Clay (Texas Rascals Book 11)

by Lori Wilde

  Salty tears blocked her throat. Her nose stuffed up from crying. She was such an idiot. Snatching a tissue from the box on the nightstand, she pressed it to her eyes. How could she have been so dense? All the preparation, the nice dinner, the candles, her dress and hair had come to nothing. Clay did not want her.

  How had she made such a mess of things? Sighing, Tobie sat up and peered at her reddened face in the mirror.

  Who was the woman staring back at her? A little more than a week ago, she’d been a confident, self-contained pediatrician, engaged to one of the most prominent physicians in the Trans-Pecos. Now she was an emotional wreck who’d dumped her fiancé for a down-and-out cowboy inventor who did not want her.

  All those years she’d spent carefully planning her well-ordered future had disintegrated into a tangled mess. She’d never figured on falling in love with Clay. From the very beginning, he’d represented everything she’d sought to avoid.

  Then after her mother had talked to her, and she’d discovered the fortune her father had left behind, Tobie had realized at last that money was not what truly mattered, that love and faith and loyalty were what she truly valued. She’d learned to accept Clay as he was, unconditionally. Unfortunately, she’d learned the lesson too late.

  The unexpected sound of her doorbell chiming had Tobie’s spirits soaring. Was it Clay? Had he come to apologize? Quick as a cat, she sprang from the bed and hustled to her front door, flinging it open without hesitation.

  Edward stood on her doorstep with a folder clutched in his hands. Disappointment surged through her. What was he doing here at this time of night?

  “Hello, Tobie. May I come in?”

  “It’s late, Edward.” She kneaded her brow.

  He consulted his watch. “It’s only nine o’clock.”

  “I have to get up at six-thirty in the morning.” Funny how that excuse hadn’t stopped her from planning an all-night romp with Clay.

  “I’ve got some important information I thought you should know about. It concerns your new boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said.

  “Then you don’t want to know what I discovered?” Edward arched one eyebrow and waited. He dangled the folder tantalizingly between his thumb and index finger.

  “Come in.” She moved aside to allow him entry. Had Edward unearthed the secret Clay had guarded? Anxiety thrummed through her veins. Did she really want to know what he was hiding?

  Edward stepped into the living area. Tobie perched on the edge of the sofa and motioned for him to sit beside her.

  “You know, Tobie,” he said, after settling onto the cushion and placing the folder on her coffee table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you broke our engagement.”

  Tobie cleared her throat. She did not want to hear this. From the moment she’d first clamped eyes on Clay, had felt those strange stirrings generated by his intense stare, she’d known she’d never loved Edward. “I thought you came to tell me something about Clay.”

  “I did, but I also wanted you to understand just how much I miss you.”

  To spurn and be spurned all in one night. Tobie laid a hand on Dr. Bennet’s shoulder. “It’s over between us, Edward. Truly.”

  “Don’t be so hasty, Tobie. Listen to what I have to tell you, then decide.”

  She nodded. She’d hear him out, but she knew there was no chance that she’d ever get back with Edward, no matter what he might reveal about Clay.

  Edward leaned forward and opened the manila folder, then angled her a meaningful look. “I was correct. I had seen your Mr. Barton before.”

  “Oh?”

  “I found this on the internet.” Edward plucked a picture from the folder and passed it to Tobie.

  Holding the picture up to the light, she looked at the couple captured in black and white ink where Edward had printed it off. The photograph depicted a younger Clay on the arm of the beautiful young Nancy Freeborn, a well-known social climber who in recent years had married a much older wealthy socialite. Tobie had met her at several of Edward’s fundraisers and disliked the woman and her artificial smile and affected English accent.

  “So?” Tobie shrugged.

  “Your down-and-out cowboy inventor is actually the son of Fort Worth cattle baron, Carlton Barton.” Edward seemed to take a perverse joy in breaking this news.

  Tobie studied the photograph again, absorbing Clay’s appearance. He wore a tailored suit, expensive enough to give Edward a run for his money, and a Rolex watch. Clay’s hair was neatly trimmed, his imported Italian shoes freshly polished. According to the article, the scruffy cowboy inventor that she’d fallen in love with was really a jet-setting billionaire trust-fund baby.

  Nausea washed over her, and it felt like a wild stallion had kicked her in the gut.

  “I told you,” Edward gloated. “Barton’s been playing you for a fool.”

  Clay had lied to her.

  But why?

  What was the point?

  Unless... her stomach lurched at the possibility. Had he merely been playing on her sympathies, trying to get her into his bed? But if that were true, why had he thrown her out of his house tonight when she’d been ready to give herself to him?

  She felt completely betrayed. Even tonight, Clay had continued the sham, pretending that losing the patent spelled his failure as a man, when all along he was heir to a vast fortune. She didn’t understand his convoluted game, but Clay was a liar. How could she ever have thought she could love a man like that?

  “Barton dropped out of the society scene four years ago,” Edward intoned. “He stopped taking money from his trust, ran off to Rascal, and holed up like a hermit to ‘prove’ himself as an inventor. He’s a kook, Tobie. He’s not worthy of your attention.”

