Suddenly Texan (7 page)

“No! I wear jeans, sweaters and sweats.” She wasn't going to go if all the other women were in cocktail dresses. Sparkly? Not in her limited wardrobe.

“Do you want me to get you an outfit?”

“No! Absolutely not. You can't buy me clothes.” Dinner was one thing, but clothes meant the relationship was on an entirely different level. “I'll think of something.” Maybe she could glue some glitter on her sweats. Or not.

“Why don't you ask around? The regular lunch ladies are going to be there so they can let you know what they're wearing.”

“I'll do that,” she said, thinking it might be good to talk to a few of them anyway.

“You'll look great, no matter what you wear,” Leo said, stepping close enough that their legs brushed.

“Thanks, but that's not really the point.”

“I admit I don't understand women's fashion.”

“I just want to be appropriate. It would be disrespectful to show up in old jeans and a sweatshirt if everyone else is wearing party clothes.”

“No one is going to judge you for not bringing party clothes to our small town.”

“When I leave, I don't want people here to think…well, just unflattering things about me.”

“Why would they?”

Darn it. She'd said too much. Now he had that gleam in his eye, the “chase is on” look that meant he wanted to pursue this line of questioning until he got her to admit something big.

Like she didn't want people to think that Cal Crawford's sister was an ill-mannered opportunist.

“So, I guess I'll see you later,” she said, changing the subject.

“You most certainly will. Now that we have our evening planned, do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

The kiss. What did they need to talk about? “Why?”

“Because I still don't understand why you ran out of Dewey's and then wouldn't tell me what upset you.”

She set her empty coffee cup on the end table and clasped her hands together. “Sometimes…I just miss having a family. I didn't know my father, and my mother is dead, and even the couple who took me in when my mother died have gotten a divorce. I got overwhelmed.” She shrugged. “It happens. Don't worry about it.”

“I worry about
you.
You deserve to be happy.”

She couldn't remember anyone ever saying that to her before. Her mother used to say, “I hope you can be happy,” which wasn't the same as
deserving
something. “I'm a very happy person ninety-nine percent of the time.”

He looked intently at her for a moment, then said, “Okay, I'll accept that. There's just one more thing.”

She looked up into his blue eyes. “What?”

“This,” he said, reaching down, lifting her from
the sofa until she stood toe-to-toe with him. His arms snaked around her and pulled her close.

She felt a momentary sense of panic. This was morning, daylight. There was no magical sense of being alone at night. She hadn't just experienced the monumental event of meeting her brother. There was no reason to feel as if she and Leo were the only two people on Earth, as if she needed to cling to him for dear life.

But she did.

He lowered his head, lids closed, and then he kissed her. Hot, deep, coffee-flavored kisses. Sweet and vanilla scented, heady and strong and wet. She clung to his shirt, his shoulders, as his mouth slanted over hers. He seemed to kiss her forever, until her head started swimming and her legs turned to rubber.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss as they both sucked in air. She clung to him and he held her tightly against his pounding heart.

“I just wanted to make sure,” he said after a moment, “that last night was real. That I didn't dream we'd kissed outside in the moonlight.”

“I don't know about the moonlight.” Truly, she didn't remember if the moon had been full or crescent or new. “But it was real.”

“Yes, it was,” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “I've got to go to work.”

She nodded. “Me, too.”

“I'll see you later.” He hadn't yet released her.

In a moment he stepped back and her arms slipped away. His shirt had the impression of two hands grasping it. She smoothed away the wrinkles as best she could. “See you later.”

He pulled a key ring from his pocket and handed her
one marked “office.”

“Seven o'clock at the community center. Do you know where it is?”

She nodded. That's where the library was.

“Okay, then.” He looked at her intensely for another moment, then turned and walked away. The door closed behind him.

She sank down to the couch. Wow. She was in so much trouble, thinking she could control this relationship. She couldn't…but that didn't mean she wanted to walk away from Leo. Not yet, anyway.

