Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan. Christine Rimmer

      She braced her elbows on her dinky desk and wrinkled her nose at him. “What are you up to?”

      He smiled, slow and lazy. “Not a thing. I’m just saying you can count on me to help, that you’re a lifesaver for poor Erin and I’m here for you, Lizzie.”

      She made a shooing motion with both hands. “Out. Go. See you tomorrow.”

      “You sure?”

      “I am positive.”

      “‘Night, then.” He turned and left her.

      She watched him go, thinking what a great butt he had.

      Until she caught herself staring and made herself look away.

      After that, for several minutes, she just sat there at her desk, staring blindly into the middle distance, wondering why he seemed to be pulling out all the stops to be charming and attentive to her the past couple of days.

      It was kind of annoying, really. They had an easygoing, best-pals relationship. And suddenly, he was messing with the program, falling all over himself to be available to her, coming way too close to flirting with her.

      Worse than whatever he was up to, was the way she seemed to be responding to it. Getting all shivery when he sent her a glance. And … staring at his butt?

      Okay, yeah. It was a great butt. But still. It wasn’t as if that was news or anything.

      Really. The last thing she needed was to start crushing on Ethan. That would be beyond stupid.

      Lizzie tossed down her pen and stood up. She smoothed her hair and straightened her plain white sleeveless shirt. Get over yourself, Landry. Ethan wasn’t up to anything beyond being extra nice to her in hope that she might change her mind about resigning.

      And she was not crushing on him. Uh-uh. No way. Not in the least.

       Chapter Three

      At 3:10 a.m. Friday, Ethan clapped his brother Corey on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky man,” he said.

      “Yes, I am,” Corey agreed. “I’ll walk you out.”

      Jackson, who was good and toasted at that point, called, “Hey, where you two goin’? Party’s jus’ gettin’ started. ‘S’bad enough Dillon crapped out on us early.”

      The redhead on his lap giggled. “Yeah, you two. Stick aroun’ …”

      “I’ll be back,” promised Corey with a rueful grin.

      Jason, across the table from his twin, shook a finger. “You guys are gettin’ old,” he accused.

      Neither Corey nor Ethan argued. The lone bartender, left to close up the place when the party was finally over, shook his head and went on polishing the short bar at the other end of the room. He’d stopped serving at two, per Montana law. But that didn’t mean the partiers couldn’t bring their own and serve themselves.

      Ethan waved and left the private back room of the Hitching Post with the groom at his side. They emerged midway along a dim hallway and went right.

      Corey pushed the bar on the heavy door beneath the red exit sign and the cool night air came in around them. He waved Ethan out ahead of him and put down the stop on the door to keep it from latching.

      They stood in the quiet parking lot under the sodium vapor lights and Corey asked, “You good to drive?”

      Ethan nodded. “Not even buzzed. I couldn’t afford to get blasted. I’m taking Lizzie to Bozeman bright and early tomorrow to buy supplies for the wedding cake.”

      Corey grinned. He was a fine-looking man and took after their mother’s side of the family, with lighter hair and eyes than Ethan had. “Got news for you, big brother. Tomorrow is already today.”

      “Did you have to remind me?”

      Corey chuckled, but then he grew serious. “I owe you. And Lizzie. You’ve made Erin very happy.” His deep voice softened when he said his bride’s name. And it struck Ethan strongly: Corey was deeply in love.

      First Dillon. Now Corey.

      The Traub brothers were dropping like flies lately.

      Not that there was anything wrong with settling down. If a man was interested in that kind of thing.

      Corey went on, “I told Erin all about the Texas Bluebell Bakery, about those cream cakes and éclairs that could light up your mouth, and about those pies Lizzie’s French mama used to bake. Remember those pies? I loved them all. Especially the sweet-potato pie.” Corey stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared up toward the sky, a dreamy look on his face. “When I think of Cécile Landry’s sweet-potato pie, it brings it all back, you know? Being a kid again, before Dad died, when life was simple, when a piece of pie could just make your day …”

      Ethan did remember Cécile Landry’s pies. “I was partial to the strawberry-rhubarb, myself.”

      “Oh, God,” said Corey with a groan. “The strawberry-rhubarb …”

      “Lizzie still bakes a rhubarb pie for me now and then. And they’re just as good as her mama’s, believe me.” Lizzie. He scowled. Lizzie, who thought she was leaving him ….

      Corey lowered his head. He peered at Ethan more closely. “You’re lookin’ a little grim.”

      “Lizzie wants to quit.” The words were out before he even realized he would say them. And then he went ahead and elaborated, sounding more annoyed than he meant to. “She’s got a dream, you know?”

      Corey did know. “The bakery—but you were aware of that. You told me two or three years ago, after the two of you became BFFNB, that she wanted to open a bakery again someday.”

      “Uh … BFFNB?”

      “Best Friends Forever, No Benefits,” Corey explained with a self-satisfied grin.

      “Very funny—and it doesn’t matter that I was aware of her big dream. The point is I never really thought she would ever go through with it. What’s wrong with working for me, that’s what I want to know?”

      “Whoa.” Corey stepped back. “You’re really upset about this.”

      Ethan felt embarrassed suddenly. Which was ridiculous. He grunted. “Well, yeah. Yeah, I am. We’ve got a good thing going, me and Lizzie. And have you any idea how much I pay her?”

      “What’s that have to do with anything?”

      “Just answer the damn question.”

      Corey answered carefully. “I’m sure it’s a lot.”

      “You bet it’s a lot. She’s got full medical and dental. She’s even got points in TOI.”

      Corey’s brows drew together. “But she wants to get back into her family’s business.”

      “Hold on a second here,” Ethan grumbled. “You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

      “I am on your side. But Lizzie’s always struck me as the type who gets things done, who sees what she wants and makes sure it happens. She wants to open a bakery.”

      “It’s a phase, that’s all. She’ll get past it.”

      Corey only looked at him.

      “What?” Ethan demanded.

      Corey spoke with exasperating gentleness. “I gotta say I’ve learned a lot about women since I found Erin. Before Erin, I thought I knew it all. But now I’m kind of getting the picture that I didn’t know squat.”

      “And your point is, exactly?”

      “Ethan, I’m only saying I don’t think you’re going to get