Diana Palmer Texan Lovers. Diana Palmer
“Certainly, dear. Excuse us, won’t you, Justin?” the white-haired woman asked politely, and started out of the restaurant ahead of Abby.
Justin unexpectedly caught Abby’s upper arm and drew her back. “Don’t panic,” he said quietly. “I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Do you want a drink?”
She looked up, almost in tears at his unexpected understanding. “Could I have a piña colada with just a little rum?” she asked.
“I’ll order it. Keep your chin up.”
She smiled at him softly. “Thanks, big brother,” she said gently.
He grinned. “Any time. Get going.”
She glanced away in time to catch Calhoun’s dark eyes. She nodded her head at him and turned away with no apparent haste.
Ten minutes later, she and Mrs. Jones returned to find Calhoun about to leave the table, the blonde still clinging to his arm. He looked up at Abby. His face was unreadable, but there was something in his expression that disturbed her. She wasn’t about to let it show, though. Lovesick calf, indeed. She’d show him, by gosh.
She smiled. “Hi, Calhoun!” she said easily, sliding into the chair next to Justin’s. “Isn’t this a nice place? Justin decided I needed a night on the town. Wasn’t that sweet of him?” She picked up her piña colada and took a big sip, relieved to find that it had barely enough rum to taste and even more relieved that her hand didn’t shake and betray her shattered nerves.
“She’s a big girl now,” Justin told his brother, leaning back in his chair arrogantly and daring Calhoun to say a word. His cool smile and level, cold stare had a real impact, even on his brother.
But Calhoun didn’t look any too pleased at the implication of the remark, especially when Justin slid an arm around Abby’s shoulders. In fact, Calhoun seemed almost ready to leap forward and shake his brother loose from Abby.
“I’m tired,” the blonde sighed, nuzzling her face against Calhoun’s arm. “I need some sleep. Eventually,” she teased gently, with a meaningful look at Calhoun’s rigid expression.
Abby lifted her chin, looking straight at him. “Enjoy yourself, big brother,” she said with forced gaiety. She even managed a smile. Thank God for Justin. She lifted her glass, took a sip of her drink and winked at the blonde, who smiled at her, obviously thinking Abby was a relative and no threat even if she wasn’t.
Calhoun was trying to find his voice. The sight of Abby with his brother was killing him. He hadn’t even considered that possibility. And while Justin might not be a playboy, he was a mature, very masculine man, and he had, after all, attracted a beauty like Shelby Jacobs.
Calhoun hadn’t meant to ask the blonde out. She was a last-ditch stand against what he was feeling for Abby, and a very platonic one at that. He didn’t even want her physically; she was just someone to talk to and be with who didn’t threaten his emotions. But he’d never thought Abby might see him with her. It cut him to the bone, embarrassed him. Did Abby care? Try as he might, he couldn’t find the slightest hint of jealousy in her face. She was wearing more makeup than usual, and that dress suited her. She looked lovely. Had Justin noticed?
“I said, I’d really like to go home, Cal,” the blonde drawled, laughing. “Can we, please? I’ve had a long day. I’m a model,” she added. “And we had a showing this afternoon. My feet are killing me, however unromantic that sounds.”
“Of course,” Calhoun said quietly. He took her arm. “I’ll see you later,” he told Justin.
“Sure you will,” Justin mused, his tone amused and unbelieving, and he smiled at the blonde, who actually blushed.
Calhoun noticed then how Abby reacted to the remark. She lowered her eyes, but her slender hand was shaking as it held the piña colada. He felt murderous. He wanted to pick her up and carry her out of here, out of Justin’s reach.
But Justin had his arm around Abby, and he tightened it. “We may be late,” Justin told his brother. “So don’t wait up if you beat us home. I thought I might take Abby dancing,” he added with narrowed eyes and the arrogant smile Calhoun hated.
“Yes, I’d like that,” Abby told him, smiling.
Calhoun felt his throat contracting. He managed a smile, too, but not a normal one. “Good night, then,” he said tautly. He hardly heard what the others said as he escorted the blonde out of the restaurant.
“It’s all right,” Justin told Abby, his voice quiet. “They’ve gone.”
She looked up, her eyes full of tears. “You know, don’t you?”
“How you feel, you mean?” he asked gently. He nodded. “Just don’t let him see it, honey. He’s still got a wild streak, and he’ll fight it like hell even if he feels what you do. Give him time. Don’t hem him in.”
“You know a lot about men,” she said, sniffing into the tissue she took from her purse.
“Well, I am one,” he replied. “Dry your eyes, now, and we’ll take the long way home. That ought to give him hell. He hated the very idea of your being out with me.”
“Really?”
He smiled at her expression. “Really. Chin up, girl. You’re young. You’ve got time.”
“What do I do in the meantime? He’s driving me crazy.”
“You might consider looking for that apartment,” he said. “I hate to see you move out, but it may be the only answer eventually.”
“I’d already decided that.” She wiped her eyes. “But he hates the idea of my rooming with Misty.”
“So do I,” he remarked honestly. “Did you know that she made a pass at Calhoun and he turned her down?”
“Can’t I trust anybody?” she moaned. “Aren’t there any women who don’t like him?”
“A few, here and there,” he mused, his dark eyes twinkling. “I think you might do better to find a room in somebody’s house. But that’s your decision,” he added quietly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. You’re old enough to decide alone.”
“Thanks, Justin,” she said gently. She smiled. “You’ll make some lucky girl a nice husband one day.”
His expression hardened, and the humor went out of his dark eyes. “That’s a mistake I won’t make,” he said. “I’ve had my fill of involvement.”
“You never asked about Shelby’s side of it,” Abby reminded him. “You wouldn’t even listen, Calhoun said.”
“She said it all when she gave me back the ring. And I don’t want to discuss it, Abby,” he cautioned, his eyes flashing warning signals as he rose. “I talk to no one about Shelby. Not even you.”
She backed down. “Okay,” she said gently. “I won’t pry.”
“Let’s go,” he said, reaching for the check. “We’ll take two hours getting home, and I hope Calhoun has kittens when we get there.”
“I doubt he’ll notice,” Abby said miserably. “She was very pretty.”
“Looks don’t count in the long run,” he replied. He looked at Abby. “Odd, isn’t it, how embarrassed he was when you saw him with her?”
She turned away. “I’m tired. But it was a lovely dinner. Thank you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t thank me. I had a good time. It beats watching movies at home, anyway.” He chuckled gently.
Abby wanted to ask him why he never dated anyone and whether he was still carrying a torch for Shelby Jacobs after six years. Calhoun had said he was, but Justin was a clam when it came to his private life. And Abby wasn’t about