The Way to Texas. Liz Talley

The man didn’t look comfortable, but he didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable, either. She wondered why she had wanted him to stay. She could have handled everything by herself. But something about Tyson seemed rock-steady and for a few moments, she’d needed his strength.

      “Hey, Tyson, let me buy you a cup of coffee.” She at least owed him that. The man had gone above and beyond. Besides, the hospital staff was about to move Nellie to a private room and Dawn could really use a break.

      Tyson glanced at Nellie. “Sure. I could use a good cup of coffee. Jack?”

      But neither Jack nor Nellie paid the least attention to anything other than their baby, lost in the little world they had created.

      Dawn’s heart pinged.

      She glanced back at Tyson and his eyes met hers. He felt the poignancy of the moment, too. She jerked her head toward the exit.

      They slipped from the emergency room and headed toward the cafeteria. Her sandals clacked on the polished hospital floor, echoing down the corridor. The sound seemed to heighten the silence between them.

      She searched for something to say, but words wouldn’t come. The adrenaline that had surged through her body during the past few hours had deserted her, leaving her limbs feeling shaky. She needed to sit down, have something to drink and force her body to relax.

      They reached the cafeteria and Tyson frowned at the door.

      “What?” Dawn said.

      “Closed five minutes ago.”

      Dawn sighed. “Well, maybe there’s a soda machine. I could use a shot of something.”

      “If I remember correctly, we passed a Starbucks when we got off 259. Let’s grab a cup there.”

      Dawn wavered. She didn’t want to leave the hospital. Nellie and Jack might need her help as they got settled in a room. She hadn’t been able to complete any paperwork and wasn’t sure where she’d put Jack’s insurance card.

      “Listen, they’re not going to even notice you’re gone. She’s got to be moved to a room, and in my experience that always takes a while. We’ll get coffee and pick up a few things for Nellie, like a toothbrush and something to change into.” Tyson took her elbow and guided her toward the entrance. Obviously, the man wasn’t going to wait for her to argue.

      And she had no real reason to fight against his suggestion, so she allowed herself to be pulled toward the double glass doors. His hand on her bare arm felt nice—warm on skin that had grown cold in the hospital’s overzealous air-conditioning. But what was even nicer was the thoughtfulness he displayed. Most men wouldn’t have bothered to think about Nellie’s needs. Still, that didn’t mean Tyson was even on her “guy” radar.

      He so wasn’t.

      They stepped into the glow of the evening as an ambulance came screeching around the corner, lights flashing and siren wailing. Tyson stiffened and dropped her arm. His eyes met hers and something dark flashed within.

      “You okay?” she asked.

      “Yeah, fine,” he said, stepping onto the flagstone path leading to the parking lot. “I served a tour in Iraq with the National Guard. The sound of an ambulance always does that to me. Police sirens, too.”

      “Oh,” Dawn said, tracing his footsteps. She didn’t know whether his statement invited further questions or not. Many veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were tight-lipped about what they experienced in the deserts and mountains overseas. She wasn’t sure it was good they didn’t talk about their experiences, but she understood not wanting to relive an awful time. It was human nature, plain and simple.

      “Not that the sirens sound like the ones I heard. Just reminds me of things I’d rather forget,” he said, digging into his pocket for his keys. She watched his broad shoulders ripple with the motion. He was tall, slightly taller than her brother, but his breadth made him seem much larger.

      She couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “Were you injured?”

      Silence swelled between them before he said, “Only slightly. I took a bit of shrapnel in my shoulder. I was one of the lucky ones.”

      Which Dawn took to imply that there were others in his unit who were not so fortunate. Damn. This man had been injured in places no one could see. That much was evident to her. She decided not to pursue the conversation any further until they knew each other better. If they got to know each other better.

      “I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly,” she said as they reached the truck. “Now, which way to Starbucks? I seriously need a shot of espresso.”

      He unlocked his door and climbed inside, popping the lock on her side of the truck. “Sorry, I should’ve opened the door for you.”

      Dawn shrugged. “It’s not a date.”

      “Right,” he said, shoving the key into the ignition.

      Dawn slid into the sun-warmed interior, aware for the first time how much the cab smelled of him. There were no greasy bags of food on the floor or flyers peppering the dash like in so many guys’ trucks. It was virtually clean except for two disposable coffee cups sitting in the cup holders and a few gum wrappers. She inhaled the scent of sandalwood, so manly and so unlike the ocean-breeze scent she had in her own car.

      They rode in silence, and seeing the familiar sign, Tyson pulled into a parking spot outside the door. When Dawn entered the café, she felt calm for the first time that day. Something about the familiarity, the jazz flooding the speakers and the half-burned smell of espresso soothed away the anxiety of the past few hours.

      She sighed and allowed her shoulders to relax.

      “Right choice, I can see,” Tyson said in her ear.

      She started at his voice so close behind her. His baritone sounded as warm as he seemed. In fact, everything about him radiated warmth. Honey hair, honey smile, honeyed words. For a moment, she longed to lean against him and to feel his solid body against her. She knew how he’d feel—hard and good. She took a teensy step back before she caught herself and moved toward the Order Here sign.

      “Absolutely,” she murmured, perusing the menu board above the barista who was busy steaming milk. Dawn ordered a café americano with an extra shot and a low-fat blueberry muffin then gestured for Tyson to order. “Go ahead. I’m buying.”

      He shook his head.

      “I insist,” she said, before realizing she couldn’t pay. She’d left Oak Stand without her purse. “Uh, wait. In all the hubbub, I left my purse.” She felt stupid. How could it have slipped her mind she didn’t have money? She hated that feeling. Being so out of control. At someone else’s mercy.

      “Don’t worry,” he said, sliding a credit card from his wallet and ordering a black coffee. “And don’t think I won’t take you up on owing me. I’m pretty partial to a good caffeine fix.”

      Dawn gave him a sheepish smile and found a small table near the window. She sank into the straight-backed chair and sighed. Sitting there felt like heaven. A minute later, Tyson set her drink and muffin in front of her. She took a sip and closed her eyes.

      “So that’s what it takes to make a woman sigh like that. I’ve been doing it all wrong,” Tyson said, as he sat.

      Dawn opened one eye. Was he flirting? He struck her as more the easygoing than flirty type. But every guy had a little flirt in him, though Tyson didn’t seem to need it. His smiles were so delectable, they made her toes curl.

      Stop, she told herself. “Yep, just give a girl a delicious cup of coffee. Now that you know the secret, you can’t tell.”

      “I feel privileged.”

      A comfortable silence fell between them. The café wasn’t particularly busy at the moment. No doubt business would pick up as couples stopped by for after-movie lattes and teens gathered for legal stimulants.