Only in Texas

by Christie Craig

  He reached over and ran the tip of his finger over the edge of her plate and then tasted it. “Isn’t that the restaurant where we went on our first date?”

  “Yes.” Memories of that night filled her mind. Had he chosen to buy the dessert from there because of its history? Was he sitting across from her without a shirt on to make her want him? If so, it was working.

  He turned his wineglass. “Why don’t we go there next weekend?”

  Her pulse started racing. Did he plan on being here next weekend? What was his plan? What was Tony doing? “Won’t your bedbug situation be cleared up by then?”

  The moment the question slipped out, she wanted to take it back. She didn’t want to talk about why Tony was here, because that conversation might lead to why he’d left. And she wasn’t ready to talk about that.

  She saw him studying her.

  “You ready for the second course?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “Yeah.”

  Tony served her fried oysters, twice-baked potatoes, and candied carrots—one of the few vegetables she liked. They made small talk. She asked about his dad and about his work. He asked if she’d heard from her father lately and, when she said no, he frowned. Tony wasn’t exactly a fan of her father. Not that she blamed him. She wasn’t exactly a fan herself. She’d forgiven him for many things in her life, but not showing up for Emily’s funeral was the last straw.

  Trying to pull her thoughts from that path, LeAnn turned the conversation to Nikki. “You don’t really think Nikki Hunt killed her ex-husband, do you?”

  “My gut says no. But there’s a hell of a lot of circumstantial evidence against her.”

  “Then follow your gut. It’s always right.”

  He toyed with the stem of the glass.

  “You could be nicer to her, too. She thinks you don’t like her.”

  “I’m just doing my job, LeAnn.”

  “Do it nicer.”

  “I’ll work on it.” He stacked their plates and pushed them to the side. “You know Dallas has a thing for her, right?”

  She smiled. “I kind of got that.”

  “Did you know she puked on him?”

  “What?”

  He told her the story and she couldn’t help laughing. “How serious is it between them?”

  “I know they’re hitting the sheets already. I think the thing with Serena made him gun-shy.” Tony paused and stared at his wine again before looking up. “I think people sometimes let the past get in the way of the future. They let it stop them from moving forward.”

  Emotion caught in her chest. She knew he wasn’t talking about Dallas anymore. “It’s not always easy, Tony.”

  “Not easy. But I think it’d be worth it.”

  She knew where this conversation was leading. And like the door down the hall that she couldn’t open, she wasn’t ready to face it. Not with Tony. She was almost to the point where she didn’t blame herself for Emily’s death, and if she discovered Tony blamed her even the tiniest bit, she simply didn’t think she could handle it.

  “Thanks for dinner.” She stood up. “Just leave the dishes and I’ll wash them tomorrow. I’m tired.”

  “Well, I did ask you if you were gay.” Nikki rubbed the arm of the pink sofa as Dallas returned from the kitchen where he’d drop off their plates. After Tyler left, they’d run to the grocery store for steaks. “You know, the only thing that keeps me from revoking your man card is your aptitude for grilling.” She giggled.

  “Hey, I’m so masculine that I can own a pink couch.” He dropped down beside Nikki. “You have to admit it’s comfortable.”

  “Very nice,” she said.

  “Let’s see how it feels lying down.” He pushed her back and stretched out beside her. “Hmm, not quite soft enough,” he said and positioned himself on top of her. “Much better.” His warm mouth, flavored with the wine they’d drunk, moved over hers in a soft, wet kiss.

  He pulled back. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gotten hard thinking about you today? In public. Once in an elevator in front of two nuns.”

  She laughed. “So sorry.” She moved her knee slightly between his legs.

  His expression turned serious. “Thanks for being nice to Eddie. He wouldn’t even take the check Tyler tried to give him before he took off. He said you gave him art lessons.”

  “He’s really a good kid. You’re going to be able to get him off, aren’t you?”

  “Actually, I got a call from my brother while I was grilling our steaks. He seems to think Eddie’s problems will go away. We should know something in a few days.”

