Free Southern Hospitality by Sally Falcon Page B

enough as he made a glutton of himself on a huge piece of her chocolate cheesecake, but it wouldn’t last. She was tempted to smear it all over the white vest and pants of his magician’s rabbit costume.
    “Buzz off, Eugene,” she muttered, quickly regressing to their childhood, and retaliating to his teasing by using his hated middle name. Involuntarily, her gaze strayed across the room to where Logan stood. Like her, he remained a little apart from the mayhem around him.
    “Ah, so there is trouble in Eden?” Trevor returned, unconcerned by her show of temper. “Come on, tell big brother all your problems. I know some truckers who’d be happy to break one or two of his legs in defense of my sister’s honor.”
    Tory groaned and took her eyes away from the commanding figure across the room. She turned to meet her brother’s gaze. His expression was concerned, in spite of his bantering tone. She gave him a slight smile to reassure him that nothing was wrong. “Fool.”
    “Yeah, well, I was just checking since he has such strange hours for dropping by.” Trevor looked almost embarrassed that she’d caught him out, although he’d stood by her before during some emotional upheavals, including her breakup with Reed. “We can’t have no stranger comin’ into town, messin’ with our women folk and gettin’ away with it, now can we?”
    His poor impersonation of T.L. doing Gary Cooper brought a genuine smile to Tory’s lips, and she felt a twinge of guilt that he was trying so hard to cheer her up, even if he had an ulterior motive. Her ill humor was as much her own fault as anything Logan Herrington had done, probably more. She was an independent woman with a mind of her own. A woman who shouldn’t allow a kiss to turn her backbone to the consistency of overcooked grits.
    She and Logan barely exchanged more than a half dozen words on the way to the party. While she pretended to keep her attention on her driving, Logan had been caught up in his own thoughts. The ten-minute drive had been as tense as their drive from the airport.
    “Spare me the macho male routine, Trev, and quit raiding Daddy’s B-western tape collection. It’s affecting your brain,” Tory said, giving him an exaggerated look of disdain. “Humble just doesn’t look right on the Planchet bone structure.”
    “Okay, but don’t think I’m going to let this drop. I expect the full story on our visitor from the North, sooner or later.” All his usual humor was gone from the assessing look he gave her.
    “Down, boy. You’re making more out of this than necessary.” Tory laughed at his almost villainous look, as if he really would have someone break a few of Logan’s bones. “I’m an adult, remember? I know how to handle an arrogant male and a Yankee who just happens to come all in one package.”
    “That’s pretty close to throwing a lit match in a box of dynamite,” Trevor agreed. He relaxed again, his wide smile flashing back into place. Almost on reflex, he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose over the spot it had first been broken by his little sister. “Maybe I should warn Logan about what can happen instead. I was only ten years old when you took me on, and I think ole Reed is still trying to get beer out of his ears from the night you ended your engagement.”
    “I never could take orders very well, but your nose was an accident, even though you’ll never let me forget it,” she returned indignantly. Trevor just grinned at her. “Now, Reed got what he deserved. Besides, the pitcher of beer was only half full. He just needed to learn that women don’t take kindly to being treated like peasants, unless he can find some bimbo that believes his barefoot-and-pregnant philosophy.”
    “Yes, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am.”
    “Turkey. You’d better save that for the next time Arnette finds fault, which will probably be the minute you set foot in the house, or when you find some woman who’s crazy enough to take