Blame It On Texas

She looked into his lively blue-gray eyes. “I did.”

“Until…?” Lewis asked.

Lexie tried not to think what he would look like without the sexy wire-rimmed glasses. She swallowed hard. “A few months ago.”

He stretched out his long, jean-clad legs. “What happened?”

She sighed, relieved to finally be able to bare her soul to someone impartial. “Nothing out of the ordinary, really. There was no great epiphany or anything like that.”

The way Lewis was looking at her, as if he really wanted to understand her, prompted her to continue. “I just got tired of always being on a plane, always being at the whim of a client—a hundred clients, actually. I stopped waking up every morning wanting to go to work and meet the challenges ahead. Instead, I had to pull myself out of bed.”

Tenderness radiated from his slight smile. “Maybe you just need a rest.”

And maybe, Lexie thought wearily, pushing both hands through her hair, she needed a new life. Although what she would do, besides being a celebrity stylist, she didn’t know. Thanks to the fact she had dropped out of college to follow Constantine Romeo to Hollywood, she wasn’t prepared to do anything else. Besides, who gave up a lucrative six-figure career and professional acclaim to find themselves? She was remarkably successful for a twenty-seven-year-old. She’d be considered a fool for even trying to find something else to do for a living.

Lewis drained his bottle and put it aside. “Have you said any of this to Jenna or your dad?”

“No.” Lexie traced the condensation on the outside of her water bottle with the tip of her index finger.

He touched the back of her hand with the back of his. “How do you think he would react?”

She luxuriated in the warmth of skin to skin. “He’d be relieved.”

“Because he doesn’t want you tending to celebrities,” Lewis guessed.

Lexie bit her lip. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He turned toward her slightly, to better see her face.

Lexie began to pace the carpeted room. “My father thinks my profession is a joke, that in helping celebrities develop an individual style and image that I’m perpetuating at best a myth, and at worst, fraud.”

“Ouch!” Lewis tugged facetiously at the frayed neckline of his band-collared shirt as if it were choking him.

Happy to have someone understand how outrageous her father’s views were, Lexie stopped trying to contain her emotions. “He’s basically said if a person doesn’t know what to wear, or how to present themselves, then they have more problems than I can solve for them.”

Lewis winced. “When did he say this?”

She shrugged. “Five years ago, when my business really started taking off.”

Lewis got to his feet. “Because of the work you did for Constantine Romeo?” he asked, coming toward her.

Lexie nodded and headed back to the kitchen, this time to the cabinets next to the stove. She rummaged through them, until she found a box of saltines on the uppermost shelf. When she couldn’t quite snag it, Lewis reached up and got it for her. “That’s another sore subject between us,” she allowed, their fingertips brushing as he handed her the box.

He lounged against the cabinets, watching her open a wax packet and withdraw several crackers. “They didn’t get along?”

She offered him some, too. “My dad never forgave Constantine for taking me to Hollywood with him. Or me, for running off with him.” As always, the bland flavor of the cracker comforted her finicky tummy.

“You were just nineteen at the time.”

Lexie hunted in the fridge to see if there was any cheddar cheese. To her disappointment, there wasn’t. She got the peanut butter out instead. “Believe me, I know.”

“Regrets?” Lewis asked softly.

“More than you can count,” she admitted as she spread peanut butter on several crackers.

He smiled. “But that’s how we learn, right? By our mistakes.”

“You betcha.”

They both ate six or seven crackers. The silence between them was at once companionable, and fraught with a new tension that Lexie preferred not to identify. “How are you feeling?” Lewis asked finally.

She took a long drink, then shared what was left of her water with him. “The truth?”

He nodded, holding her eyes.

“Sleepy.”

He pushed away from the counter reluctantly. “Then I should be going.”

For some reason, Lexie did not want him to leave. Not yet. “What time is it?” she asked.

Lewis glanced at his watch. “Nearly four.”

“You must be tired, too,” she commiserated.

He shrugged.

“Want to stay and sack out on the couch?” The words were out before she could stop them.

Lewis paused.

Letting him know this was a strictly platonic move on her part, she teased, “I’d offer you the bed if I thought you’d take it.”

Desire lit up his blue-gray eyes. “Only if you’re in it, too.”

Lexie gasped. “Lewis!” she chided as heat filled her face.

He looked her square in the eye. “I may be a computer geek up here—” he pointed to his head “—but I’m a man down here.” He indicated the rest of him.

As if she hadn’t already secretly noticed how well he filled his jeans. Wishing he didn’t look so damn sexy Lexie looked away. “I’m beginning to realize that,” she said drolly.

“And you’ve already had one rough couple of days.” Lewis reached up to gently touch her face. His thoughts undoubtedly amorous, he looked down at her tenderly and caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

Doing her best to slow her racing heart, she bantered back carelessly, “So you’re not offering to seduce me?” And why did she suddenly wish he were? Just because she had been totally in awe of him in their youth, did not mean they were right for each other.

“Not tonight.” Lewis bent his head, kissed her gently—and far too briefly. Not that this lessened the impact of his caress in any way. The feel of his lips brushing ever so sweetly over hers inundated Lexie with a longing unlike anything she had ever felt or imagined she could feel. An explosion of pleasure and need went off inside her, and she looked at him. What was happening here? Lexie wondered, struggling not to go up on tiptoe and kiss him back. She couldn’t be attracted to Lewis McCabe, could she? He wasn’t even her type. She fell for the smooth ones. The ones with all the lines. Not the ones who were so challenged in the wardrobe and personal style department it would take her professional guidance to get him straightened out; and even longer to make him into the complete babe magnet she knew he already was. At least to her. She privately admitted she didn’t want every other woman in his orbit feeling the same way.

Lexie caught herself up short. Aware she had already veered into dangerous territory, she said, “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be the one consulting with you on your new look.” It was too close to what she had done before. Taking on a man, making him her personal project. Helping him become everything he could be, only to have him leave her in the end. She did not want to go through that again. And she especially did not want to do that here in Laramie, Texas, under the watchful eyes of both their families.