Plain Jane's Texan. Jan Hudson

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Matt Crow moved in another world, one far removed from her simple life. Irish, the gorgeous, super-cool ex-New York model, could handle this kind of stuff, but Eve? No way. A guy like Matt would have only broken her heart.

      Two

      Holding the mail between her teeth and juggling a ripping sack of groceries, twenty pounds of cat litter, her shoulder bag and a bulging briefcase, Eve kicked the front door closed just as the phone began to ring.

      The sack ripped another few inches. She dropped the litter and her briefcase and tried to grab the sack to save the eggs.

      Too late. The blasted thing split completely, and she only managed to mash a loaf of bread and a half gallon of Rocky Road against her body. The egg carton landed with an ominous splat beside the mushrooms; oranges and onions and cans went rolling every which way.

      The phone continued to ring.

      Eve made an exasperated noise, marched to the phone and snatched it up. “Heh-woe.”

      “Eve?” a man’s voice said. “Eve Ellison?”

      She spat out the letters she still clutched between her teeth. “Sorry. Yes, this is Eve Ellison, and I don’t want any insurance protection for my credit cards, cemetery plots or—”

      “Eve, this is Matt Crow.”

      She dropped the mangled bread and ice cream carton on the table and sank into a chair. “Matt Crow?”

      He chuckled. “Yes, we met at the wedding last weekend. Surely you haven’t forgotten me so soon.”

      Forgotten him? Fat chance. Hadn’t the memories of him nearly driven her up the wall for the past few days? “No, I remember you,” she said, fighting a tremor in her voice and trying to be casual. “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been one of those days—no, make that one of those weeks, and it’s only Wednesday.”

      “I’ve had a few of those lately myself. Problems?”

      “Lots.”

      “Want to tell me about them?”

      Something about the gentle tone of his voice made her want to pour out everything to him. Instead, she said, “I’m sure that you don’t want to hear my sad story.”

      “You’re wrong, Eve. What’s happened?”

      “You name it.” She tried to laugh, but the sound seem strangled. “I had a blowout and took out two garbage cans and a fire hydrant before I could stop the car. I received a notice yesterday from the Dog Warden of the City of Cleveland Kennel that I’m in violation of a city ordinance, and I have to get rid of some of my animals or risk having them seized. I figure that’s partly because of Elmer and Minerva getting out last week, and Elmer eating Mrs. Gaither’s sweetpeas or it might have been Mrs. Ramsey who complained about—”

      “Whoa!” Matt said, chuckling. “Who are Elmer and Minerva?”

      “Sorry, I’m ranting. Elmer is a goat and Minerva is a pig.”

      “A goat and a pig in the city?”

      Eve sighed. “I’ve been trying to find them homes. Would you like a goat?”

      “I live in a high-rise, but I could talk to Grandpa Pete about it.”

      “Thanks, but Elmer isn’t the only problem. The logical solution is to move to another house.”

      “You could always move to Texas,” he said, his tone conjuring up visions of hot nights on cool sheets. “My offer is still open.”

      Her heart stumbled. Her face flushed. He was obviously teasing her again, but she didn’t know how to handle such comments. She didn’t want to make a serious response and have him think that she was so unsophisticated, but she wasn’t experienced in social banter with men like him.

      “Eve?”

      Forcing gaiety, she laughed and said, “I was just trying to picture Elmer and Minerva and the others in your living room. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but after meeting Godzilla today, I might be tempted.”

      “Godzilla?”

      “My new boss. They brought him in as the creative director, but the last creative thought he had was in 1989. Only thing he had going for him was that he worked in a New York agency. That job should have been mine, darn it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to whine, and I’ve been babbling on and on.”

      “You weren’t whining or babbling, and I enjoy talking to you. We didn’t get to spend enough time together at the wedding, and I’ve been putting out fires ever since I left. Say, I’m going to be in Cleveland in a day or two, and now that we’re practically family, I was hoping that we might get together for dinner... or something.”

      A rush of panic swept over Eve. Even though he made her knees weak and her heart go pitter-patter, she felt completely out of her element with a man like Matt. Being around him too much might make her have goofy ideas—like believing they weren’t totally mismatched. She knew that he was simply making a duty call since he was going to be in Cleveland and since they were “practically family.”

      One part of her wanted desperately to go out with him, but another more sensible part told her that nothing could ever come of anything between Matt Crow and her. And even if they got together for a brief fling, it could cause awkwardness in the family later. Eve remembered a painful experience a few years before when she’d dated her friend Amy’s brother. When the romance fizzled, things were never the same between Amy and her again.

      “Eve?”

      “Yes?” Simply tell him nicely that you have other plans, she told herself, but she couldn’t make the words come out.

      “Is it Charlie who’s the problem?”

      “Charlie?” Suddenly she remembered that Matt assumed the Charlie she lived with was a man. Praying that God wouldn’t strike her dead for another little white lie, she said, “Yes. I’m not sure that he would approve. He’s jealous, extremely jealous, but thanks for calling. I have to run. My—my bathwater’s running over.” She quickly hung up the phone and slumped back into the chair.

      Charlie Chan, the half-Siamese, half-mystery cat who was the unofficial ruler of the house, hopped on the table beside her and sat regally, waiting for her attention.

      Eve scratched Charlie’s head. “Hey, fellow, how did your day go? Mine has been a bummer. Do you think Matt Crow thought I was a nut case?”

      The cat cocked his head. “Meow. ”

      “Yeah, he probably did. But seeing him again would be very unwise. He would break my heart, Charlie. And if he broke my heart, my mother would know and then Irish would be upset and drag Kyle into it, and he would be in an awkward position because they are cousins and very close. No, Charlie, it’s better this way.”

      But if it was better, why did she want to cry?

      

      When the answering machine came on again, Matt cursed and slammed down the phone.

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