Mary Lynn Baxter

Totally Texan


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him, managing to keep a safe distance between them, but giving him a once-over in the process.

      Not only did he look great in another pair of faded jeans and a blue T-shirt that exactly matched his eyes, but his height and the broadness of his shoulders seemed to dwarf the room, making it much too small for both of them.

      With her pulse still hammering much harder than it should have been, Kelly wanted to move farther away, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. There was no place to go that would put enough space between them.

      “Got a vase?” he asked, that grin still in place.

      “Uh, I’m sure Ruth has one around here somewhere.”

      “Maybe you ought to go and look.”

      A short tense silence followed, before she stated, “Maybe I should.”

      He chuckled again. “Hey, I’m harmless. Really and truly.”

      Kelly raised her eyebrows and smiled. Sure you are—like a rattlesnake on a mission. The cure for that was to keep her wits sharpened. She reached for the flowers. “Have a seat while I look for a vase.”

      “Sure you don’t need any help?” he asked, handing them to her.

      “I’m sure,” she said, with more sharpness than she intended. But jeez, this man was getting under her skin, and the worst part about it, she was giving him carte blanche to let that happen, especially when she knew he’d deliberately let his hand graze hers. Light though the touch was, it left her quivering with awareness.

      She finally located a vase, filled it with water and crammed the flowers into it. She then made her way back into the living room, setting the vase on a nearby table. He was bending over the fireplace, stoking the dying embers of the fire back to life.

      No question he did have one cute rear end. And right now, she was privy to staring at it without his knowledge Then, realizing what she was doing and the track her mind was taking, she shook her head violently and said, “Thanks for the flowers.”

      He straightened and whipped around, his gaze narrowed on her. For a long moment, their eyes met and held. Finally Grant’s gaze slid away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. His being here was simply not going to work if she didn’t get control of her scattered emotions. God, she was acting like a teenager in the grip of hormones, for heaven’s sake.

      “It’s a peace offering,” he said, rubbing a chin that had the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow, which only added to his attractiveness.

      “If that’s the case, then I should be showing up on your doorstep.”

      “Actually, it was just an excuse to see you again.” He paused and looked directly at her. “Any problem with that?”

      Yes! “You certainly don’t mince words,” she said, stalling for time. Now was the perfect opportunity to tell him she wasn’t interested in him, or any man, for that matter. Instead, she heard herself say, “Do you want to sit down?”

      “I’d like nothing better, but are you sure that’s what you want?”

      “No,” she said in a slightly unsteady voice, “I’m not sure of anything right now.”

      He plopped down on the sofa and concentrated on the fire while she sat on the edge of the chair adjacent. “I didn’t offer you anything to drink,” she said inanely.

      “A beer would be nice.”

      She stood. “Ruth has some in the fridge.”

      “I don’t like to drink alone.”

      “I have my coffee.”

      His belly chuckle followed her all the way to the kitchen. With her heartbeat still out of sync, she fixed the drinks and returned to the room. Meanwhile, he’d sprawled his long lets out in front of him. Unconsciously, she eyed his powerful thighs and the bulge behind his zipper.

      When she realized where she was staring, she whipped her gaze up, only to find him watching her with heat in his eyes. She took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Both her face and lungs felt scorched.

      He really should go.

      She eased back down in the chair and watched as he took a swig of his beer. After setting the bottle on the table beside him, he said, “What brings someone like you here?”

      Kelly gave a start. “Someone like me?”

      “Yeah, a real classy lady who looks and acts like a fish out of water.”

      “My cousin needed my help, and I came to her rescue.”

      “Nothing’s that simple.”

      “Perhaps not.”

      He reached for his beer and took another deep swig. “But that’s all you’re going to tell me. Right?”

      “Right,” she said bluntly, though she felt a smile tug at her lips.

      “So you’re either carrying a lot of baggage or a lot of secrets, Kelly Baker. Which is it?”

      “I’m not telling.”

      “If you’re not willing to share, how are we going to get to know each other better?”

      She didn’t know if he was smiling or smirking. She suspected the latter. “Guess we’re not.”

      “Man, you know how to pull the rug right out from under a fellow.” He stood, lifting his shoulders up and down as if to stretch, before stoking the fire once again. That motion called attention to his sexual agility and charisma once again. God, the man just oozed it.

      “You know the fact that you will barely talk to me makes me more curious than ever,” he said.

      The tension heightened.

      “You know what they say about curiosity.” She interlaced her fingers.

      “Yeah, it killed the cat.” He grinned and the atmosphere eased.

      “So what about you?” she asked, watching him plop back down on the sofa.

      “What about me?”

      “I bet you’re not willing to open your life to a stranger.”

      He shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

      She started to say, everything, then caught herself. “Whatever you’re comfortable telling me.”

      “Hell, if I have anything to hide, I don’t know it.”

      “Everyone has secrets, Mr. Wilcox.”

      His features turned grim. “Mr. Wilcox? You gotta be kidding me.”

      Her face burned. “I don’t know you well enough to be on a first-name basis.”

      “Bullshit. The fact that you got me hot the first time I saw you puts us on familiar territory.”

      “Funny,” Kelly retorted, though she knew her face was beet-red.

      The lines around his mouth deepened, suggesting he was about to grin. “All right, Grant,” she said.

      “Ah, now that’s better.” He polished off his beer, then got back on the subject. “I guess the most important thing about me is that I have trouble staying in one place.”

      “Why is that?”

      “Army brat. My dad was constantly on the move, so we didn’t stay in one place long enough to put down roots and form long-lasting relationships.

      “Are you an only child?”

      “Yep. Both my parents are dead.”

      “Mine, too.”

      “Ah, be careful now, or you’ll tell me something personal.”

      She glared at him and he laughed; then continued, “It was only