by Becky McGraw
It was an ideal solution. Leigh Ann planned on talking to him tonight about her idea. She couldn't think of any reason he wouldn't love it.
Excitement filled her as she got out of the now cool tub and yanked a fluffy towel from the towel bar to wrap it around herself. Wes would be home any time, so she had to hurry. Supper would be the perfect time to bring it up.
If one good thing had come of this whole situation, she had gotten to spend more time with Wes, and he had gotten to know her. The more she knew of Wesley Jepson though, the more she loved him. And he still didn't feel the same way about her. He was a lot nicer to her, treated her like he cared about her, but it was friendly. He hadn't even tried to kiss her again, since they'd been back at the house.
Leigh Ann had given up hope that he would change his mind, and accepted the friendship he offered. Although Leigh Ann appreciated Wes's apologies about misjudging her, and his gratitude for what she had done at his office to help him, she had hoped for more. His version of friendship seemed to be a helluva lot better than the wooing her four fiancés had used to try and win her over though.
The man hadn't bought her expensive gifts or taken her to fancy restaurants, but last night when he came home, he had brought her a bundle of yellow daisies mixed with honeysuckles from near his fence line. Wes had personally picked them for her. Her heart had swelled so big in her chest it hurt. It was all she could do not to burst out in tears when he gave them to her. Wes had done a lot of sweet things for her, like the flowers, cooking her dinner, playing Scrabble with her at night, but he kept his distance. It was like he wanted to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea.
That was something he didn't need to worry about. Leigh Ann got it. The messages he sent were being received loud and clear. He wanted them to be friends, but nothing more. She didn't like it, she was frustrated, but if friendship was the best she could get from him, that would just have to do. What choice did she have? She couldn't make someone want to be with her, and she couldn't make them love her.
But when she left here, Leigh Ann would be leaving her heart behind. All of it, every single piece of it. She was not looking forward to that day, but knew it was coming soon. Wes and Trey would live here alone. She would be at the R & R Ranch as their new image consultant. She would only see him when he made vet calls at the ranch, and maybe not even then. There was no way she could come back out here to see him.
It would be too hard.
"Baby, you up there?" Wes yelled from downstairs. Leigh Ann hurried into the bedroom, then put on the dress she had laid out on the bed to wear tonight. It felt darned good to have her clothes back again. Wes had her car towed to the house, and he had brought in her suitcases.
Leigh Ann walked to the door and opened it. "I'll be down in a second," she yelled then shut it again to strap on the high-heeled gold sandals that went with her dress. Hurrying to the mirror above the dresser, she clipped her hair up on top of her head. The ends were still wet, so it looked kind of limp, but she wasn't going to stop to dry it.
Wes was home. Excitement shot through her, and anticipation too. She had cooked spaghetti for them earlier and had it on simmer on the stove. He would be surprised, because culinary skills were not her strong suit. The last time she had tried to cook for him, she had almost burned down his house. But anybody could brown ground meat and throw in a jar of store-bought sauce though.
She hadn't burned the noodles she cooked to go with it either. Only because she had stood there and watched them boil. It seemed to take forever, but the pasta was perfect by the time she poured it into the colander in the sink. Or at least she thought it was perfect. She had used her mother's old trick of sticking a noodle to the ceiling to test it. The noodle had stuck, so she figured it was done.
All she could hope was that her mother hadn't just been joking when she did that. Trudy Baker did tend to drink while she cooked, so it could have been that too.
Leigh Ann hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall. At the top of the stairs, she took a deep breath, adjusted her breasts so the yellow dress fit her right, then went slowly down the stairs. When she reached the foot of the stairs, she saw Wes standing at the stove, stirring the sauce. She walked toward him, but stopped to hold her breath as he stuck the wooden spoon in the pot then brought it to his lips.
"Damn, baby, this is delicious," he murmured in appreciation. Leigh Ann's heart started beating again and she walked into the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear.
"Give it a few minutes to soak into your taste buds," she said with a chuckle. "You know I can't cook."
