Around the lump of disappointment lodged in his throat, Blaine managed to ask, “When’s she getting in?”
The freckles across the bridge of Charlie’s nose grew fainter as his skin flushed. “An hour or so. She called when she left Austin. You’re gonna love her. She’s smart, a physics professor. Astrophysics. She can whup both our asses at pool. And she’s a natural with a gun. You wouldn’t expect it. She’s a tiny thing.”
Charlie’s description brought back memories of another Meredith. Small, smart. He didn’t know if that Meredith played pool or not. She hadn’t with him and Dylan. God, that last night with the two of them had been a fucked-up mess. He wondered if—Nah, it couldn’t be her. Too much of a coincidence. “Sounds serious,” Blaine said.
Charlie’s smile faded, and his voice became tender. “It might be.”
Fuck. Blaine’s heart began crumbling, chips breaking off in a cloud of dust. He had to get rid of Charlie for a few minutes so he could glue it back together. “Put your gear away then meet me in the den. I’ll bring the beer.”
Charlie slapped him on the back. “Sounds like a plan.”
Blaine followed him out of the office, but instead of heading directly across the rustic den to the door leading to the bedrooms, Blaine headed to the kitchen at the back of the house. He walked straight to the farmhouse sink and leaned his hands on it, bowing his head.
It was for the best. Hell, what did he expect—that the man would remain single the rest of his life? Not gonna happen. Charlie was too damned sexy for that. Not that he’d ever had any intention of declaring his feelings for his friend. Charlie didn’t swing that way. He didn’t have a problem with Blaine’s sexual preferences, what he knew of them. As far as Charlie knew, Blaine was straight-up gay. He’d tried bi for a couple of years after college. But people on opposite ends of the sexuality spectrum didn’t understand how someone could be attracted to both sexes. Talk about discrimination. He’d taken shit from both sides.
He shoved off the sink and dragged his pathetic ass to the oversized, stainless steel, built-in refrigerator. It was fairly empty this time of year. No guests to feed. Just him. And Charlie, now that he was home. That would change when the summer season started on Memorial Day weekend. No hunting until dove season started in September. Just families doing some fishing and hiking.
After grabbing a couple of beers, he settled in a leather club chair in the den and set Charlie’s bottle on a heavy oak end table. He twisted off the cap on his own beer and took a long draw.
Blaine hadn’t thought of Meredith in years, if he didn’t count every time he saw a tiny, curly-headed blonde. Fortunately, they weren’t too common. But Charlie’s enthusiasm over his Meredith, his “Doc,” brought it all back. Blaine had moved out of the dorm room the day after that last threesome, a week earlier than he’d planned. Dylan had all but begged him to stay. Fuck, the man had begged.
“You ready for the barbecue tomorrow?” Charlie’s voice startled Blaine from his thoughts.
He grabbed Charlie’s beer and handed it off. “Need to go over my speech a few more times. You’d think I’d have it down pat by now. It’s pretty much the same thing every time. But since tomorrow’s Mother’s Day, I’ve added a bit about how the world would go to hell in a hand basket without moms.”
“Any new polls?”
“The newspaper’s last Tuesday. I’m leading. ’Course, their idea of a poll is standing out on Main Street and asking folks who they’re gonna vote for. Not very scientific.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet it’s pretty accurate,” Charlie said before taking a swig of his beer. “Any rain this week?”
“No. And the north tank’s about done.” They hadn’t had a good rain in seven months. A sprinkle here and there, mostly to the south.
“Thought I’d take Meredith fishing. Guess we’ll try the lake.”
Blaine stood and headed to the office. “There’s a doe and twin fawns hanging out down there. I’ve got pictures.”
