Royal Trouble (7 page)

The best thing she could do right now was go outside.

"Wes, I'm so sorry...the phone rang and I should have ignored it, but I couldn't.  He would have just kept calling."

"You could have killed us all, because you weren't paying attention, Leigh Ann," he admonished.  "My son could have died."

A low-pitched whimper reached his ears and Wes looked down to meet her sorrow-filled gaze.  Her full lips trembled as she told him again, "I'm very sorry, I promise to be more careful. I got that call and forgot about the bacon."

That call was the problem, in more ways than one.  Who the hell had she been talking to?  Was she engaged?  Running from someone?  Using his place to hide out?  Wes had said he wouldn't ask questions, but he reconsidered that decision.  If this guy was a nut case and after her, his son could be in danger too.  "Who was that on the phone?"

"Um, Lester Fallon," she replied then grabbed his uninjured hand to drop the ice cubes in his palm.  He put them back on the burn.

"Lester Fallon?
The
oil tycoon
?" Wes roared in disbelief.

Her chin dropped to her chest and she wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Yeah, that Lester Fallon."

Good God, the richest man in Texas wanted this woman to
marry
him?  And she was refusing?  Even though he was a lot older than her and said to be an abrasive ass, most women would jump at the chance to marry the old bastard and live the high life.  To date, four other women had done just that and were now former Mrs. Fallons.

But Leigh Ann just told him the wedding was off, and obviously not for the first time.  Smart girl.  "How do you know Lester Fallon?" Wes asked gruffly. 

To his knowledge Rocky, and by relation her sister, did not come from a moneyed background.  Lester Fallon traveled in those circles.  Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous circles.  He had bodyguards, hung out with celebrities, so it was unlikely that someone not in his circle could access him.  That made Wes damned curious about how Leigh Ann Baker wound up in the position of almost marrying him.

"He's a friend of my mama's and because I won--" she stopped midsentence and her eyes made two slow blinks, before they widened as her lips pinched together. 

"You won what?" Wes asked when he realized she wasn't going to finish.

"Um, my mama introduced us, and wanted me to marry him," she corrected and through the hazy smoke he saw her cheeks redden.

"How does your mama know him?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Leigh Ann lied, and he knew she was lying, because he could see it written on her beautiful face. 
What the hell is she hiding?

"Is he harassing you?" Wes asked, still not convinced that his son wasn't in danger. 

Lester Fallon had the money to do just about anything he damned well pleased, and Wes had heard he was a shark of a businessman.  Not many people crossed the man, but it looked like Leigh Ann Baker had done just that.

"It's no big deal, he just isn't used to someone telling him no, to not getting what he wants," she said with a flutter of her hand.

"And he wants you."

"Apparently, so," she agreed with a huffed breath.  "Go sit out on the porch and keep that ice on your arm.  I'll clean up in here," Leigh Ann insisted as she shoved him toward the patio door. 

Maybe if she could get him outside, he would stop asking questions she couldn't answer.  Leigh Ann had promised Roxanne she wasn't going to tell him she was a former Miss Texas, and it was a promise she was going to keep, even if it meant lying to Wes Jepson.  But damn, she felt guilty about it.  He was helping her, letting her stay here, giving her a chance to start over again, and here she was lying to him.  He had to know she was doing it too.  Leigh Ann was a terrible liar, because she didn't do it often enough to be good at it.  And because she hated liars.  Now she was one.

Wes held the towel at his hip, as he walked toward the patio door.  Leigh Ann couldn't keep her eyes from following his tight butt.  They traveled up his broad muscled back to the sexy wet curls at the nape of his neck, then back down over his rear, down his firm thighs to his bare feet.  She had never before thought a man's feet were sexy, but his were.  Everything about the sweet man was sexy.  And off limits. 

Roxanne said Leigh Ann needed to focus on reinventing herself, getting her life together, not catching a man.  She was right, but this man, the first she had actually been attracted to in years, was entirely too tempting.  If he were interested, she would definitely be interested in him.  But Wes Jepson hadn't sent her one signal he was interested in her.  He was avoiding her like she had a communicable disease or something.

He probably thought she was a ditz, and she couldn't blame him.  Other than spit-shining his house and cleaning out some of the clutter, the best thing she had done for him while she was here was almost burn his house down. 

