by Pamela Tyner
Stop being ridiculous. She’s only gone to the bathroom.
He stepped back into the hallway and quickly traveled the few steps necessary to reach the bathroom. The door stood wide open, the light was off, and the room was completely unoccupied.
With urgency, he picked up his pace but somehow managed to maintain enough level-headedness to ensure he kept his movements quiet. When he reached the living room, he scanned the area, finding nothing out of place.
Another floorboard creaked behind him, and he stiffened. Turning, he caught sight of a flash of light in the kitchen. He clenched his hands into fists, braced himself, and moved toward the light.
Chapter 3
Clint exhaled a sigh of relief at the sight of Tricia standing in front of the open door of the refrigerator. The tension eased from his body, and his fists uncurled.
She bent over to peer at the items on the bottom shelf, the motion causing her t-shirt to creep up her body. When she reached inside the refrigerator to sift through the items, the shirt inched up even further.
His eyes widened in surprise at the view before him. It had been almost a decade since he’d had a glimpse of her naked butt, but Lord, she still had a rear that could make a man’s mouth water.
Unbidden, a picture flashed in his mind of a time when she had been in a very similar position, him standing behind her, his fingers gripping her hips firmly.
Before he had time to reminisce any further, she straightened and the t-shirt returned to its proper position, covering the part of her anatomy he’d been ogling.
With both hands curled around a bowl, she nudged the refrigerator door shut with her hip. As it closed, the room plunged into darkness, and within seconds she ran right smack dab into him. She gasped and instantly retreated. Then her fingertips tentatively touched his bare chest. She yanked her hand back like she had been burned.
“It’s just me.” Clint stepped away and flipped on the overhead light.
He should have made her aware of his presence. He’d probably scared her half to death. But he hadn’t warned her because he’d been distracted. Totally distracted. So instead of making his presence known, he’d stood there leering at her like a damned voyeur. But damn it, he was only human, and what man wouldn’t have appreciated such a sight?
He turned to face Tricia, and one glance at her face extinguished those lustful cravings blazing inside him. She no longer wore makeup, and prominent bruises darkened her cheek. Ugly bruises that stood out in stark contrast against her fair skin. He felt like someone had sucker punched him in the gut.
Conflicting emotions and thoughts filled him. Anger and outright disgust toward Matt mixed with compassion and empathy for Tricia. He had the most incredible urge to walk out the door, hunt Matt down, and beat the hell out of him. At the same time, he didn’t want to leave the room. He wanted to take Tricia in his arms, hold her, comfort her, and kiss her face until the bruises disappeared.
Instinctively, he stepped toward her, began to reach for her. Thankfully, sanity reclaimed control and halted his hand before he’d actually completed the task. He jerked his hand back and clenched it into a fist at his side. If he made any attempt to touch her, she just might leave some bruises on his face.
Tricia took a step back, one of her hands letting go of the bowl to reach up. Stopping mid-way to her face, she dropped her hand and grasped the side of the bowl again. With that action, Clint realized she knew how bad it looked. She wanted to cover it up, to hide it.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he said, stating the obvious.
“I’m hungry.”
“In the future, eat at dinner and avoid these late-night refrigerator raids.”
Without responding, Tricia walked past him and placed the bowl in the microwave.
Clint started to leave the room but had only gotten a few steps before he stopped and turned toward her. He had to ask.
“Tricia, where the hell are your panties?”
She whirled around to face him. “Excuse me?”
“Why aren’t you wearing panties?” he demanded.
She blushed at the question. Blowing out a soft breath, she broke eye contact with him and ran a hand through her hair. He knew the gesture well. It was what she did when she was flustered.
When she looked back, she stared him straight in the eye. “I had to wash them out,” she said calmly. “If you remember, I don’t have any clothes here.”
“Well, you can’t run around like that.”
It simply wasn’t healthy for her, and it definitely wasn’t healthy for him.
If he could go to Neil’s and retrieve her clothing, he would. But he couldn’t take Tricia to Lexington for fear someone might spot her, and he refused to leave her alone for the five hours it would take him to make the trip.
You should have taken the time to get her stuff before you left. But he hadn’t wanted to remain in Lexington one second longer than absolutely necessary. He’d depended on Neil bringing out her things and hadn’t even stopped to consider the fact that Neil might not be able to do that immediately.
“I’ll go into town tomorrow and buy whatever you need to get you by until the weekend,” Clint said. “Just make me a list.”
“I don’t have money to throw away on something I can do without. Once Jenny and Neil bring my clothes, I’ll have everything I need. I can survive for a few days.”
“I’m not sure I can,” he muttered under his breath. He could just imagine the days ahead. Constantly wondering whether or not she was wearing panties—it would be nothing short of torture.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about the money. I’ll buy them for you.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Tricia, I’m buying you the damn panties,” he snapped.
