by Gail, Stacy
“Such as?”
“A copy of the bogus contract, for starters.”
“Really?” Her brows shot up as she crossed to where he stood. “That’s terrific for her case, but how is that going to help Carlos Xavier?”
“If I can put a case of fraud together for Mrs. Bimmel, maybe Carlos will see he’s not alone and his pride won’t suffer so much. This might get him to open up and give me the information I need.”
“You really think he might have a case?”
“I don’t know yet. Mrs. Bimmel remembered the location of the grazing land, but she wasn’t going to tell me about it over the phone. I suspect she doesn’t trust lawyers.”
“Smart lady,” Payton observed, then dodged the playful swipe he took at her bottom. “I think it’s sweet she’s so eager to help you.”
“Sweet, hell. That woman wants blood. I’m meeting with her tomorrow around noon to discuss whose blood she wants.” Catching her by the waist, he laced his fingers behind her back. “Want to join me? I’m sure she would love to see you again. I’ll let you drive my car.”
“Thanks, but I’m having lunch with my mother. I haven’t spent much time with her since I’ve been back, and as much as I would love to see our sweet Mrs. Bimmel—” she paused for his derisive snort, “—I should spend some time getting to know my mother again before I go back,” she finished in a rush, turning out of his arms before he could see her pain.
There was a heavy beat of silence. “Houston’s not that far away.”
“It’s far enough.” Payton steeled herself to prove to both of them that she could stick to their agreement of no complications. With a determined nonchalance, she reached for the zipper of her ruined dress, let it slither to the floor, then unhooked her bra. Completely nude, she faced him with a demure smile. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to hop in the shower with me? I don’t want to be late for the party.”
“Too bad.” The gleam in his eyes had nothing to do with work as he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. “Because we’re going to be just that.”
Chapter Fourteen
The party was in full swing by the time Payton and Wiley made their way around the orange-and-white barricades that blocked off the end of the crowded street. Children with sparklers, neon glow necklaces and safety glow sticks flew by, trailing shouts of laughter in their wake. The kicky Tex-Mex beat of Tejano music thumped through the air from the live band situated atop a well-lit flatbed truck. The vigorous call of the accordion, drums, violins and trumpet tempted revelers to grab a partner and dance under the endless strings of tiny white lights. The mingling scents of flaming tiki torches and mesquite-stoked barrel smokers had Payton breathing it in as appreciatively as she would an expensive perfume. This was small-town Southern life at its finest, and she wanted to savor every bit of it.
As they worked their way toward the Rodriguez house farther down the block, Payton found herself the recipient of more than a few pointed looks. After she nodded to a staring man she vaguely recognized as the pharmacist, Payton inched closer to Wiley.
“Am I paranoid, or are people watching us a little too closely?”
“Oh. That.” Wiley grimaced and came to a stop under a showy lattice of pink-and-white crepe streamers. “I guess I should have told you sooner.”
“Told me what?”
“It’s nothing really. Nothing of great importance, that is. I mean, I suppose some might think it’s important, but it’s not going to alter the course of the world, or anything—”
“Wiley, you’re stalling,” she said, nervous now. “Spill it.”
He cleared his throat, stunning her. Wiley never made nervous sounds. “It might be possible our intimate relationship hasn’t gone unnoticed by the good citizens of Bitterthorn.”
She stared at him. “They know we’re sleeping together?”
“I believe the rumor is that sleep has very little to do with it.”
“Oh.” Payton glanced around the crowd with new eyes and saw that, indeed, there was a certain smug knowledge behind the glances aimed her way. In that moment she realized every single person in town, maybe the entire county, knew exactly what she and Wiley were up to. “Oh, my.”
“Sweetheart, none of these people matter.” Wiley pulled her close as though to shield her from the gossip and kissed her temple. “Please don’t be upset.”
“Upset?” She glanced at him, and through her initial discomfort she was shocked to see the storm of anxiety in his eyes. Not because of the rumors, but because of her. He looked as though he would go to any lengths to protect her, even from the inconsequential slings and arrows from a town full of good-natured gossips.
He looked as though he truly cared for her.
“Wiley.” With her heart overflowing with love, Payton brushed her fingers down his cheek to the corner of his mouth, the unabashed, intimate touch of a lover. Then she kissed him, long and slow and deep, without shame or fear or even defiance. It was a statement of her love, and she didn’t care who saw it. When she broke off, she smiled into his dazed eyes. “I’m not upset.”
“You’re not? You’re not,” he realized in an obvious amazement that made her laugh out loud. He joined her out of sheer relief and hugged her hard enough to lift her feet from the ground. “God, woman, you never cease to amaze me. You don’t care?”
“I don’t if you don’t. Call me sweetheart again.”
“Sweetheart.” He said it against her lips, and there was a husky resonance in his voice that she now recognized as desire. “We’ve spent enough time at the party, don’t you think?”
“We just got here. We can’t leave for at least an hour, maybe more.”
“Payton, you’re killing me.”
“Okay, an hour, tops.” Smiling, she reached for his hand. “Let’s go say hello to the newest member of Bitterthorn.”
