Clay (Texas Rascals Book 11)

by Lori Wilde

He’d promised to tell her the truth. How had she known he had a secret?

  Well, you stammered around enough, and she’s a sharp cookie.

  Back at the cabin, Clay took Molly from Tobie and carried her into the bedroom to change her diaper. The whole time, he kept worrying about how Tobie would react when she learned his true identity.

  He’d never meant to deceive her. He lived his life modestly because it suited him, not because he had some sophisticated seduction scheme up his sleeve. But he feared Tobie wouldn’t see his deception in that light.

  What if she never spoke to him again?

  Another thought occurred to him. What if she didn’t get mad at his deception? What if his wealth and family pedigree enamored her? Given her background, growing up in poverty as she had and her engagement to Dr. Bennet, perhaps she’d find his money more alluring than him.

  “Got myself into a regular pickle, didn’t I, Miss Molly?” He blew a raspberry against her belly.

  Her giggle rang out high and light.

  Love for his niece swelled in his chest. He cradled her in his arms. How wonderful it would be to have a baby of his own, one as sweet and adorable as Molly.

  “Putting the cart before the horse, aren’t you, Barton?” he said out loud.

  Settling Molly down for a nap in the Pack ’n Play, he went into the main room of the cabin to find Tobie running refuse through the recycler. She seemed as fascinated by it as he was.

  At the sound of his footsteps, she turned and grinned at him. “I still can’t believe you invented this. It’s amazing.”

  Was it his imagination or did happy tears glimmer in her eyes? She was proud of him.

  Wow.

  “This will revolutionize home recycling. I can see this product in every home.”

  “Thanks for your belief in me.”

  “How are you going to bring it to market though? Manufacturing can’t be cheap.”

  “I’m taking this one step at a time,” he said honestly.

  “Maybe you can find an angel investor.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Or a Kickstarter campaign.”

  “I’m not worried about the financing right now. I…” This was it, his opportunity to tell her he could fund his own venture.

  “I know it’s dicey given the circumstances, but Edward is always looking for great startups to invest in. I could call him—”

  “No,” Clay said firmly.

  “Yes.” She looked sheepish. “I can see how that wouldn’t be the best business arrangement. Especially if you and I will be seeing each other.”

  “We will see each other?” he asked, his voice on a hopeful note.

  “Aren’t we?”

  “I’d like—”

  A loud, thin wail ripped through the cabin. Molly!

  “Where is she?” Tobie asked.

  “I left her in the Pack ’n Play.”

  Together, they raced to the bedroom, Tobie taking the lead. The Pack ’n Play was empty.

  “Where is she?” Clay asked, stunned.

  Tobie moved farther into the room, got on her knees, and peeked under the bed. Clay threw open the closet.

  Another loud wail came from the baby.

  They looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Kitchen.”

  But there was no Molly in the small kitchen space.

  “Molly!” Clay shouted, ducking his head and raising the tablecloth to peer under the dining table.

  Another loud wail.

  It came from behind him.

  Tobie opened the kitchen cabinet door underneath the sink to find Molly sitting in the dark among the cleaning supplies. The baby gave them a tearful smile and extended her arms. Clay clasped both hands to the top of his head as Tobie picked up the baby.

  Holy smokes, the kid had scared him to death. Reaching over, he ruffled Molly’s hair. “Little girl, you’ve aged me ten years in less than a week.”

  “Are you all right?” Tobie asked him, drying the baby’s tears with the hem of Molly’s top.

  Clay shook his head. “I can’t keep going through this. I’m putting baby latches on the cabinets tonight. We can stop by the hardware store after we hit the car dealers.”

  “But she’ll be leaving on Monday. Why bother with the locks at this point? I’m here to help you.” Tobie jiggled the baby on her hip.

  “Because I’m not taking any more chances with my niece. She could have drunk the pine cleaner.”

  “But she didn’t. We were right here.”

  “However, she got out the Pack ’n Play and slipped in here without us noticing, and it’s one big room.”

  “She is swift and crafty; I’ll give you that.” Tobie chuckled. “This little beauty keeps you on your toes.”

  “Besides, this probably isn’t the only time I’ll be babysitting.”

  “Good point.”

  “Let me grab my wallet,” he said, “and we’ll get out of here.”

  The three of them piled into Clay’s truck and headed for Rascal. The first car dealership they visited was having a Spring Spectacular event with juggling clowns, balloons, face-painting for the kids, and free hot dogs. They walked around the lot with a pink helium-filled balloon tied around Molly’s wrist.

  The baby laughed each time the balloon bounced off the side of Clay’s head.

  Tobie was uncertain which type of vehicle she wanted. She’d enjoyed driving Edward’s luxury car, but now she was thinking along other lines. Sleek and sophisticated no longer fit her image. These days she was thinking “family.”

  A nice mid-range minivan caught her eye. She tugged Clay over to look at it with her.

  “Why do you want a minivan?” Clay asked. “It’s too much room for one person.”

  “I’m thinking ahead,” Tobie said. “I don’t intend to be single for the rest of my life.”

  “Got anybody in mind?” he asked.

