Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set

  Of course, he wouldn’t be sharing accommodations with Lillian, either. She was weakening. Well, yeah, she was pretty teed off right now, but she’d get over it. Women always did. And when women got over being mad, they always wanted to show how sorry they were.

  He’d stall her off until tonight when they climbed back into that sleeping bag together and let her make it up to him then.

  He stood up and headed for the picnic table, stepping over the skillet on his way. Studying the plastic food box, he pulled out a package of beef jerky and grabbed two cups from the box of supplies. Strolling back over to his chair, he said, “Coffee should be done” and tossed one of them in Lillian’s direction.

  He doubled the tail of his tee in his and grabbed the coffee pot handle. He poured a stream of the dark, fragrant liquid into his cup and held the pot toward Lillian.

  “Want some?”

  “I’ll get my own,” she snapped. “I’d hate to put you out.”

  Wes shrugged. “Have it your way.”

  Settling back in the chair, he ripped open the package of beef jerky and set it on the chair arm. He sniffed the coffee appreciatively. Nothing like fresh-brewed coffee to build up an appetite. Inhaling deeply, he took his first sip.

  He choked and fought back the urge to spit it back out. He’d had a lot of coffee in his life, but this was the worst. It was bitter and crunchy. He stared down into the cup. Even through the dark murkiness, he could see a half-inch of coffee grounds lying there, just taking up space.

  He felt, rather than saw, Lillian’s eyes on him and knew this was the moment where he’d either take control of their tenuous relationship or lose it entirely. Preparing for the inevitable, he took a deep drink from the cup and forced himself to swallow.

  “Oh, man.” He settled back in the chair, praying it wouldn’t take long for the bitter aftertaste to go away. “There’s nothing like java made over the open fire.”

  Forcing himself to take another swallow, he watched Lillian’s face change from anger to desire. It would be nice if that longing was for him, but he knew all she was craving was her morning cup of coffee. He didn’t think he could stand any more, though, so he set the cup on the ground and turned his attention to the beef jerky, hoping she’d think he was starving.

  Two chews into the jerky, he realized he should have looked at the package label a little closer. The innocuous-looking strip had something in that was sending his taste buds into a full rebellion. Something spicy. But not good spicy. Evil spicy like his Aunt Lucille’s attempts at international cuisine.

  He turned the label over and read it as discreetly as possible, aware Lillian was watching his every move. There in tiny letters below the product logo were the words “jalapeno flavored.” The offending flavor burst into full blossom on his tongue. He threw the strip into the fire and grabbed his coffee cup. He swigged the coffee down without thinking and gagged at the combination of the burning jalapeno flavor and the gritty coffee grounds.

  “Enjoying your breakfast?” Lillian taunted him as he swung his cup and coffee arced to the ground.

  Wes was up and out of his chair in an instant. He’d already put up with a lot from this woman, starting with the whopping big lie that had tricked him into posing as her one-and-only. But he’d be damned if she was going to talk to him in that condescending tone.

  “At least I’m trying to make the best of a bad deal,” he growled. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got on that plane, and your talent in that respect is growing every minute. I think we both know why you had to pay someone to pretend to be your husband. No man with the slightest bit of self-respect would put up with your mouth or your attitude.”

  He shut up and waited for the fireworks. Instead, Lillian stared at him through eyes glazing over with tears. The white-hot anger that had fueled his outburst began to ebb away, an overwhelming need to take her in his arms and make her feel better taking its place. He curled his hands into fists and willed himself to ignore her. It was just a ploy, one more trick from her arsenal. Hadn’t she fooled him over and over again since they met?

  She sobbed then, a small hiccupping sound, and the tears began to stream down her face and plop damply onto the T-shirt. She sank down into a heap on the ground and buried her face in her hands.

  Wes closed the distance between them with a few short strides. Bending down, he said, “Hey, Lil, you stop that now. I didn’t mean it. I was just letting off steam.”

