Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger (7 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Westerns, #test

BOOK: Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger
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Page 52
Jason turned back toward the bank, his long strides moving rapidly away from Jessica. ''I'll be by around seven," he tossed indifferently over his shoulder as he crossed the street.
Indecision flickered lightly over her face, and then she rushed to catch up with his long, manly gait. "Jason, one more thing." She was nearly out of breath trying to match his pace. You would think he could be enough of a gentleman to at least slow down while she was talking to him, she fumedbut no, if anything, he only increased his strides. Moving faster, she finally caught up with him and, taking hold of his arm, jerked him to an abrupt stop. "Will Marcy be coming with you?" she blurted.
"Who?"
"Marcy. Marcy Evans."
His face had a blank expression. "Why in the hell would Marcy Evans be coming with me?" he asked in amazement.
"Well"Jessica shrugged"I just thought maybe you and she might be married by now . . ."
Jason threw his head back and laughed hilariously.
"Me and Marcy Mercy!"
"Marcy Mercy?" she answered with a frown of confusion on her face. She wasn't quite sure where this conversation had gone wrong.
"Yeah," he grinned, his strong white teeth flashing in his bronze face, "she married Willis Mercy. You surely remember him. His old man owns the bank."
"Marcy Evans
married
Willis 'Bo Bo' Mercy?" she shrieked in surprise. "My gosh! He's as dull as a brown shoe!"
Jessica could feel her heart lighten considerably. At least Jason hadn't married that redheaded witch!
"Sure, they got married several years ago," he said, beginning to laugh grudgingly now. "They've got two of the homeliest-looking kids you'd ever want to lay eyes on," he finished gleefully.
 
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Jessica fell back against the streetlight, holding her sides in laughter, tears running down her cheeks, at the picture of the elegant Marcy Evans being married to a clod like Willis Mercy.
''Ohhhh," she wailed, "that's priceless. Marcy Mercy! What a name for
her
to get stuck with!"
Jason's cool reserve finally broke as he found himself laughing as hard as she was, both of them in near hysteria.
Jason finally managed to regain some of his composure and was wiping his eyes on the arm of his blue shirt. His face wore a more tender expression as Jessica's laughter subsided. Soft violet eyes came slowly up to meet lazy green ones as he said in a gentle tone, "If you're asking me if I'm married, the answer is no. I'll be coming alone." He turned back in the direction of Jessica's truck and asked, "Do you think you can get that thing back home with no problems?"
"Oh, sure!" she cried exuberantly. "It isn't hurt at all!"
He shook his head and gave a mirthless laugh. "See you around seven then." He strode off in the direction of the bank.
"Sure, see you at seven," she whispered to herself as her eyes followed his strong, manly form down the street, "and at eight, and nine, and in all my dreams for as long as I can ever remember."
 
Page 54
Chapter Three
The old truck sped along home smoothly, as if in sincere repentance for its dastardly deeds of the afternoon.
Jessica made a hurried change into her cooler shorts and halter top, then flew around straightening the living room. It was a comfortable room with an Early American sofa and chair sitting before the large picture window, which flooded the plants Aunt Rainey had hung before it with sunlight. The maple end tables gleamed from the lemon furniture polish Jessica had just applied to them. A large bouquet of flowers, fresh from the yard, held the place of honor in the center of the large round glass coffee table in front of the sofa.
She moved on to the kitchen, feeding Tabby his dinner
 
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and making a light evening meal for herself. The clock on the mantel was just chiming five thirty when Jessica finished her chores. The insurance matter had been taken care of, and fortunately her policy did cover her when driving another vehicle. She had decided to have a quick shower and shampoo her hair before Jason arrived.
''Isn't this silly," she told Tabby. "You'd think I actually had a date with him!" She hastened to remind Tabby that this was just a business meeting, nothing personal on her or Jason's part. She simply had the disagreeable chore of asking him to run this farm until she could receive her inheritance; then he would be gone from her life once again.
Tabby seemed rather bored by the whole conversation, but he dutifully heard her out, watching with his large yellow eyes, his tail switching slowly as he lay on his perch on the top of the sofa.
Jessica ran up the stairs and into the bathroom just off the hall from her bedroom. She had her halter top halfway off when it occurred to her that she was out of shampoo. Drat! She had known this morning that she was out, but in all the confusion of the day it had slipped her mind completely. Well, no problem. She still had plenty of time before Jason was due. She'd just jump in the truck and run on down to the drugstore and be back in fifteen minutes.
"Surely not one more thing could go wrong today," she assured herself as she grabbed her purse and ran back down the stairs, calling to Tabby on the way out, "Hold the fort, I'll be right back!"
The heat was terrible. The old seat in the truck was so hot on the backs of her legs it had her doing an obscene dance trying to get the key turned on. The motor sprang into life instantly, and Jessica praised it lavishly for its cooperation. She found a parking space directly in front of the drugstore. Things were finally going her way.
Jumping out onto the hot sticky pavement, she walked to the glass door of the drugstore and pushed it open. The
 
