One Ticket To Texas

“I’m anxious to have some great-grandkids before I kick the bucket. Not a single one of my grandsons is married. Ain’t natural. Kyle tells me you’re going to read to me some.”

“If you’d like.”

“Course I’d like,” Pete said. “Just cause I’m older’n dirt don’t mean I can’t appreciate the company of a beautiful young lady.”

“What would you like for me to read?”

Pete picked up the book lying on the bed beside him and handed it to her. “I’d like to hear the rest of this. I was near ’bout finished when my eyes played out. Need new glasses, but it will be a while before I can get to the eye doctor now that I busted my hip. Kyle says he’ll take me in a couple of weeks.”

Irish looked at the big volume. “John Grisham’s newest. You a fan of his?”

“He’s right good when I’m in the mood for his kind of book. I read purt near everything from shoot ‘em ups to philosophy. My grandkids know I like readin’ so I get a lots of books for Christmas and the like. Marker’s where I left off.”

She opened the book at the page where the tasseled leather strip lay and started to read the last few chapters.

Kyle stood at the door and listened to Irish’s beautifully modulated voice as she read to the old man. John Grisham had never sounded so exciting to him.

Or so sexy.

He didn’t pay much attention to the words of the narrative, only her tone, which oozed over him like warm buttered honey. When a bit of dialogue came, she changed her voice slightly to take on the character, then switched back to the slow, sensual utterances.

At last she paused, then said, “The end.”

Grandpa Pete cackled. “A million dollars! Yes, siree, a million dollars. No. Make that two million.”

Irish laughed, and Kyle rushed in before his grandfather started writing out a check. Pete was very generous with people he liked. “I see that you two are getting along,” Kyle said.

“Like a house afire,” Pete said. “This one’s a keeper. Danged if she can’t make that book come alive as good as one of them New York actresses.”

“I heard,” Kyle said. “You are very good. Ever consider acting?”

“Early on,” Irish replied. “I majored in drama for two years, but I dropped out of college and went into modeling instead.”

“Modeling?” Pete asked. “I thought Kyle said you was a writer.”

“I am. I don’t do modeling anymore.”

“Was you in the magazines like that Cindy Crawford or Claudia what’s-her-name, that foreign gal?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t quite in their league. How do you know about Cindy and Claudia?”

The old man winked. “Told you I read purt near everything. Even look at one of them women’s magazines now and then. You know, now that I think on it, I believe I’ve seen your picture somewheres.”

“Not for a couple of years. Would you like to start another book?”

“Not right now. I think I’ll take a little nap or maybe watch Oprah. You and Kyle run along and get better acquainted.” He winked meaningfully at Irish again. “If you know what I mean.”

She laughed. “Not on your life.”

As Irish and Kyle walked downstairs, he asked, “What is my grandfather up to now? He hasn’t made any indecent proposals has he?”

“No. We were just joking. He offered me a million dollars if I would marry you. Then he upped it to two.”

“My God!”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t take him seriously. I know that the proceeds from this place and his monthly Social Security check haven’t made him a millionaire, but he’s an old dear anyway. If he were rolling in dough though, I might have to give his offer serious consideration.”

Kyle’s step faltered. “Oh?”

She smiled. “I’m sure that I’m not the first woman to tell you that you’re an extremely attractive man. And two million dollars would make you darned near irresistible.”

His step faltered again. “Money turn you on?”

“Green is my very favorite color. As I said, you’re an attractive guy in lots of ways, but you’re safe from me. No offense intended, but I plan on marrying a rich man.”

All sorts of alarms started going off in his head. “That so?”

“Yep.”

“What about love?”

“Oh, I don’t want just any rich man. I want one that I can love, of course. But being able to sleep soundly without worrying about security generates a lot of affection.”

Her tone was light and teasing, but Kyle sensed an underlying agenda that prompted her attitude. What was it that worried her at night? He wondered if it had anything to do with the scars on the left side of her face. The faint lines were almost imperceptible. With her skillful makeup, nobody but a professional giving her as close a scrutiny as he had would have detected the slight traces.

He ached to ask her more, but now was not the time. Instead he chuckled and said, “I’ll drink to that. Do you mind watching the store for a while? I need to check some things with my grandfather.”

“No problem.”

He turned and hurried back upstairs.

When Pete spied Kyle, he said, “What are you doing up here? Why ain’t you down courtin’ Irish? I like her, son. I like her a lot. She’d make you a fine wife. You’d have good-looking kids.”

“Aren’t you rushing things a bit?”

“Nope. I knew right off that your grandmother was the woman for me.”

“Well, I’m different,” Kyle said. “I need a bit more time. And there’s a hitch with Irish.”

“A hitch?”

Kyle sat down beside the bed and blew out a big breath. “It seems that she wants to marry a rich man.”

Pete gave a hoot of laughter. “Then you’re in good shape there. Besides the ten I gave you, how many million did you have at last count?”

“That’s not the point. You see, I could be very interested in Irish, but I don’t want somebody who looks at me and only sees dollar signs.”

Pete nodded. “I get you. So you’re going to lie to her?”