Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan

“I’m taking you.”

“But if you—”

He cut her off. “Look, I don’t want to go back to bed. I want to drive you. Got it?”

“Uh, sure. Got it.” She scraped the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “How was the party?”

“It was fine,” he said. His tone told her that the subject was closed, just in case she had any idea of trying to get maybe a sentence or two more out of him. So she left it alone.

A few minutes later, they climbed into Ethan’s SUV and were on their way.

In Bozeman, they spent about an hour each at the two restaurant supply places. After that, they visited a community co-op grocery, where there was also a deli. They had lunch there before moving on to their final stop, which was Safeway.

They were on the road back to Thunder Canyon at one-thirty. Lizzie was feeling really good about everything by then. Ethan had been sweet and helpful the whole trip. And she had managed to find everything she needed, which was a considerable relief.

At the house, Ethan helped her carry everything inside. When the back of the big SUV was finally empty and the granite counters in the kitchen were piled high with all she’d bought, he asked, “What else can I do?”

“Not a thing,” she told him. “You’re my favorite boss in the whole world and you have my undying gratitude.” She started emptying the bags—groceries first.

He came around the counter toward her. “I love it when you’re grateful.” He stopped inches away.

She could smell his aftershave, which was subtle and manly and whispered tastefully of money. Already, there was a shadow of dark beard on his sculpted cheeks. She paused with a flat of free-range eggs in her hands. “You know you’re directly between me and the fridge, right?”

“Oops.” He gave her one of his famous killer half smiles—and stayed where he was.

With a put-upon sigh, she eased around him and carried the eggs to the roomy side-by-side high-end refrigerator. When she shut the door and turned back to him, he hadn’t budged. He was still standing there, watching her. A shiver went through her, one way too much like the one she’d felt the day before, when they stood in the foyer together, after Erin and Erika left.

There were bags on every counter. She could so easily have just started on one of them—and steered clear of him. But that seemed downright cowardly somehow. What was the matter with her, anyway? Afraid to approach Ethan? Made no sense at all.

So she marched back around him and started on the next bag, hauling out a jar of cherry juice.

“Lizzie.” His big hand closed over her arm—zap. Like a light tap with a live electrical wire.

Seriously. This could not be happening.

She gritted her teeth and faced him. “What?”

“I’m leaving, don’t worry.” He spoke quietly now, in a low, burned-sugar voice. And he still had hold of her arm. In fact, he showed no inclination to let go. “I’ll get out of your way …”

By a sheer effort of will, she ignored the scary sensations that were zipping through her and muttered drily, “Promises, promises.”

“Just one thing …” His eyes were soft as kitten fur. Was he going to kiss her?

No way.

Gently, she eased her arm free of his hold and fell back a step.

There. Much better. She could breathe again. And the disorienting shivery feeling had passed. “Sure. What?”

“Tonight. The rehearsal dinner. I want you to come with me.”

She frowned. “But … I already bowed out on that one.”

“I know you did.” Now he was all eager and boyish and coaxing. “Change your mind. Come with me. Pete and my mom will be there. And my brothers and Rose. And Erin, of course. And Erika. They’re all crazy about you. It will be fun. And you can meet my cousins DJ and Dax, and their wives, Allaire and Shandie, and—”

“Ethan.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Is there something … going on with you?”

Now he was the one stepping back. At last. “Going on? What are you talking about?”

“Are you, um, putting moves on me or something?”

His mouth dropped open. “What the hell, Lizzie? What makes you think that?” He looked totally stunned at the very idea.

Which wasn’t the least bit flattering and also made her feel like a complete idiot for even suggesting such a thing. Heat flooded up her neck. She just knew her whole face was as red as the jar of cherry juice she still clutched in her hand.

She set the juice on the counter and whirled away from him. “Um …” She pressed her eyes shut, hard, willing away her ridiculous blush as well as her own embarrassment at the whole situation. “Sorry. Never mind, okay? Just … forget I asked.”

His hands, warm and so strong, closed over her shoulders—and there it was again, that quivery, scary feeling. She wanted to sink right through the floor. He said gently, “Lizzie …”

She asked again, “What is going on with you, Ethan?”

“Nothing. Come with me to the rehearsal dinner.”

She shrugged off his hands and made herself face him once more. “Look, I have a lot on my mind and a lot to do, okay?”

“Well, I know. But you won’t start on the cake until, like, the middle of the night or something, right? And you’ve got everything you need now to get the job done. I just thought, you know, why not take a break, come out and see the family?”

He was right, of course. Now the problem of assembling equipment and ingredients had been solved, she could make it to that dinner, no problem.

But she still felt that he was up to something. Even if he wasn’t putting moves on her. “You have some kind of plan. That’s it, isn’t it? You think that if you’re relentlessly charming and helpful and drag me with you everywhere you go, I’m going to give in and decide I don’t need to open my bakery, after all.” She kept her gaze on his handsome face as she spoke. And she saw how he glanced to the side. Yeah, it was only for a second, and then he was meeting her eyes again. But that slight shift away was enough. She knew then that she’d hit the old nail square on the head. “Hah,” she said. “That’s it. That is exactly what’s going on with you.”

“No. Wrong. That’s not true at all.” His square jaw was set and his eyes flashed with annoyance.

“Don’t lie to me, Ethan. I know what you’re doing.”

“How do you know that? Next you’ll be claiming you can read my mind.”

“We have an agreement. That’s not going to change.”

“It might.” He smiled then. A slow smile. The smile of a man who never let anything stand in his way when he wanted something, a man used to getting what he wanted in pretty much everything eventually. “You never know.”

“Ethan, are you listening?”

“Of course.”