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smell of all the medicinal jars and bottles reached her as the cool air of the store washed over her.
Her eyes found the shampoo display immediately. As she paused to study the numerous assorted bottles before her a multitude of TV shampoo commercials flooded her mind. Biting her lip pensively, Jessica struggled with the age-old problem. Did she want her hair shiny, swinging, sexy, full, or just plain clean? The image of a tall good-looking cowboy skipped lightly through her mind as she glanced around sheepishly, then grabbed for the ''sexy" brand. She hurriedly paid for her purchase and flew back out the front door.
She hopped back into the truck and turned the key once more. Nothing happened. The old gray relic just sat there mutely. "Oh, no! You can't do this to me," she threatened, jiggling the key insistently.
Apparently the truck did not respond to threats. It continued to ignore her. "You obstinant
jackass!
" Jessica moaned as she buried her hot, flushed face in her hands. Now what was she going to do?
Jerking the door handle back open, she got out of the truck, marched around to the hood, jerked it open angrily, and stood staring helplessly into the yawning chasm of wires, gadgets and doodads. Everything in the engine looked like it needed to be replaced. Well, she was no mechanic, of that she was absolutely sure. She jiggled a few wires, not having the least idea what their function was. She hopped back into the truck, praying for a miracle, and turned the ignition switch once more.
Rebellious silence from the old truck.
Jessica's temper was registering a 9.9 on the Richter scale as she stormed back out of the truck, her eyes catching a glimpse of a large wrench lying in the bed of the old truck. She grabbed it up and defiantly stomped to the motor again with a viscious glint in her dark-purple eyes as she began to bang on everything in sight. She leaned over into the motor, halfway burying herself in the engine,
 
Page 57
whacking unmercifully at the contents. The attendant at a nearby service station paused momentarily from wiping the windshield of a car to gape at the shapely set of legs and rounded derriere protruding from the hood of the old truck.
By now the sweat was literally pouring off of Jessica, who was growing madder by the moment. Giving one last vigorous whack to the battery, she straightened back up, her eyes disgustedly surveying the scene before her. Wiping her greasy hands on the bottom of her shorts, she climbed back in the truck, her eyes grimly warning the crass vehicle her patience had run out.
She turned the key once again, and the old engine purred sweetly to life. Jessica closed her eyes and slumped wearily over the steering wheel. This truck was going to be the death of her yet.
She got back out one final time to slam down the old hood, which took three tries, naturally, before she was able to get the lock to catch.
She jumped back into the truck and ground the gears into first, causing everyone on the sidewalk to grit their teeth at the grating, tearing sound coming from the old truck. She pulled out onto the main street, gunning the old truck for home, glancing nervously at her watch. She only had thirty minutes before Jason arrived, and she still had to take a shower. She felt as though she had worked on a chain gang this afternoon. Oh, well, she'd hurry.
The last stoplight caught her at the end of town. She sat tapping her nails on the steering wheel waiting for the green light. When the signal changed, she peeled out and was fairly flying along the road leading to the farmhouse. She eased up on the gas pedal, thinking the last thing she needed today was a speeding ticket. She was not too surprised to notice that the truck continued on at the same speed.
Here we go again,
she thought.
She was stomping her foot on the pedal, trying to un-
 
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stick it, as the driveway to Aunt Rainey's came into view. Jessica put her foot on the brake pedal hard, at the same time trying to negotiate the turn into the drive at breakneck speed. Aunt Rainey's few remaining chickens set up a terrible squawking, their feathers flying as they valiantly tried to fight their way out of the path of the careening truck.
Jessica shot into the farmyard at the speed of a bullet, her violet eyes widened in astonishment as she saw the long gray Lincoln Continental sitting in the drive. The thought barely had time to register in her mind before the truck came to a grinding halt, embedded in the Continental's rear end. The melodious tinkle of the lenses falling from the Lincoln's taillights was the only sound that could be heard as the old engine died a sputtering death.
The tall man standing on the old porch, about to knock on the door, spun around at the sound of all the confusion. A look of sheer incredulity crossed his face as he walked slowly down the steps, toward Jessica's side of the truck. He looked at the back of his beautiful car with a stunned expression and then turned back to face her.
Jessica looked up and in a very small, defensive voice complained, ''You're early."
Still not taking his eyes from Jessica, he leaned casually back against the remains of his bumper, reaching in his shirt pocket for one of his small cheroots. He placed it in his mouth and, holding it in his strong, even teeth, lit it slowly.
Jessica was holding her breath, afraid to move.
He exhaled slowly and in a calm voice asked, "Jessica, would you mind letting me know when you're going to be out on the streets from now on?"
"Oh, Jason!" She let her breath out in a quick spurt. "It's that damn gas pedal again."
Jason shoved himself away from the truck and, showing the first signs of real anger that day, let out an expletive that would have made a sailor blush.
 
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The tips of Jessica's ears turned fiery red. Suddenly it was just too much for her to contend with. Her violet eyes became pools of shimmering water. Her slight shoulders began to shake as she buried her face in her hands and bawled like a baby.
''Oh, hell," he muttered, opening the truck door. She became aware of a set of strong, muscular arms wrapping around her, lifting her out of the truck, drawing her against his hard, solid chest.
He smells so good,
she thought as the clean fragrance of soap and his aftershave drifted to her nostrils. She sobbed even harder.
"Oh, come on now, Angel," he consoled her, stroking the hot, sticky hair away from her forehead, "it can't be that bad."
"But it is, Jason. It is," she cried. "You can't begin to imagine what a nightmare this day has been!" Hot, salty tears were running in streams down her lovely face.
Jason laughed a mirthless laugh. "I think I can," he said sympathetically. "Mine hasn't been what you'd call a red letter day either." His eyes took in his wrecked car.
"Oh, I know, and I'm so sorry about your truckand now your car. Then there was that ridiculous will." She sniffled loudly. "And then thisthisdespicable piece of junk," she exclaimed as her foot shot out kicking the truck that was meekly sitting quiet now on its tires, "has done nothing but torment me all day!" She turned back to the haven of his arms, dissolving in a new round of fresh tears.
"Well, it could be worse," he said with not much conviction. "I don't think the car has quite as much damage as the truck."
"Really?" Her spirits lifted slightly.
Leaving the security of his arms for a moment, she looked up at him in earnest. "My insurance does cover me," she cried jubilantly, trying to improve his day.
A hint of amusement was in his eyes as he answered, "What do you say, let's go in now and wash that pretty face of yours. After that you can fix me a big glass of

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