Country Courtship (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 2) (9 page)

It merely required patience on his part.

Technically, Bobby Gray wasn't on her doorstep. He was slouched in the cab of the truck he'd borrowed from Davis. Charlie hadn't wanted her husband to let Bobby Gray have it unless she was along for the ride. However, one of his high-wattage smiles—the kind that worked even on sisters—did the trick and she capitulated.

Now the bench seat was littered with discarded Styrofoam coffee cups and fast food wrappers. The dash was covered in empty soda cans.

He'd pretty much remained awake, thanks to the coffee, but a few times he'd dozed off, then run to the apartment door and rung the bell—in case he'd missed anyone.

A nagging doubt niggled at him over whether he'd missed someone anyway, but he didn't think so. He leaned into the back to pull another cola from the disposable cooler on the floorboard, when a cab drove up and a young woman got out. She was dressed in the dark blue suit that many airline attendants wore.

She wheeled a small suitcase and cosmetics case directly up the sidewalk toward Lori's door, so she must be a roommate. He fumbled with the truck door, got to his feet and took a step toward her.

The young woman was very attractive, but he felt none of the zing he usually experienced in the presence of such beauty.

All he could think about was Kelli.

The woman not only invaded his sleep, but his waking thoughts as well. Maybe it hadn't been a joke or an act. Could Kelli truly be his soul mate?

The very idea made him stumble, but he ordered himself to remain focused on the reason for this visit. Lori's roommate would know how he could reach Kelli's sister.

He managed to make his feet function as God intended and caught up with the flight attendant.

Wanting to make sure he didn't scare her, he got a start on his charming smile, the crooked one that worked on women of all ages, and drawled, "Excuse me, ma'am."

She turned, looked him up and down and gave him an enticing gaze.

Oops. Too much charm. He toned it down a fraction. "Are you Lori's roommate?"

"Why?" She gave him the twice-over before he could answer. "I'm Bonnie Donovan, by the way. Who are you?"

"Bobby Gray Nelson."

"The rodeo star." It wasn't a question and he almost heard her purr.

He gulped, feeling awkward, and searched for some way to ease the tension. His gaze landed on Bonnie's luggage. "Can I help with your bags?"

"Sure." Her face lit up and her eyes got a
come-see-my etchings
expression. He'd seen that look before when he'd let that darn charm of his get too carried away, so he maintained his distance.

Bonnie opened her front door, turned, grabbed his T-shirt and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him.

Yowzers. He was really in trouble this time.

Before he could disengage himself, she nudged him against the wall, with her hands on his pecs and far too much of the rest of her body zeroing in on him.

He dropped her suitcase. How on earth was he going to get out of this one? And he still needed to find out how to contact Lori.

Bonnie leaned even closer. "I spent the day dealing with crying babies, crazy turbulence and demanding passengers who thought I was their personal maid. I'm so ready for some R&R with you."

He wedged an arm between them. "I just want to reach Lori."

"Bobby Gray, you can reach me anytime. Wouldn't you prefer to explore these friendly skies?"

Bonnie might be beautiful in a conventional super-model-let-me-prance-down-your-runway manner, but he wasn't the least bit interested. Not even when she leaned in for a kiss. He dodged her.

She came toward him and he gently caught her wrists to hold her back. "Sorry, Bonnie. I just need to know how to get in touch with Lori."

She pouted, giving him a kittenish look—the kind designed to lure unsuspecting males.

Before he'd met Kelli, he would have called Bonnie's pout and raised it with a cockeyed grin, but Bobby Gray was a man on a mission. He dropped her arms. "Do you know when Lori will be home?"

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a sly grin. "We're safe, cowboy. We've got plenty of time before she's back."

Well, they'd established that Bonnie might be Lori's roommate but sure wasn't a friend. Bonnie took another step toward him, closing the few inches of distance he'd gained.

He sidled past her and headed down the short hall into the living room.

Bonnie followed, removing her ascot as she homed in on him again.

He wasn't used to being the pursued rather than the pursuer and he felt an unexpected sympathy for the wild broncos he'd previously lassoed, both equine and human.

Holding up a hand to defend his virtue, he said, "Look, Bonnie. I'm only here to find out how to reach Lori. I've been calling all week and she's not answering."

Bonnie took a disgusted seat on the sofa. "Her phone doesn't work in Europe."

"France?"

"No." She shook her head. "Germany."

"When's she coming home?"

"I hate to disappoint you, but I can't answer that. How long does it usually take a woman to snag a man?"

That didn't make much sense, so he asked, "You have a number where she can be reached?"

Bonnie stilled. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Serious as a hoof to the head."

"I hope you're not disappointed."

"I won't be."

She opened her purse, pulled out a PDA, tapped a few buttons and wrote some numbers on a slip of paper.

Handing it to him, she oozed, "Good luck. I'm pretty sure her interests lie elsewhere. However, I can promise you some great luck if you call the second number on that paper."

It was a local number. "Yours?"

"You betcha."

