“Was your father abusive to her?”
“I never saw him hit her, but there were mornings when she had black eyes or a swollen lip and bruises on her arms and legs. It didn’t take a rocket scientist for me to figure out something bad was happening between them when I was asleep.”
Once again emotion tightened in his chest, almost making it impossible for him to draw a breath. “I wanted to protect her, but he was so big and mean, and the one time I decided to say something to him I got so scared I wet my pants.”
Once again she placed her hand on his arm. “And you never heard from your mother again?”
He shook his head. “It was such a sudden and complete abandonment by the most important person in my world. I swore then that I would never be abandoned again, that I would never love anyone that deeply again.”
To his horror, tears pressed hot at his eyes and he gazed at her with blurred vision and a sense of helplessness. It was a wounded child in control of him, a lost little boy who had never been allowed to be in control before.
She pulled him into her arms. He leaned into her as the tears burned even hotter. He was appalled. He was embarrassed, and he was humiliated by his sudden emotional weakness. To that end, he tried to pull away from her, but she held tight and he finally gave in to the embrace...to her warmth and to her comfort.
He didn’t allow himself the release of deep sobs and racing tears, rather his tears oozed from his eyes silently. “You didn’t deserve the childhood you had,” Miranda said softly as she continued to hug him close. “You didn’t deserve any of it. Your father should have been put in jail for the way he treated a little boy.”
The words soothed him, as did her hands, which moved up and down his back. It was as if she had found that wounded little boy inside him and was loving him like nobody else ever had.
But any vestiges of that little boy slowly faded away as he became aware of the softness of her breasts against his chest. Her evocative scent surrounded him and desire buoyed up inside him to replace his pain.
He raised his head and for a long moment their gazes remained locked. In the depths of her sharp blue eyes he saw compassion...sympathy, but he also saw something else: a simmering emotion he believed he recognized.
Her lips were so close to his and all he could think about was tasting them once again. She parted her lips as if in anticipation and he covered her mouth with his.
Sweet heat rushed through him. She didn’t pull away, but rather leaned into him and opened her mouth to allow him deeper entry. His tongue touched her lower lip and then slid in to dance with hers.
Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against his own and he was instantly aroused. His hands tangled in the silk of her hair as he leaned closer...closer still to her. Despite her wearing a bra and a blouse, he thought he felt her nipples harden.
He wanted her. Lordy, he wanted her so badly and he believed she wanted him, too. He tasted desire in her kiss and that had nothing to do with mere friendship.
Their kiss went on forever. Even when they both were half breathless, the kiss continued. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet lips beneath his. The fact that she didn’t break the kiss or push him away gave him courage.
He slid his hands up beneath her blouse. The skin on her back was so warm and soft and inviting. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her up to the bed where he’d been sleeping and dreaming about her. Visions of her naked and eager in his arms taunted him. He started to move his hands around to cup her breasts.
“Clay, stop!”
He sprang back from her as if she were on fire. She stared just past his shoulder to the window and raised a trembling hand to point. “I... I just saw a face. At the window. Somebody is out there.” Her voice shook with obvious fear.
Jumping up off the sofa, a new and different kind of adrenaline shot through him. Thank God he hadn’t put the chair under the doorknob yet. He unlocked the door and yanked it open. He ran outside where it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of night. When they did, he saw a dark figure running up the sidewalk.
Clay took off after him and he could tell it was a him by the size and shape of the person. He ran as fast as he could, his heart nearly exploding out of his chest with his exertions.
The figure veered off the sidewalk and headed for the shadowed blackness between two houses. The last thing Clay wanted to do was to lose sight of the person. He needed to know who had been peeping into Miranda’s window and why. Dammit, he needed to catch him.
The runner was fast, but Clay was determined and quickly gained on him. He ignored the stitch in his side and the burn of his calves.
When he was close enough, he lunged forward onto the person’s shoulders. The two went down to the ground and rolled. Clay scrambled to his feet and pulled his gun as he stared into Robby Davies’s eyes.
“Don’t shoot!” Robby curled up into a fetal ball in the grass. “Please...please don’t shoot me.”
“Get up,” Clay commanded.
“I didn’t do anything,” Robby replied. “You shouldn’t pull a gun on me just because I was walking down the sidewalk.”
“You weren’t just walking...you were running away from Miranda’s house. Now, get the hell up before I decide to put a bullet in your leg.”
Robby got to his feet. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said again as Clay gestured for him to walk back to Miranda’s house.
“You can tell it to Dillon,” Clay said. He didn’t know what made him angrier: Robby window peeping or that by doing so the kid had ruined Clay’s magical moments with Miranda.
* * *
Robby refused to speak or look at her while they waited for Dillon to arrive. What had he been doing lurking in the dark of night around her house? Had he been looking for a way to break in? Hoping for a time when she’d be home all alone?
