by Gail, Stacy
“What did you want to discuss?”
“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” she said in a rush, remembering her mother’s advice as she pulled her hand free. “I was unfair, making a snap judgment that you were trying to play me just because you kissed me. So...I’m sorry.”
“Is that so?” Eyeing her as though he expected some kind of trick, he lifted a brow. “Maybe I’ve been guilty of one or two snap judgments myself.”
“About what?”
“About you.” He cupped her cheek as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching her when they were so close. “It’s easy to remember how prickly you can be, because that’s basically how you’ve always been. I keep forgetting you’re only like that because you’re protecting all those intriguing vulnerabilities you hide on the inside.”
“Me? Vulnerable?” She tried to laugh, because the accuracy of the observation kicked up a whirlwind of panic. “Not me, pal. I’m solid steel, through and through.”
“Don’t forget, I know exactly what it was like for you growing up here, enduring attacks day after day with no one stepping in to protect you. I know you had to grow one hell of a tough shell to keep everyone who was trying to hurt you at bay. But I’m not one of those people who would ever hurt you, Payton. I’m the one person you can count on who will always do his damnedest to protect you.”
Payton swallowed hard against the sudden tightness in her throat while her eyes began to burn. Didn’t he know he was the one man who made her the most vulnerable? “Hey, Wiley? Could you do me a favor?”
“Name it.”
“Would you mind not being so nice to me?”
His other hand slid into her hair. “Why would you ask me to do a crazy thing like that?”
“Because.” Valiantly she tried to keep her eyes from closing, but that was just this side of impossible when his touch was her personal idea of heaven. “I can’t resist you when you’re nice to me.”
“Really?” A smile lit his face even as he lowered his mouth. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, letting me in on that important little secret. I promise I won’t forget it.”
She was in all kinds of trouble now, was all she could think as his lips found hers. The kind of trouble that either brought women to their knees or made them think stupid things. Like violins and candlelight. Roses with no thorns. Happily ever after with a genuine Prince Charming, and not a frog in sight.
Oh, she was in so much trouble.
Their first kiss had been full of unexpected fire, as wild as a roller-coaster ride and as violent as a summer storm. The wildness was still there, but Payton found herself seduced by a deeper flavor, a richness as elusive as it was addictive. It was a tidal wave of something so powerful it stole her breath, so much so that it took her a moment to recognize it for what it was. Anticipation. Their first kiss had only opened the door to a new world that had always been there waiting for them, brimming over with endless possibilities.
Now it was time to explore.
His mouth was hot and seeking, working seductive magic on hers and urging her to invite him deeper. The sun was dwarfed by the heat he sparked with every probing stroke of his tongue and hungry nip of his teeth. Her arms wrapped around his neck without any memory of how they got there, and she clung as if he were the only solid thing in a world that no longer existed.
He moved until the sun-heated steel of the pickup pressed into her back. He leaned into her as though he hungered to tattoo himself with the imprint of her body. Hungry for that herself, she pushed past his suit jacket with greedy hands to flatten them against his back, her fingertips dipping in beneath his waistband. A sound between a growl and a moan grated deep in Wiley’s throat, and that purr of approval made her shudder as his pleasure heightened her own. Restlessly his hands roamed down to the swell of her bottom, before his fingers curled on the folds of her skirt as though frustrated by the barrier. It was a frustration that was contagious, resonating inside her until the need for flesh against flesh was a physical ache. Without a thought she rubbed her body against his until every nerve threatened to spontaneously combust.
A groan rippled from Wiley as if he was being tortured, and he ground his hips against hers in wordless demand to merge into her hidden depths. Her mind drained of every coherent thought when she felt the iron-hard thrust of his manhood, pulsing against her with an urgency she understood all too well. She wanted him outrageously, more than she wanted air, more than she needed water, and she didn’t even care they were a breath away from making love in broad daylight in a public parking lot.
Then a horn sounded in the distance, followed by a testy shout, and only then did she realize they weren’t alone in the universe. “Uh...Wiley? This...this is—”
“Right. This is so right, Payton.” Lifting her just a little, he balanced her weight between the side of the pickup and his legs, pressing his hips closer. A helpless whimper of pleasure escaped her as the position parted her legs until her inner thighs clamped over his hips. There was an unmistakable gleam of triumph in his eyes a moment before he buried his mouth against her throat. “I’ve never felt anything more right.”
Logic told her she shouldn’t believe him. But with his hips pumping against the veiled juncture of her thighs and his mouth sampling the flavor of her pulse in her neck, she wanted to forget all about logic and just believe. Believe he felt the same overwhelming wave of passion that was engulfing her, believe that what had come before had merely been a prelude for this moment. Everyone had a history. What mattered was now, this moment.
In a parking lot behind a greasy spoon.
“Dear God, Payton, I want you now. Right now.”
“Now?” Urgent, demanding, he rocked his hips against hers, and there was no way she could stifle a low moan.
