Falling For A Cowboy (11 page)

Standing there
,
with a grin the size of a Pecos canyon
,
stood Clay
.
Whitey barked and squirmed in her arms
.
Heaven help her
. S
he wasn
’
t fit for any company much less the handsome cowboy on the other side of the door. She set Whitey down for a minute and began to finger comb her hair as she bit down on her lip to give it some color. Damn.

“
Dusty, it
’
s me. Clay.
”

“
I
’
ll be right with you
,
Clay.
”
She side-stepped to the mirror near the door and prayed he wouldn
’
t
peek
in
.
Why hadn
’
t she kept her trim appointment at the
Classy and Sassy Hair
Salon yesterday?
She looked like the bride of Frankenstein.
A brush
?
She pulled one from
her
large
leather
purse sitting on the nearby table
.
He always commented
on
her hair.

H
er cell phone chirp
ed
from the bottom of her bag. So
meone had called. It wouldn
’
t have been Clay
.
S
he hadn
’
t given him her number
.
She pinched her cheeks for color and fumbled for a lipstick while Whitey attempted to bring down the house with his barking.

“
Are you going to answer the door?
”
Clay yelled
over the noise
.

She swiped on the lipstick and smoothed out her sweats
.
They were so big on her it looked like they
’
d swallowed her whole.
It couldn
’
t be helped
.
Maybe he
’
d get so turned off by the sight of her, he
’
d give up
.
And why she cared
,
she wouldn
’
t examine.

Picking
up
the dog
again
, she
opened the door
to the
sultry
heat of a West Texas summer day
.
S
ix feet of gorgeous cowboy
greeted her
. Those blue eyes of his glimmered in the sunlight like
the
water
of the
Mediterranean
Sea
. He wasn
’
t wearing his hat
. Thick and shiny,
a lock of wavy brown hair
fell over one brow giving him a
bad-boy
look.
He
’
d braced a well-muscled arm
against the side of the doorway
stretching his
white T-shirt
over his chest
to
reveal every plane, curve
,
and crevice
.
His
denims
hugged
thighs used to clinging to a horse and
his
bedroom eyes
looked
her over from head to toe
. H
er insides turned the consistency of oatmeal. Whitey quieted
,
as if he was too interested in the sight before him to worry about protecting
anyone
.

“
Cute puppy
,
”
Clay said, nodding toward the dog
.
Recognizing he was the center of attention, Whitey started barking again
,
but this time the yips were half-hearted.

Clay held out a hand for the dog to sniff
.
Whitey obliged and gave
Clay
’
s
hand a quick lick
with his tiny pink tongue
.
Some protector.

“
He
’
s not a puppy
.
Whitey
’
s
almost ten
.
”

“
You mean that
’
s as big as he gets?
”

“
Yep.
”
Like me.

Clay gave Whitey
’
s head a
gentle
pat and rubbed his ears to
her dog
’
s
evident delight
.
“
Friendly
little thing.
”

“
Sometimes.
What are you doing here, Clay
?
”
And how did you find me?
She
held Whitey closer to her chest and waited for his answer.

He graced her with a lopsided smile.
“
I
’
ve a favor to ask of you
.
Can I come in
?
”

L
etting a strange man into her house hardly seemed the smart thing to do, but
her gut wasn
’
t sending her any negative signals.
Besides she was curious what he was doing here
.
At her house.
On a Friday night.

“
Tara
Lynn
said she
’
d call ahead
,
”
Clay prompted.

That explained her beeping cell phone
.
W
hy hadn
’
t
Tara
Lynn
just called the house
?
Because she wanted Dusty to be surprised
?
Sometimes
Tara
Lynn
tested
their friendship something awful.

“
She must have tried my cell phone. Come on in.
”
Dusty moved aside as Whitey wriggled to get down
.
Probably wanted to sniff Clay all over.
Dusty couldn
’
t blame him
.
Scents of sandalwood and leather gre
e
ted her as she
moved
aside and
set
Whitey on the floor
.
Clay stepped in and t
rue to form the dog began sniffing
at the man
’
s black croc
odile
boots
.

She closed the door behind him and when she turned around, there was Whitey nestled snugly in Clay
’
s arms
,
licking his face.
Traitor.

“
I
’
m not that familiar with small dogs
,
but I can see why people like them.
”
Clay nodded at the white ball of fluff.

“
Yeah.
He
’
s a prince,
”
Dusty said, motioning Clay toward the sofa.
She was glad
she hadn
’
t had much time to trash the place since her
mother
’
s departure
on Wednesday. It still carried Deidre Morgan
’
s tidy stamp.

Clay
sauntered forward
, moving with an animal
’
s grace
.
His tall form made her feel small
and
the room
even
smaller
.
It had been a while since a man had sat among the delicate la
ce and
floral
prints that
fille
d their living room
.
Even when her father had been alive, he
’
d seemed out of place amid the feminine decorations her mother favored
.
But he
’
d never said a word against them
.
He
’
d always noticed
a new doodad her mother had added to her burgeoning collection of knickknacks, always
made a point to tell
her how good it was to be home with his girls.

The flowered
cushions plump
ed
around
Clay as he settled onto the sofa
.
Whitey nestled
i
n his lap, right there in the man
’
s crotch, like it was the most natural thing in the world
.

“
He seems to have taken right to you
,
”
Dusty said as she sat in
a
large wing chair covered in pink and green chintz
.
She couldn
’
t keep the wonder out of her voice.

Clay
’
s expression was one of mild amusement.
“
More than I can say for his mistress.
”

She leveled her gaze at him.
“
So what bring
s
you here
,
Clay
?
”
Remembering her manners, she added,
“
And can I get you something to drink
?
”

He shook his head.
“
No. Not yet at least.
”
He shifted in his seat and petted the dog as if reluctant to answer her question. She waited, watching the gentle way his hand floated over her tiny, comfortable dog
.
She
’
d be comfortable too
,
snuggled
up against him like that
.
Mustn
’
t let her
thoughts
go
in that direction. Not here, alone
with him
in the house.

“
Where
’
s Jesse?
”
She realized she should have asked that right off
.
“
Is he all right?
”

Clay nodded
.
“
He will be. Turns out he did break
a
rib
,
but nothing else.
”

“
I
’
m glad you talked him into being x-rayed.
”

“
Wasn
’
t me
.
I
’
ve never been able to
talk
a lick of sense into him
.
My mother read him the riot act. Few can deny
Kate
Tanner when she sets her mind to
something
.
”
His smile was broad and his eyes
danced
at the mention of his mother
.
She imagined
the woman had to be a pistol
with a son like Clay
.
He wouldn
’
t have been an easy boy to
raise
.
No doubt
he
’
d been
f
ull of mischief and manipulative as the devil.
“
She also isn
’
t let
ting
him out of her sight
.
He
’
s back home mending.
He sends
his
regards.
”

She
refused to
ask
Clay
a
gain what he
was doing here
.
She
’
d already done that twice
.
So she waited. He continued to pet the dog
. Whitey
looked like he was ready to go to sleep in his new haven.