Plain Jane's Texan. Jan Hudson
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but I could talk to Grandpa Pete about it.”
“Thanks, but Elmer isn’t the only problem. The logical solution is to move to another house.”
“You could always move to Texas,” he said, his tone conjuring up visions of hot nights on cool sheets. “My offer is still open.”
Her heart stumbled. Her face flushed. He was obviously teasing her again, but she didn’t know how to handle such comments. She didn’t want to make a serious response and have him think that she was so unsophisticated, but she wasn’t experienced in social banter with men like him.
“Eve?”
Forcing gaiety, she laughed and said, “I was just trying to picture Elmer and Minerva and the others in your living room. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but after meeting Godzilla today, I might be tempted.”
“Godzilla?”
“My new boss. They brought him in as the creative director, but the last creative thought he had was in 1989. Only thing he had going for him was that he worked in a New York agency. That job should have been mine, darn it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to whine, and I’ve been babbling on and on.”
“You weren’t whining or babbling, and I enjoy talking to you. We didn’t get to spend enough time together at the wedding, and I’ve been putting out fires ever since I left. Say, I’m going to be in Cleveland in a day or two, and now that we’re practically family, I was hoping that we might get together for dinner... or something.”
A rush of panic swept over Eve. Even though he made her knees weak and her heart go pitter-patter, she felt completely out of her element with a man like Matt. Being around him too much might make her have goofy ideas—like believing they weren’t totally mismatched. She knew that he was simply making a duty call since he was going to be in Cleveland and since they were “practically family.”
One part of her wanted desperately to go out with him, but another more sensible part told her that nothing could ever come of anything between Matt Crow and her. And even if they got together for a brief fling, it could cause awkwardness in the family later. Eve remembered a painful experience a few years before when she’d dated her friend Amy’s brother. When the romance fizzled, things were never the same between Amy and her again.
“Eve?”
“Yes?” Simply tell him nicely that you have other plans, she told herself, but she couldn’t make the words come out.
“Is it Charlie who’s the problem?”
“Charlie?” Suddenly she remembered that Matt assumed the Charlie she lived with was a man. Praying that God wouldn’t strike her dead for another little white lie, she said, “Yes. I’m not sure that he would approve. He’s jealous, extremely jealous, but thanks for calling. I have to run. My—my bathwater’s running over.” She quickly hung up the phone and slumped back into the chair.
Charlie Chan, the half-Siamese, half-mystery cat who was the unofficial ruler of the house, hopped on the table beside her and sat regally, waiting for her attention.
Eve scratched Charlie’s head. “Hey, fellow, how did your day go? Mine has been a bummer. Do you think Matt Crow thought I was a nut case?”
The cat cocked his head. “Meow. ”
“Yeah, he probably did. But seeing him again would be very unwise. He would break my heart, Charlie. And if he broke my heart, my mother would know and then Irish would be upset and drag Kyle into it, and he would be in an awkward position because they are cousins and very close. No, Charlie, it’s better this way.”
But if it was better, why did she want to cry?
When the answering machine came on again, Matt cursed and slammed down the phone. It had taken him three days to gut up enough to call Eve; now he’d been calling every hour from six to midnight for the past three nights. After that first conversation, he’d gotten her machine every time. That was a hell of a long bath she was taking.
After he’d left Ohio, he’d tried to convince himself that Eve was taken and to stay away from her, get her out of his mind. He hadn’t had any luck. She plagued his thoughts; she invaded his dreams; she haunted his senses.
He couldn’t think of a single woman who could hold a candle to her. Despite her beauty, she seemed totally lacking in conceit. Instead of arrogance, she radiated genuineness and caring, even shyness. There was an inner beauty about Eve that was more dazzling than the outer.
Matt just couldn’t forget her.
To hell with Charlie, he’d finally decided. It was every man for himself, and Matt meant to fight for her. He knew what it was to fight for what you wanted, and Matt had never wanted anything in his life like he wanted Eve Ellison.
Eve couldn’t care that much for old Charlie and have kissed Matt the way she did. That was what gave him hope. And Charlie wasn’t taking very good care of Eve, or she wouldn’t be so frazzled. There were problems in that relationship; Matt was sure of it. And he intended to take advantage of those problems.
He drummed his fingers on the telephone. Something didn’t ring true about that phone conversation with Eve on Wednesday. She’d seemed jumpy. Nervous? Scared? He wondered if that jerk had been listening? Is that why she wouldn’t take his other calls?
“Jealous,” she’d said. “Extremely jealous.” Was Charlie abusive to her? Fury shot through him. If that bastard harmed one beautiful blond hair on Eve’s sweet head, Matt would break his kneecaps.
Frustrated that he couldn’t get through to Eve directly, Matt knew he had to figure out another way. He drummed his fingers some more and began to devise a plan.
While water boiled for pasta, Eve listened to the messages on her answering machine. The first was from her mother and father, who had just returned from a trip to Texas.
“Your dad and I fell in love with the country around Pete’s place,” Beverly Ellison said. “Al has definitely decided to retire, and we’ve bought some land there. We’ll be moving to Texas soon. Call me, and I’ll tell you the details.”
Eve sighed. Even though she didn’t make it home to Akron more than a couple of times a month, she was going to miss having her parents less than an hour’s drive away. Her mom was great about dropping in with a chocolate cake occasionally, and she could always be counted on to care for the animals if one of her regular sitters wasn’t available.
First Irish, now her folks. Everybody was deserting her for Texas. What was so darned great about that place anyhow?
The next message was from Lottie Abrams, a headhunter who she heard from occasionally. “Eve, give me a call the minute you get in. A really hot agency in Dallas has seen your book and is very interested in talking to you. It’s a creative director’s position and at twice your salary. This could be a big break for you.”
Dallas? As in Texas?
Her heart gave a little trip. The image of a tall, handsome man with a cleft chin and a dynamite smile flashed into her mind. Matt Crow lived in Dallas.
Eve shook off the turn of her thoughts, but Matt’s face crept back despite her efforts. He was a hard man to forget. A huge bouquet of yellow roses had arrived soon after they had talked. For three days, he’d left messages on her answering machine, each one more urgent than the last. She had deliberately ignored his calls. He must have finally gotten the hint because she hadn’t heard a word from the tall Texan in a while.
She sort of missed the attention.
No. Forget Matt Crow; he was a lost cause. Certainly not her type—whatever her type was.
But Dallas was where Irish would be living. Her parents would be only a couple of hours’ drive away. She was going to have to move anyway, and Dallas had lots of room. Maybe she could find a place with a barn. And, dear Lord, how she longed