“Zack and Dan McKillop are good friends,” Simone added, leaving a long pause for any comment.
Jazz murmured “Oh?” in an effort to be polite. She had no desire to become the next hot topic of salon conversation—although she suspected that ship had already sailed. The other two chairs were empty and the stylists had gone off on break, leaving her alone with Simone.
And Simone, it turned out, could be persistent.
“I dated Dan for a few months. Of course, that was a long time ago, before he had money.” She fussed with Jazz’s hair, measuring a section with her fingers and then taking a few snips off at the crown. She kept her eyes on her task. “You’ve probably already heard that he’s got a bit of a reputation with the women in Grand. Don’t get me wrong—he’s not a cheat. He gives you his full attention when he’s with you, and when he’s ready to move on, he’s honest about it. But he gets bored easily. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Jazz couldn’t decide who she was more annoyed with—Dan for an irritating joke that had grown legs or Simone for her need to issue a warning that, without a doubt, stemmed from jealousy.
Then she decided she felt sorry for Dan. Simone too, for that matter. Dan, because while he might get bored easily, in reality he hadn’t yet found anyone who could measure up to Andy, the woman he’d loved. And Simone, because her need to mention Dan’s money was a strong indicator that she might have tried harder to hang on to him if she’d had that as an incentive. She was the type of woman Jazz did not, under any circumstances, intend to become.
“I’m only here for the summer,” she said, and inadvertently launched the conversation in a whole new direction.
Interest etched Simone’s features. “I can only imagine the stories the smokejumpers must tell. What’s it like to work with them? Do you all live at the base twenty-four hours a day?”
Jazz was used to answering questions about what it was like to be the only woman working with men, and what the sleeping arrangements were. But it came as a shock to realize Simone didn’t know she was a smokejumper, too.
Or rather, she used to be one.
“They’re a great group of guys who are all married. They spend their off-hours FaceTiming with their families. I’ve known most of them for years. Their wives, too,” she said.
If Simone was disappointed not to get any base gossip, she didn’t let on. Instead, she began to blow-dry Jazz’s hair. When she was done, she passed Jazz a small hand mirror so she could examine the back.
“It looks fantastic,” Simone said proudly. “The style suits you.”
Jazz tipped the mirror to check it out from several angles. It did look good. She’d worried for nothing. She couldn’t have gotten a better cut from her favorite stylist in Helena.
She thanked Simone, paid at reception and left her a hefty tip, then stepped into the sweltering heat. The gray clouds had moved in and their swollen bellies appeared ready to let go any second.
The clouds split apart and their contents descended in one mighty torrent. She had no umbrella and nowhere to shelter. She ducked back under the awning, but it offered very little protection. In another thirty seconds or so, she’d be soaked.
So much for the hundred dollars she’d just spent on her hair.
The sheriff’s SUV pulled up to the curb, its windshield wipers whipping frantically back and forth, unable to keep pace with the downpour. Dan leaned across the front seat and threw open the door.
“Get in.”
She was ridiculously happy to see him. All of her earlier concerns about catch and release programs flew straight out of the window. She dashed from the protection of the awning and ducked through the open SUV door, slamming it closed behind her. Her bare feet slid in her wet flip-flops. Rain drummed on the roof and streamed down the glass, but inside, it was cozy and dry.
“Your hair looks great,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Since she’d been standing outside a salon there was no need to read too much into his observational skills. But she totally got what Simone meant about him giving a woman his full attention. The way he looked at her with those country star eyes had her heart free-falling.
It filled her with terror.
*
Dan had neverseen a woman’s expression change from pleasure to fear with such rapid speed, before. He wondered what he’d done to trigger it.
Since Jazz had come from the salon where Simone worked, that might explain it. Simone had stopped by his office a few times over the past months, dropping hints she’d like to pick up where they’d left off.
Dan had no guilt with regard to Simone and how things had ended between them. She liked to party, and while he enjoyed a few beers with friends, he hadn’t been able to keep pace with her and hold down a job, too. They’d grown bored with each other.
Jazz didn’t strike him as the type of woman who’d lend too much weight to any tales a former girlfriend might tell her, though. Whatever he’d done to make her look at him that way, he’d undo. He’d had a rough week juggling budgets, both at home and at work. The jail food provision account was always a contentious election issue and he made sure every penny was accounted for. He could fill out the paperwork in his sleep. So far, catching sight of her had been the highlight of the day. She always looked so fresh and pretty. The fringe of blond hair over her eyes made them look larger and even more blue. If she ever decided to wear makeup—which she didn’t need—she’d no doubt be stunning, but he much preferred her this way.
He’d learned his lesson about offering her a lift home, but she couldn’t ride her bike until the downpour let up and he was due for a break. He had an errand to run in Billings, but he didn’t have to make that trip today. “How about we go grab a coffee and wait for the rain to stop?”