Baby, Drive South

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Baby, Drive South Page 25

by Stephanie Bond


  His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure she could hear it. “Yes,” he said finally. “I do.”

  32

  Nikki squinted, not sure what Porter meant. He needed her? She opened her mouth to ask for clarification, but suddenly he was kissing her.

  And it felt so good.

  Her body sprang to life as she opened her mouth to his. One crutch clattered to the floor as he wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck.

  “I want to make love to you,” he said, backing her into the room.

  “Men aren’t allowed in the boardinghouse overnight,” she murmured.

  He kicked the door closed. “It’s okay—I own the place.”

  She fell on her bed with him, waiting for a sense of apprehension or guilt to envelop her. When it didn’t, she threw all her inhibitions to the wind. She had longed for him to come to her. He must have felt her body pulling on his.

  As frenzied and frantic as their lovemaking had been in Atlanta, this time it was slow and sweet, with thorough kisses and clasped hands. Through the screened window, cicadas serenaded them and the moon highlighted their naked bodies as they explored each other leisurely. When he finally rose above her to join their bodies, he was so heartbreakingly tender, Nikki felt herself falling into a depth of feeling she’d never experienced before.

  She hung there, floating in a liquid mass of sensual impulses until their pendulous climax sent her crashing over an apex, leaving her weak and vulnerable. His heartbeat against hers drew her back to earth. He pulled her onto his chest and ran his fingers over the small of her back, humming his satisfaction.

  Even as his breathing steadied and slowed, Nikki resisted sleep. She was falling in love with this man and she wanted to enjoy every delicious second of it. She memorized every sensation of his body against hers—the temperatures, textures and tastes…the facial expressions, musky scents and the guttural noises of fulfillment. She didn’t want to go to sleep because she felt as if she’d only just been awakened to the joys of life…

  When she awoke, predawn light filtered through the window and Porter was snoring softly in her ear. She wanted more than anything to stay cocooned in his arms, but she knew she needed to check on her patients.

  Nikki smiled. Her patients…her town.

  She slid from the bed as quietly as she could to dress and brush her hair. She thought Porter was still sleeping, but as she crept by the bed, his hand snaked out to grab hers.

  He smiled up at her. “Sneaking out?”

  “Going to the clinic,” she whispered, wondering if her newly formed feelings for him showed all over her face. “I’ll be back soon.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Nikki…please say you’ll stay.”

  Her heart expanded. “I’ll stay,” she said happily.

  He grinned. “I’ll have that contract ready for you to sign when you get back. Can’t have you changing your mind.”

  She kissed him on the mouth, then slipped from her room. Nikki stared down at the lone crutch lying in front of her door. So much for being discreet. She wondered how quickly word had passed that Porter Armstrong had spent the night in her room.

  Pretty quickly, she deduced from the sly smiles she got as she walked into the kitchen to retrieve a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning,” Traci sang.

  “Good morning,” Nikki murmured, her face warm.

  “Well, for some of us,” Rachel said, and everyone burst out laughing.

  Nikki was unable to hold back a smile, and felt a rush of affection for these women who had accepted her into their fold.

  “Nothing makes your skin look as good as afterglow,” Traci said. “We want details.”

  The women chorused agreement.

  “I have to go check on my patients,” Nikki said. Groans echoed behind her as she left the room. She smiled into her coffee and gave into the little spring in her step.

  She exited the boardinghouse, struck anew by the quiet beauty of this wild place. It was a dew-laden morning, already warm and steamy. The sky was streaked with pink and yellow ribbons. A bluebird flew by, and two dragonflies. A squirrel scampered ahead of her as she walked down the paved road the short distance to the clinic. She noticed the newly erected sign that had escaped her the previous evening. Sweetness Family Medical Center.

  She liked the ring of it—family. It seemed to capture all that was to come in this town. And she wanted to be here for it.

  To be with Porter.

