The thing was sheâd gone on about why she was starting the program. Raising her younger siblings after her momâs death. Being part of the community. Bending over backward to get the teen meeting spot right. Her earnestness was daunting. It seemed pure, but heâd had a costly lesson in misjudging women. A mistake he wouldnât repeat. Still, he just couldnât bring himself to tell her the whole truth of his offer to help. Since he wasnât getting out of Thunder Canyon without a driverâs license, he had to persuade Haley to give him a chance. Heâd prove himself trustworthy and indispensable, then break the news about community service. It was a good plan and there was no reason to doubt that heâd achieve his objective. Sales were his business and women found him charming. Mostly. Because there were so few exceptions, they were memorable. There was the girl in college who could give lessons in sales. Sheâd made him fall for her and even propose. Sheâd insisted wedding should come before bedding but she wouldnât feel right about marrying him until she paid off a large debtâmedical bills from her fatherâs open heart surgery. Marlon knew now he hadnât been thinking with his head when he wrote her name on a check with a lot of zeroes and handed it over. It was the last time he saw her. His most recent charm-resistant woman was the judge whoâd revoked his license for thirty days. Her Honor just didnât understand the need for speed on the empty, open highway and how it cleared a guyâs head. And he was a guy with a lot on his mind. Heâd found his community service. Unfortunately it was for another woman who didnât seem to get his charm. He could go to the next organization on the courtâs list, but Haley Andersonâs turndown had tapped into his mother lode of stubborn. He was going to change her mind. And the prospect was more entertaining than he would have expected. Marlon saw Haleyâs old, beat-up blue Ford truck go slowly by The Hitching Post, pull around the corner and into the parking lot behind ROOTS. There was a refrigerator in the truck bed and he got an idea that might solve his problem. He grinned. It was time to amp up the charm. He left his apartment and walked down the wooden stairs, leaving by the back entrance to avoid going through the bar and grill. The breakfast and lunch rushes were over and the place sounded pretty empty, but it was too easy to get pulled into a conversation. He was a man on a mission. He rounded the building, then walked down Main Street, turned right on Nugget Way and into the parking lot behind ROOTS. Haley was standing in front of the half-glass, half-wood door, unlocking it. âHi,â he said. She whirled around at the sound of his voice and pressed a hand to her chest. âYou scared me.â âSorry.â The sound of his boots on the paved parking lot was loud enough to wake the dead. She must have a lot on her mind, too. âI thought you heard me.â She shook her head, then tucked a strand of hair that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Earlier when she was painting, her hair had been twisted up and held with a comb thing. An image of that shiny brown silk loose around her shoulders flashed through his mind as the need to run his fingers through it banged around in his gut. He folded his arms over his chest to rein himself in. Distractions were not permitted to men on missions. Sheâd changed out of the earlier ratty jeans and oversize T-shirt into a red tab-front, collared shirt with a yellow horse and bridle above the words The Hitching Post on the breast. The shirt was tucked into the waistband of a pair of denims that hugged her curvy hips and thighs. Her big brown eyes assessed him warily. The expression reminded him of a potential client at a sales meeting, wondering what he wanted them to buy and how much it was going to cost. From