Ugly Ducklings Finish First (9 page)

Logic told her she shouldn’t believe him. But with his hips pumping against the veiled juncture of her thighs and his mouth sampling the flavor of her pulse in her neck, she wanted to forget all about logic and just believe. Believe he felt the same overwhelming wave of passion that was engulfing her, believe that what had come before had merely been a prelude for this moment. Everyone had a history. What mattered was now, this moment.

In a parking lot behind a greasy spoon.

“Dear God, Payton, I want you now. Right now.”

“Now?” Urgent, demanding, he rocked his hips against hers, and there was no way she could stifle a low moan.

“I love the noises you make.” His voice was rough with need, a velvet rasp that could have seduced the devil himself. “I could have you right here.”

“Wiley... Oh God, wait.” Somewhere along the way she had pulled his shirt out from the waistband of his pants. It took most of her strength to stop herself from stroking her hands over his lower back, and the remainder of her strength got eaten up by the willpower it took to push him away. “Please, just...wait a second.”

“Wait?” He repeated the word like he’d never heard it before. “We’ve waited too long already.
Years
.”

“But—”

“I love the taste of you.” Dragging the strap of her dress from her shoulder, he let his lips trail to the exposed skin. “I think I’m addicted.”

She knew what that madness was like, with the flavor that was uniquely Wiley still on her tongue. “Wiley, please. I have to think.”

“Don’t think.”

“Do you realize we’re in public?” Again she pushed against his chest, and nearly caved when the flat nipple puckered against her palm through the thin veil of his shirt. “We can’t just break out and have sex right here in broad daylight. Against a pickup, for God’s sake.”

Frustration flashed in his eyes, but that last part sparked a quick grin. “Would you prefer a limo?”

“I’d prefer not to have this happen beside the loading dock of Mabel’s Diner.”

“You’re right.” There was no laughter in him now as his hands clenched on her hips. “Come home with me.”

“What?” The startled response was no more than a whisper. For just a moment she saw in his eyes a reflection of what they both wanted—their bodies entwined together on a bed unfettered by clothes. Or sheets. Or anything at all. In perfect union they pulsed and rocked and writhed, straining in agonized desperation for the explosion of mindless pleasure.

The sweetness of that vision twined around her until it was all she could see. “I...”

“Just say yes.”

Oh, how easy he made it all sound. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Wiley stared at her as if he doubted his hearing. “You seemed to think it was a good idea a few minutes ago.”

“I know.” She squeezed her eyes closed and wished she could shut out the wild emotions he unleashed in her just as easily. “That’s the point. I wasn’t thinking. Now I am.”

“You want me, Payton. Don’t deny it.”

He had her there. “Yes, I do. I mean, I
did
.”

The past tense had his eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not like you.”

“Now you’ve really lost me.”

“My first time was with a man I thought I might one day marry,” she said, trying to explain what she suspected was the unexplainable. Getting Wiley to grasp how she viewed relationships was like communicating with someone from another planet—inevitably the heart of it was going to be lost in translation. “It was a relationship that lasted until he went overseas to complete his doctorate, so it obviously wasn’t a fly-by-night thing. None of my relationships have been fly-by-night, because I don’t know how to be casual when it comes to intimacy. I can’t just take what I want, then go on my merry way tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I’m offering.”

“That’s what I have to give. I’m here for less than week before I go back to Houston. I probably won’t even see you again after today, so it hardly makes sense to get involved with you in a way that might...entangle me.” She couldn’t explain any more than that. Not for the world was she ready to admit that his kisses alone were enough to make her yearn to stay forever at the side of a man who had no idea what the word
forever
meant.

There was a scowl building in his expression. “I’m really beginning to hate Houston. It’s not the moon, you know.”

“It may as well be. My future is there, not here. Bitterthorn is my past, Wiley. I’d have to be nuts to allow myself to get involved with you now. It would...”
Hurt too much
. “It wouldn’t be smart.”

“That may be, but you’re overlooking one thing.”

“What?”

“You’re already involved with me.”

Her blood iced over. “A kiss or two doesn’t mean anything.”