Amanda hurried to the community center, her borrowed clothes flapping on the hanger she carried. The sunset had almost faded into the horizon as she opened the front door.

Leo had called her late in the afternoon, asking her to fill in at the last minute for Cassie McMann. Cassie's horse had stomped on her foot that morning as she was unsaddling him, leaving her with a bruise “the size of Texas.” She'd decided there was no way she could stand at the table and deal cards and compute payouts.

Amanda had showered, put on makeup and dug her black boots out of her duffel bag. Leo had promised her he'd shuffle some dealers around so that she could take over at the roulette wheel. She appreciated that because she wasn't very good at blackjack or craps.

She stopped inside the center and looked around. The overhead lights were all on, the tables set up and draped in red, chips and cards stacked neatly. Several of the dealers were getting last-minute practice sessions.

And then she spotted Leo.

He stood across the room, talking to a middle-age lady near the buffet table. He looked…stunning. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, and not a blond hair was out of
place. He looked as if he'd stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine or cologne ad. Or maybe just walked into a casino in Monte Carlo after lounging all day on his yacht.

She was in so much trouble. Leo was a world-class kisser with a sophisticated sense of style. She was a small-time genealogy researcher and garage sale aficionado. Not the best mix for any kind of relationship, even a temporary one.

He spotted her then, a grin breaking his handsome face as he waved her over.

She couldn't stand here ogling him all day, so she headed across the room.

“Amanda. Thank you so much for filling in for Cassie.” He smiled at her and hugged her with his arm across her shoulders.

“No problem. I need to change into her clothes,” she said, holding up the hanger with the black slacks, white shirt and sequined bow tie. His arm remained around her and she wondered what other people were thinking about this show of affection. Or if he was this friendly to all women.

“First, I want you to meet our community center director, Martha Chase. Martha, this is our newest resident, Amanda Allen.”

Amanda shook hands with the wiry, energetic middle-aged woman. “Nice to meet you, but I'm not exactly a resident. I'm passing through.”

“Leo told me you offered to fill in tonight. Thanks so much. The roulette wheel is a casino favorite.”

“I'm sure that's because it's so easy to play,” Amanda said. “Not that people here wouldn't understand the other
games,” she added quickly, afraid she'd accidentally insulted Brody's Crossing residents.

“No, you're right. A lot of our folks never go to Las Vegas or the casinos in Oklahoma. But this is for a good cause so they learn the rules all over again each year.”

“I'm glad I could help.”

“Let me show you the ladies' room,” Martha offered. “That is, if I can get Leo to let you go.”

He laughed. “I'll see you in a few minutes over there at the roulette table.” He pointed across the room.

“I'll be there.” Amanda followed Martha to a hallway that intersected the building. She tried not to be embarrassed by the woman's comment about Leo “letting her go.” He might seem interested in her to some people, but she hoped they didn't read too much into the temporary relationship

“If you need anything at all, just let us know,” the older woman offered at the door to the restroom.

I need to tell my brother that he has a sister and I need to stop thinking about Leo.
Martha couldn't help with either of those issues. “I will.”

“It's very nice to meet you,” Martha said.

“You, too.” Amanda turned to change into her borrowed clothes to participate in a charity event for Brody's Crossing, a place she barely knew.

Or, if things had been different, to take part in a fundraiser in what could have been her hometown.

 

L
EO'S ATTENTION SHOULD
have been on the dealer he was training, but he kept looking across the room at the roulette table, where Amanda prepared for the evening. Cassie's clothes fit her very well. The ruffled-front white shirt and bow tie made Amanda look even more
feminine, while the black pants emphasized her small waist and rounded hips. She stayed so focused on setting up her stack of chips that she didn't notice him admiring her.

“So, what do I do if they've already doubled down and then get another pair?” Burl Maxwell asked.