She gazed at the teenager she saw every day in the school hallways. His dark hair looked greasy and unkempt, and his expression was sullen as he stared down at the floor. She had never done anything to make him mad at her, angry enough to try to kill her.
Was he the one who had thrown the acid on her? Cut her brake lines? He’d been at the carnival that night and he had access to her car. And why had he been outside her house and peeping in her window?
Clay also remained silent as they waited for the chief of police to arrive. His grim expression and the energy that wafted from him twisted her stomach in knots of anxiety. She knew Clay was thinking the same thing she was, that Robby might be responsible for trying to kill her twice.
Thank God Clay had managed to catch him. Otherwise they wouldn’t have known who had been outside her window. At least now they had somebody as a suspect.
She released a deep sigh of relief when Dillon finally arrived. Clay quickly filled him in and the lawman eyed Robby with obvious suspicion. “What were you doing outside Miranda’s house?” he asked.
“I wasn’t doing nothing,” Robby replied, his gaze still on the floor in front of him.
“You were looking in my window. I saw you, Robby,” Miranda replied.
“I didn’t mean any harm.” Robby’s cheeks flushed with color and he finally looked up at Dillon. “Can I talk to you, like, in private?”
Dillon hesitated and then nodded. “Okay, we can step outside, but don’t even think about running off because no matter where you run, I’ll find you.”
“I’m not gonna run off,” Robby said.
With a nod to Miranda and Clay, Dillon ushered Robby outside. “I wonder what excuse he’s giving Dillon for being here,” she said.
“Who knows, but he has no business being anywhere around your house,” Clay replied. “Makes me wonder...” His voice trailed off.
“Makes me wonder, too. Did you see anyone with him?” she asked worriedly.
“No, just him.” He frowned. “Unles
s somebody else ran around the back of the house while I was chasing him. Dillon will find out the truth about who was outside and why.”
Was it possible a handful of high school kids were after her? Was it the result of some sort of a sick bet? Was there something going on at the school that she...that nobody knew about? The idea positively terrified her.
Clay paced the floor in front of her and suddenly she was thinking about those moments before she’d seen the face in the window...those moments when she had been in his arms and had been, oh, so willing.
She now knew what it was like to be kissed thoroughly, deeply by him. She now knew what his hands felt like on her skin. And she had been so fevered by his kisses and by his touch.
If she hadn’t seen the face in the window she wouldn’t have stopped Clay. She would have allowed him—no, she would have encouraged him to keep kissing her, to keep touching her and to make love with her.
And that would have been a huge mistake. If his kisses were anything to go by, then making love with him would be magical and unforgettable. Then she’d want to do it again and again. He would eventually break her heart.
She supposed she should thank Robby for interrupting what had been happening. Still, not only was she disturbed by Robby’s presence outside, she was also embarrassed that a student had seen her making out on her sofa like a horny teenager.
All thoughts of Clay and lovemaking flew out of her head when Dillon stepped back in the front door.
“Where’s Robby?” Clay asked.
“I let him go with a stern lecture,” Dillon replied. “I’ve really got nothing to charge him with except trespassing.”
“Maybe if you threw him in jail then the threats to Miranda would stop.” Clay sat down in the chair, obviously frustrated.
“I can’t keep him indefinitely in a jail cell on a maybe.”
“So, what was he doing here? Besides peeking in the window?” Clay asked.
“I think what we have here is a kid with a crush,” Dillon replied.
“A crush?” Miranda looked at Dillon in shocked surprise.
Dillon nodded. “It took a while to get it out of him, but he finally confessed that he was worried about you after the accident and wanted to check up on you. He also told me that he thought you were the prettiest woman in the entire town.”
“While I agree with his sentiments, I’m not sure I believe that’s all that’s going on with that kid,” Clay replied. “Did you ask him if anyone else was with him?”
“I did, and he told me he was alone. He didn’t want any of his friends to know that he was checking up on Miranda.” Dillon sighed. “Look, I don’t want to ruin a kid’s life if all he’s guilty of is having a crush on a pretty teacher and peeping in her window. On the other hand, I intend to put one of my deputies on him to watch what he does and where he goes for the next couple of days.”
“Thanks for coming out, Dillon,” she said. “It was frightening to see somebody peeking in the window.” A shiver threatened to work up her spine as she thought of that moment when she’d seen the face.
“I don’t think you have to worry about Robby showing up here again. I definitely put the fear of God into him.” Dillon looked at Clay. “Just to be on the safe side, do you want to do a quick check around the house to make sure nothing is amiss?”
“Let’s do it,” Clay replied. He looked at her. “I’ll lock the door behind us and knock when we’re finished.”
She had a sudden desire to get off the sofa and walk with them to the door. She had a desire to kiss Clay goodbye, as if she might not ever see him again. She quickly tamped it down and the men stepped outside.
She sat on the edge of the sofa to await Clay’s return. Her emotions were in such a tangled mess. She wanted to blame her concussion, but she knew that wasn’t the reason.
