The Way to Texas by Liz Talley Read Free Book Online

papers yet.
    And that was a good enough reason to ignore the stirrings Dawn caused inside him.
    He listened as the slapping of her flip-flops faded away, then he got busy inspecting the soundness of the structure and cementing his ideas for the remodel. He was certain what he’d drawn up would be perfect.
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    D AWN RINSED AND FILLED the carafe with filtered water. Afternoon coffee was always a good idea even if she didn’t need the caffeine. She hadn’t been sleeping well, which probably had to do with Andrew’s latest attempt to get her and Larry back together.
    It all stemmed from an incident several months ago before she’d left Houston. Her ex-husband suffered a burst pipe in the small patio home he leased. Andrew had talked her into letting his father sleep in their extra bedroom. Big mistake. Larry had been on his best behavior, making his famous banana-macadamia waffles and picking up his wet towels. She’d even laughed at his jokes as he flipped the chicken on the grill. But the coziness had given Andrew license to envision his parents together once again.
    He’d also complained over the past few months about split holidays and trying to spend time with both of his parents separately. Like every other nineteen-year-old on the planet, he wanted what was easiest for him. Too bad if his convenience didn’t work for anyone else. And reconciling with Larry definitely did not work for Dawn. She had to figure out a way to make that point to Andrew wihout alienating him.
    So, yeah, she’d take that jolt of caffeine even if it meant tossing and turning all night.
    Jolts. There’d been plenty of them going aroundupstairs, and she could not, would not, pay attention to them. Look where following her libido had gotten her with the last guy. She’d been instantly attracted to the guy who owned the café across from her design shop in Houston. Murray had been good-looking, suave and totally attentive. He’d also been very married—a little fact he’d failed to mention during their impromptu lunches and romantic weekends. For the first time in a long time, she’d been happy. She’d been in love. And it had been with another woman’s husband. The thought still made her want to vomit.
    So she wasn’t listening to any crazy sexual static. Call her chicken. Or smart. Either way, Tyson Hart would be getting no play.
    She glanced at the schedule mounted on the wall. Blue, green, orange and yellow highlighted sections all awaited her perusal. That’s how she liked it. No danger. No surprises.
    The object of her musings stepped into the kitchen and ran a hand through his hair. The action caused the band on his polo shirt to rise above the sculpted biceps of his arm. The salmon color made his eyes glow. Dawn felt her mouth go dry with desire.
    Hell.
    â€œCoffee?” she said, before clearing her throat. She’d sounded like a bullfrog.
    â€œAbsolutely,” he said, placing a rolled-up paper on the granite countertop. “I ran out to my truck and grabbed the plans I’d worked on. By the way, Hunter Todd had a customer. It looked like a rat, though he assured me it was a dog.”
    â€œHerman,” Dawn quipped, pulling two mugs from the cabinet. “He’s the Chihuahua that belongs to the Sandersons. We’ve bathed him once already.”
    She poured him a cup and handed it to him.
    â€œJust the way I like it,” he said, before raising it to his lips and taking a sip. “Very good.”
    â€œSo show me what you’ve got.” She smiled. Another sexually charged statement. Jeez. She was losing it. But Tyson chose to ignore this one, and instead unrolled the plans with the enthusiasm of a boy with his prized collection of baseball cards on display.
    â€œOkay.” He set his coffee mug far away from the plans. “Here’s the second floor. The rooms aren’t labeled but you can see the library, nursery and