He'd been Leo's geometry and calculus teacher in high school. Even after more than fifteen years, Leo still had the urge to call him “Mr. Maxwell.”

“They have the option of doubling down again, whenever they get a pair,” Leo explained. “Just make sure they understand that each new hand requires a separate wager.”

“Okay. That's what I thought, but last year I worked the roulette table.”

“I know, and I appreciate you swapping with Amanda. She's never dealt blackjack or any other table game.”

“She's a cute little thing. She looks kind of familiar.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

“I can't put my finger on it right now, but I'll think about it,” Burl said. “'Course, in about five minutes we're gonna be mighty busy.”

“With any luck.” Leo looked back at the closed double doors. “Okay,” he said loudly, addressing the room. “Is everyone ready? Any problems at your tables? We're about to open the doors.”

Some dealers shook their heads, while others gave a thumbs-up sign and a few called out, “We're ready.” The ticket takers and cashiers also signaled their consent.

He looked around. The overhead lights were dimmed, the shimmering curtains of silver tinsel glistened and the two disco balls turned slowly, throwing sparkling
reflections around the room. They were going to have a record fundraiser this year, he could tell.

He walked to the roulette table. “Are you okay?” he asked Amanda. “Need anything?”

“I'm fine. I've practiced and all the chips are ready to go.”

“I'll see you later, then,” he said. He really wanted to see her alone. He'd missed her today, which astounded him, given how busy he'd been with his business and casino night.

After that kiss this morning, though, he shouldn't have been too surprised. Amanda kissed with an abandon that took his breath away. He hadn't been as excited about kissing since he was eighteen years old.

Before he could contemplate taking her back into the kitchen for a repeat round, the doors opened and excited voices filled the big room. “Here they come,” he said, and stepped aside as Ida Bell, Clarissa Bryant and Caroline Brody rushed to the stools in front of the roulette table. They were followed closely by his mother and Bobbi Jean Maxwell.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, leaning down and kissing her cheek.

“Don't you look handsome tonight.” She patted the lapel of his tuxedo. He'd worn it in spectacular high-stakes rooms at some of the best casinos. Now he got it out just once a year, for the local fundraiser.

“Thanks. Have you met Amanda Allen?”

His mother looked at him and raised her eyebrow, then turned to Amanda. “No, not yet, but Leo mentioned you're new to town.”

Just then his father walked up. “Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Amanda Allen. She's staying at the model
condo while she's here.” He watched for any recognition from his parents, but they just looked pleasantly at her. “Amanda, these are my folks, Beverly and Martin Casale. They run Casale's Grocery here in town.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied with a quick smile. She was already passing out chips and taking tickets from her growing number of players.

“Bev, you go ahead and play roulette,” Martin said. “I'm going to check out the buffet, see what they did with those shrimp I had brought in.”

“See you later, Dad.”

Leo turned back to Amanda, but before he could talk to her, Martha motioned for him to come to one of the blackjack tables. From then on he divided his attention between dealers and players, giving them rules and advice. After all, this was a fun night for charity, not a high-stakes game.

He had no trouble getting into the spirit of things, though. Sometimes, as he watched the concentration on the faces of the players around each table, he missed being in a real casino. He longed for the rush of excitement he'd felt each time he played with real money. Lots of it.

He glanced at his watch and noticed it was almost time for a break for his dealers. Martha would announce the results of door prize drawings and encourage everyone to bid at the silent auction.

He wondered if Amanda had contributed a certificate for genealogy research. He headed that way to check out the offerings. There was no rule against him bidding on a prize.

He was walking alongside the table, looking at baskets and decorated boxes of goodies from various
merchants. Some of them would make great gifts, so he might just bid on a few. His hardware store “basket” was one of the biggest, nicely displayed in a galvanized pail with a bunch of frou-frou tissue paper his office manager, Lola, had insisted was necessary to separate and stabilize the different items.

