Read Online Long, Tall Texans: Calhoun by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diana Palmer
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Love Stories, Texas, Short Stories (Single Author), Cowboys, Ranchers, Cowboys - Texas, Ranchers - Texas
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Justin," she said gently. She smiled. "You'll make some lucky girl a nice husband one day."
His expression hardened, and the humor went out of his dark eyes. "That's a mistake I won't make," he said.
"I've had my fill of involvement"
"You never asked about Shelby's side of it," Abby reminded him. "You wouldn't even listen, Calhoun said."
"She said it all when she gave me back the ring. And I don't want to discuss it, Abby," he cautioned, his eyes flashing warning signals as he rose. "I talk to no one about Shelby. Not even you."
She backed down. "Okay," she said gently. "I won't pry."
"Let's go," he said, reaching for the check. "We'll take two hours getting home, and I hope Calhoun has kittens when we get there."
"I doubt he'll notice," Abby said miserably. "She was very pretty."
"Looks don't count in the long run," he replied. He looked at Abby. "Odd, isn't it, how embarrassed he was when you saw him with her?"
She turned away. "I'm tired. But it was a lovely dinner. Thank you."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Don't thank me. I had a good time. It beats watching movies at home, anyway." He chuckled gently.
Abby wanted to ask him why he never dated anyone and whether he was still carrying a torch for Shelby Jacobs after six years. Calhoun had said he was, but Justin was a clam when it came to his private life. And Abby wasn't about to pry any further. She wasn't that brave, not even with a pina colada inside her.
Chapter Five
Abby was miserable by the time they got home. She'd done nothing but think of Calhoun and the model.
Justin had been kind, talking as if she were really listening to him. But she was reliving those few tempestuous minutes in Calhoun's Jaguar, when he'd come so close to kissing her and then had insulted her so terribly. She didn't understand his hot-and-cold attitude or his irritability. She didn't understand anything anymore.
Justin parked his elegant black Thunderbird in the garage, and Abby was surprised to find Calhoun's Jaguar already there.
"Well, well, look who's home," Justin murmured, glancing at Abby. "I guess he felt like an early night."
"Maybe he was exhausted," Abby said coldly.
Justin didn't comment, but he seemed highly amused and smug about something.
Calhoun was in the living room with the brandy bottle when they got home. He was down to his white shirtsleeves, which he'd rolled up to his elbows. His shirt was almost completely open in front, and Abby had to bite her lip to keep from staring helplessly at the broad expanse of his muscular chest. He was the most sensuous man she'd ever known, so powerful and tall and huge. Just the sight of him made her body tingle.
"So you finally brought her home," Calhoun shot at his brother. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Sure," Justin said imperturbably. "It's two o'clock in the morning."
"What were you doing?"
Justin cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, riding around. And things. Night, Abby,'' he said, and winked at her before he turned and went up the staircase.
Abby felt as if she'd been poleaxed. Now why had Justin said that? It had made Calhoun look frankly murderous. She cleared her throat.
"I think I'll go up, too." She started to turn, only to have her arm caught in a viselike grip by huge warm fingers and be pulled into the living room.
Calhoun slammed the door behind her, his chest heaving with rough breaths. His dark eyes were really black now, glittering, dangerous, and his sensuous mouth was a thin, grim line.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "And doing what? Justin's thirty-seven, and he's no boy."
She stared at him blankly. The sudden attack had knocked the wind out of her for a minute, but then her temper came to the rescue.
"That blonde you were out with was no schoolgirl, either," she replied as calmly as she could, even though her knees were shaking under her. She leaned back against the door for support.
His heavy brows drew together. "My private life is none of your business," he said defensively.
"Of course not," she
His expression hardened, and the humor went out of his dark eyes. "That's a mistake I won't make," he said.
"I've had my fill of involvement"
"You never asked about Shelby's side of it," Abby reminded him. "You wouldn't even listen, Calhoun said."
"She said it all when she gave me back the ring. And I don't want to discuss it, Abby," he cautioned, his eyes flashing warning signals as he rose. "I talk to no one about Shelby. Not even you."
She backed down. "Okay," she said gently. "I won't pry."
"Let's go," he said, reaching for the check. "We'll take two hours getting home, and I hope Calhoun has kittens when we get there."
"I doubt he'll notice," Abby said miserably. "She was very pretty."
"Looks don't count in the long run," he replied. He looked at Abby. "Odd, isn't it, how embarrassed he was when you saw him with her?"
She turned away. "I'm tired. But it was a lovely dinner. Thank you."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Don't thank me. I had a good time. It beats watching movies at home, anyway." He chuckled gently.
Abby wanted to ask him why he never dated anyone and whether he was still carrying a torch for Shelby Jacobs after six years. Calhoun had said he was, but Justin was a clam when it came to his private life. And Abby wasn't about to pry any further. She wasn't that brave, not even with a pina colada inside her.
Chapter Five
Abby was miserable by the time they got home. She'd done nothing but think of Calhoun and the model.
Justin had been kind, talking as if she were really listening to him. But she was reliving those few tempestuous minutes in Calhoun's Jaguar, when he'd come so close to kissing her and then had insulted her so terribly. She didn't understand his hot-and-cold attitude or his irritability. She didn't understand anything anymore.
Justin parked his elegant black Thunderbird in the garage, and Abby was surprised to find Calhoun's Jaguar already there.
"Well, well, look who's home," Justin murmured, glancing at Abby. "I guess he felt like an early night."
"Maybe he was exhausted," Abby said coldly.
Justin didn't comment, but he seemed highly amused and smug about something.
Calhoun was in the living room with the brandy bottle when they got home. He was down to his white shirtsleeves, which he'd rolled up to his elbows. His shirt was almost completely open in front, and Abby had to bite her lip to keep from staring helplessly at the broad expanse of his muscular chest. He was the most sensuous man she'd ever known, so powerful and tall and huge. Just the sight of him made her body tingle.
"So you finally brought her home," Calhoun shot at his brother. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Sure," Justin said imperturbably. "It's two o'clock in the morning."
"What were you doing?"
Justin cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, riding around. And things. Night, Abby,'' he said, and winked at her before he turned and went up the staircase.
Abby felt as if she'd been poleaxed. Now why had Justin said that? It had made Calhoun look frankly murderous. She cleared her throat.
"I think I'll go up, too." She started to turn, only to have her arm caught in a viselike grip by huge warm fingers and be pulled into the living room.
Calhoun slammed the door behind her, his chest heaving with rough breaths. His dark eyes were really black now, glittering, dangerous, and his sensuous mouth was a thin, grim line.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "And doing what? Justin's thirty-seven, and he's no boy."
She stared at him blankly. The sudden attack had knocked the wind out of her for a minute, but then her temper came to the rescue.
"That blonde you were out with was no schoolgirl, either," she replied as calmly as she could, even though her knees were shaking under her. She leaned back against the door for support.
His heavy brows drew together. "My private life is none of your business," he said defensively.
"Of course not," she
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