Wild About A Texan

He grinned down at her. “Absolutely.” He pulled her close and whirled her around the floor again. “I’m crazy about you, Olivia Emory.”

She stiffened. “Moore.”

“Sorry. Moore. I’m glad you’re rid of that bozo’s name.”

She’d told him the same story about her name change that she’d told his grandfather. Amazing how easily she’d learned to lie, especially when her life had come to depend on it. She had changed names two or three times since she’d last seen Jackson. Her ruse must have worked, for she hadn’t seen or heard from Thomas since he’d tracked her to Akron and crashed Irish’s wedding reception.

“Relax,” Jackson whispered in her ear, drawing her close.

“Pardon?”

“You suddenly went stiff as a post.”

“Sorry. I must be getting a bit tired.”

“Oh, hell, I’m the one that’s sorry. I’ve been dancing your feet off for an hour. Only way I figured I could hold you and stay decent in front of my mama and daddy. Let’s go sit down, and I’ll get you something from the buffet. Oh, shoot, Mama’s waving at us. You mind visiting with my folks some more?”

“Not at all. I like your parents. They’re very nice.”

“They’re curious is what they are.”

“About me? Why?”

“Let’s just say that they’re sizing you up as a future daughter-in-law.”

Her breath caught. “A what?”

He chuckled and kissed her nose. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. I’m a long way from being ready to make that trip down the aisle.”

Olivia was cordial with Mr. and Mrs. Crow and chatted amiably with them for a few minutes. She really did like his parents, but when Jackson left for the buffet table, she excused herself politely and stole away. Distance was what she needed. Distance from Jackson Crow. She had no plans to take up with him where they left off in Akron. If she hadn’t become so frightened when she’d spotted Thomas across the room, she wouldn’t have thrown herself at Jackson and dragged him from the reception.

She retreated to a courtyard outside the elegant inn, a spot lush with tropical plants and hanging baskets. She sat on a stone bench, hoping to make herself invisible behind the ficus tree growing beside the seat.

She felt foolish, a woman hiding like a child to avoid a confrontation, but she’d spent so many years fleeing and hiding, simply to survive, that the response was as conditioned as those of Pavlov’s dogs. Instinctively, whenever she felt threatened, she ran.

Jackson Crow posed no physical threat to her—at least she didn’t think so. Yet, she seemed to have a penchant for picking abusive men. She’d thought Rick, her college fiancé, was a kind, caring person until the first time he’d lost his temper. And her ex-husband Thomas—

She shuddered.

Olivia had sworn off any sort of significant relationship with men. She didn’t have the emotional stamina for it—at least not now. And maybe not ever.

Her brief fling with Jackson had been a mistake, just as she knew that rekindling their affair would be a mistake. She sensed that although Jackson played the clown on the surface, he was a deeply intense individual underneath. The first time their eyes met, she had responded with a visceral feeling that stunned her. The first time he’d kissed her, she’d gone up in flames. The first time they had made love, she’d been lost.

Those feelings were still there.

Jackson Crow was Trouble. She was glad that they would be living over two hundred miles apart.

Holding a heaping plate of food in each hand, Jackson scanned the room.

Mitch Harris strolled up. “Lose something?”

“Yeah.” Ignoring Mitch, his gaze scanned the clusters of people again. Where in the dickens had she gone now?

“You thought any more about accepting that appointment to the Railroad Commission?”

“I’ve had other things on my mind.”

Mitch chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed. Beautiful woman.”

Jackson glared at his friend. “Keep your mitts off her, Mitch. I mean it. This one is special. If you try to move in on her, I’ll break both your legs and all your writin’ fingers.”

“I got the message earlier, my friend. Jackson, I really wish you’d take that spot for Bledsoe’s unexpired term. Things are getting backed up over there. I need to make an appointment this week, and you’re my first choice. You’re sharp, and I don’t know of anybody any more fair-minded than you are.”

Jackson snorted. “You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m serious. You know the oil business backward and forward, and I know you keep up with the other areas that the commission regulates. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

“Actually, I have been thinking some about it. I’d have to move to Austin, wouldn’t I?”

“Be a devil of a commute if you didn’t. Come on, Jackson, it’s not permanent—just till the next general election. I know you like Austin, and remember, we’ve got some fine golf courses in the area.”

“None of them as good as Crow’s Nest—the first tee is only ten yards from my front door. Austin’s golf courses aren’t the big drawing card for me.”

“Ah,” Mitch said, grinning, “but we’re soon going to have a drawing card that no place else has. The lovely Olivia.”

Jackson answered with a slow grin of his own.

“Tell you what, if you’ll agree to take the appointment, I’ll show you which way Olivia went.”

“Buddy, you’re on.”

Three

Olivia drove down the tree-lined street on Austin’s west side, then turned into the driveway. She bumped over the cracked asphalt that had been heaved upward by live-oak roots and pulled to a stop in her space beside the garage apartment in the rear yard. She waved to Dr. Tessa Jurney, who was sitting on the side porch of the main house.

Grateful to be home and doubly grateful that it was Friday, she climbed from the oven of a car. Sweat trickled from her hairline, and her sleeveless shift stuck to her back from the car’s leather seat. She blotted her face and neck with a paper towel from the roll she’d learned to carry with her.

“Come have a glass of iced tea,” Tessa called. “You look as if you’re about to melt.”

“I melted a long time ago,” Olivia said as she walked toward the porch of the two-story house, an elegant white clapboard from the thirties. “Is it always this hot?”

“At this time of year? Always. People around here say that there are two seasons—summer and August. Thank goodness August is finally over. September is a bit better, especially toward the end, and October is glorious.” She poured a glass of tea from the pitcher and handed it to Olivia.

Olivia took a long swallow, then rolled the cold glass over her forehead. “The first thing I’m going to do when I get a pay check is to have my car’s air conditioner fixed. I never needed it in Colorado, so it wasn’t a problem. Even though the car’s getting old, it has never given me a moment’s trouble. I didn’t even know the air conditioner wasn’t working until I headed to Texas.”

“I’ll be happy to loan you money to—”

“No.” Olivia held up her hand. “Absolutely not. You and Ed have already done too much for me—helping me get this job and letting me live in your apartment for practically nothing. No loans, but thanks, anyhow.”