Texas Glory. Joan Elliott Pickart
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babies can decipher black and white from the time they’re born. So, when I saw the panda I knew it was the perfect gift for my niece or nephew.
“Of course, this is the middle of May and the baby isn’t due until Christmas but—” Bram shrugged “—it’s a terrific panda. Don’t you think so?”
Glory blinked, trying to digest all that Bram Bishop had said.
“You...you bought the panda a ticket on this flight?” she asked finally.
“Well, yeah,” Bram said, nodding. “I figured it would get really messed up if I sent it through with my luggage. Since it’s nearly five feet tall, it was too big for the overhead compartments, so I bought it a ticket for a seat of its own. Hey, this is a very important bear for a very special baby.”
“Right,” Glory said, eyeing him warily. “Well, one thing is clear. The baby is going to have an interesting uncle—to say the least.”
Before Bram could decide if he’d just been insulted, the flight attendant arrived with her offerings. Bram asked for a soft drink. Glory requested orange juice.
“Would your friend like anything?” the flight attendant asked Bram. She had a perfectly serious expression on her face as she nodded toward the panda. “A drink? Some peanut?”
“No, thanks,” Bram said. “He gets airsick if he eats or drinks during a flight.”
“Okeydokey,” the attendant said, then pushed the cart forward.
“The craziness is catching,” Glory muttered.
“I heard that,” Bram said, laughing.
Heavens, Glory thought, taking a sip of her juice, Bram Bishop had such a rich, rumbly, masculine laugh, that it had sent a shiver down her spine. He really was very good-looking. His features were rugged and tanned, his medium brown hair was sun streaked to nearly blond in places. And he had, without a doubt, the most beautiful, bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
Oh, yes, Bram Bishop was drop-dead gorgeous
He was also nuttier than a fruitcake.
He’d bought a plane ticket for a five-foot toy panda bear? Said bear being a gift for a baby who wasn’t due to be born until the end of the year?
That was definitely crazy.
Well, it was sweet, too, in all fairness. Bram Bishop and his brothers must be extremely fond of each other. That was nice. A close-knit family certainly wasn’t a given in today’s society.
“So!” Bram said, interrupting Glory’s thoughts. “I’ve introduced myself and my buddy here. It’s your turn. You are...?”
“Glory Carson,” she said, smiling.
Say, now, Bram thought, what a lovely smile Glory Carson had. It lit up her whole face and made those fascinating green eyes sparkle.
“That’s a pretty name,” he said. “Glory. I really like it.”
“Thank you.”
“So tell me, Ms. Glory Carson—it is Ms., isn’t it?”
“I’m not married,” she said.
She could, she supposed, correct Bram, tell him she was actually Dr. Carson, but she wasn’t in the mood to go into a lengthy explanation about her work, not after the weekend she’d just put in. She was having an hour’s flight worth of time-out.
“I’m single, too,” Bram said, then drained his cup. “That’s one thing we have in common already.”
Already? That was a red-alert word, Glory thought. Mr. Bram Bishop just might be starting his hustle, making his move, his come-on. Oh, this malarkey got so tiresome.
“That didn’t sound right,” Bram said, frowning. “My mouth got ahead of my mind. That ‘already’ was really tacky.”
“Oh,” Glory said, surprise evident on her face.
Bram smiled. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to get to know you better—talk, share, discover who you are. But I’m not assuming anything here.”
“That’s very refreshing,” Glory said, unable to keep from smiling.
“Let’s take it from the top,” Bram said. “Do you live in Houston?”
“Yes.”
Dynamite. “That’s good,” Bram said, nodding. “Next question. How long is your hair when it’s falling free?”
Glory frowned and finished her orange juice.
“Cancel refreshing,” she said. “What’s next? The spiel about wanting to see my hair spread out on your bed pillow? You need some new material, Mr. Bishop.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Talk to your panda bear.”
No wonder he wasn’t married, Bram thought in self-disgust. He was an idiot. The thing was, he didn’t have any “material,” because he’d never needed it with women. He just said what was honestly on his mind. And since he was wondering how long Glory Carson’s hair was, he’d asked her.
Bram looked at the panda. “I blew it, buddy.”
“Indeed,” Glory said, not opening her eyes.
“Cups, please,” the flight attendant said, appearing next to Bram’s seat. “We’ll be landing in Houston very soon.”
Bram reached over and plucked the cup from Glory’s hand.
“There you go, darlin’,” he said to the attendant. “Listen, let me ask you something.”
“Yes, sir?”
“If a man you just met asked you how long your hair was when it wasn’t piled on your head, what would you do?”
“Slug him,” the flight attendant said.
“Thanks for sharing,” Bram said glumly.
“Glad to help,” the attendant said, moving on.
Glory had to quickly smother a bubble of laughter.
This really wasn’t funny, she told herself. Her merriment was probably the product of her bone-deep fatigue. But Bram had sounded like a dejected little boy who’d been told it wasn’t polite to ask for candy that hadn’t been offered to him.
He was an unusual man, this Bram Bishop. She’d expect someone with his looks and build to be smooth as molasses around women, having them fall all over him after one glimpse of that dazzling smile, that body and those gorgeous blue eyes.
Yet he seemed to be doing everything wrong, saying the worst things possible in a first-meeting scenario.
Wait a minute, Glory thought. The key word was seemed. It could very well be that Bram had perfected an aw-shucks-poor-me-I-screwed-up routine that resulted in women forgiving him a multitude of social sins.
. Oh, forget it. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She’d be very glad when the plane landed and Bram exited with his silly panda.
Glory opened one eye just enough to look at the toy bear.
Then again, she mused, she had to give Bram credit for doing such a sweet—though ridiculous—thing as getting that toy for his brother’s baby-to-be, and actually buying an airplane ticket for the enormous bear so nothing would happen to it.
Stop it, she told herself, closing her eye again. Why was she wasting her precious time attempting to analyze the enigmatic Mr. Bishop? Enough was enough.
Glory directed her mind to go as blank as a television screen when the Off button was pushed. No matter how little time remained until the plane landed in Houston, every minute spent in a relaxed, nonthinking mode was beneficial for replenishing her energy supply.
Three minutes later she opened her eyes.
Darn