Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy - Diana Palmer Page 0,27
He touched her cheek gently. “We have differences,” he said. “My culture is not the same as yours. Even though my father is white, I was raised a Crow, in a Crow community.”
“I’ll study.”
He smiled. “That’s the idea.”
“But whatever the differences, I won’t mind,” she said. Her face was radiant. “I’ll adjust.”
He nodded. “I know you will. Meanwhile, we’ll try to keep it low-key. Okay?”
She flushed. She’d started this. “I should probably feel guilty, but I don’t,” she added pertly.
“Neither do I. Some things are inevitable.”
“Yes.”
He drew in a long breath. “Well, I’ll go home and try to sleep. If I can’t sleep, I’ll text you, and you can call and sing me a lullaby,” he said outrageously.
“I actually know one,” she said. “I used to sing it to Teddie when she was little. It always worked.”
He brushed her mouth with his. “It will take a lot more than a lullaby to get me to sleep, I’m afraid,” he said.
“Bad memories?”
“Very bad,” he said. “And not all from combat.”
She wondered if his father had anything to do with those, but it was far too soon in their very new relationship to start asking intimate questions about his life. Still, there was one question that kept coming up.
“Do you have a first name?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Yes.”
She cocked her head. “Well?”
His dark eyes twinkled. “We need to keep a few secrets just to make ourselves more interesting.”
“Spoilsport.”
“If you’re curious, you won’t mind letting me stay around here.”
“I wouldn’t mind even if I wasn’t curious.”
“We’ll still wait,” he returned. “Tell Teddie I’ll be here bright and early Saturday for her riding lessons, and that we’ll go to a movie Saturday night.”
She made a face. “No places to make out,” she complained.
His eyes twinkled. “That’s not a bad thing. We’ll make haste slowly.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Okay,” she said.
He laughed. “We walk before we run.”
“Some of us are still at the crawling stage, though,” she said with a sting of sarcasm and a big grin.
He just shook his head. “Good night.”
“Good night. Thanks for driving us.”
“No problem.”
He got in the truck and drove off with a wave. Katy watched him all the way out the driveway before she walked back into the house and locked the door.
Teddie was waiting in the hall as she started toward her own bedroom.
“Aha,” Teddie teased.
Katy’s thin eyebrows arched. “Aha?” she repeated.
“Your lipstick is smeared and your hair looks like rats nested in it,” Teddie said with twinkling eyes.
Katy cleared her throat. “Well, you see—”
“It won’t work,” her daughter interrupted. She grinned. “I like Parker,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows. She went back into her room and closed the door.
Katy laughed all the way into her own room.
* * *
It was two o’clock in the morning. Katy couldn’t sleep. She kept feeling the slow, soft hunger of Parker’s sensuous mouth against her lips, the warm comfort of his strong arms around her. She was restless.
She heard a buzz. She had her cell phone on vibrate so it wouldn’t wake Teddie. She picked it up and disconnected it from the charger. There was a message on it. Are you awake?
Yes, she texted back. Couldn’t sleep. You?
Same, he texted. Suppose you text me the Gettysburg Address? It might put me to sleep.
LOL, she texted back.
I had fun tonight, he texted. I don’t go out much.
Me, neither, she replied. I had fun, too. Teddie mentioned that my lipstick was smeared, she added before she could chicken out and not text it.
There was a big LOL on the screen. I had lipstick all over my face. Lucky that I live alone, he added.
She laughed to herself. Sorry about that, she texted.
I didn’t mind. But you might look for some type of lipstick that doesn’t come off. You know, just in case we can’t help ourselves one night . . . ?
I’ll go right to the store tomorrow after school and search for one, she replied.
And the clerk will go right out and tell the whole town what sort you bought, he teased.
She laughed. Oh, the joy of small towns.
They’re the backbone of the world, aren’t they? he texted back.
They are. I’m sorry you can’t sleep. Bad memories?
Oh, no. Delicious ones. I ache every time I remember those few minutes on your front porch.
Her heart jumped. She felt exactly the same. Delicious, she typed.
And addictive.
Definitely.
I have no plans to stop, he texted after a minute.