Ugly Ducklings Finish First (10 page)

“I climbed in through the window and saw your suitcases. That was when it really hit me—you were leaving me. And I knew you would never come back to Bitterthorn.”

His tone was so dark it made her think impossible things. “Are you saying...you thought you’d miss me?”

“You hadn’t even gone and I was missing you.”

She was so stunned she almost forgot how to talk. “You never said anything.”

“I wanted to. You’ll never know how close I came to begging you not to go that day. I wanted to say those words so bad I could feel them. I just wanted to say, don’t go.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It would have been wrong to ask you to stay. With that amazing brain of yours, you were destined for bigger things.”

“I...I suppose so.”

He frowned. “Do you have any regrets?”

“I’m not sure.” Her shoulder lifted in a gesture that was more resigned than anything. “My life has molded me into who I am. Though I’m not perfect, I can’t regret the person I’ve grown to be.”

“I’ll second that.” When he smiled, it was as warm as the sun itself. “I just wonder...”

She raised her eyebrows when he paused. “What?”

“If I had asked you to stay, would that have changed anything?”

“I don’t know.” She toyed with a rose petal before she gave up playing it casual, and locked her gaze with his. “I do know one thing. You’re the only one who could have made me hesitate.”

The admission settled between them, a hint of things that even now she refused to admit. Then he nodded once, as if he’d come to a decision, and rose from the chair to sit next to her on the narrow bed. “The town’s buzzing about what you did last night.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Payton pushed back against the pillows, struggling to maintain a careful distance. But that was a lost cause in a bed as narrow as a twin and both of them possessing more than their fair share of leg. “Mary Lou did all the work.”

“You were there.” He plucked the velvety petal from her fingers, rubbed it between his own before he drew it across her cheek. “Was that the first baby you’ve ever delivered?”

“Alone, yes. And certainly the first one outside of a hospital.” In desperation she tried to think of how scared she’d been the night before, and not how the radiating heat of his thigh against hers would scorch her without the meager barrier of the sheet between them. “I was as nervous as Arturo Rodriguez, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, but thankfully didn’t. Melina Rodriguez came into the world hollering her healthy lungs out.”

“Melina
Payton
Rodriguez.” He brushed the petal over her lips. “That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Helplessly aroused by the feather-soft brush of the petal against her lips, she couldn’t seem to stop her brain from picturing how the two of them could fit on the narrow bed. One on top of one was the only way to go. “Wiley, do you remember promising you weren’t going to be nice to me?”

“Sweetheart, I promised you no such thing. When you said you couldn’t resist me when I’m nice to you, all I did was promise I would remember that. See the difference?”

She nearly hurt herself holding back a moan of need. “What you do to me... You turn me inside out and you’re not even trying. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair, huh?” Dropping the petal, Wiley cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “All things considered, I think I’m being very fair to you.”

“All things considered?”

“Considering just watching you sleep made me ache to curl up next to you. Considering that watching you wake up with a smile made me want to touch you more than I wanted to breathe. Considering now that I am touching you, it’s all I can do to stop myself from burying myself inside you.”

The air left her lungs at the thought of their bodies merging to become one, and she couldn’t help but squirm as the burning heat between her legs began to ache. “It’s dirty pool to shower me with flowers when I’m sleep deprived and my resistance is down. I could be talked into just about anything.”

“Yeah?” His eyes glittered and he moved closer, the friction of thigh against thigh hot enough to spontaneously combust. “You complaining?”

“Hardly.” She turned her mouth into the cradle of his palm, nuzzling him with her lips. “I’m just saying your timing is suspect. I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.”

His smile was hot work of art. “I’ve never been able to fool you. And you can’t blame me for my timing. I haven’t eaten lunch yet and I was getting hungry, so I had to push things along. I have trouble being romantic on an empty stomach.”