If the fact that she was a target for somebody’s hatred wasn’t enough, her feelings toward Clay had her brain completely muddled. Maybe it was still because of the brain shaking she’d gotten in the accident.
She almost dreaded Dillon leaving. When he was gone, she and Clay would be alone again and she didn’t want to talk about what had happened...what had been going to happen between them. To talk about it gave it substance and she just wanted to forget it had happened.
She heard a knock and carefully got up and walked slowly to the door to allow Clay back inside. Thank goodness her ankle was now healed enough to hold her weight, although it wasn’t a hundred percent back to normal.
“Thank God we didn’t find anything.” He re-locked the door.
She walked back to the sofa. “Good, then I think I’ll go ahead and get some sleep. I’m completely exhausted.” She intentionally didn’t meet his gaze. “And tonight I want to sleep in my own bed.”
“Are you sure you’re good to do the stairs?”
She finally looked at him. “My ankle is feeling much stronger, so the stairs shouldn’t be a problem.” With the drama over, all she felt was the need to escape from Clay.
“Okay, then I’ll call it a night, too.” He followed her up the stairs where she checked on Jenny and Henry. Thank goodness they were both still sound asleep and hadn’t been awakened by the commotion.
She then went to her bedroom doorway and turned back to face him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and she was so afraid he was going to say something about what had happened between them. She was so afraid he would try to kiss her again, and if he did, she’d be utterly lost.
“See you in the morning,” he finally said and headed back up the hallway to the room where he’d been staying. She sighed in relief and went to the dresser drawer that held her night clothing. She grabbed a fresh nightgown and went into the master bathroom.
She didn’t want to think about the fact that somebody obviously wanted her dead. She didn’t want to speculate on whether that person was Robby.
She also didn’t want to think about Clay, but thoughts of him filled her head as she changed her clothes and got ready for bed.
His childhood had sounded horrendous. She’d been so lucky in being raised by parents who loved her, parents who had made her feel special every single day of her life.
She couldn’t imagine the little boy Clay had been, a little boy who had constantly been told he was ugly and unwanted. What kind of people had raised him?
As he’d shared those things with her, her heart had cried. She’d wanted to find that little boy inside of him and pull him close to her heart. She’d wanted to tell him he was beautiful and had deserved to be loved.
Was it possible those experiences were what made him date so much? Was he somehow seeking the validation that he wasn’t ugly from all the women he went out with? It was certainly possible.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth and left the bathroom and got into her own bed for the first time since the accident. The mattress seemed to welcome her like an old friend as she relaxed into it.
She desperately wanted to fall asleep, to stop thinking, but her brain continued to work overtime. She thought of Clay playing Go Fish with her children, of how he listened with interest when they talked to him and displayed infinite patience. She knew both of her children positively adored him.
Visions of them all seated at the table and laughing together also cascaded through her head, visions of happiness...of family.
Finally warmth swept through her body as she remembered his kisses and what it had felt like to be held so tightly in his arms. She stared up at the darkened ceiling and a rush of emotion swept through her as she realized what was happening.
She was precariously close to falling completely and totally in love with Romeo Clay Madison.
Chapter 9
Saturday morning Hank arrived to pick up Henry and Jenny as usual. Lori came in with him, carrying another casserole. �
��It’s a chicken and rice dish that just needs to be warmed up.”
“Lori, you didn’t have to do that,” Miranda protested as Clay took the food from her. “I really am feeling a lot better now.”
“That’s good to hear,” Hank replied. “Your bruise across your forehead is almost gone.”
“Thank goodness,” Miranda replied. “And my ankle has healed up nicely.”
“We’ve been worried about you,” Lori said.
“I’ve been worrying myself sick about you,” Hank added. “I can’t believe somebody cut your brake lines.”
Clay carried the casserole into the kitchen and placed it in the refrigerator, then returned to the living room where the kids and the couple were ready to leave.
“You’ll let us know if Dillon finds out anything new?” Lori asked.
“I definitely want to know any news,” Hank added.
“You know I’ll keep you both updated,” Miranda replied.
When they were all gone, Clay and Miranda returned to the kitchen where they had been having coffee. “Flint should be arriving anytime,” he told her. As usual she looked good clad in a plain navy T-shirt and jeans. It didn’t matter what she wore, he always found her more than beautiful.
“Flint?” She looked at him curiously.
“Flint McCay. He’s one of my buddies from the ranch.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met him,” she replied.
“He’s a good guy,” Clay replied. “He’s our star rodeo cowboy. He rides bulls and he’s won a bunch of first-place medals.”
“I don’t think we have any bulls that need to be ridden,” she said with a sparkle of humor in her eyes. “He’s coming over for a visit?”
“Not really. He’s actually coming over to help me build you some new porch steps and railings today.”
“Oh, Clay, you don’t have to do that,” she protested.
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