Tempting Meredith (12 page)

Chapter Ten

When Charlie opened her car door, guilt swept over Meredith like a west Texas dust storm. He looked so happy and expectant, while she just wanted to escape the crushing sorrow and desolation of Mother’s Day. She was using him.

“You made good time,” he said.

“I was already on the road when I remembered to call you.” Actually she’d put off the call, thinking she might change her mind. Now she wished she’d stayed home.

As he opened her trunk and grabbed her bags, she reminded herself that she’d been honest with him. She’d told him she was only interested in sex.

Of course, then she’d completely contradicted that by having dinner at his place and spending the night...again. Eating breakfast with him...again. And here she was spending the week with him. No small wonder he had the wrong idea about their relationship. She’d seriously screwed up this one.

She followed him to steps leading up to the porch, stopped short and gasped. She stared agape at the man waiting at the top. He was more tan, his hair darker, but she’d recognize him anywhere. A choked whisper escaped her, so she could barely hear her own voice above the pounding of her heart. “Blaine?”

Charlie’s voice came through a fog. “You two know each other?”

She struggled for an explanation.
He’s possibly
,
although not probably
,
the father of my daughter.
Uh, not a good idea. Especially since neither Charlie nor Blaine was even aware she had a daughter.

Fortunately Blaine found a more acceptable explanation. “We’re college buddies.”

Well, at least one of them had his head on straight, even if he did look as dumbfounded as she felt. Why hadn’t she checked out the ranch online before she’d left Austin? Surely it had a web page. Any business seriously interested in survival was online. Fly-by-nights, too. She could have avoided all this.

“Talk about a small world,” Charlie said.

Meredith forced her slack jaw into a polite smile. Putting one foot carefully in front of the other, she climbed the stairs, extended her hand and drawled, “Blaine. It’s so good to see you again.”
Good
as in preferable to an aneurysm, or not getting tenure, or entrusting her daughter to two strangers to love and raise.

Damn. She’d wanted to escape Cassandra this weekend. And that just tripled her guilt.

She avoided his gaze as they touched.
Coward.
Instead she focused on his shoulder, broader than she remembered. He was heavier, too. He’d added some muscle since college.

“It’s been a long time,” Blaine said softly. “You look better than ever.”

She forced a light laugh and withdrew her hand. “You always were a sweet-talker.” Her mind blanked, leaving her at a loss for words, until one of the dogs yipped. Animals, blessed animals. She kneeled and slowly extended the back of one hand to the yellow mongrel whose excitement showed in his bright eyes and his tail thumping against the porch’s wooden planks. “Oh, aren’t you a good boy,” she said, modulating her voice to soothe. “And pretty, too. Yes, you are.”

“That’s Zach.” The other dog whined, and Blaine laughed. “And his partner in crime is Abby.”

“A to Z,” she said as she transferred her attention to Abby.

“Yep,” Blaine replied.

“Where’s the rest of the alphabet?”

“They’re it,” Charlie answered.

She stood and brushed her knees then spoke to Blaine while avoiding eye contact. “Now, tell me, are you a hunting guide like Charlie?”

Charlie cleared his throat. “Blaine owns the ranch.”

“But yes, I guide, too,” Blaine added.

“I had no idea you were such an outdoorsman,” Meredith said breathlessly. “You were so—oh, what’s the word I’m looking for?—studious in college.” She didn’t add
when you weren’t drinking
,
watching sports
,
playing video games or having sex
.

“He still puts in time behind a desk,” Charlie said. “Especially since he started running for sheriff.”

“Oooh, and a lawman, too,” she cooed.

“Not yet,” he countered. “But that’s the goal.”

As they followed Blaine into the house, she sensed Charlie’s attention on her. Sure enough, he was staring at her, questions in his eyes.

The room they entered was huge. High ceilings ribbed with dark wood beams. An oversized fireplace built with limestone rock along the left wall toward the back. Above it? What else but an animal head. Something with horns. A deer or an elk? Her brother-in-law could identify it. Rich, overstuffed, chocolate-colored leather furniture and age-darkened end tables grouped around the fireplace. To her right were two doors. The one to her immediate right opened into a room with a large oak desk, a computer and some papers on top. Two brown beer bottles sat among the papers. They’d started happy hour early. Or maybe not. It was almost six.

