Courting Trouble (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 3) (3 page)

"I'm so glad you didn't come back from the Peace Corp too changed," Bert said. "You wouldn't be our little Diedra if you weren't jinxed."

"Well, I had hoped I'd put all that behind me." She'd been more than hoping, but nothing had ever worked, not even two years spent in an undeveloped country. In some ways, it had been worse there, because her accidents could have much more disastrous effects, like the time she'd sunk a raft. She didn't want to think about that, though. Everyone
had
made it out of the river alive.

As Diedra put the last of the money away, she listened to Bert and Heather talk about a flower arrangement for Heather's mom's upcoming birthday. The plan was just an excuse, though. It was obvious already they were attracted to each other. Diedra didn't know why she hadn't thought of setting them up before now, since they both loved nature.

The bell over the front door jangled and Alexander Charles Sparks III entered the shop. Like the first time she'd met him, her heart did a triple backwards somersault. Down, girl.

Bert turned to stare. "I see your visual aphrodisiac has arrived," he whispered as he and Heather turned to leave.

"I'll catch you later, Diedra. Bert's going to show me some orchids for Mom." Heather waved as they headed to the exit.

Diedra's palms broke out in a sweat and she fought an urge to forcibly keep the two new lovebirds from abandoning her. Why did they have to leave her alone with Alec?

Chapter 2

"Hi." Diedra loosened the stranglehold she'd unknowingly applied to a packet of rosemary. She leaned on the counter for support and watched the man of her nightmares make his way through the shop.

With languid grace, Tommy jumped from the counter. The vibrations must have loosened one of the lines of twine holding herbs to the ceiling because she watched in horror as an avalanche of greenery crashed down on Alec.

"What the hell?" He threw an arm over his head until the herb shower stopped. He gathered the herbs into a pile, and brushed himself off. "Kamikaze Collards? What's next, Attack Asparagus?"

"Would you believe Kung Fu Cabbage?"

"I'd believe almost anything when it comes to you," he said, stepping over the herbs.

When his gaze settled on her, she felt the same magnetic pull that had tugged at her the last time she'd seen him, the day after the sibling wedding from hell. It was a pull she'd never been able to dismiss. In the years since, she'd kind of hoped he hadn't aged well and had let his body go to pot, but that wasn't the case.

He was tall, slender, dark complexioned, and everything she once thought she'd want in a man. Her insides twisted like the fender of a New York City cab.

He raised a solitary brow. "You wanted to see me?"

Oh, baby, had she. He was a vision right out of her best fantasies. And he looked right at home here among the ferns, making matters even worse.

"Nice to see you, Alec."

He winced, then smiled. Why did his eyes have to crinkle and make it seem as though he only had eyes for her?

She flicked a glance at the vacuum cleaner, wishing she'd put it away before he'd come. With the way the cash register had acted up, she'd rather be playing it safer. Oh, well. "I'm so glad you came."

She was a fool to care. The last time she'd seen him, he'd sworn he never wanted to see her again. At least he'd come today when she asked. She'd hoped he'd gotten over his dislike of her, but his scowl showed he hadn't.

It was a royal pain to have a mad crush on a guy who could barely tolerate her living in the same country.

Now that he stood in front of her, she realized just how
bad
she had it for him. Not only did her pulse skyrocket, but her stomach plummeted and her palms were anything but dry.

Alec hadn't changed much. He was dressed like the last time she'd seen him, in an atrocity of custom-tailored blue serge, and she had to fight down an urge to loosen his tie, wrinkle his collar and ruffle his hair.

The rational part of her mind insisted she get on with it, get right to their discussion of how to reunite Meagan and Jeff. Surely two minds could come up with a good plan.

He offered his hand to shake. Should she take it? She shot a glance at the cash register. It was quiet, so she placed her hand in his.

The instant their palms came into contact, she heard the vacuum firing up. She should never have touched him. Tingles and surging energy traveled up her arm like ten thousand ants on a picnic raid.

The vacuum roared into full action. Alec dropped her hand and stared over her head.

She turned to see what he was looking at, and uttered a mild curse.

The vacuum zigzagged around the shop, narrowly avoiding potted ferns and stacks of herbs.

"What's going on here?" He didn't take his eyes off the vacuum. "Has it developed a short?"

Diedra swallowed. She wished it were something as simple as that. She marched to the electrical outlet and pulled the cord.

The vacuum continued running. Now that was something that had never happened to her before.

"Is it battery powered?" asked Alec.

She sought some reasonable explanation, but there wasn't one. "Maybe it's a ghost?"

"There's no such thing."

"Mirrors?"

He shook his head. "Dammit, Diedra. You didn't make me come down here just so you could play another practical joke on me, did you?"

"No. I promise." Her life was tricky enough without jokes, practical or otherwise, but she hadn't been able to make him believe that last time, either.

"I don't know how you're making it do that, but cut it out."

"If I don't look at you and just relax, maybe it'll stop." She clamped her eyes closed.

He didn't say anything, but hostile vibes radiated from his direction. She couldn't blame him.

She was sick and tired of mechanical things always doing this. It was so embarrassing.

She ordered herself to concentrate and stop thinking how sexy he was and center herself. She'd think about Meagan and Jeff and how they should be together.

