My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) Read Free Page B

headed to the barn to check on the animals and prepare them for the night ahead.
    Lori folded the last sheet, then made her way out of the laundry room and into the kitchen, passing Monty Joe cooking a steak on the stove-top as she turned to head upstairs.
    "Back from the barn already?" she asked.
    He nodded and gave her a big grin. "The horses and Billy are all tucked in."
    The delicious aroma from the steak wafted its way around her, setting off grumbles in her stomach.
    It had been hours and hours since the boiled egg she'd consumed before her first flight that morning. She had to get out of the kitchen before she snatched Monty Joe's steak away from him.
    It didn't take long to mount the stairs and make her bed. A quick shower left her feeling refreshed.
    Before going down to dinner, she zipped open the carry-on she'd placed on a straight-backed chair, then assessed her clothing options.
    There weren't many choices. A dirty dry-clean-only uniform she'd worn on the flight to Zurich, a pair of high-heeled boots, one pair of blue jeans and a few soft sweaters and shirts. The jeans and a sweater would do. She swiftly changed, and pulled on the boots.
    Releasing her blond hair from the ponytail she'd been wearing, she shook it out, and ran a brush through it.
    Now that she was no longer a flight attendant she didn't have to worry about keeping her hair out of her face—or a passenger's drink. She only had to worry about helping the kids she would devote herself to in her own version of karma payback.
    Not even Monty Joe could be as hard on her as she was on herself.

 
     
     
    Chapter 4

     
    It was taking Lori long enough to come back downstairs. Monty Joe drew out his dinner as long as he could. He'd already eaten half the steak, the salad greens were long gone and only a quarter of his baked potato remained.
    Both were growing cold, and still Lori hadn't returned. If she didn't come soon, his plan would go awry.
    What was the point of going to all the trouble of frying a steak, when he would have been content with a can of chili, if he couldn't get a little revenge?
    At last he heard the click-click of Lori's footsteps on the stairs.
    Yes-s-s.
    When she reached the bottom step, but hadn't quite turned the corner into the den, he took a bite of juicy steak and made a "hmmm" sound. That should get her going.
    Then she entered the room, and he almost choked.
    The steak slithered down his throat like a rattlesnake on Xanax.
    What he'd forgotten to take into account was exactly how physically attractive Lori could be. Yes, she'd looked nice when he picked her up at the airport, but now, with long blond hair spilling across her shoulders and down her pretty pink sweater, she looked like an angel.
    And heaven knew, it was one heck of a deception.
    He started coughing—and couldn't stop, all the while trying to balance his plate on his legs.
    Lori rushed into the room and began patting his back. "Are you okay?"
    At last the steak made it out of his air pipe and slid into his stomach. "Fine. I'm fine."
    "Oh, good. I didn't want to apply the Heimlich maneuver if I didn't have to."
    This wasn't going as he'd planned. She wasn't supposed to save him. She was supposed to ask him what was for dinner.
    But of course she was too contrary to do that. Instead, she sat on the sofa arm catty-corner from his recliner, dangling her legs only inches from him.
    "You had me worried there, Tiger."
    Tiger? From any other woman, he might enjoy the nickname, but from Lori, it had to be cynical or a veiled insult. Two could play that game. "Nothing to worry about—Kitten."
    Lori swung her legs, obviously settling in for a chat. The kitten reference seemed to have gone completely over her head. But what other reaction could he expect from someone so self-centered? She probably thought it was a compliment.
    "I really like your home. It's very comfortable." She pointed to the old photograph depicting Bobby Gray, Charlie and him, hanging just behind her