Texas Curves by Christa Wick Read Free Book Online

face as he greeted me with a long, sensuous kiss that had me sighing into him, my body floating in his embrace.
    "Invite me to dinner, sweet tea." He brushed his nose alongside mine, his gaze and the set of his mouth tense as he studied my expression. He'd made the same request on Friday, refusing to see me again until Monday after I demurred.
    "Invite me, Ginny. I won't ask again."
    I didn't want to think about what he meant by saying that. A man like Hawk isn't used to being denied, particularly by the sweet little hick who was all too happy to let him have his way with her in all other things. I didn't want to lose him. I wanted him to keep on touching me forever, his hands turning the lumpy clay of my body into something beautiful and alluring that only he could sculpt.
    The magic would end the second I introduced him to the world as my lover. I felt it all the way down to the marrow in my bones. People like Cherry Thompson and Bobby Jackson would want to know what a man like Hawk saw in a girl like me. Cow bells would mysteriously line the lawn of his leased home, the glare off their thin copper twisting his vision of me until he saw me just like Cherry and Bobby did. Even momma and daddy and Beau, as much as they loved me and thought I was perfect just as I am, would wonder why a man who could have any woman he desired -- a woman who was beautiful, educated, worldly and successful -- would choose Virginia Kelly from Tupperville, Texas.
    They'd tell me to be careful. They'd tell me Hawk was only using me for my body, that I needed to get over my crush and find a local boy, one who wouldn't eventually hurt and abandon me. Every last thought that had run through my head those last few weeks would come spilling out of their mouths.
    "Ginny." Hawk kissed me, putting all the mastery at his command into the way his tongue curled inside my mouth and his teeth gnawed gently at my bottom lip, his thumb stroking my cheek until it was wet with tears. "Baby, I'm not losing you. All this hiding needs to stop."
    I pressed my face against his chest, nodding and sniffling. He was asking me to take a chance, to trust him. I loved him, so I had to. "Just let me figure out how I'm going to break it to momma and daddy."
    He laughed softly. "Love, it's not bad news."
    "No," I whispered, my body awash with the same sweet thrill I got each time he called me love. "But it is big news."
    "Okay." Relenting, he turned me until my face pointed up at his and he could kiss me again. "But you need to do it soon."
    I nodded again. Hearing the rumble of Red's truck, I got up, wiped the evidence of my tears away and went back to my desk. Actually doing any work at my desk proved impossible that morning. Lucky for me, I'd eliminated all the little inefficiencies in the office that had always buried Red's earlier clerks under week-old logs. Nothing piled up anymore.
    When Hawk and Red left a little before lunch to check on several rigs, I started rehearsing what I was going to tell momma and daddy. I even practiced the words out loud so I wouldn't trip over my own tongue when the time came. I needed to project confidence, leaving no question as to what Hawk saw in their daughter. He saw what they saw -- perfection.
    The big, stupid grin on my face faltered the second the office door opened and I recognized the man standing in the doorway as Harrison McKinley. I forced a fresh smile and started reaching for the radio. "I'll let Hawk know you're here, Mr. McKinley. Would you like to go into his--"
    "I'm not here to see my son, Miss Kelly. I'm here to see you."
    Cheese and crackers!
    That did not sound good. All the air left the room and my vision started to narrow. "About what, Mr. McKinley?"
    I winced at the mousey squeak of my voice and fretted over my grammar. Father and son were Harvard men. I don't think Hawk noticed or cared when I slipped, he was too busy watching my lips and thinking about all the things I could do with them.
    Not appropriate,