“A kiss or two can mean everything when it’s done right. I know it’s not logical or rational, but it’s the truth,” he added when she shook her head in horrified denial. “I guess that’s got to scare the hell out of a logical, rational person like you.”

Pride snapped her chin up. “I’m not scared.”

“Ah, Payton. You’re so irresistible when you lie.” The hands at her hips squeezed, either in punishment or comfort, she couldn’t tell which. “Look at this as an opportunity to learn a life lesson, sweetheart. Trying to make sense out of something that feels this right is like trying to hold on to sunshine. It can’t be done. All we can do is accept that we’re going to be lovers.”

The mere thought of it filled her with such yearning she nearly moaned. No way was it healthy to want something that much. “Not if I can help it.”

“You won’t be able to.” His hands slid up and cupped her breasts, sensuously lifting their feminine weight. Her low sigh of pleasure made his breath catch. “We’re almost there now.”

She trembled, melting against him. “Damn you...
More
.”

“Anything to make you happy—”

“Wiley! You still out here?”

Payton sprang away from him as the intruding voice shattered their private world. Furious, Wiley swore under his breath, looking for a moment like he might attack anything that moved. “Yeah, Jilly, what is it?”

“Rafe is on the phone asking for you.” The waitress appeared around the corner of the building, clearly following the sound of his voice. “Do you have your phone off, or something?”

“Guilty. What does he want?”

“Something about Sheriff Berry needing to know what time frame you were out of your house when it got vandalized.”

“What?” Payton glanced quickly to him and hoped her flesh wasn’t visibly glowing from the seductive glide of his hands. “Your house was vandalized?”

“It’s no big deal.” He waved it away as if it were nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I need to take this call.”

“That’s not all. Rafe wanted to know if Dr. Pruitt is with you.” She offered a wry wave to Payton. “I guess she is. By the way, Dr. Pruitt, your mom wanted me to let you know she needed to get back to work, so she’ll catch up with you later.”

“Payton Pruitt, Jilly Bascomb.” Without an ounce of self-consciousness, Wiley righted his clothes. “I doubt you remember, Payton, but Jilly was a year behind us in high school. She was on both the pep squad and the all-state cheerleading team.”

“Oh.” Payton smoothed a nervous hand over her hair. “How do you do?”

Jilly’s smile was a flash of brilliance. “I hope that’s not a medical question.”

“Uh, no...”

“I remember you even if you don’t remember me,” Jilly rattled on as they returned to the bustling diner. “I envied you every time my parents signed my report card.”

“Oh?” Distracted, Payton watched Wiley round the counter and pick up the phone, her brain spinning uselessly. Had she almost tossed caution to the wind and had stand-up public sex with Wiley? The
Coyote?
If she looked the world over, she wouldn’t be able to find a worse match for her. And yet despite all reasoning as to why he would be devastating to her peace of mind, she had very nearly become his latest acquisition.

Worse yet, part of her was sorry they’d been interrupted.

With an effort, she dragged her attention to the redhead. “Did Rafe say why he was looking for me?”

“Nope. Just that he was looking.” Jilly lifted a wry brow. “I’d be careful if I were you, Doc. Rafe’s a doll, but given half a chance he’ll do his best to turn your head.”

If she had her head turned any more she’d be doing a Linda Blair impersonation. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And speaking of dolls.” Jilly slid a glance Wiley’s way. “He’s something, isn’t he?”

“That he is.” Anything else would be a lie.

“I’ve had a soft spot for him ever since high school. We even dated briefly.”

Surprise
,
surprise
. “Wiley dated everyone briefly.”

“Not you.” The smile Jilly offered was oddly wistful. “You always meant something more to him.”

Payton raised a dubious eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“After Wiley started passing his exams with flying colors, we all knew it had to be his tutor’s influence, even though you were never seen together at school. And then when he went all fight-club rabid with some bully and got himself suspended, the whole school knew he’d done it to defend you.”

“How could the whole school know?
I
didn’t even know that.” Even as she spoke, the memory of Wiley accusing her of burying herself in books echoed in her mind.

