Chapter 8

8

A bby flipped her phone over and over and over against her leg, her nerves nowhere near settled though the sermon usually put her to sleep. Wade finally reached over and took her phone from her, giving her a nasty glare.

"Hey," she hissed, but he shoved her device under his leg and went back to holding Cheryl's hand. Abby looked from him—he stared straight ahead like he listened to Pastor Owens when she knew he didn't—to Cheryl.

She wore a look of sympathy on her face, but she didn't try to get Abby's phone back for her.

She needed that in case Tex texted. She smiled at those two words together. Tex texting. Tex might text.

He'd asked her to help him with the property they owned together. Her mind had been so mushy after he'd skated his skin along hers, fed her this amazing dinner—even if his son had made it—and they'd talked about old times.

Then, he very obviously asked her to simply spend more time with him. Sure, he'd hidden it behind wanting to show her some blueprints, but not because he wanted her approval. He wanted…her.

She could see it plainly in his eyes. He hadn't tried to hide it, and Abby had no idea how to deal with that.

She'd tried last night, pacing from the front door, through the living room and into the kitchen to the back one. Atticus and Scout hadn't been pleased with her nervous energy or the storm, and they'd finally stalked down the hall to her bedroom, where she'd found them an hour later, curled up on her pillow together.

She hated that, because then her pillow was hot from cat-body heat, and she had to clean off all the hair and flip it over. They knew she disliked them on her pillow, but she supposed she had freaked them out a little, what with talking to herself and refusing to sit down.

Abby had deliberately gone to bed before Wade had returned home from his date with Cheryl, because then she wouldn't have to talk to him. She'd overslept that morning due to obsessing for hours alone in her bedroom last night, so they'd been rushed to get to church this morning.

She'd looked for Tex, of course. How could she not? Her eyes had a mind of their own as they'd swept the chapel for his big, broad shoulders and that characteristic white cowboy hat. So many men wore cowboy hats in Wyoming, and Abby hadn't spotted him.

"Wade," she whispered, her brother's name really a plea.

"You're drivin' me nuts," he said, pulling out her phone. "Hold still, for crying out loud." He handed her the phone, and Abby offered him a smile, though all she felt was anxiety and desperation to have a text from Tex.

She didn't. A sigh fell from her lips at the silent phone and empty text messages, and she tucked her phone under her own leg now. She didn't think he'd call or text her first. He'd already asked her to come see him several times, and he'd given her different ways to do it. Now, it was up to her to decide what she wanted to do, and when.

The sound of Pastor Owens' voice warbled on, and Abby closed her eyes. She could conjure up the most fantastic daydreams, and one started about her joining Tex and Bryce for lunch after this meeting. In her imagination, the sun was shining, which so wasn't reality. The storm which had blown in last night had decided to sit right over the valley and dump buckets of rain.

No one in Coral Canyon was complaining, because they needed the moisture. It would help everyone's crops and animals and lawns, Abby's included.

Her daydream broke with the sunshine that didn't belong, and she sighed again as she opened her eyes. Wade sent her another slicing glare, and she realized how loudly she'd been vocalizing her desire for Tex. Too loudly.

The sermon finally ended, and Abby got to her feet quickly. She could wait for Wade at the truck, because everyone wanted to talk to him after church. He and Cheryl were quite the couple, and Abby suddenly couldn't stand being at their side, the perpetual third wheel that everyone overlooked, while they chatted with their friends, the neighbors down the lane, and the elderly.

"Where you goin' so fast?" Wade called after her, but Abby didn't slow down or acknowledge his question. She wondered what Tex had told Bryce, because the teenager had his eyebrows up plenty last night. She'd seen him dancing in the rain as she stood at the back window in the kitchen and looked next door.

Tex had gone out eventually too, and the two of them had laughed and run relays from the house to the back fence, all while the rain soaked them to the skin. They'd gone in several minutes later, their hair plastered to their foreheads, Tex's a sexy gray and black that really had Abby's heart racing. Not only that, but he'd glanced over to her house more than once in the ten minutes he'd been outside with his son.