  “But you were right!” Lillian wailed as he pulled her into his arms. “I can’t cook, and I’m a lousy housekeeper and every houseplant I’ve ever had has died from neglect. I’m not even going to be able to keep my business if Frank doesn’t give me that contract. I can’t do anything right!”

  “That’s not true.” Wes tipped her face to his. “You can do this. Very well.”

  He kissed her, pulling her down on the ground beneath him. Her lips against his were salty from her tears, and he could still feel the tension in her muscles as he wrapped his hands around her narrow back to bring her closer. That same electric attraction was there, just as it had been when he’d kissed her on the plane, and he knew she felt it, too. She strained against him, losing herself in the deep kiss, slipping her bare leg between his jeans-clad thighs. The kiss might have lasted forever if Lillian hadn’t let loose with a sound that was more a yelp of distress than a moan of desire. She wiggled frantically beneath Wes, who quickly got to his feet and reached out to help her up.

  “It’s on my butt!” Lillian slapped her rear end and shook out the shorts, wiggling from one foot to another. Wes would have offered to help, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what she was talking about. Whatever she was looking for, it had to be mighty tiny.

  “Get out of there!” Lillian muttered, shoving her hand down the back of the too-large shorts and scrubbing frantically at her fanny. Apparently, whatever it was got away, Wes decided, because she calmed down. She was scratching her rear end like a dog with fleas, but she was wasn’t yelping and twitching anymore.

  “You okay now?” he asked with caution, not sure he wanted to know what her problem had been.

  Lillian stumbled over to the picnic table and sat on a bench with a thump. “I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what?” Wes cocked his head and studied her. She looked right on the edge of cracking, poor thing.

  “Can’t do…this.” She waved at the scene around her. “Go camping. Live like this. Eat whatever bizarre foods you keep finding. I want to check my e-mail. Call the office. I want a nice hot bath in a real bathtub, with bubble bath and music.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “Is that so much to ask, Wes? All I want are a few creature comforts, like a real bed and cappuccino. Everyone else gets them, so why can’t I have them, too?”

  Wes stared, at a total loss about what to do. He’d used the only way he knew to handle distraught women, but it sure as hell wouldn’t work again. He was pretty sure she wasn’t in a mood to make out any more.

  A sudden thought struck him, one of the few inspirations he’d had in his lifetime.

  “There are plug-ins in the bath house.” He put her at arm’s length and stared into her tear-stained face. “At least in the men’s. Right beside the sink. I’ll bet they have one in the women’s side, too, for hair dryers and stuff. You could plug your phone in there and check your whatever.”

  She shook her head. “Not without Wi-Fi.”

  Wes thought hard and fast. “The ranger station! We can go down there. I’ll bet they’ve got Internet. All you have to do is stick out your chest and bat your eyelashes, and the ranger will let you take over his space for a while, I bet.”

  He braced himself when he realized what he’d implied. Lillian wasn’t the kind of woman who liked being reminded that her physical attributes could be a great asset. That had been plain right off. He knew she was at the breaking point when her eyes widened and she said, “Do you really think they have a connection at the r
anger station?”

  “I’m sure of it.” He grabbed her shoulders and started her toward the picnic table. “You take whatever you need, and we’ll walk down there right now. I’ll make myself scarce while you tend to business. How’s that sound, babe?”

  “I really need to check my e-mail.” The wistfulness in her voice almost broke his heart. He knew how she felt. He’d give anything to be sitting in that corner booth at Smokey’s, watching the game on TV and shooting the breeze with Bobby.

  Apparently the ranger understood, too, because as Wes walked away a few minute later, Lillian had already plugged her adapter into the socket by the registration desk and logged on. Wes didn’t figure the ranger, even though he seemed like a nice guy, would let her stay on too long. As soon as the novelty of a desperate camper pleading to check her e-mail wore off, Lillian would be sent back to their tent.