“Everyone knew,” Jilly reiterated with a wry lift of a shoulder. “He dated just about every swoony girl who crossed his path in high school, including me, but you were the only one he ever fought for. I guess that’s another reason why I envied you.” Her name was called, and she grabbed a pitcher of iced tea. “See you around, Doc.”

Payton watched her go while the confusion inside her grew.

Chapter Nine

The track leading to Alex Xavier’s house was a neatly kept unpaved road that wound through a stand of century-old pecans. Wiley threw his sunglasses on the Corvette’s dashboard while the sun sank in the west, gearing up for the battle of simply getting his client to talk with him.

Not that Carlos was his client, he reminded himself as he pulled up to the two-story stone-and-beam prairie house. The patriarch of the Xavier family had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him. He figured no one in Bitterthorn would blame him if he quietly dropped the investigation, offered his sympathies and went on his way.

But he wasn’t ready to bounce just yet. Aside from needing the distraction from the chaos in his life, he’d never been able to resist a puzzle, and that was exactly what the Xavier foreclosure was. A giant jigsaw puzzle that had no accompanying picture and several missing pieces, but that was part of the fun. Small wonder he wasn’t able to leave it alone.

Movement on the porch made Wiley look up as he cut the engine, and he waved a hand at Alex Xavier. “Evening, Alex. I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”

“You’re just in time to be invited to it. Trina’s pot roast could win awards.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m going to have to ask for a rain check.” Following his friend into the Southwestern decorated living room, Wiley shot him a searching look. “How’s your grandfather’s mood today?”

“Same as always. Acting like a guest with us and not speaking unless spoken to.”

“And he won’t talk about the events leading to the foreclosure?”

Alex grimaced. “That would mean admitting he made a mistake. He’s a proud man, Wiley. The sun will fall from the sky before he does that.”

Wiley bit back a curse. “His silence isn’t making things easier.”

“He doesn’t care. About anything.”

“Could I speak with him?”

“Fine by me, though I suspect it’ll be same old, same old. He won’t talk to you, dude.”

“We’ll see.”

After being directed out to the back patio, Wiley found Carlos Xavier sitting in a cushioned wrought-iron patio chair, watching his two eldest great-grandsons toss a football through the purpling twilight. At first glance it seemed a heartwarming moment, but one look into Carlos’s leathery, wrinkled face dispelled any notion of familial tranquility.

The man was mourning himself to death.

“Those boys are going to follow in their dad’s footsteps,” Wiley said, standing a few feet away from where Carlos sat. “I remember the one and only time I tried out for football in high school. One hit from Alex convinced me basketball was my sport.”

A grunt that could have meant anything sounded from the old rail-thin man. “Football has been a tradition in the Xavier family from the time I was in school.”

“Tradition is very important to you, isn’t it, sir?”

The old man’s mouth tightened. Silence was his answer.

Undaunted, Wiley pressed on. “I’ve asked for the records on your loan from Farmer’s Bank, Mr. Xavier. But they won’t release the information I need without your consent.”

“It’s none of your business, boy.”

“You’re part of this community, Mr. Xavier. That makes it my business,” Wiley corrected, though he knew the old man was right. “I know how important that property is to you. It isn’t just a piece of land—it’s a symbol of your heritage.”

“And now these children will never know that heritage. Not like I do, or their father,” Carlos choked off, and with concern Wiley watched him struggle to even out his breathing. “They’ll never have the chance to live it, and that’s almost more than I can take.”

“Then do something about it, sir. Let me help—”

“There’s nothing to be done.” At last Carlos raised his liquid black eyes to Wiley, and they were terrible with pain and unvented grief. “For the last time, stay out of it. It’s over.”

“Mr. Xavier—”

“Leave me!” The old man came halfway out of his chair, veins standing out in his neck. Wiley murmured his apologies and retreated, his face tight with a scowl. He didn’t want to throw in the towel, but without cooperation there was nothing left for him to do.

Hunting down the sounds of life, he found Alex in the kitchen with his one-year-old son and wife Trina, and their quiet unity made him pause in the doorway. Alex rubbed Trina’s back as she bent over the energetic baby to feed him, and as he watched the little family, an unnamed hollowness echoed through his chest. It was strange, watching them from the sidelines—it was as if he was catching a glimpse of an alien world that had somehow been hidden from him until now. There was a harmony that was almost tangible in this domestic scene, and it made him feel like an interloper. These people belonged together, in a way that he’d never belonged anywhere.