“Lunch?” That made her snatch up her phone she’d left on the bedside, and a gasp of horror left her when she saw the time. “It’s a quarter to noon! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You had a rough night last night,” he began, then ducked out of the way when she bounded out of bed in a flurry of rose petals. “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

“Dr. Edie Fadir is giving a seminar on new techniques in laser surgery at ten o’clock!”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want to miss it.”

“Um, I think you already have.”

“Maybe I can catch the end. Ew, I can’t wear this,” she muttered, gingerly picking up the dress she’d worn yesterday before tossing it. What she needed was a suit of armor, but she doubted that would keep her from the seductive allure Wiley held for her.

And heaven help her, she was getting to the point where she was all right with that.

Chapter Ten

As Payton raced to get dressed, Wiley settled back against the pillows still warm from her body and watched the show. He loved seeing her like this—a little ruffled, a lot disorganized. Infinitely irresistible.

A blouse he recognized from a decade ago went flying to the floor, and he listened to her mutterings with half an ear. This was a side of Payton Pruitt the rest of the world never saw. Outwardly she showed cool competence and sedate dignity. That was the face Payton—
his
Payton—had learned to hide behind. He doubted it would ever occur to her to scramble around in a nightgown two sizes too small in front of anyone else. If he looked at it that way, that made him pretty damn special.

Was he special to her?

His smile faded as his brain stubbed its mental toe on the question. He doubted Payton would admit to any such thing, if only because she wouldn’t see it that way. He was Wiley to her, the Coyote. Someone she shouldn’t trust. And while logically she didn’t trust him, everything she did proved otherwise. She let her guard down with him in ways he’d never seen her do with anyone else. She respected him enough to give him the privilege of seeing the woman hidden inside, and she trusted him enough to take care of that woman.

So, yeah. He was special to her.

She just didn’t know it.

“I think I’ve found something.” Holding up a pair of cutoffs for critical inspection, Payton bent and slipped her feet into them. “Cross your fingers and hold your breath. These just...might...fit.”

Wiley’s mouth went desert dry as the shorts slid up a mile-long stretch of leg, only to disappear beneath the thin veil of white gown. For one clear moment he pondered how easy it would be to rip that offending gown to shreds before the supposedly enlightened side of him tut-tutted that knuckle-dragging impulse. Ripping clothes off women wasn’t supposed to be the modern man’s way of doing things.

But damn, he could all but feel the fabric tearing apart beneath his fingers.

It was amazing, how he’d gotten to his age without discovering the body-hardening allure of watching a sexy woman dress. He sure as hell was getting an education now. She was a perfect melding of challenging intellect and hot seduction, and if he didn’t get her in his bed soon, he was going to go stark raving mad.

“There.” She sent the zipper home with a grunt of satisfaction. “I think I’ll go raid my mom’s closet for a top. Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with sudden suspicion, a protective hand creeping up to her collar. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t think of a thing.”

“You look like you want to take a bite out of something.”

Funny she should mention that. “Everything’s fine, Payton.”

“You sure? You’re feeling all right?”

“I haven’t felt this good in years.” His body was on fire, his muscles vibrated with a sweet, ready-to-burst tension and his skin felt so tight he could barely manage to sit still. God, he felt great. “Do you think I need a doctor?”

“I’m not sure what you need.”

“I do.” Wiley smiled to show her how harmless he was. “Come here.”

He adored the wariness that bloomed in her eyes. “Why?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I can hear your proposition from here.”

“But it would be so much more fun to offer it to you with you curled up in my lap.”

The look she gave him could have withered plant life. “In your dreams, Coyote.”

“Payton, you have no sense of romance.”

“You mean sense of adventure. Or maybe a sense of the ridiculous,” she added with a frown before shrugging. “In any event, I’m not going near you when you’re lying on a bed.”

“Why?” The heat pooling in his lower regions was becoming impossible to ignore. “Do I tempt you?”

All traces of humor left her face. “You know you do.”

His chest constricted at the admission, and the hard throb of desire turned piercingly sweet. “Damn, woman. You do know how to get to a guy, you know that?”

“And here I was, thinking you were trying to get to me.” Her expression softened, and she sidled a little closer to the bed. “What’s your proposal?”

