Page 47 of Snow in Texas

“Mercy’s wife writes,” he said, quietly, contemplatively, and she wondered if he’d meant to reference his sister-in-law. “Books. I asked. She was sitting there in her socks, with her baby, looking like she was doing nothing special, and she was writinga book.” He sounded incredulous at the idea.

“Yeah.” Jenny felt some of her anxiety soften. “Ava’s always been a little bookworm. She and Mercy always had that in common.”

Colin snorted, but his gaze had gone faraway. “Felix was the biggest nerd.”

“There’s worse things to be.”

“Yeah.” His gaze refocused, lighting on her like hot brown coals. “A lot worse, yeah?”

She couldn’t take him looking at her like that. She melted inside and wanted to stop thinking, just push her hands through his thick hair and pull him down on top of her.

He took a step closer, towering over her. “What do you write?”

“Hmm? What?” What pretty lips he had. She wanted to feel them against her own again.

“What were you writing, in your secret diary?” He gave her a teasing smile, but it dropped away, the intensity overtaking him.

Jenny took a deep breath and felt the air tremble in her lungs. “My therapist thought it would be helpful to keep a journal.” She told him the total truth. “I was writing about what happened.”

“Do you write about everything that happens?”

“Most things.”

“Did you write about what happened last night?”

She felt heat steal into her cheeks and shook her head. “Some things it’s better to keep to yourself.”

The mattress dipped low when he sat beside her, the springs groaning a protest. “Does that mean I shouldn’t have told the guys about it?”

She elbowed him hard and he chuckled. “Liar. You don’t even like most of them.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he took her breath when he said, “I likeyou.”

She couldn’t handle this. Just couldn’t. “Colin, don’t…”

When she would have turned her head aside, he caught her shoulders and held her facing him. “Hey. Listen. It’s like I said last night–”

“I heard you last night. And even if you meant it, and even if you’re some kinda Cajun miracle walking into my life.” She gave him a brief grin before her face fell. “I can’t do this again.”

He frowned.

“I can’t be the girl who lets a man consume her. I did that before. I can’t do it again.” She had to have learned from her awful mistake, she thought. She had to have grown.

“Consume, really? Baby, if you want to talk about eating–”

“I’m serious.”

“ – then lie back and let it happen. I’m serious too,” he said, expression turning ferocious. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not anybody’s favorite guy. I don’t have a history ofconsuminganybody.”

“I…” She what? What did she say to that? He was fast becomingherfavorite guy.

“It scared me today,” he admitted, voice low and rough. “When he got hold of you. I…” He shook his head. “I haven’t ever felt like that before.”

Oh God…

“And I dunno. Maybe you don’t feel any kind of way about me. Maybe you hate my guts. But…”

She laid her finger against his lips. “Stop talking.” Grabbed his biceps, leaned into him, and kissed him.

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