The Trouble with Texas Cowboys (Burnt Boot, Texas #2)(56)

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. “Don’t underestimate yourself, darlin’. Once you got over the fear, and the anger set in, you’d have kicked ass. How can you love those kittens if they remind you of the fear?”

“It’s weird, but they are so cute and funny. Maybe they are the sign that I definitely do not want to get mixed up with either family,” she said.

“They won’t quit,” he said. “And what’s this about pork rinds and doggy treats? I love pork rinds, and my sister buys those chips all the time for her spoiled little rat of a dog.”

She fit in his arms perfectly. He shouldn’t fight the urge to take it past a few kisses to the next step. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten how to date. He’d gone out lots of times and even considered a serious relationship once.

The timer on the oven sounded, and for a split second, Sawyer thought his phone was ringing. They both hopped up at the same time.

“Breakfast is ready. I’ll get the plates if you’ll make the toast,” she said.

“Why? Do you burn toast? I’m not surprised that someone as hot as you can burn bread by touching it,” he flirted.

She slapped at his arm, deliberately missing. “That’s a pickup line. Not a bad one, either. How many women have heard that?”

“Well, there was Delilah, Gloria, Letitia, Julie, Darcy, should I go on? I’m not sure I can recollect how many women have burned bread for me.”

Jill pushed him into the kitchen. “Well, scalding-hot cowboy, get on in there, and let’s see if you can burn toast.”

*

He had asked about pork rinds and Chicken Chips, and Jill had managed to dodge that bullet by changing the subject. But now he was probably thinking of all those tall, beautiful blonds and brunettes he’d dated and wishing that he was having breakfast with them instead of a spitfire redhead that had admitted she had been scared shitless.

That’s what friends do. They tell each other how they feel, she thought, hoping it might quiet the voice in her head before it ever got started. But the voice had to throw its two cents into the ring. You went past the friend stage the first time he kissed you. Deal with it. You are attracted to him, and he’s definitely been flirting, she argued. But Sawyer could have any woman anywhere. Right now he could move to Wild Horse or River Bend, ranch to his heart’s content, and have anything he wants. They are both beautiful women, and, dammit, I’m working myself up into a jealous rage.

The irritating voice didn’t have a comeback, which aggravated Jill even more. She pulled the oven omelet out and set it on a hot pad in the middle of the table, put out plates and silverware, and refilled their coffee cups.

Sawyer winked at her when the second round of toast popped up. “I must have lost my power. It’s perfectly browned, not burnt. Hey, you mentioned retail therapy yesterday. Have you ever ordered flowers online?”

Dammit to hell and back on a rusty old poker. He’d decided to send flowers to one of those hot women of his past.

“Yes, I have. I send them to my mom in Kentucky all the time,” she said. “It’s easy peasy. You key in your credit card numbers after you pick out what you want, tell them the date you need it delivered, and hit send.”

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry and even the coffee tasted horrible.

“Can they even get flowers to Comfort, Texas?” he asked. “That’s pretty far back in the woods.”

His old flame was about to get a second chance.

“Don’t know the logistics of the whole business, but they get them there when they say they will. I expect they pick out the nearest florist, and believe me, for the price you pay, they can afford to cough up the delivery fee.”

He set the plate of toast on the table and hurried to his room, returning with a laptop. “Okay, show me the place you use.”

He’d already gotten online, so she went straight for the site, and he picked out the biggest bouquet of red roses offered, typed in all the information, and hit the “send” button. “Wow, that is fantastic. My sister is going to be so surprised when they arrive at her house in a couple of hours.”

“Your sister?” Jill spit out.

“Today is her birthday. Let’s eat before it gets cold. I’m starving, and there’s chores waiting for us to do.” He dipped deeply into the egg casserole and picked up two pieces of toast. “It’s already buttered, and there’s apple butter and grape jam in the fridge if you want it. As for me, I’m planning on a second helping of this scrumptious-lookin’ casserole rather than having extra toast with jelly.”

Sawyer’s sister and Jill were two happy women.

“So is your sister younger than you?”

Sawyer shook his head, swallowed, and sipped his coffee. “Oh, no. She’s the oldest of four, and bossed us boys around like she was the Queen of Sheba. She was twelve when I was born, so she thought she had as much power over me as Mama. She still likes to boss me, since I’m the only single one left in the family. And believe me, if I forgot her birthday, the sun would fall from the sky.”

“Her name?”

“Martina, and my brothers are Hugh and Kevin. Mama is Latino. Daddy is Irish. They made an agreement that Mama could name the girls with names from her heritage, and Daddy could give the boys Irish names.”