The vacuum went silent.

Blissfully silent.

She peeked at Alec.

He scowled at her.

Darn it, he was cute when he was angry. She liked the way his eyebrows seemed to hover like a dark cloud over his thunderous green eyes.

Feeling overheated, she fanned some air at the neck of her tank top.

The vacuum roared back into action.

This time, however, it seemed to have a purpose. Where before it had wandered aimlessly around the shop, now the mechanical devil seemed to have focused in on where they stood.

"If you don't cut it out, Diedra, I'm leaving."

"Please don't go. I'll figure out some way to shut it off. Just wait." She ran toward the out-of-control appliance and tried switching it on and off. Heaven only knew why it continued to run, because she'd already unplugged it. It continued its progress toward Alec.

She grabbed the handle and tried the switch a couple more times, but that seemed to anger it.

It roared and charged for Alec.

She pulled with all of her might, but it jerked itself free and charged at Alec's legs. It grabbed hold of his pant cuff and got in a vicious side-swipe.

"Ouch," Alec cried. "I've had enough of this."

He grabbed it up and tossed it on its side. She had to admire that. So would knights of old have vanquished dragons.

Its wheels spun harmlessly and she breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, Alec. It's my fault."

He already believed she was dangerous, but she didn't want him to think she was certifiable, too. In the past, when she'd mentioned her electromagnetic issues, people made fun of her, thought she was a freak or couldn't get away fast enough. And sometimes all three. There had to be a way to explain without having to go into any depth on the subject of being a SLIder. "Appliances tend to—act up when I'm around."

He looked so annoyed she expected him to stomp out of the shop, but he didn't. He just rubbed his shin and stared at her as though she were a lunatic. Maybe it would be better if he did leave.

"Let me ask you one question." Alec brushed a sprig of parsley from his suit and narrowed his eyes. "Is it your life mission to injure, maim or destroy me? Or do you just want to rip my clothes off?"

"While I'm sure lots of women would be thrilled to see you in the buff, I assure you this was an accident. I should have put the vacuum away before you arrived." He took a step toward her, but stopped and shook his head. His face was expressive and she watched frustration turn into bewilderment before it settled into tranquility. She'd watched him make that transition before, after they'd arrived at the wedding. How intriguing to be able to shut off or bury your feelings. It was a skill she needed to develop.

"What's your plan for reuniting Jeff and Meagan?" he asked with a raised eyebrow on a now calm face, as if nothing unusual had happened, and she had to admire his stamina, considering the circumstances.

Diedra opened her mouth to explain her idea, but stopped when he rubbed his leg again. She asked, "You're hurt, aren't you?"

"It's nothing."

"Sit down and roll up your pant leg."

He raised both brows.

She rolled her eyes. "It won't hurt you to let me take a look at it." In her best coaxing voice, she added, "Come on. Let me see how bad it is."

He glared at her, but she knew he was giving in. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the ladder-back chair at the end of the front counter, reassured because he put up only token resistance. "I feel responsible."

"You are responsible." His brow cleared. "I know! You and Meagan are ticked because I set Jeff up on a date with the Bartolome sisters, aren't you?"

"He's dating?" The blood drained from her face. If Jeff wasn't moping as much as Meagan, it was no use trying to get them back together.

Meagan had insisted Jeff was having an affair, but Diedra hadn't been able to believe it. Now, though—was there some truth to the accusation? "He's dating... sisters?"

"If you'd checked your facts, you'd have found out he took them to dinner, shook their hands and came home straight from the restaurant. Then none of these theatrics would have been necessary." Again he glared.

A wave of relief washed through her even as it occurred to her that she'd begun to really hate that scowl. "Honestly, Alec, I don't know anything about the Bartowski sisters."

"Bartolome. And that's another thing. My name is Alexander. My friends call me A.C. I'm never Alec!"

She'd always called him Alec. He'd never objected before. With a name like Alexander Charles Sparks III, his name could use all the loosening up it could get. He needed a little of that loosening up himself—and she ached to be the woman who'd do it.

"I'm sorry, but you look like an Alec. If it'll make you happy, I'll call you Third."

"It won't make me happy," he growled.

She knelt in front of him anyway, allowing his masculine scent to wash over her. She'd become pretty good at identifying the aromas associated with various herbs, but putting a name on his particular scent always eluded her.

The closest she could come to it was that he smelled clean, similar to the aroma of freshly washed clothes when they'd been dried on a line in the sun, along with a musky odor, uniquely his.

Determined to ignore the olfactory override, she slid his trouser leg up to check out his shin, being careful to avoid contact with his injury. The abrasion was already swelling and turning a ghastly shade of blue. She bit her lip.

She'd obviously been mistaken. She wasn't gaining more control over her accidents. They were getting worse. Much worse. She grimaced.

"That bad, huh?"

"It's pretty bruised."

He tried to pull his leg away but she held on. "Not so fast. It needs treatment."

He frowned and leaned forward toward her. "Are you going to tell me why you called?"

She looked up, tensing at his sharp tone. Their faces were so close his breath wisped tendrils of her hair. She forced herself to concentrate on why she had contacted him, rather than his lips, which were just a little too close for comfort.