  She almost stopped breathing at the look of longing in his eyes. What was he suggesting?

  “I mean.” He paused, looking worried. “Are you reconsidering Edward’s offer?”

  “No,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “But I do want to get married and have children someday and not in the distant future. I turn thirty next year.”

  “Howdy folks!” An enthusiastic salesman greeted them and interrupted their conversation. The beefy man with a bushy hipster beard slapped a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “You in the market for a new minivan?”

  “She’s the one buying the vehicle,” Clay said.

  “Aww, for sure. Step this way.”

  They strolled around the parking lot, looking at vehicles, the salesman chattering constantly beside them.

  “Let me guess,” the salesman said, waving his hands. “Newlyweds with your first baby.”

  Tobie started to correct him, but Clay prodded her gently in the ribs and shook his head.

  “You nailed it. How’d you know?”

  “I’d have to be a blind man to miss the way you two exchange meaningful glances.” The salesman bobbed his head. “Anyone can see you’re crazy about each other.”

  Tobie ducked her head. Were her feelings for Clay so obvious that a stranger picked up on them?

  “Excuse me, dear.” She placed a heavy emphasis on the last word. “Could I speak to you in private a moment?”

  “Give us a sec,” Clay said to the salesman before taking Tobie’s elbow and guiding her behind a minivan that was the color of a ripe eggplant.

  “What’s the big idea?” she asked, narrowing her gaze and shifting Molly in her grip. “Letting that guy think we’re married?”

  “Maybe he’ll give us a better deal if he thinks we’re newlyweds with a baby in the house.”

  Tobie narrowed her eyes at him. “Listen here, I’m perfectly capable of negotiating my own car deal, and I don’t have to lie to do it.”

  “Mister?” The salesman peeked around the corner at them.

  “Yes?” Clay glanced over at him.

 
; “I can let this baby go for a thousand dollars off the sticker price.” The man patted the eggplant minivan. “Believe me, I know what a struggle it is getting your feet on the ground after you’ve started a family. Me, I got three kids of my own. I get how tight money is.”

  Clay shot Tobie an I-told-you-so look.

  “Do you have something a little less purple?” Tobie asked.

  “You betcha. Blue, white, silver, black. Follow me.” The salesman started off across the lot. Clay took off after him, but Tobie grabbed his shirt and hauled him backward.

  “Hey, smarty-pants, how am I supposed to buy a car with you?” Tobie asked. “This is my car and my money, remember?”

  “Got that covered,” Clay assured her. “We’ll just tell him you want the car in your name so you can establish credit.”

  “I already have credit, thank you very much. My score is eight-oh-two.”

  “Tobie, the guy has already offered to come down a thousand bucks, and we haven’t even started haggling yet.”

  Tobie paused. He was right. What would it hurt to pretend to be Mrs. Clay Barton for a few minutes if it could shave a hefty chunk off her car payments?

  “Ready to make a deal…” His grinned widened, and he added, “Wife.”

  Wife.

  The word sounded so good coming from him. He linked his arm with hers and guided her inside the showroom. A tingle shifted down Tobie’s spine. When they emerged from the building an hour later, Tobie was the proud owner of a brand-new silver minivan and the detail department would have it ready for her to drive off the lot in two hours.

  To kill time until the car was ready, Clay suggested they take Molly to a petting zoo near the dealership. The next two hours passed in a blur of laughter and good conversation. Clay touched her often, taking her hand, resting his arm across her shoulders, patting her knee when they sat next to each other at an ice cream parlor.

  She’d worn blue jeans, a white cotton blouse, and peach-colored sandals. Several times she caught him appraising her with an admiring glance. Each time their eyes met, she felt an electric hit of pleasure jolt deep down inside her.

  He talked of the recycler, and Tobie listened intently to the joy in his voice. This weekend was a special one for him, as well. This week had ended in the culmination of his lifetime dreams, and she understood how much that meant because of her father, whose dreams had never come true.

  And she’d had the good fortune to share that victory with him.

  They rode a kiddie train set up outside the petting zoo. Clay sat with Molly in his lap, his arm around Tobie. Leaning into the curve of his shoulder, Tobie breathed deeply of the late afternoon air, scented heavily with an aroma of honeysuckle vines planted along the fence row.

  Right here, right now, her life felt perfect. All too soon Monday would come, and she’d go back to her silent townhouse. Loneliness seeped through her marrow at the thought.

  As if sensing her changing mood, Clay leaned over and lightly kissed her temple. Instantly, her body responded, jabbing her with pinpricks of happiness.

  Being around Clay made her happy. He was a poor, struggling inventor who might never make enough money to support a family, but Tobie didn’t care. She was a physician; she could support her family. All that mattered was that Clay and his niece had brought inexplicable joy to her life and had shown her what was truly important to her.

  At five o’clock, they went back to the dealership to pick up her minivan, then they went by the hardware store and she followed Clay back to his cabin on the Trueblood ranch. Tobie took Molly to the bedroom for a diaper change, while Clay prepared the baby’s bottle.

  When Tobie brought the baby back into the main room, Clay had just switched off his cell phone.

  “That was Anne. Holt’s mom turned a corner, and she’s improved. They will come home tomorrow instead of Monday.”