“I love the noises you make.” His voice was rough with need, a velvet rasp that could have seduced the devil himself. “I could have you right here.”
“Wiley... Oh God, wait.” Somewhere along the way she had pulled his shirt out from the waistband of his pants. It took most of her strength to stop herself from stroking her hands over his lower back, and the remainder of her strength got eaten up by the willpower it took to push him away. “Please, just...wait a second.”
“Wait?” He repeated the word like he’d never heard it before. “We’ve waited too long already. Years.”
“But—”
“I love the taste of you.” Dragging the strap of her dress from her shoulder, he let his lips trail to the exposed skin. “I think I’m addicted.”
She knew what that madness was like, with the flavor that was uniquely Wiley still on her tongue. “Wiley, please. I have to think.”
“Don’t think.”
“Do you realize we’re in public?” Again she pushed against his chest, and nearly caved when the flat nipple puckered against her palm through the thin veil of his shirt. “We can’t just break out and have sex right here in broad daylight. Against a pickup, for God’s sake.”
Frustration flashed in his eyes, but that last part sparked a quick grin. “Would you prefer a limo?”
“I’d prefer not to have this happen beside the loading dock of Mabel’s Diner.”
“You’re right.” There was no laughter in him now as his hands clenched on her hips. “Come home with me.”
“What?” The startled response was no more than a whisper. For just a moment she saw in his eyes a reflection of what they both wanted—their bodies entwined together on a bed unfettered by clothes. Or sheets. Or anything at all. In perfect union they pulsed and rocked and writhed, straining in agonized desperation for the explosion of mindless pleasure.
The sweetness of that vision twined around her until it was all she could see. “I...”
“Just say yes.”
Oh, how easy he made it all sound. “I don’t think
that would be a good idea.”
Wiley stared at her as if he doubted his hearing. “You seemed to think it was a good idea a few minutes ago.”
“I know.” She squeezed her eyes closed and wished she could shut out the wild emotions he unleashed in her just as easily. “That’s the point. I wasn’t thinking. Now I am.”
“You want me, Payton. Don’t deny it.”
He had her there. “Yes, I do. I mean, I did.”
The past tense had his eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not like you.”
“Now you’ve really lost me.”
“My first time was with a man I thought I might one day marry,” she said, trying to explain what she suspected was the unexplainable. Getting Wiley to grasp how she viewed relationships was like communicating with someone from another planet—inevitably the heart of it was going to be lost in translation. “It was a relationship that lasted until he went overseas to complete his doctorate, so it obviously wasn’t a fly-by-night thing. None of my relationships have been fly-by-night, because I don’t know how to be casual when it comes to intimacy. I can’t just take what I want, then go on my merry way tomorrow.”
“That’s not what I’m offering.”
“That’s what I have to give. I’m here for less than week before I go back to Houston. I probably won’t even see you again after today, so it hardly makes sense to get involved with you in a way that might...entangle me.” She couldn’t explain any more than that. Not for the world was she ready to admit that his kisses alone were enough to make her yearn to stay forever at the side of a man who had no idea what the word forever meant.
There was a scowl building in his expression. “I’m really beginning to hate Houston. It’s not the moon, you know.”
“It may as well be. My future is there, not here. Bitterthorn is my past, Wiley. I’d have to be nuts to allow myself to get involved with you now. It would...” Hurt too much. “It wouldn’t be smart.”
“That may be, but you’re overlooking one thing.”
“What?”
“You’re already involved with me.”
Her blood iced over. “A kiss or two doesn’t mean anything.”
“A kiss or two can mean everything when it’s done right. I know it’s not logical or rational, but it’s the truth,” he added when she shook her head in horrified denial. “I guess that’s got to scare the hell out of a logical, rational person like you.”
Pride snapped her chin up. “I’m not scared.”
“Ah, Payton. You’re so irresistible when you lie.” The hands at her hips squeezed, either in punishment or comfort, she couldn’t tell which. “Look at this as an opportunity to learn a life lesson, sweetheart. Trying to make sense out of something that feels this right is like trying to hold on to sunshine. It can’t be done. All we can do is accept that we’re going to be lovers.”
The mere thought of it filled her with such yearning she nearly moaned. No way was it healthy to want something that much. “Not if I can help it.”
“You won’t be able to.” His hands slid up and cupped her breasts, sensuously lifting their feminine weight. Her low sigh of pleasure made his breath catch. “We’re almost there now.”
She trembled, melting against him. “Damn you... More.”
“Anything to make you happy—”
“Wiley! You still out here?”
Payton sprang away from him as the intruding voice shattered their private world. Furious, Wiley swore under his breath, looking for a moment like he might attack anything that moved. “Yeah, Jilly, what is it?”
“Rafe is on the phone asking for you.” The waitress appeared around the corner of the building, clearly following the sound of his voice. “Do you have your phone off, or something?”
“Guilty. What does he want?”
“Something about Sheriff Berry needing to know what time frame you were out of your house when it got vandalized.”
