Slow Talkin' Texan. Mary Baxter Lynn

the ladder to get the right box when she heard the buzzer.

      Wouldn’t you know it!

      If whoever had come in spent money, she wouldn’t mind climbing down. But if the customer only wanted a cup of coffee, she would not be happy. Immediately Ellen chastised herself for that attitude. A two-dollar coffee customer today could return tomorrow and buy a fifty-dollar gift.

      That thought sent Ellen scrambling down the steps and into the front room. She’d barely cleared the door when she froze.

      “Hi.”

      The last person she’d expected to see was Porter Wyman. Nevertheless, all six feet plus of him was leaning against the door, a smile strengthening the grin lines around his mouth and eyes.

      Ellen cleared her throat and tried to collect herself. She didn’t remember his being so big or so good-looking. Although he was dressed in worn jeans, a casual shirt and scuffed boots, attire she normally frowned on, she couldn’t find fault with those clothes on him, a fact that didn’t set well with her.

      “Hi, yourself,” she finally said, knowing she sounded out of breath. His presence had not only caught her off guard but flustered her, as well. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her with those unusual eyes, deep and mysterious.

      “What can I do for you?” She couldn’t imagine what he wanted in a shop like hers.

      Porter grinned and pushed himself away from the door. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

      “You sound surprised,” she responded, stiffening.

      He shrugged. “Tell the truth, I didn’t know what to expect. This isn’t my thing, you know.”

      No kidding, she wanted to blurt out, but didn’t. Not only would that be rude, but ugly to boot But then, she was in an ugly mood, and his arrival had exacerbated it. Even so, she was curious.

      “So how’s business?” he asked in an unhurried drawl, as if time was of no consequence.

      “Fine.” The stiffness in her body and voice was more noticeable than ever.

      She knew he was aware of her discomfort; his mischievous smile said as much. “I hope I’m not keeping you from closing up.”

      “You’re not,” she said meaningfully, with a look at her watch.

      “Good. That means you can finish and leave.”

      She blinked in confusion.

      “I came to take you to dinner.”

      “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, taken aback.

      “Why not?”

      Ellen’s heart was suddenly pounding much too fast. “I just don’t.”

      His eyes traveled the length of her body, just as they had the Sunday she met him, which brought another flush to her face. She sensed she was in for a verbal fight. He didn’t seem to be the type who took no for an answer, despite his laid-back demeanor.

      “Okay.”

      “Okay?”

      “Yeah, it’s okay if you don’t want to go to dinner .”

      Ellen opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

      “Later.” He tipped his Stetson and walked out.

      Five

      Ellen sipped a glass of iced green tea as she stretched out on the chaise longue on her patio. She shouldn’t have come home so early, but she had felt the need to get away from the shop for more reasons than one.

      Thank goodness the days were getting longer, which meant more daylight to enjoy her home and its lovely surroundings. She couldn’t take credit for the tiny, well-manicured yard, with its splattering of different colored annuals and tallow trees, but she could enjoy it.

      Not sure she or her business would thrive here, she had put off buying a home. Yet she couldn’t bear the thought of living in an apartment complex, where doors slammed at all hours and the neighbors’ voices carried through the walls.

      When a realtor she had contacted found this patio home for rent, she’d snapped it up. She hadn’t been sorry, especially since it was new; she was its first occupant.