Welcome to Temptation: A Romantic Comedy (17 page)

He drove for close to an hour, measuring the town’s progress as he went. He’d busted his butt over the past week; once again putting off his resignation when he saw how much there was still left to be done. It made him feel good in a way to know he had a hand in the recovery.

Gator pulled up alongside the brick building that used to house the pool hall. Pitiful-looking building, he thought. Nobody had ever tried to take care of it. The back door was torn completely off its hinges, a result of the storm, no doubt.

Gator stepped inside and squinted against the darkness. It was a big room, but about as shabby as they came. Heaven only knew when it had seen its last coat of paint. The pool tables were worthless, revealing rotting wood where they’d been stripped of their stained green felt. Somebody ought to do something about the place, he thought.

“What’cha doin’ here, Sheriff?”

Gator almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of the voice. He turned quickly on his heels and saw someone sitting in the shadows. There was movement, and a second later, a young boy stepped into the light streaming in from a broken window. Gator recognized the boy who’d come into his office a week ago, Billy Wilcox.

Gator sighed his relief. “You sneak up on me like that again, and I’ll lock you in the back of my patrol car,” he said, although he was half smiling.

The boy smirked. “Aw, you ain’t so tough, Sheriff. Not as tough as my old man. He could whip your ass in a heartbeat.”

“Watch your language, kid,” Gator said. He studied the young face before him. “Did your daddy give you that black eye?” When the boy didn’t answer, he went on. “Is that why you’re hiding out here with the roaches?”

The boy looked partly embarrassed, partly scared. “Naw, I fell.”

“Sure you did.” Gator paused. “That’s what I used to tell folks when my old man got rough with me,” he said.

“Your daddy
hit
you?” Billy said in disbelief. “I thought he was supposed to be the greatest sheriff in the whole danged world.”

“Yeah, that’s what everybody thought.” Gator looked around the room, then returned his attention to the boy. “I think I know your daddy. He hangs out at the Night Life Lounge. Drinks a little, huh?”

The boy gave a hoot of a laugh. “My old man ain’t never drank a little of nothin’.” His look sobered. “He don’t like a damn thing I do. He says I ain’t worth killin’.” He touched the bruise lightly and winced. “Sometimes I think he’d like to do it personally.”

“Yeah, well, that happens sometimes between fathers and sons. That doesn’t mean you’re bad. It just means your daddy doesn’t know how to be a good father. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. Besides, I think you’re a pretty neat kid, and I don’t particularly like kids, so that’s a compliment.”

“Why should I give a flip if you like me?”

Gator suppressed a smile. The kid was tough for his age. “‘Cause you and I got a lot in common and ‘cause I can get your old man off your back. If I feel like it,” he added.

“What do I got to do in return?”

Gator crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Several things,” he said. “You could check on my mother for me while I’m out of town. See that she has what she needs. Do some chores. And when I get back, you can be in charge of fixing up this dump.” A look of incredulity passed over the boy’s face. “I’ll work on getting the money for it in the meantime.” Gator had already decided he would go along with his plans for the town with or without the help of a bunch of tight-fisted politicians.

The boy didn’t speak for a minute. In fact, he looked about ready to cry. “You can really get my old man off my back? How?”

Gator grinned. “All I have to do is talk to him, man-to-man. Is it a deal?” He held out his hand. He wondered for a moment if the boy would take it. When he didn’t make a move to do so, Gator shrugged and started to pull it back. Without warning, the boy grasped his hand tightly and pumped it with more enthusiasm than Gator was prepared for.

“All right, Sheriff!” he said. “You got yourself a deal. Just tell me where your mother lives, and I’ll be out there first thing tomorrow.”

And then Gator knew the boy had not been responsible for hurting his mother, and that he’d probably told the truth about the real perpetrator leaving town. Gator had accomplished more than he’d expected.

Gator’s business at the Night Life Lounge took less than five minutes. He called Billy Wilcox’s father outside and shoved him hard against his truck. The man covered his face and begged Gator not to hit him.

