A Long Tall Texan Summer: Tom Walker by Diana Palmer Page B
Authors: Diana Palmer
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Western, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Texas, Westerns, Cowboys, Cowboys - Texas
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right into Elysia's heart every time she saw him. The past might be over, but her feelings for him had never
wavered. They grew harder to contain as she saw that rare tenderness he displayed with Crissy. With
no one else was he as open, as vulnerable. To make matters worse, when Elysia came into a room, he seemed to freeze over.
She didn't know that it was jealousy motivating
him, that seeing her with Matt that evening
had
provoked all sorts of doubts about her feelings.
She was getting Sunday dinner when Tom came into the kitchen to ask for cups to go with the carafe of coffee.
“They're in that cupboard." With her hands busy making rolls, she had to nod with her head toward the cabinets.
"I'll get them."
She kneaded risen dough, trying not to notice
how nice he looked in slacks and a dark jacket with a
delicately red striped shirt and paisley tie. He wore his hair short and neat but she had fantasies about Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html how he might look with his hair tousled or down around his shoulders like his Native American ancestors...
"Crissy wants to know if you'll let her come home with me to meet Moose," he said.
She froze. She knew she shouldn't be thinking
of making up excuses, but she was.
"I know you don't approve," he said quietly.
"But she's my child, too."
She glanced at him worriedly and then away again. "It isn't that I don't approve," she faltered.
He put the cups down and went to stand close behind her. "But you want her to like Matt, is that it?" he demanded.
She whirled. "Whatever made you ask that?"
He searched her wide eyes. "You're involved
with him, aren't you?" he demanded.
She grimaced. "No, I'm not," she said through her teeth. "But I wish I were. He's handsome and sexy and..."
"Experienced," he said for her, bitterly.
The tone of his voice slowed her down. She looked at him quietly, seeing emotional scars that probably were invisible to most people. They were vivid to her, perhaps because they shared the same sort of past.
"Experience doesn't make a man," she replied.
"There are many things much more important."
"Such as?"
"Tenderness," she said promptly. "The ability to carry on a conversation. Intelligence. A sense of humor."
He glared down at her. "I suppose Matt has all those qualities," he said.
"He's my friend," she told him. "Only my friend."
His green eyes narrowed. "And what am I?"
Her heart jumped. She didn't want to be pinned down with such a question. She turned her attention back to her dough.
"We were friends once," he continued, as if she'd spoken. "I valued your opinion. We got along well together."
"All that changed," she reminded him.
"Yes. I got drunk and made the mistake of my life," he said bitterly. "I've lived with it, but it hasn't been easy. Probably not for you, either," he added perceptively. "You were no more a rounder than I was."
She looked at him wide-eyed. "Excuse me, that's not what you said when that French Don Juan made Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html some loud remarks about me on the street."
He grimaced. "I was jealous," he said flatly.
Her hands stilled in the dough as she stared at him. "You were what?"
He shrugged. "I hated his guts," he said shortly. "I couldn't imagine you with a man like that, but I wasn't
thinking clearly. You're very attractive," he added reluctantly. "I can't blame other men for wanting you, too."
His almost unnoticed slip fascinated her. She glanced at him hesitantly. "Do you... want me?" she asked daringly.
His heart jumped in his chest. His face hardened.
She backtracked. "Sorry. Unfortunate question—"
His mouth cut off the words. He'd moved so quickly that she didn't even see him coming.
He kissed her
a little clumsily, because it had been a long time. But after a minute, as she began to respond shyly, he started to get the hang of it again.
"Of course I want you," he growled against her
wavered. They grew harder to contain as she saw that rare tenderness he displayed with Crissy. With
no one else was he as open, as vulnerable. To make matters worse, when Elysia came into a room, he seemed to freeze over.
She didn't know that it was jealousy motivating
him, that seeing her with Matt that evening
had
provoked all sorts of doubts about her feelings.
She was getting Sunday dinner when Tom came into the kitchen to ask for cups to go with the carafe of coffee.
“They're in that cupboard." With her hands busy making rolls, she had to nod with her head toward the cabinets.
"I'll get them."
She kneaded risen dough, trying not to notice
how nice he looked in slacks and a dark jacket with a
delicately red striped shirt and paisley tie. He wore his hair short and neat but she had fantasies about Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html how he might look with his hair tousled or down around his shoulders like his Native American ancestors...
"Crissy wants to know if you'll let her come home with me to meet Moose," he said.
She froze. She knew she shouldn't be thinking
of making up excuses, but she was.
"I know you don't approve," he said quietly.
"But she's my child, too."
She glanced at him worriedly and then away again. "It isn't that I don't approve," she faltered.
He put the cups down and went to stand close behind her. "But you want her to like Matt, is that it?" he demanded.
She whirled. "Whatever made you ask that?"
He searched her wide eyes. "You're involved
with him, aren't you?" he demanded.
She grimaced. "No, I'm not," she said through her teeth. "But I wish I were. He's handsome and sexy and..."
"Experienced," he said for her, bitterly.
The tone of his voice slowed her down. She looked at him quietly, seeing emotional scars that probably were invisible to most people. They were vivid to her, perhaps because they shared the same sort of past.
"Experience doesn't make a man," she replied.
"There are many things much more important."
"Such as?"
"Tenderness," she said promptly. "The ability to carry on a conversation. Intelligence. A sense of humor."
He glared down at her. "I suppose Matt has all those qualities," he said.
"He's my friend," she told him. "Only my friend."
His green eyes narrowed. "And what am I?"
Her heart jumped. She didn't want to be pinned down with such a question. She turned her attention back to her dough.
"We were friends once," he continued, as if she'd spoken. "I valued your opinion. We got along well together."
"All that changed," she reminded him.
"Yes. I got drunk and made the mistake of my life," he said bitterly. "I've lived with it, but it hasn't been easy. Probably not for you, either," he added perceptively. "You were no more a rounder than I was."
She looked at him wide-eyed. "Excuse me, that's not what you said when that French Don Juan made Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html some loud remarks about me on the street."
He grimaced. "I was jealous," he said flatly.
Her hands stilled in the dough as she stared at him. "You were what?"
He shrugged. "I hated his guts," he said shortly. "I couldn't imagine you with a man like that, but I wasn't
thinking clearly. You're very attractive," he added reluctantly. "I can't blame other men for wanting you, too."
His almost unnoticed slip fascinated her. She glanced at him hesitantly. "Do you... want me?" she asked daringly.
His heart jumped in his chest. His face hardened.
She backtracked. "Sorry. Unfortunate question—"
His mouth cut off the words. He'd moved so quickly that she didn't even see him coming.
He kissed her
a little clumsily, because it had been a long time. But after a minute, as she began to respond shyly, he started to get the hang of it again.
"Of course I want you," he growled against her
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