Rick touched her shoulder
Kate lifted her eyes to his, afraid he might see how much she wanted him to stay. He looked as intent as he’d been the first time she’d met him. With a tinge of softness.
She closed her eyes then she leaned over and kissed him.
Not a peck like she was thanking him.
But a full-fledged kiss.
He moved in and allowed his mouth to soften beneath hers. She opened slightly, tasting him. He tasted like spearmint gum and warm male, so she tilted her head and opened her mouth a bit more. He took advantage, deepening the kiss, sliding his hand to her jawline. His hands were big and calloused.
Something dangerous slithered inside Kate, a flash of warning. She pulled away, breaking their connection before she did something she might regret.
Dear Reader,
Sometimes a character pulls at you and begs to be written. Such was the case with Kate. Of course, Kate would never beg…just demanded to have her story written. As I wrote, I discovered she was far more than a snappy comeback or a brazen move. This girl had baggage—it was designer and bursting to be unpacked.
Kate’s childhood wasn’t easy, and it made her tough, hard and so much more vulnerable than the average girl. She needed someone to guide her, so I gave her Rick, a guy who’s already walked a tough path himself. He’s perfect for holding her hand, pushing her forward and folding her into his arms as she faces her past. Like many people, Kate has to empty her heart of pain and anger, so she can fill it up with love.
Time to go back to Texas with Kate. Of course, the same old gang is waiting in Oak Stand— Nellie, Bubba and crazy Betty Monk among others. I even threw in a mangy stray named Banjo. Let me know what you think. Write me at P.O. Box 5418, Bossier City, LA 71171 or through my website, www.liztalleybooks.com.
Happy reading!
Liz Talley
A Little Texas
Liz Talley
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
From devouring the Harlequin Superromance books on the shelf of her aunt’s used bookstore to swiping her grandmother’s medical romances, Liz Talley has always loved a good romance novel. So it was no surprise to anyone when she started writing a book one day while her infant napped. She soon found writing more exciting than scrubbing hardened cereal off the love seat. Underneath her baby-food-stained clothes a dream stirred. Liz followed that dream and, after a foray into historical romance and a Golden Heart final, she started her contemporary romance on the same day she met her editor. Coincidence? She prefers to call it fate.
Currently Liz lives in north Louisiana with her high school sweetheart, two beautiful children and a menagerie of animals. Liz loves strawberries, fishing and retail therapy, and is always game for a spa day. When not writing contemporary romances for Harlequin Superromance, she can be found working in the flower bed, doing laundry or driving carpool.
Where would I be without friends?
This one is for a few good ones:
for Dianna for suggesting I write;
for Rachel, the most generous person I know
(who else would take me to Commander’s on her dad’s dime?);
for Connie, who keeps me on track
and should own stock in Starbucks;
and Sandy, who I’m convinced
really can run the world better.
There’s a bit of each of you in this book.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU DID WHAT?” KATE NEWMAN asked, tossing aside the letter from the IRS and shuffling through the papers piled on her desk. Maybe she would find something to negate what she’d read. Something that would magically make the whole tax mess disappear. “Tell me this is some kind of joke. Please.”
No sound came from the chair across from her. She stopped and looked up. “Jeremy?”
Her friend and business partner sat defeated, shoulders slumped, head drooping like a withered sunflower. Even his ever jittering leg was still.
She picked up the letter again. Only one question left to ask. “How?”
A tear dripped onto his silk shirt before he lifted his head and met her gaze with the saddest puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen. Jeremy enjoyed being a drama queen, but this time the theatrics were absent. He shook his head. “It’s Victor.”
“Victor?” she repeated, dumbly. “What does he have to do with the salon? With paying our taxes?”
The small office at the rear of their salon seemed to rock as the reality of the situation sank in. IRS. Taxes not paid. Future in peril. Kate grabbed the edge of the desk and focused on her business partner.
He swallowed before replying in a near whisper, “He’s got cancer. It’s in his bones now.”
“Cancer?”
“He’s dying.”
Her legs collapsed and she fell into her swivel chair. “Oh, my God. What kind?”
More tears slid down Jeremy’s tanned cheeks. He closed his eyes, but not before she saw the torturous pain present within their honey depths. “He was diagnosed with testicular cancer two years ago. He underwent treatment, and the doctors said he was in the clear. We didn’t think it was a big deal. We never even told anyone. But six months ago, the cancer came back. And you know when he lost his job, he lost his insurance.”
Kate couldn’t think of a thing to say. Her feelings were swirling inside her, tangling into a knot of sorrow and outrage. How could this happen? How could Jeremy’s life partner be sick and her business at risk? The world had tipped upside down and now Kate was hanging on by her fingernails.
“I didn’t know what to do. He was so sick…is so sick, and there was all that money sitting there in the bank. I thought I could pay it back in time. Kate, he’s my life.” Jeremy’s last words emerged as a strangled plea before he broke into gut-wrenching sobs. “Please forgive me, Kate. I needed the money for his chemo. To stop the cancer. It didn’t work.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the leather chair. She wanted to cry, to express some emotion, or punch Jeremy in the mouth. But all she felt was emptiness. Then fear crowded her heart, choking her with the sour taste of failure. How could she have let this happen? Why had she assumed Jeremy was taking care of their taxes?
“I don’t