Charlie followed him and set his beer on the desk. While Charlie studied the photos, Blaine studied Charlie. The muscular neck liberally sprinkled with freckles. The biceps that bulged simply from the curl of his arms as he held the photos. The veins in his forearms. And the hands, strong, callused, competent. They could be rough or gentle as the situation demanded. Blaine imagined them on his cock, gently and roughly. Charlie would know exactly how to handle him. Blaine’s cock twitched and lengthened at the thought. He glanced at his crotch to see if it was obvious beneath the heavy denim. Not yet. But soon if he didn’t get a grip.
“If y’all are there at dusk, you’ll probably get a good look at them.”
Charlie’s eyes shone. “She’ll love ’em.”
“Never knew a woman who could resist...” he trailed off as the dogs began yipping, followed by the sound of another set of tires slowly crunching through the gravel.
Charlie bolted for the office door. “That’ll be her. She’s early.”
“Must have a lead foot,” Blaine mumbled as he followed Charlie out onto the large covered porch.
As Charlie continued down the stairs, Blaine kept both dogs on the porch and commanded them to sit and stay. The woman might not be an animal lover. The dogs were good about not jumping on people, but they were big and some folks, especially city folks, didn’t appreciate their exuberance.
When he was sure the dogs were settled, he started down the stairs, but when the woman stepped out of the car, Blaine stumbled, caught himself and froze.
Ah, fuck. Not good. Not good at all.
Chapter Ten
When Charlie opened her car door, guilt swept over Meredith like a west Texas dust storm. He looked so happy and expectant, while she just wanted to escape the crushing sorrow and desolation of Mother’s Day. She was using him.
“You made good time,” he said.
“I was already on the road when I remembered to call you.” Actually she’d put off the call, thinking she might change her mind. Now she wished she’d stayed home.
As he opened her trunk and grabbed her bags, she reminded herself that she’d been honest with him. She’d told him she was only interested in sex.
Of course, then she’d completely contradicted that by having dinner at his place and spending the night...again. Eating breakfast with him...again. And here she was spending the week with him. No small wonder he had the wrong idea about their relationship. She’d seriously screwed up this one.
She followed him to steps leading up to the porch, stopped short and gasped. She stared agape at the man waiting at the top. He was more tan, his hair darker, but she’d recognize him anywhere. A choked whisper escaped her, so she could barely hear her own voice above the pounding of her heart. “Blaine?”
Charlie’s voice came through a fog. “You two know each other?”
She struggled for an explanation. He’s possibly, although not probably, the father of my daughter. Uh, not a good idea. Especially since neither Charlie nor Blaine was even aware she had a daughter.
Fortunately Blaine found a more acceptable explanation. “We’re college buddies.”
Well, at least one of them had his head on straight, even if he did look as dumbfounded as she felt. Why hadn’t she checked out the ranch online before she’d left Austin? Surely it had a web page. Any business seriously interested in survival was online. Fly-by-nights, too. She could have avoided all this.
“Talk about a small world,” Charlie said.
Meredith forced her slack jaw into a polite smile. Putting one foot carefully in front of the other, she climbed the stairs, extended her hand and drawled, “Blaine. It’s so good to see you again.” Good as in preferable to an aneurysm, or not getting tenure, or entrusting her daughter to two strangers to love and raise.
Damn. She’d wanted to escape Cassandra this week
end. And that just tripled her guilt.
She avoided his gaze as they touched. Coward. Instead she focused on his shoulder, broader than she remembered. He was heavier, too. He’d added some muscle since college.
“It’s been a long time,” Blaine said softly. “You look better than ever.”
She forced a light laugh and withdrew her hand. “You always were a sweet-talker.” Her mind blanked, leaving her at a loss for words, until one of the dogs yipped. Animals, blessed animals. She kneeled and slowly extended the back of one hand to the yellow mongrel whose excitement showed in his bright eyes and his tail thumping against the porch’s wooden planks. “Oh, aren’t you a good boy,” she said, modulating her voice to soothe. “And pretty, too. Yes, you are.”
“That’s Zach.” The other dog whined, and Blaine laughed. “And his partner in crime is Abby.”