* * *
Wiley kept his fingers entwined with Payton’s as they made their way to the Rodriquez family. With the tingle of her lips still warm on his, he could do little more than nod and smile at the people they passed. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Payton to do now that she knew the whole town was in on their relationship, but when she kissed him and took the fun out of any small-town gossip, it was as though she was claiming him. Just as he was claiming her.
Life didn’t get much better than that.
“Dr. Pruitt, Wiley.” Arturo Rodriguez lit up when he caught sight of them. Carefully cradling his newborn daughter, he motioned them over to where he sat with his wife at a picnic table in the middle of the street. “We were beginning to think you two weren’t going to make it.”
Wiley gave a shot at looking innocent. “You know how these docs are, Art. They always make you wait.”
“You do like to live dangerously, don’t you?” Payton shot him a smoldering look before turning a smile on the new daddy. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Art. And please, call me Payton.”
“My pleasure, Payton. Do you remember this little girl?” Art asked, nodding proudly to his daughter.
“How could I forget such a sweetie?” Payton peeked under the blanket at the baby before smiling at the mother. “How are you feeling, Mary Lou?”
“Fantastic, thanks to you. Here.” Mary Lou, a bubbly brunette, moved to make more room at the table. “I’ve been saving you two a spot. Wiley, it’s good of you to come.”
“Believe me, the pleasure’s all mine. I’m hoping for a chance to hold the most beautiful baby in the world.”
Mary Lou laughed with pure pleasure. “I’d say yes, but I don’t know if we can pry her out of Art’s arms.”
“Hey,” Art protested, “it’s not my fault she’s only quiet when I hold her. Not even a week old and already she’s a daddy’s girl.” Dissolving into
a babble of baby talk, Art nuzzled his face in the baby’s tummy. “Isn’t she perfect?”
Wiley snorted. “Yeah, she’s perfect. You, of course, have lost all your marbles.” Amid the laughter, Wiley eyed the father and daughter with that strange hollowness that had attacked him when he’d been at Trina and Alex’s. “Come on, Art, you can hold her anytime. Share the wealth.”
Whispering one last daddy secret to his daughter, Art handed the tiny bundle over. “Okay, Coyote. Let’s see how well you do with this little lady.”
“I’m never going to live that stupid name down. Oh wow.” Wiley held his breath as he settled the baby against his heart. “She’s so little.”
“That won’t last long.” Payton leaned in to peek once more at little Melina. “Better give her back to Daddy before she falls for you, Wiley.”
“Not every girl falls for me. You’re proof of that.” He glanced at her. “Right?”
“True enough.” And with a nod she turned to discuss infant care with Mary Lou, leaving Wiley to stew over her answer.
* * *
It took most of Payton’s strength to keep a calm mask in place and not look at the sigh-worthy picture Wiley made holding a baby. It was just a hormonal response; any woman melted at a handsome, virile man cuddling a baby, and it was a double whammy on her defenses when that man just happened to be her lover. But she wasn’t going to fall for it by thinking how natural he looked, patting a baby’s back as he held her against his shoulder. Or how special his smile was when he looked at the little scrap of life.
No. She wasn’t about to think about it. That way led to madness. Or at least becoming a cliché who thought about nothing except her biological clock.
She started when Mary Lou touched her arm. “I’m sorry?”
“I was asking how you were enjoying your trip home.”
“Oh.” Payton couldn’t stop her gaze from swinging back to Wiley. “There have been a few surprises, but I can honestly say I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve given any more thought to staying?”
“No.” Payton’s breath caught in her throat when Wiley looked up from the baby to lock gazes with her. “I’m under contract in Houston.”
“I’d like to see this contract of yours,” Wiley said, shifting the baby to the crook of his arm. “It might not be as ironclad as you seem to think.”
“To be honest, I don’t know whether it is or not. That’s not the issue.”
“What is?”
“Commitment.” You know, that alien concept of which you have no knowledge. “I made a promise when I signed my name on that dotted line. I don’t take that lightly.”
“Nobody’s asking you to. But you’re needed here, and I definitely don’t take that lightly.”
“Let’s not apply any pressure tonight,” Mary Lou suggested when Payton frowned. “Just relax, grab something to eat, have a beer and dance the night away. Tomorrow’s soon enough to figure out a way to entice you to stay.”
Payton lifted a brow as Mary Lou took her daughter from Wiley. “That’s your idea of no pressure?”
“Honey, I haven’t even begun,” came the drawling reply before she shooed a hand at them. “Go have fun. Melina and I are just going to sit here and bask in the adulation.”
Time became meaningless as the party gained in strength. With her arms twined around Wiley’s neck, Payton swayed to the lazy beat of the music. As the moon rose high overhead, porch lights blazed and indoor lamps were brought out on extension cords. It was a hodgepodge of images, pure down-home fun, and Payton loved it all.
“What’s the smile for?” Wiley murmured against her cheek.
How could she not smile? She was dancing in the street with the man she loved. “I was thinking we’re all providing a feast for the mosquitoes.”
