Her Sweet Talkin' Man. Myrna Mackenzie

Her Sweet Talkin' Man - Myrna Mackenzie


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the corner of her eye she could see Timmy fingering the cowboy hat he’d been wearing lately. The quick shy smile on his little face nearly split her heart in two. He had so few dealings with men that he was always eager for their attention.

      He stuck his feet straight out as far as he could.

      “Got new boots,” she heard him say as she turned her attention back to the road.

      “Yep. Nice shiny ones,” Ace agreed. “Your mom pick ’em out?”

      Crystal didn’t hear anything, which probably meant that Timmy was shaking his head.

      “No? You did that all by yourself, wildcat?” Ace’s voice was properly weighted with admiration.

      Timmy giggled at the nickname, and she could tell that he liked it. “Mr. Ford picked ’em. New boots for me and us all.”

      Silence slid into the car. Uh-oh, she hadn’t thought Timmy would even remember where the boots came from. It was true, though. Ford Carson frequently liked to spring surprises on the kids at the day-care center. For half a second she wondered if it was because of some lingering guilt over a son he’d fathered thirty-six years ago. Immediately she felt her own guilt. She liked Ford, and she refused to question his motives.

      “For all of you?” Ace finally said. “Your mom, too?”

      “Mommy? No,” Timmy said with a laugh. “Ony kids.”

      “Mmm, I see.”

      But Crystal knew that Ace didn’t. “It’s just the kind of thing Ford does now and then,” she said. “He drops by and asks the teachers at the hospital day-care center if there’s anything that any of the kids need. If one of them needs a hat, they all get hats.”

      But once again she wondered what it had been like for Ace. When he had needed a new hat or boots, who had provided them? She couldn’t help looking over at him.

      “Don’t do that,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not why I’m here. I’m not three years old anymore. I’m not here for revenge for me.”

      He glanced back at Timmy and she was grateful that he had at least considered her son’s presence, that he didn’t want to scare a child.

      Still, she hadn’t missed the intonation in Ace’s statement. He was obviously here for revenge for someone, judging by his words. And in spite of what he’d said, the fact remained that Ace did not look like a man who was looking forward to a reunion. If Ford truly was his father, then with or without the intent of revenge, things were not going to be easy tonight.

      For anyone. When Ford Carson was upset, the whole Carson clan was upset. Fiona had seemed amused by Ace’s presence, but then, Crystal knew what Fiona had been thinking. She’d been viewing him as a convenient new man in town—a match for Crystal. Fiona was always doing that kind of thing. Fiona had been purposely avoiding the obvious problems with her family. Maybe she just didn’t want to think about them. Maybe she knew she couldn’t stop what was going to happen and so had decided to simply get things over with.

      Crystal hazarded a glance at Ace. His jaw was set. Tall and strong, he radiated masculinity and power even sitting down. He seemed to fill up the space of her small car. He was a man you couldn’t miss in a crowd, a man no woman would want to miss…unless she was a woman who had a problem with men.

      Like me, Crystal thought.

      She wondered if Fiona wasn’t making a mistake in inviting Ace to this gathering where Carsons would be so prevalent. No Carson was easily forgettable, and it looked as if Ace Carson fit the mold perfectly.

      She doubted that this would be something anyone could simply get through quickly. Ace Carson was here to make a difference.

      A shiver ran through her at the thought.

      “You all right?” he asked in that low sexy voice.

      She smiled.

      “What?” he said.

      “I was just thinking how that should have been my question. Are you all right with this? With going to the Lone Star Country Club? The Carsons and the Wainwrights run it, you know.”

      “I know.”

      “Are you…hoping to become a member of the family?” Immediately she regretted the words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business.”

      “Don’t be sorry. You’ve got a right to ask. I invaded your celebration. It’s obvious my only reason for being there was to check out the Carson clan. As for wanting to be accepted, that’s the last thing I want. I have no interest in being a part of the family.”

      Then what? she wanted to ask, and her very interest in Ace troubled her. She shouldn’t be here with him. But then she remembered how he’d soothed her on the elevator, how he’d protected her from Branson, how he’d noticed Timmy’s hat and boots and drawn a smile from her reserved child.

      “I can’t tell you what I’m going to say to my father when I finally meet him, but…well, you probably shouldn’t be here with me,” he said.

      “You’re not going to… You wouldn’t hurt anyone, would you?”

      He chuckled. “My mother’s ghost would rise up and smack me good if I did. That’s not what this is about,” he assured her. “I don’t beat up aging men.”

      But that aging man had once been a very young man, a dashing young man who apparently had seduced Ace’s mother.

      Crystal glanced at Ace and wondered how many women had fallen under his spell.

      “I won’t hit anyone,” he promised. “I never intended that. And I would not subject you or Timmy to that.” He nodded toward her little boy who had gotten bored with the grown-up talk and fallen asleep in his car seat, his cowboy hat slipping off his head to lie half-crushed beneath his chubby pink cheek.

      She parked the car outside the massive structure of the country club in the large lot west of the main building, climbed from the car and circled round to free Timmy from his car seat. His body was heavy with sleep, his arms and legs rubbery, his head flopping over.

      “I’ll carry him,” Ace said, and he took her son from her.

      He held him reverently, her fatherless child. But Crystal also noticed that Ace stiffened slightly whenever the boy moved. And when she led him past the gardens, across the enormous porch, into the building and back to the nursery, he looked relieved to be divested of his package. It was obvious that though he seemed to like her child, he still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of having one of his own.

      She shouldn’t have felt that sharp little pain at the thought. After all, she’d already walked this route. But then, this was her son. She wanted everyone to want him.

      Not everyone would, though, she knew. It was just a fact of life, one she still struggled with.

      “All right, ready to meet the family?” she asked, striving for brightness.

      He placed a restraining hand on her bare arm, sending warmth and awareness straight into her. “Not a chance I’m going to drag you into this.” His expression was stern.

      She couldn’t help the look of confusion that crossed her face.

      He shrugged and smiled. “What I mean is, thank you for the ride, but I accepted because Fiona said that you were going, anyway, and because I wanted to make sure that the jerk who attacked you earlier didn’t follow you. He hasn’t. But now that we’re here, I’m not dragging you into this any deeper. The Carsons are obviously your friends. Furthermore, they don’t have any more reason to like me than I have reason to like them. In fact, they have every reason to be suspicious of me and to order me out of here. I might as well tell you that their suspicions would not be without grounds. I’m not a violent man unless someone’s being threatened, but I’m not likely to feel too kindly toward the family that made my mother’s


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