Or it could be because of what his ex-wife had done to him.  Maybe he wasn't over what she had done to him.  But damn, it had been seven years, according to her sister.  How long did it take a man to get over a woman?  She had never had that kind of relationship with a man, so she wouldn't know.

One thing she did know was she didn't want to hurt Wes or his son.  The best thing she could do was try and find a place of her own soon.  His adorable son had already charmed her, it wouldn't do to let his dad do the same, since he didn't seem to want a relationship, or even a friendship with her.  She wanted to leave with her heart in tact.

Leigh Ann sighed and accidentally sucked in a lungful of smoke, which made her cough violently. 

"You okay in there?" Wes yelled from the patio.

"Fine, I'm cleaning up.  I made coffee you want some?" She yelled back.

"That would be great," he replied

Leigh Ann walked to the cabinet and pulled down a cup, filling it with the hot liquid from the pot.  At least she had managed to make the coffee right, the only success in her attempt to fix breakfast for them.

"Cream and Sugar?" she asked loudly.

"Black," he replied and she took the cup and carefully brought it to him at to the wooden picnic table outside. 

She sat the cup down in front of him, then met his hazel eyes.  Twisting her hands in front of her, she apologized again, "I really am sorry, Wes."

The birds chirped, Silas looked up at her expectantly from near Wes's feet, but he didn't respond.  Wes sat there for a moment staring at the cup of coffee.  After he picked it up, he took a long sip and swallowed, before saying, "Don't worry about it, just be careful next time."

"Why did the pigs go to New York City, Miss Leigh Ann?" Trey interrupted with a gapped-tooth smile.

Roxanne had forewarned her that Trey loved to tell jokes.  She had been here a week and he hadn't tried one on her yet, so Leigh was ready for him.  With every day that passed, she wondered why he hadn't tried one on her, but finally guessed that he reserved his jokes for people he trusted.  To finally be included in that group was a relief for her.

Leigh Ann's eyes swung to him and she grinned back.  "I don't know, why did they go to New York City?"

Annie was right, the kid was adorable.  He had his daddy's hazel eyes and square jaw, and a toothless smile that stole her heart. 

Wes's rare smiles looked a lot like Trey's, just with nice even white teeth.  It lit up his whole face and made him look alive.  But the man didn't smile much.  At least around her.  He didn't seem real comfortable when she was around for some reason, definitely not like he felt around her sister.  Wes smiled at Roxanne, a lot.  And it made her a little jealous.

"To see the Big Apple," Trey replied and his grin got wider, as he followed up with,  "How did they get there?"

"I don't know?" she responded with a lifted eyebrow.

"Pigup Trucks," he said proudly.

"Did your daddy teach you that joke, baby boy?" she drawled, and felt the heat of Wes's eyes on her.

"No, ma'am, my grandpa did.  He has a lot of jokes."

Leigh Ann had a few of her own.  She knew every blonde joke ever written, had heard them all firsthand.  "Why do blondes always smile during lightning storms?"

Trey's eyes lit up, as he asked with excitement, "I don't know, why?"

"Because they think they're having their picture taken," she told him with the widest smile she could manage.

Trey shook his head looking confused.  "I don't get it."

"He's too young for blonde jokes," Wes grumped with a curl of his lip, before taking another gulp of his coffee and flinching.

Self-disgust shot through her for not realizing that.  "Oh, sorry..."

Leigh Ann hadn't been around kids much, so she didn't know what was appropriate and what wasn't.  She had just been trying to make a connection with Trey, and had failed miserably.

"He's only ten, and those kind of jokes are over his head," Wes told her.

Evidently connecting with his ten-year-old was over
her
head, because that feeble attempt was all she had.  Tears that had nothing to do with the smoke inside the house burned her eyes.  Leigh Ann nodded, sucked in a breath then darted toward the sliding glass door.  Silas had moved and she didn't see him laying by the door, so she stepped on his tail on her way inside.  He let out a long pained howl then slunk off to hide underneath the picnic table. 

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" she yelped as she staggered into the wall of the house, before righting herself and running to make sure the dog wasn't injured.  Shooting her a frightened look from beneath the table, Silas hid behind Wes's legs.