For some reason, that bugged him no end.

Alex’s attention swung his way when he stepped into the kitchen. “Uh-oh, that’s a nasty expression. I hate to say I told you so, but...”

“I upset him. Again.” Taking the offered celery stick from a sympathetic Trina, Wiley bit into it with more force than necessary. “If I can’t get my hands on any more information, there’s nothing more I can do, Alex. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve already done more than anyone could have asked.”

“He’s right, Wiley.” Trina bent to wipe her son’s messy face. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your looking into this for us. If you’d just let us pay—”

“First off, I haven’t done anything. And secondly, neighbors helping neighbors is the way small towns get by. I’m just trying to find a way to make it better, though I don’t think I can do anything more at this point.”

Alex clapped Wiley on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to my granddad.”

“I wouldn’t right now, Alex. I have a talent for upsetting him.”

“He’s like that all the time these days.”

“I got to him more than usual tonight.” Wiley took out his smartphone and typed a quick message. “Alex, I just texted you Deborah Pruitt’s home phone number. If your grandfather has any problems this evening, you might be able to reach her daughter through her, Dr. Payton Pruitt. She’s just as worried about Carlos as the rest of us.”

“Payton Pruitt.” Alex shook his head. “Man, I remember her. The Baby Brain of Bitterthorn High.”

“She remembers you too. She thought you were cute when you were a kid.”

His eyes lit up. “Did she?”

“When you were a kid,” Trina repeated, elbowing him. “She hasn’t seen you lately.”

“Anyway, you might be able to reach her through her mother. Though,” Wiley added, glancing at his watch, “she might already have returned to San Antonio for the night.”

“No, she hasn’t.” Trina glanced up from the raw vegetables she was cutting. “Mary Lou Rodriguez went into labor earlier today. Since she refused to leave for San Antonio until her husband was with her, she asked if your friend would sit with her.”

Wiley frowned. “Doesn’t Art Rodriguez work up in Austin?”

“Yup. The last I heard, he was fighting traffic on I-35 to get down here. I don’t know if Mary Lou’s water broke yet, but if it does I have a feeling they’re going to be stuck down here in Bitterthorn for the blessed event. And I’m not the only one who thinks that, either—Hal over at the pharmacy told me the good doctor left Mary Lou’s side just long enough to get things ready down at old Doc Benson’s clinic to be on the safe side.”

“Son of a gun.” Wiley grinned. All at once he had a pretty good idea why Rafe had been trying to locate Payton earlier. “It’s been a while since a baby was born in that place.”

“The whole town’s in an uproar about it, or so it seemed when I went to pick up a few things at the drugstore.” With a smile, Trina snitched a carrot stick for herself. “Hal also said he’d heard Nurse Grimes had volunteered to don her old uniform to head into battle, should Payton need her.”

“Wow.” Wiley found himself chuckling at the thought of the high school’s ancient, unbearably grouchy nurse toiling away in the trenches with Payton. “It looks like we’re going to be welcoming the newest citizen of Bitterthorn into our community.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could welcome Payton back as well?”

Wiley smiled but didn’t answer. But in his mind, the question lingered.

* * *

The bright sound of birdsong echoed on the edges of Payton’s consciousness. The scent of roses bloomed all around her, and she smiled with pleasure. This was nice. All dreams should be filled with birdsong and roses. After the late night she’d had, she deserved it.

At the memory of the drop-cloth-covered exam room and the cries of mother, then child, Payton surfaced closer to wakefulness. Gamely she fought it; no way was she ready to face the aching muscles she knew were waiting for her. Bringing a new life into the world wasn’t as easy as it seemed on TV, and heaven knew she didn’t remember it being this tense when she did her OB-GYN rotation, but thankfully everything had gone like clockwork. Bitterthorn’s population had officially grown by one.

Grimacing at the scratchy collar of the nightgown she’d borrowed from her mother, Payton yawned, stretched and opened her eyes. Then she blinked, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

What in the world...?