  He smiled. By then, she’d be over the funk she’d fallen into. Culture shock. That was all that was wrong with her. She spent way too much time working and not enough time enjoying life. But that was about to change.

  Lillian had been running hot and cold since he’d met her, but he had her number. Underneath that businesslike exterior was a woman in need of a man, whether she knew it or not. She just hadn’t met the right one yet.

  He smiled.

  Or maybe she had. That plea for rescue in the tent this morning…if that wasn’t a cry for attention, he didn’t know what was. All he had to do to seal up this particular deal was pay a little attention to her. Give her a shoulder to cry on, hold her hand and let her whine. That would do the trick. There was a reason his buddies turned to him when they had woman trouble. If there was a man alive who knew women, it was Weston Alexander Hatfield.

  Without realizing it, he’d followed the trail out of the state park acreage and onto private land. He saw houses up ahead and decided to walk a little further on. Maybe there was a gas station there, or even one of those little country stores where he could get a steak to grill for dinner or maybe luck out and find a six-pack of beer, too.

  A half-hour later, he headed back to the campground with a paper bag in his hands, but it wasn’t from a convenience store or grocery. What he’d found was a yard sale that took up the whole front yard and part of the driveway at a dilapidated house with a brand-new house trailer out back. But that had been good enough. What he had in this bag was better than a steak or a longneck of Milwaukee’s best. A lot better.

  The sun was blazing high in the sky as Lillian walked back to their campsite, her spirits buoyed by that little bit of civilization she’d been treated to. She’d opened every e-mail in her mailbox, even the ones offering Viagra on-line and ways to make $5,000 a week legally. Many of them she’d forwarded to her assistant to take care of, and replied to the others as quickly and briefly as she could. The ranger had left her alone while he went on his midday drive around the park, but she knew her time was limited.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her what pathetic choices awaited her in the food box Frank had provided. Incredible as it was, even potted meat was beginning to sound good now. She hitched up her borrowed cut-offs and walked faster.

  She found Wes back at the campsite, stirring a pot of something over the fire. When he called out, “Come smell the stew,” she stepped up her pace even more. Leaning over the pot, she inhaled deeply.

  “I’m in heaven.” A smile danced on her lips as she leaned over to kiss Wes on the cheek. “And you’re my angel.”

  “That’s one thing I’ve never been called.” He filled a plastic bowl, stuck a spoon in and handed it to her. She took a bite without inspecting the food. Hungry enough to think about trying potted meat, she wasn’t about to turn up her nose at anything else.

  She was at the table within seconds, ignoring Wes as he added wood to the fire. A girl had to have her priorities, and right now, filling the hole in her middle was at the very top of her list.

  Wes took a seat across from her with his own bowl, handing her a handful of the crackers he found in their food box. Lillian took them and kept eating. So the stew was canned and crackers unsalted. She’d had meals in five-star restaurants that hadn’t tasted half this good then as this did now.

  “It’s supposed to warm up today.” Wes cocked his head and watched her chew.

  Lillian nodded. She wasn’t going to quit eating for the sake of inane conversation.

  “So I’ll need those shorts back.”

  Lillian’s eyes widened and she chewed harder. No way could he expect her to rough it in her few clothes she’d brought. Before she could swallow and tell him so, he said, “Don’t worry. I picked up a few things for you on my walk. I had to guess your size, but I think they’re pretty close.”

  He tossed the well-filled large bag onto the table between them. Lillian could tell he was pleased with himself, and she was content to let him take that satisfaction. She hadn’t run across too many men who would voluntarily go clothes shopping for a woman they were close to, let alone one they hardly knew.

  Before she had time to thank him, he’d picked up his bowl and gone back over to his chair by the fire. She grabbed the sack and headed for the bathhouse, calling out as she went, “I’ll be back with your clothes in a little bit.”