  Tomorrow? Molly would go home.

  And it would leave Tobie alone in the cabin with Clay. The idea both scared and excited her. Common sense told her she needed to find another place to stay until the fumigators finished with her place. The only real reason she’d agreed to stay there was because he needed help with Molly. Without the baby, there was nothing keeping her there.

  Except the hot look in Clay’s eyes.

  “Tobie?”

  She glanced at him, swallowing back the emotions blocking her throat. Molly had fallen asleep, the weight of her head resting against the curve of Tobie’s arm.

  “Are you all right?” In an instant, he was down on his knees in front of her where she and Molly were sitting on the couch. He took her hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice came out high-pitched and nervous. Was her face that easy to read? “I’m glad your sister’s mother-in-law is doing better, and I know Anne and her husband will be so happy to see Molly.”

  “You will miss her, too, won’t you?”

  “Yeah. Silly, I know.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said fiercely. “I’m going to miss her so much. I’ve gotten used to this little scamp rearranging my life.” Lightly, he traced a finger along Molly’s jawline. “Let me have her; I’ll put her to bed.”

  Clay eased Molly out of her lap and took the baby to the bedroom. Tobie sat fighting the feelings rioting inside her. Who would have thought Molly could have affected her so deeply in such a short amount of time?

  “Wanna feed the recycler to cheer you up?” Clay asked when he got back. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he shot her a boyish glance.

  “Sure.” She smiled, knowing just how much the invention meant to him.

  Lovingly, he caressed the machine. “I still can’t believe it really works.”

  Tobie got off the couch and came to stand beside him. “What do you plan to do with the money you make from the recycler?”

  He flipped the switch and turned on the machine, then fed a plastic bag through the chute. The machine gurgled and chugged.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Clay mused. “I thought I might buy a motorcycle and take a trip cross-country. I haven’t had a vacation in four years.”

  “What?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “From that frown on your face, I take it you don’t approve?”

  “It’s not my place to tell you how to live your life.”

  “What would you have me do with my money?”

  “Well, I’d recommend a less dangerous endeavor than a motorcycle. Personally, I would invest in mutual funds,” she continued. “Something stable and reliable.”

  “And super boring.”

  “There’s nothing boring about making money.”

  “And making money is the be-all, end-all?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She rested her hands on her hips and glared.

  “It means that constantly focusing on money kills creativity.”

  “So does struggling to make ends meet. A responsible person would invest in their future. You may never invent another thing in your life.”

  “Gee,” he said, looking hurt. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, feeling contrite.

  “Didn’t you?”

  “I’m just worried about your future.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want you to end up—”

  “Like your father?”

  Silently, she nodded.

  “I’m not your father, neglecting my child for the sake of my dreams. I’m sorry that happened to you, but stop painting me with the same brush. You can’t seem to see beyond your personal experiences. Open your eyes, Tobie. The world is three-dimensional.”

  “I let down my guard and told you about my childhood, and now you’re throwing it in my face?” Maybe it was wrong, but she couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed.

  “Ah, Tobie, I’m sorry if I hurt you; that wasn’t my intention.”

  She blinked and backed up. The miserable thing is that he was rig
ht. No matter how hard she tried to let go of the past, she was still looking at the world through the lens of that hurt little girl.

  Clay wasn’t her father. She knew that. And yet, she was so afraid of her growing feelings for him. “I should go.”

  “Why?” He looked bewildered. “Just because we’re having a difference of opinion?”

  “Molly’s parents are coming home tomorrow. You don’t need me anymore, and I… need my space.” She picked up her purse from the floor next to the sofa where she’d left it.

  “But the fumigators won’t be finished with your house until Monday.”

  “I’ll get a hotel.”

  “There’s no need to go. It’s late. You’re tired. Let’s not end our weekend like this,” he said. “Not when we had such a great time today.”

  All the old doubts she’d had about Clay came creeping back. She’d told herself it didn’t matter that he had an untraditional job, that the success of his recycling machine had proven him more than just an irresponsible dreamer. But when he’d spouted his plans for riding a motorcycle across the country, her bias against free spirits reared its ugly head. If he was going to make a career as an inventor, he should begin immediately on a new project, not dilute his momentum by taking a prolonged vacation on a motorcycle.

  Blowing out her breath, Tobie ran a hand through her hair. What an emotional tangle she’d wound herself in.

  He looked so forlorn, like a big puppy dog who’d lost its best friend. She suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Clay had a way of ruffling the feathers she’d spent a lifetime smoothing down.

  It was as if she were glass, and he could see through all her pretensions and defenses. And try as she might, she could not deny the fact that in his arms, she felt such rightness. As if she’d always belonged there.

  “Please,” he repeated. “Stay the night. Don’t go. I need help to put Molly to bed.”

  He knew her weakness.

  With a sigh, Tobie dropped her purse. “Fine,” she said helplessly. “You win. I’ll stay one more night.”

  15

  Tobie woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Rolling over, she stretched and smiled.

  It was nice, she realized, getting pampered. She’d not experienced that before. With Edward, she’d been the one doing the pampering.