He turned toward her and his eyes widened then slowly traveled down her body to her toes. His hazel eyes darkened, and he cleared his throat then turned toward the sink.
"Oh, noodles too..." he said and picked one up from the colander. She was shocked when he threw it up toward the ceiling and even more surprised when his stuck there beside hers. He stared at them stuck up there and she walked up beside him.
"So it wasn't because mama was drunk," she muttered.
"Huh?" Wes asked with a laugh.
"My mama did that too, and I wasn't sure it was because she usually drank while she cooked, or if she had been playing some kind of joke."
"I don't think your mama has a sense of humor, but the drinking could explain a lot of things," he said and she felt his eyes on her face.
Leigh Ann's eyes met his, and she could swear the temperature in the room rose twenty degrees. She knew her temperature did. Her heart fluttered in her chest and his eyes darkened to mossy green pools.
Wes groaned then asked in a dark, tortured voice, "God, baby how the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off of you when you dress like that?"
"Who said you had to?" Leigh Asked quietly, her heart fluttering in her chest.
"I didn't want to pressure you," Wes admitted standing stock still with his hands at his sides. "You have enough on your plate right now."
Surprise shot through her, followed by relief, then anger. "You don't think having to pretend I'm okay with just being your friend isn't stressful?"
He put his hands on her shoulders. "I have been keeping my distance, so you could deal with the mess you're in right now."
"I'd deal with it better if you would kiss me," she invited boldly, taking a step closer to him. He slid his hands down to her hips to pull her closer, and the air charged between them, as Wes lowered his head. Leigh Ann slid her hands up his chest and held her breath until his lips touched hers.
He tasted like what she'd like to have for dessert, dark and sinful, something decadent she was definitely going to indulge in. Leigh Ann opened her mouth and his tongue met hers to deepen the kiss. He kissed her for endless minutes, just kissed her. Wes Jepson's kisses were as good as sex with other men, and definitely got her ready for the main menu.
By the time he pulled back, Leigh Ann was breathing hard, and more than ready to skip dinner. Slipping her hand down between them, she stroked him through his jeans. "I need you, Wes," she whispered, leaning up to kiss his throat, then under his jaw.
Wes groaned, then pushed her back to arm's length. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. Leigh Ann could see the pulse pounding at his throat, as he said, "Leigh Ann...I lov--" His voice cut out, his eyes teared up and he swallowed hard.
Leigh Ann just stood there looking into his eyes, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. The man looked like he was about to choke, and his handsome face had a greenish cast to it. She hoped like hell it wasn't her spaghetti sauce.
"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.
Wes released her shoulders and took a step back. "Yeah, but I'd l-love a shower, and then we need to eat." His voice almost sounded relieved. Wes turned and walked toward the stairs, and Leigh Ann leaned against the counter, and crossed her arms over her chest.
So much for that.
With a sigh, she said, "Okay, I'll fix our plates, while you shower."
At the stairs, he stop
ped for a second, his mouth worked a few times but he didn't say anything, until he finally said, "I'll be right back, don't let anything get cold."
The food would keep, and so would Leigh Ann, she guessed. She didn't have much choice in the matter. Wes was acting really strange, like she had put him on the spot coming on to him a moment ago. Maybe she had, but he seemed like he was on board with it.
Leigh Ann pushed off the counter, then busied herself making plates for them. After putting them on the table, she made glasses of sweet tea and put them beside the plates. Just as she placed forks beside their plates, Wes jogged down the stairs and over to the dining room.
"Thank you for cooking, sweetheart," he said and pulled her into his arms for a hot kiss that settled her mind a little. When he released her, he added with a chuckle, "And thanks for all you've been doing around here too. I appreciate it, but it takes some getting used to. We were slobs before you moved in."
And we'll be comfortable slobs again when you leave. The thought floated through her mind, leaving sadness there in its wake. "I'm happy to do it. You're doing me a favor letting me stay here. I know you miss Trey...I do too."
"I go to my mother's house and spend time with him every day." Wes sat down at the table and pulled a paper towel off the roll to put it in his lap. "This will be over soon, so he can come home."