The other door, farther back, was open, but from this angle she couldn’t see what was in it. Between the two doors was another grouping of overstuffed chairs, some leather, some in a sturdy green-and-red plaid.

To her left, yet another door opened into a hallway. Between that door and the fireplace was a flat-screen that would give a movie buff or a sports nut a hard-on. A leather sofa and four recliners faced it. Definitely a room designed for men. At the very back was a double door leading into a wide hall.

“What can I get you to drink, Meredith?” Blaine asked.

“Oh, whatever the two of you are having will be fine. But first, I’d like to freshen up a bit if you don’t mind. I’m a mess after that drive.”

Charlie leaned over and murmured in her ear, “You look great. Sexy as always.” He straightened and raised his voice to a normal conversational tone. “I’ll show you to your room.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She beamed up at him then glanced at Blaine, still reluctant to make eye contact. “I won’t keep him long. I promise.”

As she followed Charlie through the closest door to the left, she wondered about the sleeping arrangements. They hadn’t discussed them. She’d assumed they’d be sharing a room and a bed. Stupid, stupid. She should have insisted on a separate room because she really needed some time alone to regroup.

“Um, Charlie.”

He smiled over his shoulder, unaware of the undercurrents in the house. If he read her feet at that moment, what they would tell him? “Yeah, Doc.”

He entered a bedroom and tossed both of her small bags on the bed’s starburst quilt. She surveyed the room, stalling to find the right words. An oak mission-style dresser and two matching nightstands were the only other furnishings. The tops of all three were bare of personal items. Just a small digital alarm clock on one of the nightstands.

“This is nice,” she said.

“I thought you’d like it. Mine’s right next door.” He paused, and his voice deepened. “Just because we’re not sharing a room doesn’t mean I don’t want to share a bed with you. I just thought you’d like some privacy.”

Relief flooded her, and she wanted to cry at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she said. “I really do appreciate it.”

His pleased little-boy smile touched her almost as much as his thoughtfulness. “I’ll let you settle in. We’ll be out in the den when you’re done.”

“Wait. I brought you something.” She flipped open her suitcase and lifted the long brown box with the bottle of tequila inside. When she offered it to him, she said, “Thank you for having me.”

“You didn’t have to do that. It’s great just having you here.” He shrugged, seeming unsure of himself. Not like Charlie at all.

“It was a beautiful drive,” she said lamely. It was all she could think of without lying.

If he recognized her response as lackluster, he didn’t show it. When he left her alone, she sank to the bed, curling into herself. After her suggestion to Charlie that he do an internet search on her, why the hell hadn’t she done the same for Charlie and the ranch? She could have saved herself this awkwardness.

Forget awkward, she could have saved herself the torture. So what was she supposed to do now?

She wanted to avoid Blaine but that was going to be difficult, considering this was his home. She’d have to hide out in the bedroom. That would be suspicious, not to mention rude. Not that she had a problem with rude. Not with Blaine. But Charlie didn’t deserve it. Leaving was out of the question unless she came up with a plausible excuse. Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to hurt Charlie. He was so excited about her visit.

At least Blaine had remembered her. It would have been rather ego-deflating if he hadn’t. Not that that meant anything. For all she knew, their threesome was one of a long line of kinky trios. Did they still share women and dump them the next day? Did he and Dylan even stay in touch?

Her jaw tightened, and her stomach clutched. As bad as it was seeing Blaine again, seeing Dylan would be worse. She’d known Blaine was a one-night stand. But she’d thought Dylan loved her. She’d been so fucking confused when Dylan hadn’t answered her calls. She’d gone to his dorm room. Blaine was gone, Dylan despondent. He’d told her it was over. Hadn’t given her a reason or offered an explanation. Nothing. Just goodbye.

Two months later, when she’d learned she was pregnant and worked up the courage to tell Dylan, he’d questioned whether the baby was his. Of course, she wasn’t sure. Two men had penetrated her that month. Blaine once. Dylan every Friday and Saturday night. Dylan’s condom was the one that had failed. But when she’d reminded him, he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t marrying her—as if she’d have him. He’d advised her to get an abortion. He hadn’t even offered to pay for it.

