready to move on. And what better place to do that than a town known for its romantic history? A hundred years of tradition and true love; not even the most damaged could resist the romance of it all.”

“Sounds like cheesy pandering,” she said, not buying a minute of it. “I’ve told you before, I do not want to re—”

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