If she had to categorize the look on his face from a hundred and fifty yards away, she'd call it longing. She felt the same way inside right now. She longed to see him and talk to him. She longed to get a text or call from him. She longed to not have to spend the rest of the afternoon with Wade and Cheryl, while they held hands and laughed, watched movies and provided support and friendship for one another.

Abby wanted that so badly her stomach ached. She swallowed against her stubbornness, and hurried to climb into Wade's truck so she wouldn't get soaking wet. She disliked the feel of rain against her skin, and she slicked it away once the door was closed.

She looked at her phone, still with no new messages. Before she could lose her nerve, she tapped to send Tex a message. In that moment, she realized she didn't even have his phone number.

"How is that possible?" she asked herself. The rain made plinking sounds against the roof and hood of the truck. She should've gotten his number when they signed the papers for the property. Wade had it—how had he gotten it?

She craned her neck to see if Wade and Cheryl were coming. She couldn't see them through the rain and the other people leaving the church building. Desperation clawed its way into her pulse, and Abby's frustration grew by leaps and bounds. Patience had never been her strong suit.

Someone knocked on her window, eliciting a yelp from her. She shrank away from the passenger window at the same time she turned in that direction.

The heavens had smiled upon her, because Tex stood there, a warm smile on his face and his cowboy hat protecting him from the rain. Abby quickly reached over and put the window down, not even caring that the rain joined her inside the truck. "Who goes around knocking on women's windows?" she asked. "You scared me."

Tex chuckled and actually waved at her. He waved, like he was fourteen years old. "Hey," he said. "I'm sure you have plans with Wade and Cheryl, but Mav's invited us for lunch, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me and Bryce."

"Today?"

"Yeah, today." His smile didn't waver, and Abby wondered where he got his confidence. "We're headed over there from here." He glanced over his shoulder at something, then looked back at her.

Indecision swam through her, and Abby blinked as she tried to find the right answer. She thought of the past sixteen hours and how much turmoil she'd been in, all because of Tex.

"It's—" he started to say, but Abby cut him off with, "Yes, I'd love to go to lunch at Mav's."

His grin kicked up a notch, because now it extended up into those eyes that pulled her in and drew her deep. "Fantastic," he said, opening her door and backing up. "Come on, Abs. We're parked on the other side of the lot." He looked at her shoes, which weren't the typical high heels most women wore. Abby couldn't stand jamming her wide feet into shoes like that.

"Do you want me to bring the truck closer?" he asked, sliding his gaze up her legs and back to her face. He reached up and pulled at the tie around his neck, his face turning a ruddy shade of red that made Abby feel sexy and desirable.

"I can walk," she said.

"Those shoes are going to disintegrate in the water," he said, eyeing them again.

She wore ballet flats, with a dress that almost reached the ground. She pulled it up to her knees as she turned toward him, the challenge accepted. "I'll be fine." She slipped out of the truck and closed the door behind her.

She shivered because of how near Tex stood, and she hoped she could play it off as coming from the cool weather. "Hurry up, Tex. It's not exactly warm out here."

"Right." He turned and strode away from Wade's truck, and Abby hurried to catch him. She did have her brother's number, and she'd text him from the safety of Tex's truck. Part of her screamed that she was insane to be doing this, and another part reminded her of what waited for her at home.

Another meal she'd made, spent with two people who loved each other and would probably rather be alone. She was doing Wade and Cheryl a favor, and she pushed out her doubts and her fears.

This was Tex Young and his son. They weren't kidnapping her, and even if the food was the most disgusting thing she'd ever tasted, she'd be fine. She could get something to eat somewhere else later.

"I don't have my car," she said, slowing to a stop. "You'll have to take me home."

Tex turned and looked at her. "Abby, I live right next door to you. I'm goin' that way."

Foolishness filled her. "Oh, right."

He reached back for her, his hand hanging there in the air, obviously waiting for her to take it…or not. Acting out of that turmoil, she slipped her fingers along his, seating them between his, and got moving again.

Tex kept his hatted head down, but Abby saw his smile. It moved through her too, and she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to.