She’d been so young and so stupid, and they’d taken advantage and left her to deal with the consequences. A life lesson. One she’d never recover from.

* * *

Charlie reluctantly left Meredith alone to settle in. Something was going on with her. He didn’t know why, but she’d reverted to her ditzy blonde routine. He wanted to ask her, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion. And while he didn’t think she’d lie, he didn’t believe she’d be forthcoming either.

He grabbed his beer off Blaine’s desk then joined him at the cold, dark fireplace. Another bottle, cap still in place, stood on the end table, waiting for Meredith.

“College buddies, huh?” Charlie said.

Blaine sighed and raked a hand through his dark blond hair. “Yeah. Her boyfriend was my roommate. I hung out with them sometimes.”

Charlie nodded but didn’t say anything. Blaine looked guilty as hell. Miserable, too. That was it. Blaine was the key. She’d been fine—normal—until she’d seen him. Maybe the blast from the past had thrown her off. Maybe Blaine only knew the ditzoid, and she was reluctant to show him Dr. Burke.

“It didn’t end well,” Blaine said.

That tidbit startled Charlie. Why was Blaine elaborating? “The boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“It was a long time ago,” Charlie said. He hoped to hell she wasn’t still hung up on the guy. But that would explain her reaction to Blaine. Nothing like digging up bad memories, especially when you least expected them.

Blaine’s smile didn’t extend to his eyes. His campaign smile. “You’re right.” His chuckle sounded forced. “Eight years, give or take. Seems longer.”

Charlie didn’t say anything, just observed his friend and noted the slight changes in his expression. Longing. Regret. Guilt. It was almost like reading a book, which was why Charlie was so good at “foot reading.” He didn’t actually read the feet. He read the face. Sometimes there were other clues, like the cat hair on Meredith’s jeans. And most people liked to talk about themselves, so as he “read” their feet, his subjects provided even more information.

Blaine focused again. “So Meredith is your Doc.”

“Yeah.” He almost didn’t ask his next question. It wasn’t any of his business. Not really. But he didn’t want any more surprises this week—not unpleasant ones, anyway. “You still in touch with her old boyfriend? He around here?”

“No. I haven’t seen him since I graduated. I don’t know where he ended up.”

Charlie nodded and some tension seeped from his body. Damn, he hadn’t even been aware he was holding it.

Fifteen minutes later, he and Blaine popped up from their chairs when Meredith joined them. Charlie twisted the cap off her beer and handed her the bottle.

She wrapped her pale, manicured fingers around the glass and took a polite sip before reverting to the twang she’d dropped in her room. “What have you been up to all these years? The last I heard, you were off to law school.” She flicked her gaze up to the animal head. “This is about as far from a law firm as you can get. Is that why you’re running for sheriff?” She settled on the very edge of the raised hearth, her knees pressed together.

“I practiced for a couple of years.” Blaine shrugged. “I didn’t like being straight-jacketed in a suit and locked away inside an office.”

“He’s running for sheriff because the current office holder is an idiot,” Charlie added, his shoulder muscles tightening as the uneasy undercurrent intensified. Despite Meredith’s relaxed drawl, she was as stiff as Blaine. And Charlie didn’t have any idea how to fix it.

* * *

Meredith calmed down over dinner and gradually dropped her ditzy act. She didn’t need it, didn’t need Blaine to like her. Granted, he was Charlie’s friend, and if she’d planned on hanging around, his approval would have been nice. But she wasn’t hanging around. Of course, the beer helped the attitude. So did Blaine’s interest in her research. She was finally able to meet his eyes. Those beautiful turquoise eyes. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d made her feel that night—special, cherished, incredibly sexy. The intensity of those feelings had dissipated over the years. But now they came flooding back. She didn’t fight them but let them wash over her like the warm water of the Galveston surf.

When Charlie and Blaine began discussing the ranch and the details for the summer season, she was content to listen and observe the give and take between the two men. They talked more as business partners than employer and employee. They were obviously close friends.

During a lull in their planning, she asked Blaine, “How long have you had the ranch?”