  “Really? I guess I shouldn’t judge your brother so harshly.”

  “He’s a good guy, Nikki.”

  “Did you tell him about the flash drive?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to talk it over with Austin and Tyler and hear their thoughts.”

  “Three heads are better than one, huh?”

  “Yeah. In spite of how they act sometimes, they’re really good guys, too.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” She ran a hand over his cheek. “Friends are important. I’m close to Ellen like that.”

  “She seems nice. A little frisky, but—”

  “Hey, it was the morphine.” Nikki giggled. “I went to see her before going to the gallery. She’s better. Your sister-in-law was there.”

  “LeAnn’s pretty cool.”

  “What happened between her and Tony? I mean, if you’re not comfortable telling me, you don’t have to.”

  “Nah, it’s not a secret. Not that Tony or LeAnn talk about it.” He rolled to his side as if he worried his weight was too much for her. “They lost a child. Only a few months old. She died in her sleep, just stopped breathing. It was tough. I thought Tony was going to lose it. Mom had just died a week before. I don’t know exactly what happened but, before long, Tony told me he’d moved out.”

  “That’s terrible,” Nikki said.

  “Yeah. But he’s trying to win her back.”

  “I hope it works out. I get the feeling she still loves him.”

  “I hope so. He’s crazy about her.”

  Nikki’s mind went back to the conversation they had about the busboy at Venny’s. “I don’t understand how the busboy could be involved if you think Andrew Brian did it.”

  “Someone had to put the ipecac in the gumbo.”

  “Yeah, but I just don’t see a connection. And I don’t understand why someone would give him something to make him throw up if they were planning on killing him.”

  “That’s why we want to find the busboy. But why don’t you let me worry about that?”

  They lay there for long minutes, just being close.

  “I bought some ice cream if you wanted dessert,” Dallas said.

  “I already had ice cream.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “You really shouldn’t have licked that ice cream like that in front of Eddie.” Leaning closer, he ran his tongue over the edge of her ear.

  She thumped him on his chest, but not hard enough to push him away. It felt way too good to do that. “It was you he was talking about, not me.”

  Dallas laughed. “I only licked it like that because you did.” He gently placed a moist kiss at the edge of her neck, and the warm feeling spread all the way down to her toes.

  “It was my ice cream. I was eating it, not having sex with it.”

  “Speaking of sex…” He rolled on top of her again. It was amazing how every part of him fit perfectly on every part of her. “You still hoping for option D, all of the above?”

  She studied him and grinned. “Are you trying to get me to talk dirty to you?”

  He laughed. “Does that turn you on?”

  “I… wouldn’t know. I haven’t tried it.”

  “Then you should try it,” he teased. Heat and humor filled his blue eyes. “Tell me, Nikki. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

  A few very suggestive responses tickled the tip of her tongue, but she coul
dn’t bring herself to say them. She blushed just thinking about them.

  And he must have noticed, because he laughed. “I’m just letting you know what’s on the menu so you can get what you want.”

  She swallowed a bit of embarrassment and tried to sound sexy. “How about I take whatever is on special for the evening?”

  “All of the above, it is.” He kissed her, slowly, thoroughly, and then stood up and pulled her up beside him.

  “What?” She grinned. “I thought your masculinity wasn’t threatened by the pink sofa.”

  “So you’re into sofa sex?”

  She cut him a coy smile. “I don’t know. You’ll have to define sofa sex.”

  “Define, it hell.” He lowered her back on the pink leather. “I’ll show you.”

  And he did. As well as option D.

  For the record, she liked both.

  An hour later, Tony was finishing the dishes and struggling not to slam pots and pans around. Damn it! Why couldn’t he have kept it light, kept it fun? But holy hell, it had been going so well. They’d actually carried on a conversation. They’d laughed.

  Moving to the living room, he looked at the closed bedroom door. Light spilled through the doorjamb. Maybe it was time to move to plan B.