With a sleepy frown, she touched the red rose lying next to her on the pillow. Bewildered, she brought the beautiful bloom to her face and buried her nose in it, the silken petals and rich perfume of the flower convincing her it wasn’t some weird stress-induced dream.

Except...it had to be. Nothing else made sense.

“You were made for a bed of roses.”

The breath screeched to a halt and her skin tingled with invisible fire. She told herself it was surprise at the unexpected masculine voice, but she knew her reaction had nothing to do with that. No, what made her breath pause and her pulse race like a sprinter at the sound of the gun was something far more dangerous than mere surprise.

It was instant, overwhelming desire.

Slowly Payton sat up, and a cascade of rose petals fell along with the sheet into her lap. A luscious cloud of their scent floated around her, and only then did she realize the air was redolent with their perfume, making every breath a seductive pleasure.

No wonder she had dreamed of roses.

Her incredulous gaze traveled down the length of the narrow twin bed carpeted with petals to where Wiley sat, ensconced in an armchair that used to hold her stuffed animals. She had a dim memory of throwing her clothes onto that chair and tumbling into bed just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Now Wiley had taken their place, a hardcover book lying open in his lap. His hooded green eyes were trained on her as if she was lying there naked and vulnerable and he was enjoying the view. The tingling intensified, localizing deep in the hidden cleft between her thighs until it was almost painful, and her hand fluttered up to the gown’s irritating collar in a sudden desire to rip it off.

“Are you sitting on my clothes?”

“No.” His gaze flicked to the side for only an instant before returning to her, as if it was his mission in life to devour her with his eyes alone. “I’m not.”

She followed his glance to the folded pile of clothes on the otherwise bare dresser. Her mouth tightened when she saw her bra, a wisp of buttercup yellow lace and satin, was placed like a cherry on top.

“How did you get in?”

He tilted his head toward the window he’d always climbed through when they were kids, the same window she’d left propped open to ventilate the dusty staleness of the room hours earlier.

She had to work at stifling a shiver of excitement at the thought of him watching her as she slept. “An unlocked window isn’t an invitation to come in.”

“I don’t need an invitation, Payton. Not anymore.”

An overwhelming wave of heat rolled through her. There was no way she could convince herself it was borne out of anger. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“We really need to work on your self-esteem.” He closed the book with a muffled clap and ran a hand down its smooth front. She shivered, imagining that hand caressing down her back. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away from you.”

Her heart came to an all-out stop. “I can’t imagine that.”

“Then we’re also going to have to work on expanding your imagination.” A shadow of a smile appeared, though his eyes remained dark with an almost hypnotic intensity. “That should be fun. Not to brag, but I have an unbelievable imagination.”

“What is that?” A shade frantically Payton gestured at the book he held, before she lost her mind and explored that too-hot topic.

“Our senior yearbook. I found it in a box by the dresser,” he added when she groaned. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Gee, why should I mind?” She just prayed it wasn’t as ghastly as she remembered.

“I’m amazed at how young you were. I realize now that I never saw you as a little girl. I always had the greatest respect for you.”

Respect. Back in the day, she would have rather had his lust. “I was a forty-year-old trapped in a fifteen-year-old body. A geek’s underdeveloped fifteen-year-old body. I really was the Baby Brain you said I was.”

“Don’t.” The word growled out of him, and she was shocked at the harsh savagery that moved through his expression. “Don’t ever say that name again.”

“Um. Okay.” Not quite sure which way he was going to jump when he was in this sort of mood, she shifted her attention to the yearbook. “I’m all for ditching things from the past, including yearbooks. One of these days I’m going to burn every photo I’ve ever taken.”

“Don’t you dare. I love looking back to the days when I had you all to myself.”

She grimaced. “That’s one way of putting it. You certainly were the only friend I had.”

“There are no words big enough to describe what a privilege and pleasure it was.” To her relief, his grim expression softened into a smile as he glanced around the room. “I remember the last time I was here. Do you?”

She didn’t hesitate. “The day I left for college. I was packing and doing everything I could not to cry. I was terrified and already so homesick I thought I was going to throw up.”