“Nice package, little brother,” Toni said, putting her arm around him.

“You're speaking of my hardware store prize, of course.”

She laughed. “Of course.” She leaned back and gave him a once-over. “You look pretty good, too, dressed up in that tux.”

“Thanks. Once a year unless I'm at a formal wedding or decide to moonlight as a maître d'.”

“I don't see that happening.” Her smile faded. “Seriously, how are you doing? Does casino night make you…well, not homesick, but you know what I mean.”

He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Really?” Toni seemed skeptical, but he didn't want to talk about this right now.

“You know I can't go back to being a player. Not like I was. And you also know that I'm not cut out for casual gambling. I can't help what I am, sis.”

“I know, but you were good.”

“Some people would say I was too good to be true.”

“I don't think that's fair. You were just using your talent.”

“Casinos and high rollers see it otherwise.”

“They're jealous.”

Leo shook his head. “It's all about the money and the prestige.”

“It's not like I want you to leave town. I love having you here, just down the street. But you had—”

“
Had
being the key word. It's over. I'm not going back to blackjack.” He tried to make his point firmly but kindly. Toni meant well, but his decision was final.

“Look,” Toni said, turning half-around. “Christie and Cal are here.”

“Good.” Leo wanted to make sure they stopped by Amanda's table tonight. Or maybe he could get them together during the break. Yep, that was an excellent idea.

And just like clockwork, Martha Chase announced, “May I have your attention please.”

Leo smiled. Maybe he'd get another clue to the mystery tonight.

 

A
MANDA FINISHED THE PAYOUTS
for the last turn of the wheel before the break, then stacked her chips. Several of the ladies at the table were just about out of chips and would be moving on. They'd been a lot of fun, but Amanda hadn't picked up any information about the Crawfords or Luanna. The only thing she had learned was that Myra Hammer and her husband, Bud, wouldn't be coming tonight—and that was just fine with the ladies. Myra and Bud were apparently grumps who were tolerated but not loved by the residents of Brody's Crossing. Myra hadn't been home all day, either, so Amanda hadn't had a chance to talk to her.

If the woman was so miserable, why had she been Luanna's best friend? What made Luanna gravitate toward a person who was by all accounts unpleasant?

Amanda looked up from her musings and found Leo standing in front of her table. “Oh. Hi,” she said.

“How are you holding up? Ready for a break?”

She rolled her shoulders and shook out her fingers. “Yes. I'd forgotten how much I need to concentrate.” She placed her chips in the metal box and closed the lid.

“The buffet is great. You could probably use a soft drink, too.”

“Yes, I could.” She looked at the people congregating around the silent auction table and the buffet. There was also a line at the ticket table for the cash bar. “Everything looks busy. Good attendance, I suppose.”

“Yes, a great turnout. We're raising money for new interactive video fitness equipment. The seniors especially have been asking for it.” He held out his hand and she handed him the box to carry.

“Sounds good. I hope the genealogy certificate raises money.”

He smiled as he placed his free arm behind her back and gently guided her toward the table. “Thanks for donating that. You've done way more than a lot of people who live here.”

“Well, everyone has been great to me. I'm staying rent-free at the condo, and you've taken on the task of feeding me, so how could I not give something back?” She spoke with a little flippancy so Leo wouldn't see how truly grateful she was.

“Somehow I think you would have volunteered anyway if you'd seen a need.”

She didn't respond to his remark. What could she say? Maybe he was right. But if she hadn't been warmly received by the residents of Brody's Crossing, she might have moved on more quickly.

If not for Leo, she might never have met her brother and his family.

They detoured to the ticket table and Leo asked the man there to watch Amanda's chips while she took a break. Then he guided her toward the bar, snagging a soft drink for her.

“It's on the house,” he said, handing her the plastic cup.

“Thanks.” She took a big drink and almost choked. Standing right in front of them were Cal and Christie Crawford, minus their children.