  Her spirits lifting even more, she began to hum, not caring if it was off-key. Things were definitely looking up. She’d had food at last, she finally had clothes of her own and with any luck, Frank would be back this afternoon to tell it was all a big joke. Like a fraternity hazing, some kind of rite of passage for his marketing associates.

  Yep, she’d hit bottom and was headed up. She was sure of it. As sure as she was that when she finally had the chance to slip back into her suit and dazzle Frank with her presentation, Osborne, Mills and Hawley would be playing with the big boys at last.

  Chapter Five

  Wes couldn’t wait to see Lillian’s face after she tried on the clothes he’d bought her. Considering he’d been at a garage sale, the selection had been small but he’d picked out every piece with their environment in mind. Those suits of hers might play well in the executive office but she sure needed something different out here.

  Once he was sure the fire was blazing enough to stay burning until he got back, he headed down the drive. When the first couple at the first camper he passed waved their hands in hello, he strolled over to introduce himself.

  “So you’re new at this, huh?”

  The man asked with curiosity, not derision. Wes confessed his total ignorance and was soon being schooled in the intricacies of surviving life in this particular park.

  “Care for a sandwich?” The young woman offered Wes a grilled cheese from the iron griddle set on their fire pit’s grill.

  “Love one,” he said. The stew had been okay but it hadn’t come close to filling him up.

  “A beer to go with it?” came the offer from his new buddy.

  The amber liquid was cold as he poured it down his throat. Wes drank slowly but not so slow that the beer inside the can would get too warm. He’d perfected that particular art.

  By the time he made his leave ten minutes later, he’d learned that if he paid at the ranger station, the guy who provided the wood would drop a bundle off at his campsite. He thanked his new acquaintances for the information and moved on.

  His arrival at the bathhouse was delayed by two more stops. Folks here were friendly and wanted to chat. They also wanted to take pity on the poor city slicker who was so unprepared. By the time he finally made it to his destination, he had a plastic mosquito repellent bracelet in his pocket and a couple small tubes of instant coffee. Each had enough to make one cup, and he had no intention of sharing them.

  Lillian was just emerging when he walked up to the cement block structure. The gratitude he’d expected to see on her face was missing. Her expression was more one of dismay. Or resignation with a little bit of irritation.

  “Please tell me this is not your idea of a joke.” Lillian demanded, spreading he
r arms wide and turning in a big circle. “If it is, I’m not laughing.”

  “Damn, honey, you look good.” Wes gave a low whistle. “Seriously. Look up ‘hot’ in the dictionary, and there you are.”

  “Try ‘foolish.’ I saw myself in the mirror.”

  Wes stared in disbelief. How could she not know how good she looked? Sure, the outfit might be a bit on the bright side, but it wasn’t as if he’d had a million choices. The selection had been pretty slim pickings in a size as small as hers.

  “You look great,” he said again. “Back home, you’d be beating men off with a stick.”

  “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a get-up like this back home unless it was Halloween,” she hissed. “Look again and tell me what you honestly think.”

  Wes studied her. The leggings fit snugly on her trim frame, their pink-and-black tiger stripes a perfect match for the cropped tee she wore with them. Hot pink with black letters that declared “Princess,” the shirt clung where it was supposed to on her well-rounded bosom. His eyes moved down to the well-used hiking boots on her feet, which seemed to fit well enough, considering he’d had to guess what shoe size she wore. He’d been darn lucky to find them, but she wasn’t as pleased as he’d expected.

  “I’m telling you, you look seriously good,” he insisted, his eyes tracing her curves again.

  “What I look is seriously tacky.” She stalked past him to a stand of trees. “I’m not going back to our lot until you get that stupid tent put back up, and then I’m staying in there until Frank comes and takes me out of this hell.”

  Wes leaned against a tree trunk and attempted to console her. “Look, maybe pink’s not your thing. That’s okay. But you’re not going to stick out any more in those clothes than you did in one of those old lady suits you’re so damned fond of. You’ve got a fine body. You ought to quit acting like you’re ashamed of it.”