  He went to gather his deodorant, almost grabbed some clothes but that wasn’t part of his plan. Heading back to the kitchen, he poured a glass of wine. Three glasses of wine and his wife usually got frisky. Not that he expected to get lucky tonight, but he sure as hell wanted her to start thinking frisky. Returning to the bedroom door, he knocked.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly.

  He opened the door. She lay in the bed, a book in her lap. He recognized the old nightshirt she wore. He’d taken it off of her dozens of times. The fact that he knew she didn’t wear underwear to bed made his own underwear feel tight.

  “I need to shower. You don’t mind, do you?” He stepped inside, not giving her a chance to say no.

  “Why can’t you use the hall bath?”

  Her long hair hung over her shoulders and brushed against her breasts, and his mouth watered. “No… shower, remember? I tried to talk you into putting one in there.”

  “Then why don’t you just take a bath?” she asked, her brows tightening.

  “I hate baths, you know that.”

  He set the glass of wine on her bedside table. “I thought you might want another.” Looking down, he read the title of the book. “A Hard Man.”

  “It’s not what you think.” She squinted at him.

  “Isn’t it a romance?”

  “It still doesn’t mean… He’s a weight lifter.”

  He reached for the book and she jerked it back. “Come on, let me read a few pages. Sounds interesting.”

  “No.” Her face turned red.

  And he knew damn well why she didn’t want him to read it. “It’s not about a weight lifter, is it?”

  “Is, too.”

  He laughed and, holy hell, but he wanted to fall in the bed beside her, to show her just how hard a guy could get. Nine months without sex could take a guy up a few notches. He started getting hard when she bent her knee and he got a peek at a creamy thigh. “I’m… going to take a shower.” He got to the door. He wasn’t sure what drove him to do it, but he turned around. “You want to join me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Tony turned the shower off and his hope went down drain with the sudsy water. Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to join him, but damn he’d hoped.

  Grabbing a towel, he ran a hand through his hair and wrapped the white fluffy cotton around his waist. He eyed himself in the mirror. Not bad for thirty-two years old. He flexed his muscles and loosened the towel so it draped a bit lower. He twisted the towel so the slit would offer the best opportunity, and then stepped out into the bedroom.

  She sat there where he’d left her, her nose in the book. In her other hand she held the wine. Slowly, she lowered the book and looked at him. Shock widened her eyes.

  “Sorry, I forgot to grab my clothes.” He started toward the door, feeling her watching him. Reaching the door, he turned to find her gaze glued to him. “Good night. Enjoy your book.” He stepped out and shut the door, but he heard her mutter,

  “Forgot my ass.”

  He smiled. Then because he was having too much fun, he swung around and stepped back into the bedroom. Cool air hit certain body parts down south, and he knew the slit was exactly where he wanted it to be.

  Her gaze shot down, then up, then down again.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to watch a movie? I picked up a couple from the Redbox. One of them might even be about a weight lifter.”

  Her eyes tightened with aggravation, but he knew LeAnn well enough to know her eyes tightened long before she acted on the emotion. She was easy and fun to rile, but slow to real anger. It was only one of many of things he loved about her.

  “No.” She waved him off, but not before her eyes lowered one more time.

  He shut the door, smiling. Oh, yeah, plan B was much more effective. All he had to do now was come up with plan C.

  On Saturday, Dallas went with Nikki to the gallery. “You’ll get bored,” she’d told him. He insisted he wouldn’t and that leaving her alone when Brian had already shown up once was too risky.

  Indeed, it was risk Nikki was worried about. But it didn’t involve Brian. Riskier was letting Dallas get closer to her than he already had. She tried putting up her barriers, but the more she was with him, the more she liked him.

  And it wasn’t just about sex. Oh, the sex was awesome, but it was how he made her laugh even during the biggest crisis of her life. It was how she could make him laugh, how he fit into her crazy world. Not having to apologize that her family wasn’t Norman Rockwell perfect. Nothing against Norman—she liked to paint idealistic moments that screamed emotion as well—but life wasn’t about a few captured seconds. It was about the seconds before and after.