And so I can leave. Jesus, she was being morose now. She was having dinner with Wes, wanted to tell him about her idea and she needed to stop the pity party that was trying to take root inside of her.
Pasting on a smile, Leigh Ann sat down, and put a napkin in her lap too. "I have an idea to talk to you about..." she said nervously, taking a sip of her tea.
Wes dug into his spaghetti, and had his mouth full, so she proceeded to outline her idea to him. She could tell Wes was listening intently, but he didn't interrupt her, until he finished the whole plate and sat back with a sigh. "That was spectacular," he told her.
"The food or the idea?" she asked with a short laugh, before she finally took a bite of her food.
"Both...you are one smart woman, Leigh Ann Baker," he said and pleasure shot through her. "I think that your idea could work, but it sounds like a full-time job for someone. Are you thinking about staying with me, instead of taking that job at the R & R?" he asked hopefully.
Staying with him? Did he mean staying at his home with him and Trey? Or just staying with him in the office? With the right words from him, she would gladly do both. Because he said instead of the job at the R & R, he must mean the office. Disappointment filled her but she shoved it away. She couldn't stay, Terri was counting on her.
"I thought maybe I could help set it up, and your new assistant could manage it."
The door bell rang and both of them looked at the front door, then back at each other with raised brows. It was after hours and the FBI agents posted at the front of the driveway, never let people inside the property after dark.
Wes shoved back his chair and walked to the door. On the way, he picked up the shotgun he had propped on the wall beside the table in the hall. It had become a fixture there and Leigh Ann had forgotten it was there. Wes evidently remembered, but this is the first time he had picked it up, since she'd been there. He looked through the peephole in the front door and she saw his shoulders tense.
Heart racing, Leigh Ann got to her feet, and crept behind the dining room wall to hide. Instead of a shotgun blast though, she heard the door open and peered around the corner. Flanked by one of the FBI agents, her mother stood on the doorstep looking haggard and upset. Trudy Baker didn't get upset, she hadn't even cried at Leigh Ann's daddy's funeral. To see her crying now told Leigh Ann that something bad had happened. She hoped her sister was okay. Her heart in her throat, Leigh Ann darted around the corner.
"Mama, what's wrong?"
Her mother didn't wait to be invited in, she pushed past Wes and met Leigh Ann in the foyer. "I need to talk to you now."
There was a note of desperation in her always-in-control mother's voice that scared the hell out of her. "What's wrong?"
"I need to talk to you privately," she stressed with a glance over her shoulder at Wes and the FBI agent who was still standing on the porch.
"Come upstairs to my room," Leigh Ann offered walking toward the stairs.
Her mother followed her inside the room, and Leigh Ann shut the door. "What's wrong, mama?" she asked for the third time.
Trudy wrung her hands in front of her, and gnawed her lip. "I need your help, baby."
"You know I'll help you however I can, mama. You've done a lot for me." It was true, her mother had given her everything she had denied her sister. Leigh Ann had gotten new clothes, trips around the country for pageants, and most of their mother's time. Trudy Baker had given her everything, except unconditional love. She expected Leigh Ann to be perfect, demanded it.
Trudy had been hard on her, and Leigh Ann was probably stronger because of it, but she was weaker too. She could not say no to anyone who needed help. Leigh Ann was sure this instance wouldn't be any different, especially since it was her mother asking. God, she hoped it wasn't bad. "What do you need, mama?"
"I need you to marry Lester Fallon."
Heavy silence hung in the air, and Leigh Ann couldn't get her breath. Her chest constricted, and she felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. She finally managed to get half a breath, and with a wheeze repeated, "Marry Lester Fallon?"
"Yes, Leigh Ann. You agreed to marry him, the wedding is in three days, and I need you to go through with it."
"No," she said flatly. "I told you I'm not marrying Lester. I don't love him, and I can't marry him." Anger shoved blood into her lungs, so she could breath again. Now, her breath was coming in fast spurts with the pounding of her blood through her veins. Leigh Ann began pacing at the end of the bed.
"Please, darling. If you don't marry him, I'm ruined."