* * *

Kelli generally spent her only weekend day off work escorting her paternal grandmother to church, then going out to lunch with her granny's cronies. Kelli enjoyed spending time with her grandmother, but the luncheon usually had all the allure of doing her income taxes. For once, though, she was rather looking forward to her grandmother's friend, Mrs. Finster, droning on about her upper GI. Kelli planned to hit her up for big bucks once she was softened by having Kelli as a captive audience.

As she shrugged into her sweater, the phone rang.

Caller ID said the caller was her sister Thistle. Drat. She probably wanted Kelli to fill in with Dad again.

"The answer is no," Kelli said as she answered the phone.

"Good morning to you, too." Thistle sounded especially chipper, as though she expected Kelli to agree without hesitation to the favor that hadn't been mentioned yet.

Kelli, however, had a good idea what Thistle wanted. It wasn't a favor Kelli wanted to provide. "Good morning and the answer is still no."

"Ha ha. I need you," whined Thistle in that tone that Kelli always fell for. But not today.

"I've filled in for you with Dad on your last three golf dates and you know he hates it when I play. I'm lousy at golf."

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

"Your latest
man du jour
is not important."

She laughed without humor. "What makes you think it's a new man?"

"Is it an old man?"

"Not funny." Thistle's irritation grew obvious.

Like Kelli wasn't annoyed? However, she shouldn't take her own problems out on her sister. "I have big plans today, so I can't."

"Can't you change them? I really need your help. "

Kelli didn't like her sister's wheedling tone, but her resolve slowly weakened. Drat. "Why do you keep setting up golf dates with Dad when you know you're going to break them?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Thistle replied, "You know as well as I do that if I don't golf with him he's going to cancel my country club membership."

"And you need that why? Since you usually swing your hips, not putters?"

"I can't show my face in the world if I don't have access to the Nineteenth Hole."

"Aren't there only eighteen holes?"

"It's the restaurant at the club."

Thistle had been forcing Kelli to play golf for admission to a restaurant? Either the food was truly incredible, or Thistle had an ulterior motive. "Why is it so important?"

"
Numero Uno
." Kelli could almost see her sister ticking items off on her fingers. "It's where anyone who's anyone hangs out on Thursday mornings."

Since Kelli wasn't anyone's anyone, she kept her silence. Shlucks like her worked Thursday mornings. In fact, Monday through Saturday mornings.

Thistle continued, "
Numero Dos
. It's the perfect place to meet the right kind of guy. Which brings me back to why I called. His name is Austin and he wants to have coffee. Please, Kelli?"

Chapter 7

Bobby Gray didn't usually worry. The somewhat new experience had everything to do with Kelli Palmer, DVM.

Yes, he wanted to bring her to the meeting with his brother and their banker, but he had to admit that was fairly weak motivation for pursuing the woman.

And while he didn't know her well enough to state unequivocally that she was his soul mate, he knew her well enough to want to explore the possibility.

So, it was with only a few guilty niggles that Bobby Gray waited on the eighteenth fairway at the country club for Kelli's father to drive through.

Bobby Gray felt bad about consulting Kelli's father, but not enough to leave. A morsel of remorse also plagued him about the flight attendant roommate. Yes, he'd avoided her gropes. Yes, he was still trying to contact Lori, too.

He had tried the number Bonnie had given him. Evidently she was staying at some German Bed and Breakfast because the woman who answered the phone said, "Rhineland Castle.
Guten tag
."

He asked to speak with Lori Palmer.

"
Nein
. No
Frau Palmer
here," the woman replied with a strong German accent.

"Miss," he said. "Miss Lori Palmer."

"No Lori here." The call was abruptly disconnected.

Bobby Gray called back and got the same response. "No Lori," and the hang-up. Would he have to fly to Germany to find her?

He would if he had to, but he had a better idea in the meantime.

He'd learned Clark Palmer was golfing this afternoon and Bobby Gray figured this was a great opportunity to garner some support for his efforts with Kelli. How could she turn him down if both her father and her baby sister approved?

The hot Texas sun beat down on Bobby Gray's head where he waited on the golf course for Mr. Palmer.

It had to be a hundred degrees in the shade and Bobby Gray hadn't thought to dress for being outside so long. Swim trunks would have been more suitable than the jeans he wore. Even though he'd been standing beneath a tree, hoping for a little shade, the wind kept kicking up and moving what little shade was available.

Waiting for Mr. Palmer was thirsty work and Bobby Gray wondered if he had time to grab a soda before the man reached the eighteenth hole.

He was taking a step toward the clubhouse in search of liquid sustenance when a clump of sod too large to be called a divot flew through the air straight toward his head.

He ducked.

That was odd.

He glanced in the direction the turf had flown from, still trying to come up with a conversation starter with Kelli's dad, but Bobby Gray couldn't see anything through the foliage.

He had planned to wing it, but each time he imagined the scenario, all he could think of was a soda can beaded with moisture—just like him thanks to the Texas heat. Thinking this hard didn't usually make him break out in such a sweat.

Should he come right out and, after reintroducing himself, ask for Mr. Palmer's backing? It hadn't been a great idea to start with and the longer he waited, the more it seemed like a stupid idea.

He heard a loud thud and he turned to see what was wrong. The head of a golf club flew toward him. He ducked, again.