  She inhaled deeply, imbued with happiness. She loved him. She hadn’t known it could be like this, to feel as if someone was just so…necessary. She’d cared for Darren deeply, but she now realized the difference in loving someone and being in love. One was a choice and the other was…involuntary. As she struggled to define the giddiness she felt, her gaze landed on a dust-covered compact car parked near the entrance of the clinic. A young man sat slumped in the driver’s seat, asleep. His dark-rimmed glasses were askew.

  Nikki walked over and knocked on the window. The man jumped, then he righted his glasses and rolled down the window.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  The man’s short dark hair stood up at all angles. His clothes were travel worn. “I hope so. I’m looking for Dr. Salinger.”

  She hadn’t been expecting the British accent. “I’m Dr. Nikki Salinger.”

  His shoulders fell. “Thank goodness. I’m Jay Cross. Dr. Hannah sent me.”

  Nikki smiled widely. “Welcome, Dr. Cross. I see you found our clinic. When did you get here?”

  “A couple of hours ago,” he said, fighting a yawn as he climbed out of the car.

  To her surprise, he wasn’t much taller than she was, and from the looks of his prim suit, maybe he hadn’t been forewarned about the rugged conditions. Oh, well, he’d learn soon enough. “Come on in and we’ll find you some coffee.”

  “Tea would be brilliant,” he said. “And I’m looking forward to a hot shower.”

  She sipped her coffee, electing not to tell him how rare both of those things would be. “I have a couple of patients I need to check on if you’d like to join me.”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “I’m eager to learn about mountain medicine.”

  “Oh, then you’re going to love Doc Riley.”

  “Is he another physician in your practice?”

  “Not really,” she said, wondering how Riley Bates and the other men would react to this quirky-looking man with his precise speech.

  She thanked the volunteers who had kept an eye on the men all night. To her relief, both patients were doing well and were in good spirits. She introduced Doc Riley to Dr. Cross and told him of the young man’s interest in learning about natural remedies.

  Riley Bates eyed her warily. “I thought you didn’t cotton to my homemade concoctions, doc.”

  Nikki considered the aged man in front of her, recognized the fear in his eyes that he was no longer useful. “I think there’s room for both of us on this mountain, Mr. Bates. In fact, I was wondering if you have more of that homemade licorice candy for my allergies.”

  He grinned. “Does that mean you’re sticking around, doc?”

  She smiled. “Yes, I’ve decided to stay in Sweetness.”

  Riley Bates gave a little laugh. “Well, I gotta hand it to Porter. He told Marcus he’d get you to stay, and he did.”

  She frowned, suddenly uneasy. “What do you mean?”

  “Marcus was afraid if you left, all the women would go, too. So he told Porter to keep you here, no matter what it took.” Riley laughed. “Crippled your van on purpose, I heard.”

  Her mouth went dry. She could’ve driven out of here long ago?

  The old man laughed again, clearly amused. “They wanted you bad. Marcus sweetened the pot, told Porter if you stayed, he could have the family homestead.”

  The homestead…the place Porter loved most on this mountain, Of course he would do anything to have it, even seduce the doctor into staying. Nikki thought she might be sick.
/>
  “So what did that scalawag do to get you to stay? Is he paying you a bundle?”

  Nikki swallowed, then found her voice. “No…nothing like that.”

  Dr. Cross squinted at her. “Are you okay, Dr. Salinger?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I just need to get some air.”

  “I’ll hold down the fort if you trust me,” the young man offered cheerfully.

  “Actually,” she said, taking off her lab coat, “the clinic is all yours.”

  Dr. Cross blinked. “Pardon me?”

  She handed him her coat. “Good luck.” Her eyes filled with hot tears. She blindly made her way to the exit, replaying the most recent encounter with Porter. I need you…sneaking out?…please tell me you’ll stay… I’ll have that contract ready for you to sign when you get back…can’t have you changing your mind. There was no mention of love or commitment. She was an idiot.

  Again.

