Lori felt like a new woman in clean skinny black pants and a red shirt. Knowing they were actually going into town, she’d pulled her makeup bag out and swiped on some mascara, blush, and lip gloss. The only clean shoes she had left were heels, so she picked a red and black pair with three-inch heels, slung her purse over her arm, and headed back out the porch to see if Grayson was ready to go. He took one look at her and his scowl deepened. She would have scowled back, but she guessed it would irritate him more if she smiled instead. She might have forgiven him for being a total jerk out there with the pigs, but it still smarted that he’d immediately jumped to conclusions and treated her as if she were a few brain cells short of a full set and couldn’t even manage her way around the simplest thing. She’d gone to dance school in California, but she’d turned down several Ivy League schools to do it. Without saying a word to her, he headed for his truck. She shot an evil grin at his broad back.