His Country Cinderella. Karen Smith Rose

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      “Okay. Pick out two favorites and dump them on the coffee table.”

      Jeannette took a few bites of her sandwich and a sip of milk, planning to finish it while she played with Jonah. But there was a knock at the door and she stopped midbite. She and Jonah didn’t get many visitors. They weren’t here that much. She was on a waving basis with two of her neighbors. Maybe one of them needed something.

      Going to the door, she looked through the peephole and froze. It was Zane Gunther!

      So many thoughts ran through her head. Why was he here? Was he here because he wanted to see her again? Or was he here to sum things up before he left her life completely?

      She looked down at her uniform and wished she could go change, even if it was to put a robe on top of it. But she didn’t have time for that. Not if she didn’t want him to leave.

      When she opened the door, his eyes lingered on her face. Their gazes held for what seemed like a very long time. When he glanced at her snug but short T-shirt and the rest of her, she saw his mouth tighten and his jaw set.

      Maybe he disapproved as much as Edna. Or maybe—

      His eyes darkened under the glare of the outside apartment light. She’d seen that same change in him last night right before he’d kissed her.

      She stepped aside and opened the door wider. “This is a surprise.” Knowing who he was made her nervous, when she hadn’t been jittery around him before.

      After he closed the door behind him, he took off his Stetson and held it in his hands. “I didn’t know if you’d let me in now that you know who I am.”

      He was dressed in a black T-shirt, black jeans and black boots that weren’t as worn as his brown ones. The air of masculinity emanating from him was as powerful now as it had been the first day she’d met him. Her fingers itched to touch his biceps, let alone the beard stubble on his face. No wonder women mobbed him in droves!

      “I don’t know you,” she admitted. “Not really.”

      Tension pulled between them and vibrated. “I wanted to be an ordinary guy for a little while. I still do.”

      “But you’re not an ordinary guy.”

      Jonah rushed into the kitchen then. “Zane! You can help with puzzles!”

      Zane tore his eyes from hers and ruffled the boy’s already-disheveled hair. “Life’s one big puzzle, partner. But I guess I can try and help you figure one out, if your mom thinks that’s okay.”

      He leveled a look at her that seemed to say, This is your call.

      Common sense battled with the attraction she felt for him. She’d never let hormones sway her before. On the other hand, what could it hurt to find out more about him? About the man behind the guitar.

      A wise voice inside her head whispered back, It could hurt your heart a lot.

      She silenced that voice. “I’ll make a pot of coffee. Why don’t you two get started?”

       Chapter Three

      Jeannette watched Zane carefully as he picked up a puzzle piece and showed Jonah how to look for straight and crooked edges. He looked relaxed now, leaning over the coffee table with her son. She couldn’t keep her gaze from skimming down his torso, over his slim hips and his long jean-clad legs.

      Easily, she remembered everything she’d read about Zane for the last decade of his career—number one singles, Grammys, CMA awards for Best Male Vocalist, sellout concerts, a multimillion-dollar tour cut short. Curiously, she’d examined photos of him with glamorous women, climbing in and out of limos, even a helicopter flight to one of the concerts. She’d never even seen a helicopter live, let alone been in one. The same with a limo.

      So why was he here in her living room, spending time with her and her son? And what was the truth about what had happened at the concert and how he’d reacted afterward? She had so many questions and she didn’t know if she’d ever have the answers.

      When Zane glanced her way, her outfit almost made her cringe. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes. I’ll be right back.”

      Quickly, she mentally flashed through her wardrobe which wasn’t that extensive, and in a few minutes came up with a pink scoop-necked sweater and jeans. After she slipped on an old pair of espadrilles, she took the band from her hair and brushed it. With a touch of lip gloss, she knew she was about as ready as she’d ever be—to face Zane, his private and public persona and anything he wanted to tell her.

      As she reentered the living room, Zane nudged Jonah’s shoulder. “Doesn’t your mom look pretty?”

      Jonah stared at her for a couple of seconds, then glanced back at Zane. “She looks like she always does.”

      Although she’d first been embarrassed, Jonah’s remark helped her smile when Zane chuckled. “Kids say it like it is,” Zane decided with a shrug. “You must be pretty all the time.”

      She was twenty-eight years old and shouldn’t feel like a shy teenager, but she did, especially now that she knew who he was. Did glib remarks fly off his tongue easily? Was that honesty she saw in his eyes? Or practiced flirting? How would she ever know?

      Once Jeannette was seated on the sofa beside Zane, she helped Jonah put together the last few pieces of the puzzle.

      “You didn’t eat.” Zane motioned to her sandwich, half eaten, on the dish on the coffee table.

      “I had enough.”

      His brows arched.

      She felt she had to explain. “Sometimes I’m just too tired to eat when I get home. Or too busy.”

      “Jeannette, you have to—”

      “I know what you’re going to say. But I did sample a new recipe for wings at the restaurant, and a square of bread pudding, too.

      “That’s what you had to eat all day?”

      “And breakfast. Jonah and I had scrambled eggs, toast and a little bit of fruit.”

      “Mom makes great eggs.”

      “I’ll bet she does. Ready to start on that second puzzle?”

      Jonah looked at Jeannette with one of those “little boy” looks that told her he wanted something. She waited.

      Finally, he asked, “Can Zane read me a book?”

      Zane seemed to know intuitively what to do. He gave her a little nod, showing her he was game.

      “It’s a book or a puzzle. Then you do have to go to bed.”

      “Oh, Mom. It’s late night.”

      “Yes, I know, and it’s already getting late. One or the other. You choose.”

      After СКАЧАТЬ