He laughed. “Damn, what a romantic. Having a good time?”
“The best. I don’t remember block parties being this much fun.”
“That’s because you always avoided them.”
“I was never invited to them. Or any other parties, now that you mention it.”
“You don’t need an engraved invitation for one of these blowouts.” His voice was chiding as he pulled back to smile down at her. “I’ll bet at least one-third of the people here simply heard the noise and decided to see what was going on.”
She looked around. “Party crashers?”
“Every good party has them.” With a quick nod, he returned a wave from a passing couple, the woman obviously pregnant. “There goes a couple hoping against hope they’ll be as lucky as Mary Lou was—that a doctor will be here when their baby arrives.”
The man didn’t know when to give up. “Maybe we can get Bitterthorn involved in a regional rural doctor program.”
There was a beat of silence. “You know, you’re remarkably unforgiving.”
Payton’s jaw dropped as her temper rose. “What?”
“Just because you were bullied, you’re going to punish an entire town for it.”
“That’s not true.” Stunned he could believe she was so vindictive, Payton stopped dancing, the hot flash of anger now tempered with a surprising dash of hurt. “You must know that’s not true.”
“Prove it. Stay.”
Her heart seemed to pause as that one word reverberated in her head. “Pretty weak reason to stay, isn’t it? To prove a point?”
“These people need you, Payton.”
No mention of Wiley needing her, though. She shouldn’t be surprised. Or disappointed. “No pressure, Wiley. Remember?”
“This isn’t pressure.”
She made herself laugh since the urge to cry was almost choking her. “Right.”
“At least let me take a look at your contract. Okay?”
Her sigh sounded as tired as she suddenly felt. “Fine. I’ll email it to you.”
“Well, well. If it isn’t the good doctor and her lawyer.”
Payton turned to find Chandler Thorne on the edge of what had become the dancing area. “You make it sound as though I own him.”
Chandler smiled. “Do you?”
“No one owns the Coyote.”
“Even coyotes can be trained, if it’s by the right hand.” Wiley’s tone cooled enough to draw Payton’s attention. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“I don’t see why not. I’ve known Arturo all my life.”
“But not, apparently, long enough to know he prefers to be called Art.”
Payton nearly gaped at Wiley’s open hostility. “Uh, Wiley, I’m thirsty, so—”
“Even news hacks like me have friends, though I’m sure you find that hard to believe.” Apparently unfazed, Chandler slid his hands into what looked like tailor-made slacks. “Speaking of friends, how’s the Xavier foreclosure investigation coming along?”
“As I’ve already told you, I haven’t been hired by Carlos, or anyone in his family.”
“That hasn’t stopped you from tackling the problem. Have you turned up anything?”
Wiley’s eyes narrowed. “Why so much interest, Chandler?”
“It’s news, obviously. No one else seems to think there’s anything wrong with the foreclosure, yet you keep picking away at it. I’m curious as to why that is.”
“I’m just being neighborly.”
The look in Chandler’s eyes was impossible to decipher. “I was wondering what you were going to do now that the Xavier property’s been sold. Care to comment?”
Wiley tensed. “Sold?”
“The deal was finalized through Sundown Realty this morning.” Chandler watched Wiley’s expression. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, it doesn’t look like you can do anything more about the foreclosure now.”
“Not
unless the law has been broken. If it has, not only will the foreclosure be declared null and void, but the person—or people—who are responsible will go to prison.”
It was Chandler’s turn to narrow his eyes. “You sound like you know something I don’t.”
“Oh, I doubt that very much.” Wiley abruptly turned away. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“Just one more question, Counselor. Have you had any more problems with vandalism? I noticed when the Herald was printing out the police blotter, you’ve have to make reports out several times recently, citing property damage. Any comment as to why that might be happening?”
Wiley leveled a quelling gaze Chandler’s way. “Considering that nothing else has happened and therefore it’s a nonissue as far as I’m concerned, I’m not even going to bother to comment.”
“If you say so. Save a dance for me later, Doctor.”
Keeping her mouth shut, Payton watched Chandler disappear into the crowd, but her silence didn’t last long. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so hostile with anyone like you are with Chandler Thorne. Usually you’re in the mode of charming the birds out of the trees.” Or me into your bed.
“I’ve never been a fan of Chandler Thorne’s, and I sure as hell don’t want him to stir up trouble by trying to make a story out of yesterday’s news.”
“Has Sheriff Berry come up with any leads on who’s been harassing you?”
“The last time I saw the good sheriff, he was busy tracking down the last piece of strawberry pie over at Mabel’s. He did tell me that he’s ordered hourly patrols by the house, but since he’s obviously not worrying himself to death over it, I’m going to follow his lead and hope for the best.”
A surge of pride washed over her. “Excellent idea. If someone tries to wield terror as a weapon, the single greatest thing you can do is make a stand and live your life as normal.”
“I wouldn’t call keying my car wielding terror, but I get the picture.” His happy smile told her that her words pleased him, and without warning he executed a dizzying spin. “You’re not really going to save a dance for Chandler, are you?”