Page 4 of Crazy for You (Loco, Texas 1)

“No!” Mr. Calhoun’s shout made her jump. Covering his panic with a cough, Mr. Calhoun added, “Don’t worry about it, Deana. I’ll have Paul restock them.

Deana stood back up, heat suffusing her cheeks, and hurried away from him to the beauty aisle. She picked up the first red hair dye she saw and moved on to the next item on her list. Finally spotting the condoms, she blinked at them as she read every label. Ribbed. Magnum. Glow in the dark.

Grabbing a pack of regular, she stacked the items in her hands and walked up to the checkout. Sweat trickled down her back as she tried to calm the queasy, gut-wrenching nervousness. She was an adult. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.

As she set the items down and waited, Mr. Calhoun came around the corner, followed by his bag boy, Paul. She was a little surprised none of the five Calhoun siblings helped their dad out, especially since two of

the girls were living at home again.

Mr. Calhoun rang up the hair dye, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you women want to go coloring your hair all the time. What’s the matter with being natural? I swear, my daughters are constantly plucking and tweezing, and it’s enough to make a man…” Mr. Calhoun’s voice trailed off when he picked up the condoms. When he looked at Deana with raised eyebrows, she expected a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but…

“Erm…what are these for?” Mr. Calhoun asked blankly.

Deana heard Paul’s snort and wanted to smack the kid. Hard. Right after she heaped a large spoonful of punishment onto Mr. Calhoun’s giant, red-haired noggin.

Humiliation she was used to, but when it was caused by a stupid, thoughtless question? Well, that just pissed her the hell off!

“Well, Mr. Calhoun, sometimes people use them to prevent the spread of STDs and pregnancy during intercourse.”

He flushed as Paul scoffed, and Deana pulled out a twenty, handed it to Mr. Calhoun, and snatched up her purchases without asking for a bag. “Keep the change.”

* * *

Finn Meyers walked up the main street of Loco, Texas, and chuckled at the lack of change the town had gone through in the last eight years. Still playing up the English translation of the town’s name, like Crazy Al’s or Dye Me Crazy Salon, the businesses that lined the streets looked like they belonged in the last century. Older buildings suited more for an old western movie lined the streets, with the only updates being a concrete sidewalk and neon signs in the windows.

Okay, so he was being unfair. The town had character, which was why he’d moved back. He wanted to be somewhere quiet, quaint, and without all the bullshit that came along with living in a large city.

He passed by a group of women who eyeballed him with obvious interest. Giving them his best smile, he drawled, “Ladies.”

The trio giggled, and he turned to watch them walk away, their butts looking mighty fine in their tight Wranglers. Another thing he’d missed about Texas was the women; no other place in the world raised ’em like Texas did.

Turning around again, he heard the faint sound of a bell right before crashing into someone exiting Crazy Al’s Food and Drug. Catching himself, he grabbed ahold of soft shoulders under a bulky sweater and looked down into wide gray-green eyes behind a pair of silver-framed glasses. The eyes were so familiar; it was as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

“Deana Sawyer?” He’d always thought she would go off to college and leave this town in her rearview. What was she doing there?

She looked stunned, her mouth hanging open in her heart-shaped face. With creamy skin and a touch of pink in her cheeks, Deana had always been a cute little thing. Even if she was accident prone.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Damn, he sounded casual. Nothing like their last actual conversation, where he’d behaved like a total dick. He might have been just a stupid kid, but he’d known acting like that was bullshit.

Whatever shocked spell she’d been under, she snapped out it of abruptly and jerked away from him to pick up whatever she’d dropped.

“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing hold of one of the boxes.

And apparently still holding a grudge.

Stooping, he picked up the other box she’d dropped, and his eyebrows rose. He handed her the condoms, fighting back a smile. “Here.”

Even with her head down, he still caught the telltale blush creeping up her neck. “Thank you.”

Finn remembered how sweet it used to be to watch Deana turn rosy and stammer whenever he’d teased her. That had been before their kiss. Before he’d listened to that asshole, Branson Alexander, about how dating Deana would be a bad idea and made a jackass out of himself.

“So hey, maybe you might want to get a drink sometime? Catch up on what you’re up to?” Finn asked.

Her gaze flew up to meet his as she stood, and her mouth twisted into a frown. “No, thank you.”

Spinning on her heel, she walked away from him, leaving him wondering what had possessed him to ask her out in the first place. It wasn’t as if she’d been haunting his thoughts the last eight years.

She does have a nice little frame, though.

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