My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) (14 page)

At last she walked toward him, but instead of sitting beside him, she sank down next to Newton at the far end of the sofa.

"Oh, it
is
nice to sit down."

Okay, she wasn't close enough for him to easily reach her. It just meant he needed to take it slow. "Chores taking their toll on you?"

"I have to tell you, working on a ranch is better than any gym workout or exercise routine. I admire your stamina."

Stamina? Oh, she had no idea.

"I think I've sprouted muscles in new places."

He'd let that comment pass, too.

"Lunges have new meaning for me now."

Why did everything she say seem to have a double meaning? At this rate, he'd be drooling like a hormone-ridden teenaged boy by the time dinner was served. Time to change the subject. "Once the power and phone lines come back on, we should be able to get on the Internet to see whether the airport has reopened."

"Do you think they'll come back on tonight?"

"Probably not, but once things heat up in the morning, there's a good chance."

She reached out and scratched Newton behind his ears, then stood. "Those steaks aren't going to cook themselves."

"S'pose not." While he hadn't had the opportunity for any canoodling yet, at least she seemed more relaxed around him. He watched her retreat, feeling more than pleased with himself.

Now that he was behaving like the kind of person he respected, stealing another kiss from Lori was back on the table. Definitely on the table—or better yet, the sofa.

* * *

Lori took a step toward the kitchen. "Two steaks coming right up."

"There's no hurry. The potatoes will take awhile to cook."

She cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. "I'll at least get them ready. It might take a little bit to find the skillet you mentioned."

"It's in the lower right cabinet beside the stove."

"Thanks." She dashed into the kitchen.

At least she no longer believed he was mad at her. Monty Joe never seemed the least bit reluctant to express his disdain for what she'd done or hadn't done, and he hadn't said anything along those lines.

Maybe he was upset about the situation they found themselves in? Or maybe he was hungry?

That could be it.

But until she understood exactly what that uncertain something in his gaze was, she would remain on guard and do her best to keep her feelings in check.

She reached the stove, then stared down at the steaks, wishing she could mentally cook them.

How would Monty Joe feel about steak tartar?

If grilling them on the fire didn't work, that's what they'd be stuck with.

As much as she'd like to procrastinate and spend as much time in the kitchen as possible, the least she could do was put some kind of seasoning on the steaks, since she'd said she was going to get them ready.

Her sister Kelli always claimed that everything tasted better with a little garlic powder, so Lori held the lantern in one hand while she opened the cupboard door beside the stove. She found the garlic powder, salt and pepper and pulled them down. Then she stooped down to the lower right cabinet and found the iron skillet.

She placed it on the counter beside the steaks.

But that was as far as she could go. She stood, not moving, not doing anything, because her recent encounter with Monty Joe kept replaying in her mind.

That gaze. It reached something deep inside of her. And she hadn't wanted to admit it to herself at the time, but now that she was safely in the next room, she had the distance she needed to explore whatever had been awakened inside her.

A sunken feeling came over her.

Oh, this was not good.

She'd apparently leapt past the friend zone and into the falling-in-love region despite her best intentions.

No wonder she'd been terrified.

She ought to be.

If ever there was a recipe for personal disaster, she'd mixed it up in spite of careful steps and measurements.

Monty Joe was the last man on this planet she could allow herself to fall for. He might have learned to tolerate her presence, but he was a threat to her plans for the future, for her happiness, in every way.

Her heart raced, and her breathing came in gulps.

Maybe she should run upstairs and lock herself in the bedroom until morning?

No, the new Lori wouldn't take the coward's way out, no matter how enticing. She sighed.

In for a penny, in for one hundred and eighty-five pounds of long, tall cowboy.

Chapter 22

When Lori returned to the den, she was silent and withdrawn as she took her seat on the far end of the sofa. Monty Joe wasn't sure what was different about her attitude, nor exactly what it meant, but the change was apparent.

"Hungry?" he ventured.

"A little," she said, her eyes firmly fixed on the fire in front of them.

"Tired?"

"Yes."

She didn't say anything else.

Although he suspected that his brother, Bobby Gray, had received double the serving of the Nelson charm, it was a good thing that a large dose had been bestowed on Monty Joe, or so he'd been told, because it would take everything in his arsenal to coax Lori back out of her shell—and onto his side of the sofa.

Not that he wasn't up for the challenge. Challenges were his thing. Always had been, always would be.

Maybe a smidgeon of sweet talk was called for.

