Page 42 of Snow in Texas

“Okay, you’re going to have to stop that,” she scolded.

“What?”

“Looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She made a face and lowered her voice. “Like you’re imagining me naked.”

He smiled. “I don’t have to imagine that.”

“Ugh…”

“But that’s not what I’m doing.”

She lifted her brows, inviting him to explain.

“I just like watching you.”

She took a bite of onion ring. “God, you’re not some kind of sap, are you?”

He laughed and grabbed a ring from the basket. “Uh,no.”

“So why are youlookingat me?”

He thought he saw fear and doubt in the quick flicker of her gaze. Riley, the fucker, hadn’t admired her, hadn’t doted on her, hadn’t complimented her. So he said, “Because you’re beautiful.”

She blushed madly, and said, “You’re an idiot,” in a pleased, sweet voice.

“No, sweetheart. I’m Cajun. We Frenchies don’t have a problem telling our women they’re damn gorgeous.”

Her blush deepened, and she bit into another onion ring. “Stop,” she said, softly, but that wasn’t what she wanted at all.

“No.”

“Colin…” She met his eyes, hers full of softness and warmth. Yes, she was soft, in the feminine heart of her. Women were tough as nails…and melty as butter when you loved them and showed them affection. Men couldn’t hope to be as dynamic as them; men ought to treat them better, in order to reap the rewards.

It struck him, suddenly, that he’d been a real shithead with most of the half-girlfriends and one night stands in his past life. Why was it different with Jenny? He had to acknowledge that there was something special in the works.“I think you’re falling in love with my sister,”Candy had said.

“Jen,” he said, growing serious.

“Hmm?”

“I meant what I said before. About not hurting you.” He gave her a meaningful look and hoped she read his sincerity. “I ain’t perfect. Probably not even good. But I will look after you.”

She smiled, eyes still soft. “Youarea sap.” When he started to protest, she said, quietly, urgently, “I like it. Please be a sap. I’ve never had that before.”

~*~

Jenny had to work until five. And despite the diversion of watching her take orders, by four, he was bored out of his mind. His eyes glazed and at half-mast, he saw Jenny as blurred around the edges, movements fuzzing into her surroundings.

Colin didn’t realize there was a man standing beside his table until the guy spoke, and then he jerked.

It was a young, scrawny man who reminded him a little of Pup the prospect: dark hair that needed introduced to a brush, edging of pimples along his jaw, that uninspired slack-jawed look of youth today. He wore a greasy white apron, and Colin thought he must work here, back in the kitchen.

“You’re Jenny’s boyfriend?” he was asking.

Colin shook his head to clear the fuzziness. “Uh…what?”

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