Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(34)

I wanted to appear nonchalant, but at the mere sight of him, my body betrayed me. Anticipation zinged through my veins. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I managed to swallow the knot in my throat, although as much as I was salivating, I wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel so parched.

Then I noticed my nipples straining against my white cotton dress. One look at Cowboy and he was already screwing with my hormones again.

Bobbie Jo looked up as I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered. She quirked an eyebrow. “It’s almost ninety degrees out here, Anna. Don’t tell me you’re cold.”

“Um, a little?” My reply sounded like a question.

She reached into the backseat of her truck and pulled out a blue jean jacket, tossing it to me. “Here you go. Put this on.”

“Thanks,” I said, slipping the jacket on and cuffing the sleeves up to my elbows.

I was going to burn in hell for lying to my friend. Didn’t matter, though. It was the equivalent to wearing a jacket in ninety-degree Texas heat, anyway.

“Hey, fellas,” Bobbie Jo yelled out, waving at the men.

Cowboy turned his head toward us, did a double take, then a stoic expression crossed his face as he looked away. I was pretty sure I even saw his lips move inaudibly with something that very closely resembled “sonofabitch.” I guess his interest level had cooled considerably since our last encounter.

Unfortunately, I’d seen this sudden change in attitude and behavior before in other men. And it always happened after each of them had witnessed one thing in particular: my scars. Which was going to make this fun get-together a complete and utter disaster.

Lovely.



I added the last pieces of cut-up raw bacon to the pot of pinto beans and washed my hands, admiring the antique milk glass bottles in the window over the kitchen sink. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes,” she replied, never looking up from the potato she was peeling. “You can start calling me Floss.”

I turned and smiled at her, though she didn’t see it. The kind, little old lady sitting at the island in the kitchen was adorably sweet. She reminded me of Popeye’s Olive Oil, except her hair was gray and she was shorter than even me. She kept her hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck, and even through the handmade blue jean dress, I could see how stick-thin she was.

“Okay, Floss. Anything else I can help with?”

She pulled another potato from the bag and began peeling. “No, dear. You’ve been helping since you arrived. I think you’ve done plenty already.”

“I can peel these potatoes for you. I’m happy to help,” I said, reaching for one. “I don’t mind at all.”

She swatted my hand. Hard. “You sure don’t,” Floss stated firmly. “I said you’re done. Now don’t make me tell you again, young lady.”

I blinked, not sure what to make of her harsh tone.

Unfazed, Floss went back to work peeling the potato. “You’re a guest in my home, dear, and guests shouldn’t be doing all the work.”

Bobbie Jo sat at the nearby kitchen table with a smile on her face. “I warned you Floss was going to get onto you if you didn’t sit down.”

True. But she didn’t say the old woman would turn physically violent.

Emily stepped into the room with one hand up her shirt, adjusting her bra. “Okay, I fed Lily, and she’s out like a light.”

“Do you need me to move Austin?” Bobbie Jo asked her. “He fell asleep on my shoulder, so I laid him in Lily’s playpen.”

“Nah. I put her in the bassinet and wheeled her over beside him in the living room. They look so cute sleeping next to each other.”

“Aww,” Bobbie Jo said, leaning to catch a peek of the little ones sleeping together.

“Bet you two mommas won’t be saying that in another twenty years or so,” Floss said, giving me a knowing smile.

“Oh, jeez,” Emily said with a laugh. “Jake loves Austin like his own son, but he’ll kill that boy if he comes anywhere near Lily after puberty.”

“Cowboy swears it’s going to happen,” Bobbie Jo said, grinning.

At the mention of his name, I felt my body warm. “Well, they are so close in age,” I told them, nodding in agreement. “It’s probably kismet.”

“Nope, it’s all in God’s hands.” Floss winked at me. Then she gestured to a pitcher of iced tea and a pack of clear plastic cups on the counter. “Now that the babies are down for their naps, why don’t you three take some iced tea out to the fellas? I’ll keep an eye on the young’uns.”

Emily lifted the pitcher as Bobbie Jo reached for the stack of cups, leaving nothing for me to carry. And I desperately needed something to hold onto with my shaky hands. I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to face Cowboy after what happened between us.

“I could stay behind and help with—” Floss cut her eyes to me, daring me to finish my sentence. “Okay. Well, if you’re sure…”

I was anything but.

To busy my trembling hands, I opened the back door off the kitchen and allowed Emily and Bobbie Jo to walk out first while I peeked over the railing. On the ground, the men all congregated around an old barrel-style smoker, where Hank was basting huge slabs of beef he must’ve put on the grill before we’d arrived.