  She pushed open the door and strode outside, gulping, hoping the flower-scented breeze would cleanse her mind. Instead, the air was stifling and cloying to her lungs. She gasped and kept moving, walking quickly back to the boardinghouse, her mind in turmoil. How could she have been so stupid as to think that Porter Armstrong, a man who could have any woman he wanted, would fall in love with her?

  Her skin burned with humiliation. He’d probably gotten a good laugh over how quickly she’d given in to him. She’d been an easy mark, the homely, inexperienced woman who’d just been dumped by her fiancé.

  She closed her eyes briefly. Darren. How could she face him? Then she swallowed hard. She’d deal with him later. For the time being, at least he could get her out of here.

  And right now, she couldn’t wait to get out of Sweetness, either.

  33

  Porter stretched long and tall in Nikki’s bed, feeling utterly sated. So this was what it felt like to be in love—tingling head to toe, and already looking forward to the next time he’d see her, caught between wanting to show her off to the world and wanting to keep her all to himself. His mind rolled forward. He couldn’t stay here in the boardinghouse with her, and she couldn’t stay with him. He’d have to make the time to start building a house on the family homestead.

  Only a few weeks ago, he couldn’t have imagined thinking about these things, but now he wanted to—how was that possible? Porter gave a self-deprecating laugh. His brothers would never let him live this down.

  Suddenly he felt a pang for Kendall. So this was how he’d felt about Amy. No wonder he’d been impossible to live with after she’d left. How did a person handle going from such an amazing high to the low of losing that person? He didn’t want to know.

  He rolled over and inhaled the scent of Nikki from her pillow. He couldn’t get enough of her. But he intended to spend the rest of his life trying.

  Suddenly the door burst open. He looked up to see Nikki standing there. He smiled…until he realized she didn’t look happy.

  “You should leave, Porter.”

  Alarmed, he pushed up on his elbows. “Did I do something wrong?”

  She walked over to the closet, pulled out a suitcase, and carried it to the bed. “No. Apparently, you did everything right.”

  Porter shifted to avoid the falling suitcase. “I’m confused.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. She began yanking things from the closet and tossing them into the suitcase. “I know everything. I know you sabotaged my van so I couldn’t leave. And I know that Marcus promised you the family land if you could get me to stay. Congratulations, you almost pulled it off.”

  Panic licked at him. “Wait a minute—”

  “Are you denying it?” she asked, her voice thick. “Are you denying that you did something to my van?”

  He squirmed. “No.”

  “And are you denying that Marcus promised you the family land if you convinced me to stay?”

  Porter was starting to see how bad things looked from her point of view. “That’s not why— I mean, my wanting you to stay had nothing to do with…the other thing.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Right.”

  “Can we talk about this?”

  “No.” She grabbed the remaining clothes from the closet in one armful, then stuffed them into her suitcase.

  He pushed up and reached for the only crutch he had, scrambling to his feet. Damn, where were his clothes? He pulled a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his waist while he hobbled forward on one crutch. “Nikki, please listen to me. This isn’t what you think.”

  She stopped. “Really? Then what is this?”

  Porter felt paralyzed. He’d never said “I love you” to a woman. He’d never been in love before, didn’t know how things were supposed to work. Suddenly, he felt the weight of Nikki’s expectations descend on his shoulders. Her decision to stay or leave Sweetness would depend on his feelings for her. And in that moment, he wasn’t sure he could live up to that responsibility.

  After a long, painful pause, Nikki nodded. “Just what I thought.”

  “I’m sorry, Nikki.”

  “It’s my fault,” she said, zipping her suitcase with jerky movements. “My friend warned me this would happen.”

  He just wanted to keep her talking while he looked for his clothes. “What friend?”

  “My friend Amy Bradshaw, back in Broadway. She’s from a small town. She warned me what the men were like, and I didn’t listen.”

  Stunned, Porter’s mind raced down a tangent. Amy Bradshaw? Could it be the same person he was thinking of? When Nikki picked up her suitcase and walked out, his attention snapped back to the moment. He followed her, unable to keep up with only one crutch and still clutching the sheet around his waist. A small crowd had gathered in the hallway to gape. He didn’t care.