“A to Z,” she said as she transferred her attention to Abby.
“Yep,” Blaine replied.
“Where’s the rest of the alphabet?”
“They’re it,” Charlie answered.
She stood and brushed her knees then spoke to Blaine while avoiding eye contact. “Now, tell me, are you a hunting guide like Charlie?”
Charlie cleared his throat. “Blaine owns the ranch.”
“But yes, I guide, too,” Blaine added.
“I had no idea you were such an outdoorsman,” Meredith said breathlessly. “You were so—oh, what’s the word I’m looking for?—studious in college.” She didn’t add when you weren’t drinking, watching sports, playing video games or having sex.
“He still puts in time behind a desk,” Charlie said. “Especially since he started running for sheriff.”
“Oooh, and a lawman, too,” she cooed.
“Not yet,” he countered. “But that’s the goal.”
As they followed Blaine into the house, she sensed Charlie’s attention on her. Sure enough, he was staring at her, questions in his eyes.
The room they entered was huge. High ceilings ribbed with dark wood beams. An oversized fireplace built with limestone rock along the left wall toward the back. Above it? What else but an animal head. Something with horns. A deer or an elk? Her brother-in-law could identify it. Rich, overstuffed, chocolate-colored leather furniture and age-darkened end tables grouped around the fireplace. To her right were two doors. The one to her immediate right opened into a room with a large oak desk, a computer and some papers on top. Two brown beer bottles sat among the papers. They’d started happy hour early. Or maybe not. It was almost six.
The other door, farther back, was open, but from this angle she couldn’t see what was in it. Between the two doors was another grouping of overstuffed chairs, some leather, some in a sturdy green-and-red plaid.
To her left, yet another door opened into a hallway. Between that door and the fireplace was a flat-screen that would give a movie buff or a sports nut a hard-on. A leather sofa and four recliners faced it. Definitely a room designed for men. At the very back was a double door leading into a wide hall.
“What can I get you to drink, Meredith?” Blaine asked.
“Oh, whatever the two of you are having will be fine. But first, I’d like to freshen up a bit if you don’t mind. I’m a mess after that drive.”
Charlie leaned over and murmured in her ear, “You look great. Sexy as always.” He straightened and raised his voice to a normal conversational tone. “I’ll show you to your room.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She beamed up at him then glanced at Blaine, still reluctant to make eye contact. “I won’t keep him long. I promise.”
As she followed Charlie through the closest door to the left, she wondered about the sleeping arrangements. They hadn’t discussed them. She’d assumed they’d be sharing a room and a bed. Stupid, stupid. She should have insisted on a separate room because she really needed some time alone to regroup.
“Um, Charlie.”
He smiled over his shoulder, unaware of the undercurrents in the house. If he read her feet at that moment, what they would tell him? “Yeah, Doc.”
He entered a bedroom and tossed both of her small bags on the bed’s starburst quilt. She surveyed the room, stalling to find the right words. An oak mission-style dresser and two matching nightstands were the only other furnishings. The tops of all three were bare of personal items. Just a small digital alarm clock on one of the nightstands.
“This is nice,” she said.
“I thought you’d like it. Mine’s right next door.” He paused, and his voice deepened. “Just because we’re not sharing a room doesn’t mean I don’t want to share a bed with you. I just thought you’d like some privacy.”
Relief flooded her, and she wanted to cry at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she said. “I really do appreciate it.”
His pleased little-boy smile touched her almost as much as his thoughtfulness. “I’ll let you settle in. We’ll be out in the den when you’re done.”
“Wait. I brought you something.” She flipped open her suitcase and lifted the long brown box with the bottle of tequila inside. When she offered it to him, she said, “Thank you for having me.”
“You didn’t have to do that. It’s great just having you here.” He shrugged, seeming unsure of himself. Not like Charlie at all.
“It was a beautiful drive,” she said lamely. It was all she could think of without lying.