As they approached Tex's truck, Bryce got out of the front seat and stepped to the back. "Hey, Miss Abby," he said in a perfectly pleasant tone.

"Hello, Bryce," she said formally, panic running through her all of a sudden. If she and Tex really dated and went all the way to marriage this time, she'd be that boy's step-mother. She couldn't do that. She absolutely couldn't, because she wasn't very maternal at all. She didn't nurture. She worked, and she organized, and things got done, sure. But she didn't baby Wade about his injuries; she simply took care of him.

When they were all seated in the truck, Tex took off his hat and tossed it in the back. "Dad," Bryce complained. "You just got me soaking wet."

Tex whipped around to the back seat. "I'm sorry, bud. I was tryin' not to."

"Well, you failed." His son sounded disgusted, and Abby didn't blame him. She slicked her hands through her wet hair, wondering what in the world her makeup looked like. She shivered, because now she wasn't moving, and her shoulders had caught a lot of water on the trek across the lot.

While Tex reached across her for some napkins to help his son get dry, his phone rang. He touched the fancy screen between them and said, "Hey, Mav."

"Hey, so, uh, we've had a bit of an issue here," he said, his voice higher than normal.

"He filled the house with smoke," a woman said through the speakers.

Tex started to laugh, and Mav said, "I did not. Just the kitchen."

"The alarms in the whole house were going off," his wife said. "We can't eat at our place, Tex. We're going to Garden Divine if you want to join us."

"Dad, that's a salad bar," Bryce said from the back seat, still not happy.

"I think we'll pass," Tex said. "Thanks, though. Good luck with the smoke."

"Yeah," Mav said. "Sorry, Tex."

"It's fine," Tex said. "I know how to cook." They said their good-byes, and Tex looked at Abby and then Bryce. "So our place? Or a restaurant?"

"I'm voting restaurant," Bryce said coolly. "Sorry, Dad, but you don't know how to cook."

"Hey," Tex said in a wounded voice. "We get by."

"Because I cook," Bryce said in a mock whisper, and Abby turned and grinned at him.

"I'm fine with whatever," she said.

"You know more about this town than we do," Tex said. "Where should we go, knowing that church just got out and it's Sunday right about noon?"

Abby cocked her head and thought for a moment. She and Wade didn't eat out a whole lot, but she did know every place in town. "If you can stand the drive, there's actually an amazing café out by the police dog academy. It won't be as busy, because it's not right in town and it's this really cute place."

"I want to see the police dog academy," Bryce said.

"It's pouring rain," Tex said.

"Maybe we'll get a miracle and there will be a break in the storm," Bryce said.

Tex shook his head but didn't argue. He put in the address to The K9 Café and pulled out of the parking stall. "So," he said, "What did you think of the sermon?"

"Oh." Abby swallowed, unable to tell him a single thing Pastor Owens had said. She'd spent the hour nervously flipping her phone and daydreaming about Tex. "Uh, it was great."

He started to laugh right in time with the swiping of his wiper blades. "You didn't listen either."

"I listened," she said defensively.

"I liked the part about slowing down to hear the Lord," Bryce said from the back seat.

"Yeah," Abby said quickly. "Me too."

"He didn't even say that today." Tex belted out a laugh then, and she'd been caught. She folded her arms and stared out her window.

"Fine," she said. "I didn't really pay attention today."

Both Tex and Bryce laughed together, and then Bryce said, "Told you, Dad. I'm not the only one who struggles to listen."

"He's not the most dynamic pastor, is he?" Tex said, still chuckling. He looked over to Abby and reached over to take her hand in his. "Sorry, Abby. I didn't mean to embarrass you." He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them, sending lightning bolts through her whole body. Him kissing her in front of his son was definitely embarrassing, and she had no idea how to react.

"I'm glad to know you're not perfect," he said, not even realizing how stiff she'd gone. "Because neither Bryce nor I listened today at all."

"No?" she asked, letting their hands settle on the console. "What did you think about instead?" She didn't realize what a loaded question she'd asked until the silence filled the cab once and then twice over.

"Yeah, Dad," Bryce said with pure glee in his voice. "What were you thinking about during that sermon?"