“I give you a lift into San Antonio.”

“Thanks, but I already have a car.”

“I can work with that.” He nodded, happy to be accommodating. “You can give me a lift into San Antonio.”

She sighed. “I’m always amazed at how impossible you can be.”

“I’m a firm believer in leading with my strengths.”

“I take it you need to go into San Antonio?”

“Exactly. So I figure we kill two birds with one stone. Once your laser surgery thing is over—if it isn’t over already,” he added with a dubious glance at his watch, “you can accompany me to Autumn House Rest Home.”

Her brows inched up. “What’s at Autumn House Rest Home?”

“Mrs. Clarissa Bimmel. She and her husband owned the property next to Carlos Xavier until Farmer’s Bank foreclosed on it two years ago. The same bank,” he added, “that foreclosed on the Xavier property.”

“Banks foreclose on properties all the time, Wiley. It’s sad but true.”

“I know. But this is Bitterthorn, a tiny town with less than a thousand people. By necessity, its staples have to be stable in order to survive. On average, Farmer’s Bank has nearly twice as many foreclosures as the other bank in town, Thorne Bank and Trust. I want to know why.”

“Maybe Farmer’s has a more relaxed policy when it comes to loans?”

“No bank is relaxed when it comes to giving money away. That holds especially true in rural communities like ours.”

“Yours,” she corrected, but her tone was absent as she considered him. “I remember years ago the Giddings family tried to get a loan when we had that terrible drought. They were turned down as a bad risk.”

“And the Giddings family is full of big strapping young men. I should know,” he added with a quick grin. “Gabriel Giddings knocked me into next Tuesday when I stole a kiss from his sister Greer.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“What you should find surprising is that men in their prime could be turned down for a loan, while people like Carlos and Clarissa, well into their golden years, are accepted.”

“And in the end, they lose their property.” Her brows drew together in a look of concentration he knew so well. “Even I can see they’d both be bad risks, something any bank would want to avoid.”

“Any normal bank, yes.”

“So what do you think is going on?”

“Why don’t you come along and help me figure it out?”

He watched her bite her lip, at war with herself, but in the end he knew which way she’d go. For all their differences, neither of them could resist a puzzle.

“All right.” With a decisive nod, she spun on her heel to flounce out of the room. “But I get to drive your car.”

* * *

“There was no need for you to wait for me.” Payton buttoned the pale yellow linen blazer she’d changed into during a brief stop at her hotel as they crossed the rest home’s parking lot. “You don’t need me along to question Mr. Xavier’s old neighbor, do you?”

“I don’t need you for the actual questioning,” he corrected, reaching for her hand as naturally as if he’d done it a thousand times before. “The truth is, I don’t know what to expect from this Clarissa Bimmel. She’s in her eighties, she lost her home and husband in quick succession a couple years ago and wound up here. I want your professional opinion on her faculties.”

She stared at their entwined hands while her stomach did an odd little somersault. “And if she is altered?”

“Then I can’t rely on anything she says, and I’ve gone down yet another dead end.”

“Hey, Wiley.” They stopped just outside the glass double doors of the rest home, her fingers tightening on his. “You’re a good man to go through all of this.”

He grimaced and his golden-hued skin turned ruddy. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“All I’m doing is looking out for my neighbors. Just like you did for Mary Lou Rodriguez yesterday.”

“I was just doing my job.”

“And getting her a private room at the hospital here in San Antonio and dropping in to see them today was also just part of your job?”

“In a way, yes.” The memory of Mary Lou and Arturo beaming over their baby daughter made her smile. “Haven’t you ever heard of follow-up visits?”

“Wow. You’re such a bad liar.” He brushed her lips with a kiss so tender it made her throat tighten with longing, before he pulled the door open for her. “You haven’t forgotten small-town ways. You’re as much a part of the community as you always were.”

