Seducing Texas (So not Prince Charming #2)(5)

She frowns. “And you didn’t think to tell me that.”

“I saw him a few days ago. This is the first chance I’ve had. He’s so gorgeous.” I let out a frustrated sigh. I’d love to have a man like him. I couldn’t even find a guy to take me to senior prom.

I’ll be glad to be out of high school next year and in college to date real men.

“What did Shane say?” Cyn asks anxiously, tugging my arm.

“I already told you.” I plop down beside her. “Shane’s so manly. You need to find me someone like him.”

“You’ll find your prince.” She hands me an apple. “Did you tell him about my interview? I put it under my middle name.” Cyn’s actually nervous about seeing Shane.

“No. I wish I could see his face when he sees your dress,” I say.

“He thinks I’m a little too wrapped up in clothes.”

“No, he doesn’t. He loves the way you look. It’s obvious how he trips over himself when you’re around. He told me about your 80-mile adventure. That made you a superstar in his eyes. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit.”

“I hope so. No other guy can compete with him now. I may even move to Alaska to live in his stupid fishing camp.”

I lie down and kick my feet up in the air. “That wouldn’t be so bad. You love to fish.”

“I do, and I love that big gorgeous man chiseled from granite.”

That would be a huge step for Cyn. She’d miss living in Austin and the stores, but being broke, she’s already missing them. “Shane has a perfect body.”

“Please don’t remind me.” Cyn pulls out the old flowers and puts in the stolen roses. We eat our lunch and enjoy the gentle weather of March in Austin.

Singing in a thick Irish brogue about a Dublin girl named Molly Malone sounds in my ears. I glance over my shoulder to see who’s singing the song. The crashing and swearing of a good-sized man comes next. He stumbles along and almost knocks himself unconscious by falling onto a headstone. What’s wrong with him?

Cyn nods at this very hot man filling out his jeans and tee shirt incredibly well. He’s tall, not as tall as Shane, with dark hair and several days worth of beard growth. Oh my God, I think I like his beard. None of the boys in high school have one. He’s extremely masculine, and I’d like to touch him.

What is wrong with me? I’ve only kissed a handful of boys, and I think Cyn paid them too. I’ve never been forward, but the sudden attraction has stolen my good sense.

She’s always trying to set me up. She also knows how awkward I feel trying to talk to guys. I don’t have the whole flirty thing going on like Cyn and Fay.

He doesn’t even glance at us, so there’s no interest. It’s no surprise, not for me.

He blunders over to the Hunt plot, which surprises me. How does he know them? Fay’s dad is buried there, and he plops down in front of Fay’s uncle’s grave. Dallas Hunt recently passed. I don’t think he had any children, but Fay said he was a womanizing partyer, so maybe he does have kids.

My crooner has thick unruly hair that I’d love to run my hands through until he pulls out a flask. He’s not for me, not if he’s drinking and driving.

“Who do you think he is?” I ask Cyn. I can’t believe I’m still interested. He’s plastered.

She shrugs. “I think he’s crying. He may be related to Fay.”

“Should we see if he’s all right?” I ask, though I don’t really want to approach a drunkard.

“He’s upset and we probably shouldn’t let him drive, especially if he’s related, even through marriage.” She nudges me. “Go talk to him. You need a date for prom.”

“I’m not looking for a man, and I don’t need a date for prom,” I say. “He’s too old to go to some high school dance.”

“Maybe he’s looking for Cinderella to take to the ball.” She shoos me away. “You need to work on your man skills.”

“He’s drinking,” I say.

She winks. “That’ll make it easier. He won’t remember the conversation.”

Talking to men has never come easy for me, but Cyn’s right. I start a sales job next week, and I work on commission. I need to be able to talk to strangers.

“Go on.” She’s teasing me now.

Nerves kick my stomach all the way over to him. He doesn’t even notice me approaching. Could I be anymore invisible?

The closer I get I realize he’s not crying. He lets out a raucous laugh. Why is he laughing? Dallas is dead. He sits right on his grave and takes a healthy swig from his flask.

“Ah, dear old da,” he says in that sexy Irish brogue. Could he be any hotter? “Yer were a tool.”

It’s good to know he’s probably not a blood relative to Cyn or me, though he could be swinging from Fay’s family tree.

He drinks some more and then stares at my Chucks. His hand presses down on them, like they might be a figment of his imagination. He then grabs my ankle, startling me. It’s like I was struck by lightning. His gaze works its way up my body, making me extremely uncomfortable, even if he is painfully hot.

“Well hello, wee lassie. Yer looking for someone?”

“Are you okay?” I barely get out. Did someone suck all the air off the planet because I can barely catch my breath?