  But why hadn’t he told her the truth? Why had he continued to hide his true identity from her when he’d had ample opportunity to tell her who he was?

  “What do you say?” Edward gloated. “The man lied to you. He used you, Tobie. Face it.”

  She barked out a harsh laugh. Suddenly, all the money in the world meant nothing. Without honor, integrity, and honesty, money had no meaning. The bottom line was she couldn’t trust Clay. And when it was all said and done, everything came down to trust.

  “Are you all right?” Edward asked.

  “Oh, yes.” An icy calm filled her veins. Despite the pain, she was grateful Edward had come here to tell her the truth about Clay. At last, she knew the secret he could not reveal. She knew it doomed their relationship. Their affair was over before it ever started.

  Tobie got to her feet. “Thanks for coming, Edward.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.” She walked to the door.

  Reluctantly, Edward stood. “Well, if you ever change your mind about us, you know where to reach me.”

  She forced a smile. “I think it’s best if we don’t keep in touch.”

  “Are you going to forgive Barton for lying to you?” Edward asked. “Please, Tobie, don’t be a fool. Obviously, the guy was only out for what he could get. You didn’t, er...give yourself to him, did you?”

  “Good night, Edward.” The cool night air wafted inside her house as she held the door open.

  “If that’s the way you want it.” He stuck his chin in the air and sashayed out the door, leaving Tobie alone with her broken heart.

  Clay sat in his old pickup outside Tobie’s townhouse trying to work up the courage to go to the door. After he’d asked her to leave, guilt had gnawed at him. It wasn’t her fault he’d failed. She’d been trying to comfort him, and he’d lashed out at her.

  Taking a deep breath, Clay squared his shoulders and unsnapped his seat belt. Just as he was about to get out of the car, Tobie’s door opened, and Dr. Edward Bennet came strolling down the sidewalk.

  His heart plummeted. Had she been crying on Edward’s shoulder? Jealousy careened inside him like a runaway vehicle.

  The minute the doctor climbed into his Merced
es and drove away, Clay bounded up the steps, mentally rehearsing his speech in his head. Reaching the door, he rapped loudly and tried to tamp down the anxiety knotting his muscles.

  When Tobie didn’t answer immediately, he tried again. “Tobie! Are you home? It’s me, Clay.”

  A minute passed. Then another. He knocked once more.

  She threw the door open to glare at him. She’d wrapped herself in a fluffy yellow bathrobe, her hair turbaned in a white towel. Her mouth was an angry slash. Even wet and mad she was sexy as hell. His eyes locked on the curve of her lower lip, and he had to fight to keep from kissing her.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I came to apologize for what happened back at my place. I was upset over the recycler, and I took it out on you.”

  Tobie folded her arms over her chest, but her expression didn’t change. In the dimmed lighting, her skin glowed as white as the full moon hanging in the sky above them.

  “Please,” he said, unnerved by her stony silence. “Can we talk?”

  At last, she gave an imperceptible nod, turned, and walked into the living room. She stopped, arms still folded, and continued to frown at him.

  “There’s something I’ve got to tell you,” Clay said. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

  She arched her eyebrows at him, still saying nothing.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, he paced the length of her living room. “I don’t know where to start.”

  She picked something up from the coffee table and handed it to him. “Does it have anything to do with this?”

  Clay looked down at the photograph of him and Nancy Freeborn taken five years ago. So, she already knew. That explained the silent treatment.

  “Let me explain,” he said.

  “Please. I’m all ears.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m not poor.”

  “Obviously.” Her expression was cold, emotionless.

  “But I live that way because I prefer the simple life.”

  Her blue-eyed gaze pierced straight through him. “Why did you lie to me?”

  Clay squirmed. How to get himself out of this mess? He thumped the picture of him and Nancy with his thumb. “Because I didn’t want a repeat performance of that.”

  She cocked her head and leveled him a frigid stare.

  “Yes?”

  The lump in Clay’s throat choked him. The vee of her bathrobe offered him an erotic peek at her soft flesh. He’d bet anything she was naked beneath the thick terry cloth material.

  His fingers ached to reach out and touch her. To feather his lips along her elegant neck. To taste her fragrant bouquet. Breathe in her floral scent.

  His thoughts tumbled back over the time they’d spent with Molly. An exciting, fun-filled time that rivaled any rollercoaster ride. The laughter they’d shared, the joy of his completion of the recycler, the pure fun of caring for Molly. And the wondrous sensation of kissing Tobie senseless. He couldn’t live without her now. He had to convince her to forgive him.

  “Nancy and I were engaged,” he said. “Briefly.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It didn’t take me long to figure out what she was after. My money, my social standing. All the things my parents considered important, but I didn’t. I broke off the engagement when she laughed at my dreams of becoming an inventor, and I caught her in bed with another man. And Nancy wasn’t the only woman attracted to me for what I could give her.”

  Tobie continued to look at him as if he’d crawled from beneath a rock.