“What’s wrong with you, Wilcox? You scared to fight a man?” Gator ground out through tightly clenched lips. He knew a moment of rage that shook him to the core. He had to stay cool. He released the man, who fell to the ground.

“I ain’t done nothin’!” Wilcox cried. “Why’re you picking on me?”

“‘Cause I don’t like grown men beating up little boys, that’s why.” Gator reached for the man and dragged him to his feet. “I’m only going to give you one warning,” he said, his tone menacing. “You lay another hand on that boy or anybody else for that matter, and I’m going to make you wish you’d never slid from your mama’s womb. Do you understand what I telling you? I’m going to make you wish you had never been born.”

The man nodded.

“And another thing; I’m going to be watching you. I better not catch you behind the wheel of your truck while you’re all tanked up.” Gator released him with such force, he sent the man sprawling to the ground. “I suggest you find yourself a job and get off the booze, old man, ‘cause I’m not going to stop riding you till you do.” Gator didn’t wait for him to respond. He stalked over to his truck, got in, and drove away.

On Saturday morning Michelle awoke to the sound of steady knocking. Someone was at her door. She groaned and climbed out of bed, then, still half asleep, staggered toward the living room. She threw open the door and found herself face to face with Gator Landry. For a moment she was stunned into speechlessness.

“Damn, Mic, don’t you even bother to find out who’s on the other side of your door before you just open it?” Gator asked, stepping over the threshold. He kicked the door closed behind him. “Have you any idea how many women are raped and robbed and Lord only knows what else from doing just what you did?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “How can you expect law enforcement to protect you when you open your door to anyone?”

She blinked. “Gator, what are you doing here? I know you didn’t drive all this way to lecture me on home safety. Did you bring my car?”

“Your car’s still sitting in line at the body shop. I told you they don’t hurry things along in Temptation. Mind if I sit down?” He took a seat on the couch without waiting for permission. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her in her pink shorty pajamas that brought out the flush in her cheeks. Her hair was tousled about her face beguilingly, her eyes dreamy and sleep-filled. Her long legs held his attention.

“I tried to call you at least a half dozen times over the past week, Mic, but you weren’t home.” It had been more than a half dozen, but he wasn’t about to fess up and lose bargaining power. He’d practiced his speech on the drive up, but now he felt unsure.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh? You been pulling double shifts at the hospital?”

“No.”

So she was going to play hardball, he thought. Make him work for his information. “Does this mean you’re not going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Michelle planted her hands on her hips. Oh, the nerve of the man! Here he was questioning her, after he’d walked out on her. “Get this straight, Gator Landry,” she said. “I don’t sit home and wait for any man.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her show of temper. Damn, but she was cute. And sexy. And everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. “Not even for me, Mic?”

“Not even for you,” she said firmly.

He rose slowly from the sofa and closed the distance between them. He stopped only inches from her, leveling his gaze at her green eyes. “I’ve been sitting home nights over you, love.”

Michelle almost shivered at his husky tone. His voice caressed her; the heat in his eyes warmed her belly. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you? What happened? Did the Night Life Lounge burn to the ground after I left?”

He chuckled and reached for her, but she took a step back. “I owe you an apology,” he said.

“Damn right you do.”

“I’m sorry.”

She was taken off guard by the earnest look in his eyes. “You should be.”

“I was scared, Mic. Terrified, in fact.” He held out his hands as if surrendering. “I had to back away and clear my mind.”

She felt herself softening against her will. “What on earth could you be afraid of, Gator Landry?”

“Of falling in love with you, darlin’,” he said simply. “But it’s too late now because it happened, and there’s not a blasted thing I can do about it. And now I realize I don’t want to do anything about it. I just want to keep on loving you.”

Michelle’s knees suddenly felt about as sturdy as warm jelly. “What about all those grand plans you had of traveling all over the world?”

Gator shot her an amused look. “You’re going to make me grovel, aren’t you?” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “Remember when I told you I never felt as though I belonged?” She nodded. “That’s before I realized I belonged with you. Where I go or what I do really doesn’t matter anymore as long as you’re beside me.”

“Maybe now, but what about next week?”