Leigh Ann straightened to look at Wes.  He shook his head, then with tight lips, reached under the table to scratch the dog between the ears, before running his hand along the dog's tail.  Staggering back, Leigh Ann turned and ran inside.  She went to the sink and leaned over it.  The burnt offering in the pan there mocked her.  Grabbing a scrub pad from the dish beside the faucet, she turned on the tap and went to work on cleaning it.

With every rotation of the pad, more emotion built up inside of her.  Thoughts swirled through her mind just as fast as her hand circled, the foremost being this was never going to work out here.   She would never fit in here, no matter how many pairs of jeans and cowboy boots she owned.  Wes didn't want her here, that was becoming obvious to her.

Leigh Ann was a pretender, an imposter, and Wes needed someone better than her to help with his vet practice.  She wasn't even fit to be around his ten-year-old son, or his dog.  Her sister had been trying to do her a favor, but Leigh Ann was going to call her just as soon as she finished mopping up this mess to tell her that she'd made a mistake.  Ask her to come and get her to take her to her car at Dylan's trailer. 

Leigh Ann had enough money left from her check for gas to head back to Dallas where she belonged.  Her mother would help her fix things, even if it wasn't how Leigh Ann wanted things fixed.  If that meant marrying Lester Fallon, so be it. 

What other option did a washed-up unemployable beauty queen have?

Leigh Ann shut the tap off with her forearm, then ran her arm over her cheek to swipe at the hot tears that burned tracks there.  She laid the skillet face down on the counter, picked up the dishtowel and put a little soapy water on it to wipe down the counter, the stove and the cabinets.  Under the cabinet, she found some air freshener and sprayed it generously around the room, then put it back.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she made her way to the stairs.  With each tread she took up, failure weighed heavier on her shoulders.  By the time she reached the landing, her legs were weak.  Sitting on the top step, she dropped her head onto her knees and hugged them to her.  Sucking in a shuddering breath, she fought the tears she couldn't seem to stop.

"Leigh Ann!" Wes yelled, his voice coming from somewhere near the kitchen.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she heard his footsteps heading toward the stairs.  Quickly, Leigh Ann jumped up, and turned to step onto the landing.  Footsteps beat double time on the stairs behind her as she hurried toward her room, hoping she could get inside before he saw her.  Her hand grasped the knob, just as his feet hit the landing.

"Leigh Ann..." he said walking toward her.

She threw up a hand, but didn't look at him, because she knew if she did she would break down.  "I cleaned up, please just leave me alone for a little bit." The sound of her nasally voice mortified her.  Leigh Ann twisted the knob and went inside the bedroom.  Before she could shut it behind her though, Wes put his foot in the gap and his hand on the door.

Hesitantly, her eyes met his then she looked away then shoved at the door again, but he held it open.  "Let me in, Leigh Ann."  The low timber of his sexy voice worked along her nerve endings.

"Thanks for the opportunity, Wes, but I just want to pack...I'll be out of here in a few minutes," she told him, her voice trembling over the words.

"It's not that big of a deal, honey.  Calm down and talk to me," he cajoled, his voice even and warm, not angry and cold like it had been a few minutes ago.

"It is a big deal...this isn't going to work out.  You can find someone a lot better than me for this job.  I almost burned down your house, corrupted your son and broke your dog's tail, I'll save you the trouble of firing me," she told him morosely. 

Leigh Ann recognized when it was time to throw in the towel, and it was now.  She didn't think she could stand being fired again...especially by Wes Jepson.

"Everyone is fine, Leigh Ann.  I'm not going to fire you," he said with a huffed breath then pushed the door again gently. 

Leigh Ann stepped back then turned away from him to hug herself.  God only knew how she looked, probably exactly how she felt, sick at her stomach.  Leigh Ann knew she was not a pretty crier, the end of her nose got red and swollen, her eyes swelled, and she looked like a sad bullfrog.  Thank goodness she hadn't put on makeup yet, or it would've been worse with mascara streaks on her cheeks.  Wes didn't need to see that.

"I'm firing myself then, you can do better than me.  It was a mistake to let Rocky recommend me for this job.  I'm not qualified, and I'm imposing in your home."