  On Saturday night, they’d visited Nana and the Ol’ Timers to play board games. Dallas seemed to enjoy being around this odd group that made up a big portion of her life and a bigger part of her heart. He’d laughed, joked and she could swear he had a good time.

  He’d even asked Nana if she might invite his dad to join them next time. Nana informed him that she’d already invited him, but he’d declined. Nikki heard the caring in Dallas’s voice when he spoke about his father. She also heard it when he spoke to his father on the phone. She tried to remember ever hearing Jack talk to his parents like this, but she couldn’t.

  Sunday morning Dallas asked if she’d join him for lunch with his dad. How could Nikki say no when he’d gone with her to Nana’s? Before they’d left, Dallas told her about his dad wanting him to go to the cemetery for his mom’s birthday.

  “You have to go,” she’d said.

  He appeared annoyed. “Do you have any idea how it felt going to my mother’s funeral in handcuffs? Besides, my mom’s dead.”

  “But your dad isn’t,” Nikki said. “This isn’t for your mom. It’s for him. And you’re not in handcuffs now, Dallas. Maybe this time, it won’t feel so wrong.”

  Dallas just stared. “Did I ask you to get logical on me?”

  He’d put humor in his voice, but she knew he’d been serious. However, when eating burgers in Mr. O’Connor’s bright red kitchen that day, Dallas told his dad he’d go. He even squeezed her hand when he said it. It wasn’t that simple touch that sent Nikki’s heart into emotional hiccups. It wasn’t when Dallas’s dad apparently noticed that emotional moment and asked. “So you two are serious, huh?”

  It was Dallas’s answer that did Nikki in. “No. Just taking it a day at a time, Dad.”

  Her heart started sputtering out emotional storm warnings, because she realized the truth. She was falling in love with Dallas. Head over heels in love with a man who wouldn’t even promise her tomorrow. She told herself to pull back, and she tried. Really tried.

  By Mon
day morning, Dallas had asked her about six times if something was wrong. A believer in honesty and confronting problems head-on, she did what she had to. She lied like a big dog with its paws crossed. It wasn’t Dallas’s fault her life was a mess, or that she was emotionally vulnerable. And heck, perhaps when all the murder suspect crap went away, she might realize it wasn’t really love, just her drowning in problems and reaching out for a life preserver—needing someone to hold on to. And even with no promises for tomorrow, he was excellent at being a preserver.

  And that night, after they’d made love, she rolled over and said, “Don’t you think it’s time I go home?”

  “Nikki, I think in less than a week, I’ll have Andrew Brian behind bars. Give me that time. Stay here. Can’t we just enjoy this? Pretend we’re on vacation or something.”

  “And after vacation we go back to a normal life?” She waited for him to define normal.

  His hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Actually, I’d like you to find a different place to live. Your apartment’s a dump. If I’m not going to be around, I want to know you’re safe.”

  So he isn’t going to be around. “Safe is important.” She put her head on his chest and tried not to start missing him already.

  Later that morning, Dallas watched Nikki drive off and couldn’t fight the dread pulling at his gut. And not because she might be in physical danger. Nance was meeting her at the gallery again, and Dallas planned to stop by every few hours, plus Tony had patrol cars driving by regularly. More important, Andrew Brian was going to be busy answering Tony’s questions. Nope, it wasn’t the danger that worried Dallas. It was more. The way she kissed him and even the way she’d made love last night. As if her heart wasn’t in it.

  She swore nothing was wrong, but hell, he could see it in her eyes. What had he done? Or not done? But friggin’ hell, he liked Nikki. And the thought of her pulling away after having her close these last few days and making him happier than he’d been in forever, was a real kick in the balls.

  He continued to watch Nikki’s car get smaller. Then a realization took another swing at him. What the hell did he want? Wasn’t it two days ago that he was frightened about where things were leading? Now he was worried about where they wouldn’t lead. But shit, he was one fucked-up mess. Running a palm over his face, he knew he needed to figure some things out.