His look sobered. “I don’t make decisions lightly, Mic. I wouldn’t have come here if I hadn’t thought this over very carefully. Hell, that’s all I’ve been doing the past week.” When she continued to look doubtful, he went on. “You’re the only person who ever loved me for who I am. Besides my mother,” he added with a chuckle, “but that’s her job. And I know you love me, Mic.” He smiled tenderly. “Before you came along I felt I wasn’t worthy of love. I thought I was a nobody, and I was scared you’d find out just how much of a nobody I was if I let you get too close.”

“Oh, Gator.” She felt her heart swell with love for the man, knowing how hard it was for him to tell her such things about himself.

“I’ve never had a high opinion of myself. It’s not important why, but I never felt I measured up. That’s the real reason I didn’t want to be sheriff. I was flattered when they asked me, but I was afraid I would let them down. I was afraid I couldn’t be the man my daddy was. Now I realize I only have to be myself.” He shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. “I figure if you love me, I can’t be too awful bad.”

Michelle was clearly touched by the confession. “Does that mean you’re going to keep the job?”

“I start law enforcement training on Monday.”

She shook her head, stunned at the announcement. “I’m very proud of you, Gator.”

She probably had no idea what those simple words meant to him. “I want you beside me, Mic,” he said gently. “I’m here to offer you a job and a marriage proposal.”

Michelle was clearly stunned by his words. “You are?”

Gator still felt unsure of himself. “Perhaps you’d like to discuss the job first. It’s working with a youth group I’m putting together as soon as I can squeeze the money out of those tightwads in City Hall. Plus, the clinic could use a hand now and then.”

She waved the statement aside. “I think I’d like to hear about the marriage proposal first, if you don’t mind.”

He smiled, almost shyly. “I’d like for you to be my wife, Mic,” he said, and held his breath waiting for her answer. “I’ll understand if you need to think about it.” She continued to look at him in utter stupefaction, so he continued. “I don’t care where we live as long as you’ll agree to spend a weekend on the houseboat with me every once in a while. And maybe do a little fishing with me. In return, we’ll hire a contractor, and you can decide what kind of house you want him to build. I love you, Michelle. With all my heart,” he added solemnly. He pulled the velvet box from his pocket and opened it.

All at once Michelle was in his arms, laughter bubbling from her throat. Gator grinned, slipped the ring on her finger, and then captured her laughter with his lips. “Does this mean yes?” he asked when he raised his head.

“Yes!” she squealed.

“And you’ll wait for me while I’m in training?” Before she could answer, he added, “I’ll be able to see you weekends, and it’s only for six weeks. It’ll give you time to decide if you’re interested in working with these kids or helping out at the clinic in Temptation.” He shrugged. “Or maybe you just want to lie around naked on my houseboat for a while and make babies. We have a lot of time to make up for, love.”

She nodded, unable to take her eyes off his face. He looked radiant. “Sixteen years worth,” she said. “I can’t wait to get started.”

He kissed her tenderly, fitting himself against the soft curves of her body. “I’m going to be a good husband, Mic. I swear.”

“I know that, Gator. You’re already a good man, you know.”

“Don’t ever stop telling me that, darlin’. And don’t ever stop telling me how much you love me and need me. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it.” He kissed her again. And again, until their breaths were hot and raspy. Their groans of pleasure rose over their heads.

Michelle broke the kiss. “Shouldn’t we tell your mother and my grandmother?”

He pondered her question. “Maybe we should wait and tell them in person. They won’t be expecting it.”

“It’ll be a shock, I’m sure.”

He nodded. “We’ll break it to them gently.”

Michelle anchored her hands around his neck. Gator grinned and swooped her up in his arms with very little trouble. “We’ve got time to tell them. But right now we’re going to concentrate on making up for lost time. Maybe if we work hard …”

Michelle snuggled against him as he carried her into the bedroom.

Charlotte Hughes published her first category romance in 1987, a Bantam Books’
Loveswept,
titled
Too Many Husbands,
which immediately shot to #1 on the Waldenbooks Bestseller list. She went on to write almost thirty books before the line closed in 1998.