She lifted a brow then shook her head and chuckled softly. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over panties.” She waved a hand in the air. “Fine. It’s your money. If you want to throw it away, that’s up to you.”
“Make me a list, and I guess I need sizes too.”
“How do I know you’re not going to come back with granny panties?”
“I promise I’ll buy you something lacy and sexy.” Then spend his time imagining what she looked like in them. It appeared that whatever he did, he’d be tortured.
“Why don’t you just take me with you?”
The microwave dinged. Tricia opened the door, and the smell of the spicy spaghetti sauce floated across the room.
Clint shook his head. “I don’t want anyone knowing you’re here. It’s safer that way.”
After depositing the bowl on the table, Tricia turned to face him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him silently, as if considering her next words.
“And I suppose the people here are used to you going into the store and buying women’s panties?”
Clint opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut. How was he supposed to respond to that? She had a point. Within an hour of the purchase, the news would be all over town that Clint Owens was a cross-dresser.
The corner of her mouth tilted up, and amusement twinkled in her eyes. “On second thought, maybe you should be the one to buy them.”
The expression on her face was the closest to happiness he’d seen her look all day. His heart swelled with pleasure, then immediately deflated when his gaze landed on the bruises.
He cleared his throat. “I can’t take you to town with me looking like—” He gestured vaguely toward her face. “—that.”
Her lips straightened, and the amusement disappeared from her eyes. After a moment, she lifted a shoulder. “That’s not a problem. I have makeup in my purse.”
“Fine. Be ready to leave by eight-thirty.”
“Are you sure? Because if you want to buy them…” She held her hands up in surrender as the words trailed off.
“I’m sure,” he snapped. He took a deep breath and gave a careless shrug. “Besides, it’s pr
obably best if we stick together. If Matt does show up, it’ll be better if you’re in town with me instead of being here by yourself.”
* * * *
The next morning, as they rode into town, Tricia felt like she had won a small victory. The fact that Clint had agreed to take her with him was a tiny thing, an insignificant thing, and it shouldn’t have held such importance to her. But it did.
Clint turned off the dusty dirt road onto a two-lane paved highway. Tricia stared out the window at the passing trees as she considered the situation and tried to determine why she was so elated about this accomplishment.
It took a good ten miles for her to figure it out, and the conclusion she reached was simple. For years there had been a man in her life who had made decisions for her—all the decisions—and once he’d made up his mind, he’d refused to budge. What she wanted had never been a consideration. This time, though, she’d actually convinced a man to change his mind.
From the corner of her eye, she snuck a glance at Clint and wondered once again why he was being so helpful. Although the why was irrelevant. When she needed help, he’d provided it—had gone out of his way to do it. Had it been anyone else, she’d be gushing with gratitude. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was the man who had stomped on her heart and pride.
Of course, that had occurred years ago. One would think she’d be able to put it behind her after all this time. She wished she could. But some hurts were too deep to be forgotten or forgiven.
If that weren’t enough to have her swallowing her words of appreciation, the way Clint had persuaded her to accept his help did. Strange really, because during the time they’d spent together he’d never behaved in such a manner. He’d never been demanding or controlling. Then again, in the beginning of her relationship with Matt, he hadn’t acted that way either. But that had certainly changed as time progressed.
Heaving out a sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest. On top of everything else, she was still irked with Clint for having the nerve to remind her of their night of bondage fun. Naturally, once he had nudged the memory from her mind, it lingered, refusing to leave, no matter how forcefully she tried to push it away. When she’d finally drifted off to sleep, she’d relived the event in her dreams.
His hands stroking her skin, followed by his lips and tongue. He’d tasted every inch of her, right down to her toes, which had shocked her somewhat, but when he’d declared her utterly delicious, the shock gave way to delight. He’d taken his time exploring her body, hours it seemed, and by the end of the night she’d learned where every single one of her erogenous zones were. He’d teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the brink of orgasm over and over again, and then backing off, until finally she had pleaded for release.
Heat rose to her face as she remembered the shameless way she’d begged him to take her.
This morning she’d woken up aroused and aching and cursing herself for it.
As enjoyable as it had been, she had no intention of ever repeating that particular sexual adventure. It was a game that required absolute trust in one’s partner. Never again would she be able to trust anyone that completely.
Massaging her forehead, she focused on clearing her head. She had enough to deal with right now without wasting any of her time or energy on thoughts of Clint…or sex. She directed her attention instead to her future plans. The first thing she needed to do was find a job. She began to make a mental list of her employable skills. Sadly, they weren’t very impressive.
Over an hour after they had left the ranch, Clint pulled into the parking lot of a department store. “Let’s make this quick.”
When they reached the glass door at the store’s entrance, he held it open and waited for her to precede him into the building.
“Come on,” he said as he brushed past her and led the way to the lingerie department. He gestured toward the racks of undergarments. “Get whatever you need.”