“What?” Payton glanced quickly to him and hoped her flesh wasn’t visibly glowing from the seductive glide of his hands. “Your house was vandalized?”
“It’s no big deal.” He waved it away as if it were nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I need to take this call.”
“That’s not all. Rafe wanted to know if Dr. Pruitt is with you.” She offered a wry wave to Payton. “I guess she is. By the way, Dr. Pruitt, your mom wanted me to let you know she needed to get back to work, so she’ll catch up with you later.”
“Payton Pruitt, Jilly Bascomb.” Without an ounce of self-consciousness, Wiley righted his clothes. “I doubt you remember, Payton, but Jilly was a year behind us in high school. She was on both the pep squad and the all-state cheerleading team.”
“Oh.” Payton smoothed a nervous hand over her hair. “How do you do?”
Jilly’s smile was a flash of brilliance. “I hope that’s not a medical question.”
“Uh, no...”
“I remember you even if you don’t remember me,” Jilly rattled on as they returned to the bustling diner. “I envied you every time my parents signed my report card.”
“Oh?” Distracted, Payton watched Wiley round the counter and pick up the phone, her brain spinning uselessly. Had she almost tossed caution to the wind and had stand-up public sex with Wiley? The Coyote? If she looked the world over, she wouldn’t be able to find a worse match for her. And yet despite all reasoning as to why he would be devastating to her peace of mind, she had very nearly become his latest acquisition.
Worse yet, part of her was sorry they’d been interrupted.
With an effort, she dragged her attention to the redhead. “Did Rafe say why he was looking for me?”
“Nope. Just that he was looking.” Jilly lifted a wry brow. “I’d be careful if I were you, Doc. Rafe’s a doll, but given half a chance he’ll do his best to turn your head.”
If she had her head turned any more she’d be doing a Linda Blair impersonation. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And speaking of dolls.” Jilly slid a glance Wiley’s way. “He’s something, isn’t he?”
“That he is.” Anything else would be a lie.
“I’ve had a soft spot for him ever since high school. We even dated briefly.”
Surprise, surprise. “Wiley dated everyone briefly.”
“Not you.” The smile Jilly offered was oddly wistful. “You always meant something more to him.”
Payton raised a dubious eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“After Wiley started passing his exams with flying colors, we all knew it had to be his tutor’s influence, even though you were never seen together at school. And then when he went all fight-club rabid with some bully and got himself suspended, the whole school knew he’d done it to defend you.”
“How could the whole school know? I didn’t even know that.” Even as she spoke, the memory of Wiley accusing her of burying herself in books echoed in her mind.
“Everyone knew,” Jilly reiterated with a wry lift of a shoulder. “He dated just about every swoony girl who crossed his path in high school, including me, but you were the only one he ever fought for. I guess that’s another reason why I envied you.” Her name was called, and she grabbed a pitcher of iced tea. “See you around, Doc.”
Payton watched her go while the confusion inside her grew.
Chapter Nine
The track leading to Alex Xavier’s house was a neatly kept unpaved road that wound through a stand of century-old pecans. Wiley threw his sunglasses on the Corvette’s dashboard while the sun sank in the west, gearing up for the battle of simply getting his client to talk with him.
Not that Carlos was his client, he reminded himself as he pulled up to the two-story stone-and-beam prairie house. The patriarch of
the Xavier family had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him. He figured no one in Bitterthorn would blame him if he quietly dropped the investigation, offered his sympathies and went on his way.
But he wasn’t ready to bounce just yet. Aside from needing the distraction from the chaos in his life, he’d never been able to resist a puzzle, and that was exactly what the Xavier foreclosure was. A giant jigsaw puzzle that had no accompanying picture and several missing pieces, but that was part of the fun. Small wonder he wasn’t able to leave it alone.
Movement on the porch made Wiley look up as he cut the engine, and he waved a hand at Alex Xavier. “Evening, Alex. I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”
“You’re just in time to be invited to it. Trina’s pot roast could win awards.”
“Sounds tempting, but I’m going to have to ask for a rain check.” Following his friend into the Southwestern decorated living room, Wiley shot him a searching look. “How’s your grandfather’s mood today?”
“Same as always. Acting like a guest with us and not speaking unless spoken to.”
“And he won’t talk about the events leading to the foreclosure?”
Alex grimaced. “That would mean admitting he made a mistake. He’s a proud man, Wiley. The sun will fall from the sky before he does that.”
Wiley bit back a curse. “His silence isn’t making things easier.”
“He doesn’t care. About anything.”
“Could I speak with him?”
“Fine by me, though I suspect it’ll be same old, same old. He won’t talk to you, dude.”
“We’ll see.”
After being directed out to the back patio, Wiley found Carlos Xavier sitting in a cushioned wrought-iron patio chair, watching his two eldest great-grandsons toss a football through the purpling twilight. At first glance it seemed a heartwarming moment, but one look into Carlos’s leathery, wrinkled face dispelled any notion of familial tranquility.
The man was mourning himself to death.