  “Nikki, please listen to me,” he called after her. “You can’t leave.”

  “Watch me,” she said over her shoulder.

  34

  By the time Porter got dressed and made it downstairs, Nikki was climbing into Darren Rocha’s car. He stood in front of the boardinghouse, leaning on his crutches, feeling like his heart was being torn out. Nikki was right that he’d tried to manipulate her…at least in the beginning. He just hadn’t planned to lose his heart in the process. She gave him one last glance, then swung into the passenger seat and closed the door. The car pulled away, taking Nikki with it.

  Away from Sweetness.

  Porter swallowed hard. His heart felt like an anvil in his chest. Suddenly he felt the familiar sting-and-ring of his ear. “Ow.” He looked up to see Kendall standing there. “What was that for?”

  Kendall nodded at the disappearing car. “You just going to let her go?”

  “Hey, brother, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Marcus walked up, scratching his head. “There’s a limey doctor at the clinic. What does Kendall have to explain?”

  Porter gave Kendall a pointed look. “How is it that the newspaper ad ran in the same town in Michigan where Amy Bradshaw now lives?”

  Marcus frowned. “What?”

  The look on Kendall’s face confirmed that it hadn’t been a coincidence. And suddenly Porter realized why Kendall had been in such a funk since the women had arrived—because Amy wasn’t among them. He’d hoped to lure her back. After all this time, he was still pining for his first love. Porter started to ask Kendall that if he’d known where she was, why hadn’t he just gone to be with her after he was discharged from the Air Force. Then it hit him. Kendall had put his commitment to rebuild Sweetness above his own happiness. His life was here now. If he and Amy had a future, she’d have to come back.

  “Like I said,” Kendall murmured, nodding in the direction of the dark car rolling down the long paved road they’d built with their own hands, “are you just going to let her go?” Like he’d let Amy go.

  But Porter shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

  Kendall looked unconvinced. “Isn’t it?”

  Frustration and self-loathing boiled
in Porter’s chest. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the car that grew smaller and smaller. Yet he felt powerless to stop her. He needed to be alone with this unbearable ache.

  The water tower.

  He glanced down at his cast, then decided he could make the climb. The pain might actually feel good. He could watch Nikki go for miles. Without a word to his brothers, he lumbered toward a four-wheeler. Kendall smiled, as if he thought Porter was going to take off after the car, then frowned when Porter went in the opposite direction.

  Porter tore up the winding, hilly path, pushing his speed and the vehicle’s endurance to make it to the base of the water tower within a few minutes. The climb up the ladder was a bit more challenging, but he got the hang of pulling himself up while putting as little weight as possible on his bad leg. He stopped once and looked down, conscious of how much damage he might do if he fell again. When he reached the platform, he made his way gingerly to the front, handicapped without his crutches.

  Because of the winding path out of Sweetness before leveling into a straight shot to a state road, the black car was still easily visible from the water tower on this clear, hot morning. He could even make out the two seated figures. He wondered what kind of conversation they were having, if they had already reconciled.

  Porter banged his fist on the handrail, angry with himself for not taking off after her and telling her how much he loved her. If that oaf of a cheating ex could tell Nikki he loved her and it wasn’t even true, then why couldn’t he work up the nerve to tell her about these very real feelings thrashing around in his chest?

  With a surge of determination, Porter pulled out his cell phone to call her, then remembered her phone didn’t get service here. Exasperated, he returned his phone to his belt. At a loss, he waved his arms. Cars approaching and leaving Sweetness could see the water tower for at least ten miles. But could she see him… Was she even looking?

  His mind flitted to the tornado sirens mounted on the tower—they would certainly get her attention. He even opened the metal cabinet, although deep down he knew he’d never raise a false alarm.

  But wedged inside the cabinet next to the bullhorn sirens was an old can of red spray paint. Porter smiled. Why not?

 

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