If he recognized her response as lackluster, he didn’t show it. When he left her alone, she sank to the bed, curling into herself. After her suggestion to Charlie that he do an internet search on her, why the hell hadn’t she done the same for Charlie and the ranch? She could have saved herself this awkwardness.
Forget awkward, she could have saved herself the torture. So what was she supposed to do now?
She wanted to avoid Blaine but that was going to be difficult, considering this was his home. She’d have to hide out in the bedroom. That would be suspicious, not to mention rude. Not that she had a problem with rude. Not with Blaine. But Charlie didn’t deserve it. Leaving was out of the question unless she came up with a plausible excuse. Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to hurt Charlie. He was so excited about her visit.
At least Blaine had remembered her. It would have been rather ego-deflating if he hadn’t. Not that that meant anything. For all she knew, their threesome was one of a long line of kinky trios. Did they still share women and dump them the next day? Did he and Dylan even stay in touch?
Her jaw tightened, and her stomach clutched. As bad as it was seeing Blaine again, seeing Dylan would be worse. She’d known Blaine was a one-night stand. But she’d thought Dylan loved her. She’d been so fucking confused when Dylan hadn’t answered her calls. She’d gone to his dorm room. Blaine was gone, Dylan despondent. He’d told her it was over. Hadn’t given her a reason or offered an explanation. Nothing. Just goodbye.
Two months later, when she’d learned she was pregnant and worked up the courage to tell Dylan, he’d questioned whether the baby was his. Of course, she wasn’t sure. Two men had penetrated her that month. Blaine once. Dylan every Friday and Saturday night. Dylan’s condom was the one that had failed. But when she’d reminded him, he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t marrying her—as if she’d have him. He’d advised her to get an abortion. He hadn’t even offered to pay for it.
She’d been so young and so stupid, and they’d taken advantage and left her to deal with the consequences. A life lesson. One she’d never recover from.
* * *
Charlie reluctantly left Meredith alone to settle in. Something was going on with her. He didn’t know why, but she’d reverted to her ditzy blonde routine. He wanted to ask her, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion. And while he didn’t think she’d lie, he didn’t believe she’d be forthcoming either.
“College buddies, huh?” Charlie said.
Blaine sighed and raked a hand through his dark blond hair. “Yeah. Her boyfriend was my roommate. I hung out with them sometimes.”
Charlie nodded but didn’t say anything. Blaine looked guilty as hell. Miserable, too. That was it. Blaine was the key. She’d been fine—normal—until she’d seen him. Maybe the blast from the past had thrown her off. Maybe Blaine only knew the ditzoid, and she was reluctant to show him Dr. Burke.
“It didn’t end well,” Blaine said.
That tidbit startled Charlie. Why was Blaine elaborating? “The boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“It was a long time ago,” Charlie said. He hoped to hell she wasn’t still hung up on the guy. But that would explain her reaction to Blaine. Nothing like digging up bad memories, especially when you least expected them.
Blaine’s smile didn’t extend to his eyes. His campaign smile. “You’re right.” His chuckle sounded forced. “Eight years, give or take. Seems longer.”
Charlie didn’t say anything, just observed his friend and noted the slight changes in his expression. Longing. Regret. Guilt. It was almost like reading a book, which was why Charlie was so good at “foot reading.” He didn’t actually read the feet. He read the face. Sometimes there were other clues, like the cat hair on Meredith’s jeans. And most people liked to talk about themselves, so as he “read” their feet, his subjects provided even more information.
Blaine focused again. “So Meredith is your Doc.”
“Yeah.” He almost didn’t ask his next question. It wasn’t any of his business. Not really. But he didn’t want any more surprises this week—not unpleasant ones, anyway. “You still in touch with her old boyfriend? He around here?”
“No. I haven’t seen him since I graduated. I don’t know where he ended up.”
Tempting Meredith Page 12