"You look pretty tonight. The firelight makes your hair shimmer."

She faced him, her brow drawn in confusion. "Thanks."

"Makes your eyes sparkle, too."

A dimple danced on her cheek. "Are you fishing for a compliment in return?"

"Nah. Just thought you should know that firelight becomes you."

"Monty Joe, you couldn't be more obvious." She cracked up in laughter, her hair flying forward as she bowed her head. "What chore do you want me to do now?"

This was not the reaction he'd been looking for.

"No more chores."

"Well, there's dinner."

"Not time to start the steaks yet. Maybe you should lean your head back and relax a little."

"I'm afraid if I relax too much, I'll fall asleep before I finish today's chores." She smiled. "I thought my job as a flight attendant kept me fit, but now I know otherwise."

"Considering you're a tenderfoot, you've held up very well."

"Another compliment? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to butter me up."

"I'm not trying to butter you up, but you have earned my respect these past couple of days. Not every woman would be able to roll up her sleeves and take care of a barn full of horses and a cantankerous cowboy."

Her smile grew broader. "Thank you. That's kind of you to say."

"I wasn't being kind. I was being honest." And it proved true. She'd proved him wrong about her on every count. But he hadn't planned a game of truth or dare. He just wanted another kiss.

While Lori seemed a little less tense, she hadn't slid any closer beside him.

So it was up to him to make the move.

First he stretched out his right arm along the length of the sofa, as far as it would go, and his fingertips just about reached her shoulder. He wasn't close enough to wrap an arm around her.

Next he held out the other arm as well and made a pretense of a big yawn, then scooched toward her.

Still not enough.

"I'm getting stiff," he said, grabbing his cane and rising to his feet before realizing exactly what he'd said. "I mean, I'm tired of sitting in one place."

He lifted his sore ankle up and down, wiggled his joints a bit. Then he plunked himself down on the middle cushion, a lot closer to Lori.

This time when he stretched out his arms, his right went directly behind her petite frame.

Now that was more like it.

Lori didn't say anything, so he left his arm straddling the sofa back, almost hugging her if he just moved his arm forward a bit.

Taking her lack of response as a positive step, he leaned in toward her.

Before he could gain an inch, she bounded from her seat as if she'd been struck by an ember shooting from the fire. "So, um, I'm going to go get the steaks now."

"You do that." He watched her sashay from the room, turning her head to shoot him a dazed look before turning the corner. Her eyes were large and dark, filled with a cloud of emotion. A smattering of confusion, of fear, and a great big ol' dash of desire. He'd bet his rodeo buckle on it.

He smiled to himself. Run, little girl, run. 'Cause the big bad cowboy is definitely after you.

Chapter 23

There was no doubt about it, Lori was in serious trouble. Monty Joe had been leaning in for a kiss.

And she'd panicked.

How could she go back into the den?

Did she even want to?

If something might develop between her and Monty Joe, did she want to cut it off before she'd even explored it?

What to do? What to do?

Her heart screamed at her to get back into that room and onto that sofa beside him. Her head hollered for her to get out of there before she lost her heart and senses entirely.

Then she made up her mind.

She was not a coward.

She left the steaks sitting on the kitchen counter and returned to the den. She marched right up to the sofa where Monty Joe was still sprawled out, and leaned forward across the back of the sofa. He turned his head, and she kissed him. Right then, right there.

And right about then and there her common sense fled, leaving her with only the sensation of being kissed by Monty Joe.

A real kiss. Not one to shut her up or calm her down.

A real, honest to goodness, I think I'm going to die and go to heaven, kiss.

Once he realized what she was up to, Monty Joe thoroughly got into the kiss. He reached up with his arms, nothing wrong with them, and somehow she found herself gently pulled over the sofa back and into his lap. How it happened, she had no clue, because his lips never left her own.

It was the kind of kiss that sonnets were written about. That love songs waxed poetic over. That reached inside you and pulled out the best you could be, now and in the future.

The kind of kiss that forever changed your relationship and you.

Her senses were all focused on Monty Joe. Only one tiny part of her brain registered a "meh, meh" in the background.

She couldn't, however, fail to register the weight that landed on her, nor the "omphf" sound coming from Monty Joe, because the weight that landed on her also landed on him.

"Newton!"

Jealous of the attention Lori was receiving from Monty Joe, the goat had jumped half on top of her to butt at Monty Joe's head. Or maybe Newton had aimed at Lori's head. But whomever's attention the goat wanted, he wanted it badly.