on the heels? His boots are brand-new and barely broken in. Not even a scuff mark on them.”
She sat down on a park bench. “I sure don’t. I’m guessin’ he’s a lawyer by day and thinks he can two-step in a bar like the Wild Cowboy on Saturday night. He’s hoping to show off his dancin’ skills and take a bar bunny home with him for the night.”
“With that hair and scraggly beard?” Pax sat down beside her and shook his head. “He’s not even from Texas, and he’s never been to a western bar. He’s sure not a lawyer with that long hair. Maybe some kind of con artist.”
“Who does he remind you of, anyway?” Alana asked.
“I don’t know.” Pax drew his dark brows down and tried to place the kid. “Maybe one of the hands by the name of Jake that’s been helping out on our ranch this summer.”
“No, Jake is just a kid. That man’s got to be at least twenty-two or twenty-three.” She shot another quick look his way. “I know who it is. He looks a little bit like Marty Deeks.”
“Who in the hell is that?”
“He’s a character on NCIS: Los Angeles,” she said. “He’s a detective with the Los Angeles Police Department on the show, and he’s also a lawyer, so that kid could be an attorney even with that hair. He’s a little taller than Deeks, and his hair is a shade or two lighter, but the rest of him sure looks like Marty.”
“A Hollywood actor in Daisy, Texas? That would cause a big hullabaloo, wouldn’t it? But I can see a little resemblance to that character. Guess we’ve finally attracted the rich and famous to our little Daisy Days Festival.” Pax loved playing games like this with Alana. “So what about that woman who’s checkin’ him out while he’s checkin’ out sunglasses? Is she fixin’ to flirt with him?”
“Oh, yeah, she is,” Alana said without hesitation. “And then she’s going to go home this evening to whatever Podunk town she lives in to tell all her friends and neighbors that she saw a real movie star. But then, the way she’s been lookin’ at you, she’ll probably not even see him.” Alana finished off the last bite of funnel cake and threw the paper plate in a trash bin near the end of the bench. “I could sure use a root beer.”
“Me too.” Pax stood up and headed over to the concession trailer that happened to be parked right next to the sunglasses where Hollywood was still looking at shades. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder. “What size, darlin’?”
Her wicked grin told him a smart-ass remark was on the way. “Size doesn’t usually matter, but I’d like a big one this time.”
“Your wish and all that hogwash,” he joked right back at her.
“What’s hogwash?” the guy they’d been discussing asked.
“Nonsense,” Pax told him. “You part of the carnival crew?”
“Nope. I just got into town and thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.” The young man smiled and be damned if Pax couldn’t see even more of that television character.
“Our annual Daisy Days Festival is always held on the Saturday before Memorial Day,” Pax said. “You enjoyin’ it?”
“I guess so. I’m Landon Griffin.” The kid stuck out his hand.
“Paxton Callahan.” Pax shook with him. “Enjoy your visit to our town.”
“Thanks,” Landon said. “I sure hope I will.”
Pax got two large cups of root beer and carried them back to where Alana was sitting. “His name is Landon Griffin. Is that your Marty Deeks?”
“Nope, I looked it up while you were talking to him. In real life Marty is Eric Christian Olsen, and I found out that he’s got a brother who is his stunt double. Interesting, huh?”
“Yep, but the guy is just a kid in town for the festival,” Pax said.
“Okay, then how about that short brunette over there by the jewelry vendor? What’s she doin’ here? She looks like pictures I’ve seen of gypsies,” Alana said.
“She’d definitely with the carnival.” Pax played along.
“How do you know?” Alana asked.
“Her picture is on the poster that’s been up all over town,” Pax said with a straight face. “That’s the fortune-teller.”
The woman turned around, and Alana slapped Pax on the arm. “You had me believing you. That’s Rachel.”
Pax blew on his arm. “Mosquitoes do seem to be bad around here today,” he joked and then leaned over to whisper, “maybe she’ll run away with the carnival and become a gypsy fortune-teller.”
“From