Turning to face her mother, Leigh Ann shouted, "If I marry him, I'll be ruined!"
"You can divorce him before the ink dries, it won't matter," Her mother pleaded.
"Why do you want me to marry him so much, mama? You weren't like this with the other men you tried to make me marry!"
"Lester loaned me money to open the pageant coaching business. I sunk every last dime I had left into the business too. If you marry him, he's giving me the note as a wedding gift. If you don't marry him, he's calling it due immediately. I'll be destitute, Leigh Ann."
"Surely he's not like that, mama. You can talk to him and work out a payment plan or something."
Her mother grabbed her shoulders and her eyes glittered. "He is exactly like that, Leigh Ann. You don't know him."
"And that's exactly why I shouldn't marry him...you shouldn't expect me to." Leigh Ann's voice had lost it's oomph, so her statement came out flat.
Her mother wasn't listening anyway. She never listened. She had made up her mind the only way to solve her dilemma was to get Leigh Ann to marry Lester. No amount of talking was going to change her mind.
"He is the last man I would want you to marry, Leigh Ann. I don't have a choice now, though. You have to understand," her mother begged. "Please, help me..."
Leigh Ann was too stunned to answer, so she just stood there staring at her mother.
"You have the dress, the invitations are out, the announcements have been made. It's a simple solution, baby. Just marry him, I'll get the note from him, then you can get a divorce. I'll help you."
Wes watched Leigh Ann come back down the stairs with her mother, and her face was pale and sullen. He wondered what Trudy Baker had done to make her that way. He would kick the woman out personally if she had hurt Leigh Ann. Wes could do that even though Leigh Ann didn't seem to be able to.
"Leigh Ann, are you okay?" Wes asked gruffly as he met her at the foot of the stairs.
"No, I'm not okay, but I will be. I'm sorry, Wes, but I have to leave. I'm marrying Lester Fallon on Saturday, and I have to go with my mother."
"What!?!?" Wes roared and grabbed her shoulders. She flinched and he realized he was gripping her too tightly and let go. "What the hell do you mean, Leigh Ann?"
Her lower lip trembled, and her face got even paler if that was possible. "I have to marry Lester on Saturday, Wes," she said again, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry....thank you for everything." Leigh Ann ran to the front door and threw it open, then ran out onto the porch, and he could hear her sob from where he stood.
Wes looked back at Trudy Baker who held onto the banister for support. She looked as weak and downtrodden as Leigh Ann did. But he didn't care, because this was one woman who deserved what she got in life. Karma was a bitch, and if it was biting her in the ass, then hoorah for Karma.
"What did you say to her?" Wes growled, spearing her with his eyes.
"I'll send someone to pick up her things after the honeymoon," Trudy Baker told him without an iota of explanation. Like a queen, the woman breezed past him, and he grabbed her shoulder. After the honeymoon. The thought of the old bastard touching Leigh Ann enraged Wes and made the food in his stomach dance.
Wes leaned close to her ear and hissed, "Tell me what the fuck you did to her."
"Leigh Ann is fulfilling her obligations. She agreed to marry Lester Fallon and she's doing that," Trudy replied and jerked her arm from his grasp. "Just stay out of it."
Trudy Baker walked through the front door, took Leigh Ann's arm in her grasp then led her down the steps to the Mercedes waiting in front of the house. Before Wes could make his feet move to stagger outside, the car was pulling down the driveway.
Wes went back inside and slammed the door so hard the picture beside the door fell off the wall and shattered on the floor. That could be his heart laying in pieces on the cold hard tile. That is what Leigh Ann had just done to him.
Laura leaving him like she had hurt him. What he felt now went so deep, Wes wasn't sure he would ever recover from it. Misery built into a roar in his throat and he dropped to his knees mindless of the glass shards that pricked his skin through his jeans and gave it free rein. His eyes burned, his stomach burned and it felt like his head was going to explode any minute. The love of his life hadn't just left him, she was marrying somebody else on Saturday. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Because he didn't have the balls to tell her how he felt about her when he had the chance.