A Little Bit of Charm by Mary Ellis Page A

though remembering another detail. “Hold up there, big brother. Before you go all dewy eyed, I just thought of something that’s a deal-breaker for both of you. You had better advertise for business from younger clientele if you want to expand your dating pool.”
    The little hairs rose on the back of his neck. “What do you mean? I just want to get to know her. Don’t let your imagination run away with you.” His tone betrayed his irritation.
    â€œAll right, don’t get sore. Forget I said anything.” She headed toward the doorway.
    But Jake followed at her heels. “Why do you have a bug up your nose about her? What’s wrong? Doesn’t she like the same music videos as you? You women can be so—”
    Jessie pivoted and slapped both palms on his chest. “Stop. I really like Rachel. I think she and I could become friends if I wasn’t leaving Charm this weekend.”
    He stepped back. “Then what is it?”
    Jessie rolled her eyes. “Rachel leaves here around four. Why don’t you lurk along the path to the parking lot? Then you can nonchalantly run into her and introduce yourself. There’s one little personality trait you need to see for yourself.” Turning on her heel, she sprinted away.
    Jake slapped his hat against his pant leg. Women were so confoundedly cryptic. Despite the fact he had no hope of saying the right thing with Miss King, he sure planned to give it a try.
    At four o’clock, Jake Brady, a relatively mature man for twenty-three years old, hid in their lilac bushes, waiting for his prey like a red-tailed hawk. He had showered, donned a fresh shirt and jeans, and shaved…again. He had even splashed on cologne Keeley had bought him for Christmas. But when he inhaled a whiff, he washed the stuff off.
    Five minutes after the appointed hour, Rachel walked from the horse barns with her nose buried in the training manual. She’d slung her tote bag across her back and perched her sunglasses atop her head, nestled in the shiniest blond hair in Kentucky. She moved with a feminine, delicate stride, not shuffling her boots through the dust the way some girls did. Sunlight added a burnished glow to her peaches-and-cream complexion. Even from his vantage point, hidden behind thick waxy foliage, he recognized flawless skin.
    He was about to step from his refuge and make his presence known when she abruptly diverged from the path into the ladies’ room. His dad had built modern outdoor restrooms for their visitors several years ago before they began offering tours.
    Jake used the time to his advantage. He sprinted down the walkway into the parking lot and turned around. He would plod along, pacing himself, and then run into her as she exited the facilities. A more perfect scheme had never been hatched.
    Almost on cue, the lovely Rachel King walked outdoors andslung her bag over her shoulder, the training manual nowhere in sight. Jake, with timing to match his perfect plan, halted a few feet in front of her. “You’re…you’re Amish,” he stammered.
    Rachel pulled her sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose. “That I am,” she replied, stepping around him.
    â€œWait,” he demanded as he repositioned himself in her path. “I saw you earlier today and you weren’t Amish.”
    One corner of her mouth lifted. “I assure you I’ve been Amish for a while now. Ever since birth, actually. But if you saw me earlier, why are you still here?” Her half smile faded as she glanced at the empty parking lot.
    For a moment he thought she might bolt like a white-tailed deer at the sound of gunfire. “Please, let me explain. I saw you with my sister from inside the house. My name is Jake Brady.” He stretched out his hand. “I’m Jessie’s brother.”
    She stared at his hand briefly before shaking. “Rachel King, the new tour guide. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Brady,