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“You don’t have to—” she began.
“We’ve been through this. I’ll see you to the door.”
She nodded and let him take her hand as they walked into the clinic and up the back stairwell to her apartment. He took her key from her and opened the door.
“I’ve got to get back to the ranch, Doc. It doesn’t run itself.”
“I understand. It was nice meeting you.” Geez, that sounded stupid. “I mean it was nice to… Well, it was nice.”
“Ditto.” He brushed his lips lightly over hers. “I’ll call you later.”
“You don’t have to.” Geez, shut up Annie.
“Don’t you want me to?”
“Yeah. Sure I do.”
He stared at her, his dark eyes burning two holes into her flesh. Several curly strands had escaped her ponytail and he tucked one behind her ear. “I changed my mind. I won’t call you.”
“You won’t?”
“No. I’ll pick you up. Around four. For dinner.”
“That’s awful early for dinner. Where do you want to go?”
His scalding gaze seared her from head to toe. “My place.” He kissed her again, and then jaunted down the stairs, whistling a lively tune.
Chapter Five
Dallas’s ranch house was even bigger and more ornately decorated than Dusty and Zach’s. The giant living room was decorated almost completely in shades of white. Creamy plush carpeting covered the floor. Satin eggshell furniture surrounded a smooth white lacquer grand piano. Draperies fell to the floor in a milky cascade. The dark mahogany coffee and end tables provided a stark contrast.
“This is amazing, Cowboy.”
“You like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“But do you like it?”
“Well, I suppose there are a few things I might’ve done differently, but it’s truly a work of art.”
“I hate it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. All this white stuff hurts my eyes. This isn’t a room where kids and dogs can play.”
“Kids and dogs?”
“Yeah. I plan to rip it all out of here as soon as I can find the time to hire someone to get in here and do it right.”
“If you hate it, why did you do it in the first place?”
“I didn’t. Chelsea—she’s my ex-wife—decorated it. Or should I say, she had it decorated. Paid some effeminate stick of a man an obscene amount of money to do this to my house.” He shook his head. “I hated it then, and I hate it now.”
“I suppose you’re not really the New York penthouse type,” Annie said.
“You got that right.”