  He took a deep breath. “I lived like a recluse and worked on my recycler so that the Nancys of the world wouldn’t plague me. I adopted a modest lifestyle. And it worked beautifully. For four years, I threw myself into the project: mind, body, and soul.”

  “That’s still no excuse for not telling me the truth. I told you everything about myself. You knew of my mistake with Edward, of my problems with my father. But you never reciprocated. You kept a vital part of yourself hidden from me. I’d like to know why.”

  “Hey,” he said. “From what I first saw of you in the beginning, you were exactly like Nancy Freeborn. How was I to know your focus on money was just a backlash from your impoverished childhood? For all I knew you were another gold digger.”

  “I never came after you. You were the one who showed up in my office. You asked me to stay at your place and help you with Molly. The whole thing was your idea straight from the start.”

  He ducked his head and toed the carpet. “Well, by the time I realized you weren’t like Nancy and I wanted to get to know you better, I needed leverage. You were still engaged to Edward.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tobie sank her hands on her hips, and her bathrobe gaped a little more.

  God, how he wanted her! She was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

  “It wasn’t very honorable. I freely admit that.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “I wanted you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, Tobie, you did strange and glorious things to me. And when you came to me tonight, so sweet and seductive, offering yourself to me, it was all I could do to keep from taking you.”

  That got a reaction out of her. A telltale blush stained her cheeks. “I still don’t understand why you felt it necessary to lie.”

  “Would you have agreed to spend the night in my cabin if you’d known I could afford to hire a nanny to take care of Molly?”

  “No.”

  “See?”

  “But you could have told me later,” she said.

  “I didn’t want you to get mad at me and leave. In fact, I had intended on telling you the truth after I patented the recycler. I wanted to make my mark in the world. I wanted you to be proud of me for who I was, not for who my parents are or how big my trust fund is.”

  There. He’d confessed the truth at last. Breathing a sigh of relief, he caught her eye.

  “So, you perpetrated a hoax to mislead me.”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  “All along your intentions were to seduce me.”

  “It started out that way, yes, but when I got to know you, things changed.” He took a step toward her, but she quickly backed away.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’d better leave.” She opened the front door. The night breeze carried in the smell of flowers.

  He nodded reluctantly. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “I think it best if you don’t.”

  “I can’t accept that, Tobie. You’re upset. Sleep on it. Consider giving us a chance.”

  “I’m sorry, Clay. I simply can’t get involved with a man I can’t trust.”

  He fisted his hands. “Tobie, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove you can trust me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too late for that.”

  “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. But hurt her he had. “If I could change the past, I’d do things so differently.”

  Shifting her weight, Tobie stared at the floor.

  What was she thinking? Why wouldn’t she meet his eyes? Then a terrible thought occurred to him. What if she had renewed her relationship with Edward?

  Jealousy unlike anything he’d ever known zapped through Clay. Cramming his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he fought to control his emotions. Too bad relationships weren’t like machinery. If they were, he could twist a few wires, fuse metal, reconnect the circuit. But hell, he had no idea how to mend a broken heart.

  18

  Tobie’s hand rested on the doorknob. Outwardly, she wore her calm facade, but inwardly, she was shaking. He’d manipulated her with his lies, yes, but he had not taken advantage of her. She had done nothing she hadn’t wanted to do, had, in fact, longed for more from him.

  Basically, she knew he was a good man, but did she dare risk loving him? One more tender word from him and she’d collapse into his
arms. She yearned for Clay with such a passion it terrified her. But could she depend on him? All her old fears came back in a flood of doubt.

  “I’m asking you to forgive me.” He stood beside her, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward.

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  “Tobie,” he said, “please.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him to stay, to profess her love for him, but years of conditioning cemented the words in her throat.

  Clay stood waiting. His gaze filled with longing. “Well?”

  “Uh... I... er.”

  “That says it all, doesn’t it, Tobie? You still want to have your cake and eat it, too.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Then tell me you’ll forgive me.”

  Oh, how she longed to forgive him, but she was so scared. What if he hurt her beyond repair? She’d never loved anyone like this before, and she found the pain so horribly fierce.

  “Well then, that’s that.” Pain flared in his eyes before he turned and stalked out the door.

  Tobie stood there a moment, frozen. Come on, you ninny, don’t you dare let him get away, the voice in the back of her mind commanded.

  “Clay,” she shouted, springing into action. She raced down the steps just as he got into his pickup and started the engine. “Wait!”

  But she was too late. By the time she reached the parking lot, his tires were squealing away into the night. Heartbroken, she collapsed to her knees on the asphalt.

  “Clay, I forgive you,” she sobbed, “please, please forgive me.”

  Crickets chirped. Honeysuckle rode the air. The full moon spilled its cold light on her weeping figure. Clay was gone, and she had been the one to chase him away.

  Six months passed.

  After that awful night in Tobie’s townhouse, Clay had realized he could not go back to her until he had something tangible to offer—a job, a successful invention, a future to build on. He loved her too much to hurt her any further. So, working feverishly, Tobie never out of his thoughts for long, he invented baby latches.