Tricia zeroed in on a rack that looked promising and begin to search through the hangers. Clint stood off to the side, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Not satisfied with what she’d found on the first rack, Tricia moved on to another one.
Clint sighed loudly. “For God’s sake, Tricia, pick something and let’s go.”
She spared a quick glance in his direction and then continued with her search. “There’s a lot to choose from.”
“It’s just panties. How hard can it be?”
“Well, there’s briefs, low rise, bikini, French cut, thongs, and that’s just the style. Then you have to pick a color.” She looked over at Clint to find him staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Because she rather enjoyed the look of confusion on his face, she continued, “Also, you have to decide on a fabric.”
She pulled a hanger from the rack and considered the item, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.
“Personally, I like silk the best.” She returned her gaze to Clint. “There’s just something about the feeling of silk against your skin.”
For a brief second his eyes darkened. Tricia had seen that look of passion on his face often enough to recognize it. But it disappeared so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it.
He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for divine guidance. “You have exactly three minutes to pick something.”
His tone was firm, and Tricia had no reason to doubt his words were sincere, so she turned back to the rack and began searching in earnest.
“Hi, Clint. I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
Tricia looked up at the sound of the female voice. The owner of the voice was a redhead. Clint did like redheads, preferred them over brunettes actually, a fact she had learned the hard way.
This particular redhead had a tiny waist, an ample bosom, and looked as if she had barely graduated high school. Miss Homecoming Queen aimed a dazzling smile in Clint’s direction. Of course, Tricia couldn’t be sure if her smile dazzled all the time or if that particular smile was reserved exclusively for the men.
“Hi, Candy,” Clint replied.
Tricia rolled her eyes at the name. Candy indeed.
Gazing at Clint with adoring eyes, the woman laid her hand on his bicep. “We’ve missed seeing you.”
Tricia shook her head. No doubt Candy was enjoying the feel of Clint’s muscles. She wondered if he realized the woman was feeling him up.
Well, of course he did. Candy was probably his current lover, now the person being aroused by his touch and reduced to begging.
Something stirred inside Tricia, and she struggled to identify it. Resentment? Jealousy? Surely not. She didn’t want Clint, didn’t want any man for that matter.
But she’d sure enjoy seeing him squirm. Ignoring the voice in her head that insisted she was being immature, Tricia called out, “Clint.”
Both Clint and Candy turned to look in her direction.
“What do you think about these?”
The panties that hung from the hanger she held were little more than a thin scrap of pink silk. At the sides, they were held together by satin ribbons tied into a bow.
Tricia grabbed one of the ribbons and tugged gently. She looked back at Clint with a secretive little smile, and in her best seductive voice said, “Easy access.”
Candy’s smile vanished completely.
Clint wasn’t smiling either. Then again, in the past day she hadn’t seen him smile at all. It was a shame actually, because he had such an adorable grin. Tricia watched his chest expand as he drew in a deep breath of air. Then his lips curved upward.
“Those are indeed…something special.” His gaze moved slowly down her body and back up. “I’m sure they’ll look sensational on you.”
Tricia’s breath backed up in her lungs. She had started this banter because she’d wanted to watch Clint squirm. Instead, she was the one squirming. It was almost as if it were his hands that caressed her body rather than his gaze. That leisure
ly examination of his had left her tingling from head to toe. And that irritated her.
“Good,” she replied breezily. “I’ll get a couple more in some different colors, and we’ll be ready to go.”
The redhead had removed her hand from Clint’s arm and dropped it to her side. She scowled at Tricia then turned her gaze back to Clint. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Tricia, Candy. Candy, Tricia.”
Tricia gave the woman what she hoped came across as a sincere, confident smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said in her most friendly voice.
“Are you from around here?”
Tricia shook her head. “No.”
“How did the two of you meet?”
Candy’s tone wasn’t exactly brimming with southern hospitality. It was clear that she viewed Tricia with utter contempt and distrust. Normally Tricia wouldn’t have been particularly thrilled to be regarded in such a way. But in this instance, it didn’t bother her.
“Oh, Clint and me go way back.” Tricia plucked two more hangers from the rack. She walked over to Clint and took his arm. “I’m ready.”
“Good. See you later, Candy.”
As they walked toward the register, Tricia felt the woman’s eyes boring a hole in her back. As Clint paid for the items, Candy stormed past them.
Tricia raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Bye, Candy.”
Candy lifted her chin high and continued her brisk pace without acknowledging Tricia at all.
Tricia took the bag from the cashier and followed Clint out of the store.
“Poor Candy.” Her voice dripped sweetness, like maple syrup on pancakes. “She looked a tad upset. You might have to do some fast talking to work your way back into her good graces.”
Clint merely grunted in response as he climbed inside the truck. He started the engine then draped his arm over the steering wheel and looked at Tricia. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes, indeed. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“Glad to hear it. I hope you realize by noon the entire town will know all about this little incident.”