Texas Wedding. Nancy Thompson Robards
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Название: Texas Wedding
Автор: Nancy Thompson Robards
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Shane was only a customer, after all. Not someone who should fluster her.
“Please don’t worry about it,” he said. “No harm. No foul. Now, if I’d been wearing my Dallas Mavericks jersey, that would’ve been another matter all together.”
“Lucky me. It’s not game day.”
“Yeah. Lucky you.”
She felt her hot skin blanch, until he grinned and winked at her. Then her cheeks went all hot again.
“The stain is drying to look like a bad tie-dye job,” she said.
He gazed down at the soiled area. “I haven’t worn a tie-dyed shirt since I was a teenager.”
“Well, there you go. Merry Christmas, a few months early. Here, let me get a pen and some paper and I’ll get your information for my grandmother.”
He tried to wave her off. “Let’s not. Please? Just tell her I left before you could get it.”
“Are you kidding me? You saw how my grandmother is. I’m not going to cross her again. So, wait right there.” Playfully, she pointed at him. “That’s an order.”
She grabbed a pen from her purse and picked up a napkin. She turned back to him, half expecting to see him walking away, but he was still there. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t stomped off in a furious huff—as if normal people actually stomped. Of course not. Only her grandmother did things like that. The fact remained that Shane was standing there, making light of her faux pas. At that moment, something inside of her shifted.
Besides being a very good-looking man, he seemed like a good man. If for no other reason than that, she wanted to get to know him better.
“Here,” she said, handing him the napkin and pen. “Write down your size, the brand of shirt you like—make it something expensive since Grandmother is paying. Also, write down your apartment number and your phone number. I am going to fix you dinner since I put you through all this trouble. I’ll call you and we can figure out what day this week would be good.”
He regarded her for a moment. Then he tore the napkin in half and handed a piece to her.
“I’ll need your number then. If I’m giving you my number, you have to give me yours. Call me old-fashioned, but I think the man should be the one to call and arrange the first date.”
“Date?” AJ sputtered. Did he think she was asking for his number to call and ask him out? She tried to think of a witty retort, something to put them back on level ground, but his words, “Call me old-fashioned,” resonated in her head.
“What? You don’t want to go out with me?” He frowned. “Are you rejecting me? Do you have a prejudice against men who smell like barbecue sauce?”
She loved the mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. Those eyes—with their green and brown and amber flecks—were almost hypnotizing.
“I don’t remember you asking me for a date. The last I remember is my offer to cook for you. What? You don’t like my cooking?”
Shane smiled and picked up one of the Tailgater sliders. He took a bite and chewed. AJ couldn’t help herself, her gaze dropped to his lips and for a moment, she lost herself, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.
But then he swallowed the bite, and her gaze skittered back up to meet his. Their eyes locked.
“If today is any indication of your talents, I’m fairly certain I’ll fall in love with your cooking. But why don’t we start with a first date?”
Chapter Four
Shane couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked a woman out on a date. Sure, he’d enjoyed his fair share of feminine company over the years, but as far as asking someone out... It had been a long time since the traditionalist he’d claimed to be had surfaced as it had today.
The folded half napkin she’d written her number on was in his front right pocket. After he unlocked his truck and slid behind the wheel he reached in his pocket and took it out again.
The leather seats were warm, the heat penetrating through the legs of his jeans. Still, he sat there for a moment gazing at the black ink on the napkin, the numbers that would connect him to AJ.
But before that could happen, he had to get home and get the smell of barbecue sauce off him before it became his permanent scent.
He tucked away her phone number in the car’s console, turned the ignition key and the engine purred to life.
As the light turned green at the corner, he noticed that the hoodlums who were hanging out earlier were gone. However, right before Shane accelerated to get through the intersection, the same dog he’d seen loping through traffic as he walked to the square darted in front of his car.
He slammed on the brakes just in time, narrowly missing the mutt.
Did that family have a death wish for their dog? Surely, they didn’t. Maybe the animal was the crafty sort that got out despite their efforts to contain him, a regular Houdini.
Or maybe he was just an animal with wanderlust who hated to be confined. He could relate to that.
Shane pulled over and got out. He couldn’t just let the dog wander. No, the least he could do was see the dog home safely. Maybe the boys hadn’t closed the back gate or had inadvertently let him out as they started a new game of ball. Whatever the case, Shane decided, he would hand the dog over to an adult who would look after the creature.
By the time Shane got to the sidewalk, the dog was trotting along about thirty yards ahead. Shane whistled and to his surprise, the mutt turned and sprinted back to him.
The smelly animal jumped up on Shane’s legs, licking at the stain on the front of his shirt.
“Down, boy! Sit.” Shane put up a knee to discourage the jumping. Surprisingly, the dog obeyed and lowered himself to his haunches, calmly panting and looking up at Shane.
“We need to get you home before you get hurt.” He tested the dog’s demeanor by holding out his closed hand, which the dog sniffed and then licked. Shane gave him a few strokes, and then took a hold of the mutt’s collar, which, he noticed, had no tags. The good-natured animal trotted alongside Shane the entire two blocks to the house where he’d seen the boys shooting hoops. They weren’t in the driveway anymore. So Shane guided the dog up the bricked path onto the porch where he rang the doorbell.
A man who looked to be in his forties opened the door.
“Excuse me, but your dog has gotten out again,” Shane said. “I almost hit him. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
The man looked confused and shook his head. “That’s not my dog. We don’t have any pets. Wife’s allergic.”
Shane looked from the man to the dog then back again to the man. “But I saw your boys playing with him out in the driveway earlier this afternoon.”
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