“I was never a part of that community.” But even she had to admit she hadn’t thought twice when she’d been asked to help out last night. It had been as natural as...as holding Wiley’s hand, she thought, stopping beside him at the administration desk. For all her protestations, she did care about Bitterthorn.

She was just certain it didn’t care back.

After watching Wiley work his charm on the nurse at the desk, they were led to a well-maintained garden area complete with shade trees and concrete pathways wide enough for wheelchairs and walkers. The woman to whom they were shown was seated in one of these chairs, and so tiny she appeared almost childlike.

“Mrs. Bimmel?” Wiley approached with a smile, and the elderly woman’s wrinkled face turned to him in apparent surprise. “My name is Wiley Sharpe. This is my associate, Dr. Payton Pruitt. We’re from Bitterthorn, and we would like to—”

“Don’t you dare mention that putrid hellhole in my presence,” the slight bird of a woman erupted with a remarkable roar. Her myopic eyes shot fire at them, and Wiley straightened away in shock. “As far as I’m concerned, that pissant little speck on the map never produced anything good, except maybe some tasty praline ice cream at Pauline’s. It can go to hell in a hand basket for all I care, you hear?”

“Some people might consider that a tragedy,” Wiley remarked after a moment, recovering from his shock enough to shoot a wink at Payton.

Payton caught it, but she also caught Mrs. Bimmel’s pursing mouth. “Uh, Wiley—”

“Laugh at me, you snot-nosed brat, and you just might live to regret it.” Mrs. Bimmel spanked the armrest, no doubt because she couldn’t reach Wiley’s backside. “Well? Are you just going to stand there like a couple of lobotomy patients, or are you going to push me around this stupid garden? I don’t have all day and you’re both starting to bore me.”

With decidedly less humor than before, Wiley again shot Payton a glance before taking up a position behind the wheelchair. “Any particular place you’d like to go?”

“Fiji. But I’ll settle for over by the camellias. I love camellias.” Clarissa Bimmel looked to Payton, her washed-out eyes turning crafty. “Don’t you young people have anything better to do than visit strange old ladies? If I were a pretty thing like you, I know how I’d spend my time with a fella like this one, and I’ll give you a hint—I sure wouldn’t be standing upright. What the hell’s the matter with you, you got a bad case of frosty britches?”

Dear God
,
make her stop
. “There are more pressing matters that have to be dealt with, Mrs. Bimmel.”

“Hah! There’s nothing more important than a little slap and tickle each and every day.” With a cackle, she clapped her gnarled hands. “You two sweethearts?”

“No,” Payton said briefly. “We’re not.”

“We’re working on it,” Wiley said just as briefly, and met her gaze with a heat that made the Texas sun seem cool in comparison. “She’s being stubborn.”

“Hmph. I’d say a stubborn woman is exactly what you need. He’s a fresh one, honey,” she confided to Payton, her wrinkled face almost—but not quite—creasing into a smile. “Just the kind to keep your temper simmering and your bloomers steaming. Give him a spin around the bed, you’ll see what I mean.”

“Mrs. Bimmel,” Payton tried again in desperation while behind her, Wiley choked on stifled laughter. “Mr. Sharpe is representing a former neighbor of yours, a man by the name of Carlos Xavier. Do you remember him?”

“Of course I do. Old doesn’t mean senile, idiot. You’re a lawyer?” She turned to shoot Wiley a look of magnificent disgust.

He sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

“A doctor
and
a lawyer. Hell’s bells. Do you two fools realize you are exactly what this world
doesn’t
need?”

“Mrs. Bimmel, it’s very important I ask you a few questions.” Wiley’s tone was more forceful this time around. “I’m looking into the foreclosure of Carlos Xavier’s property, and I was hoping you could tell me what happened to your place two years ago.”

“Foreclosed? The Xavier place?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, no. Not another one.” Her breath caught, and once again she appeared as fragile as a bird.

Wiley brought the chair to a stop in front of the paper-white camellias. “Carlos put his place up as collateral to purchase some investment property, which didn’t pan out. According to public records, you and your husband went through very much the same thing.”

“Damned bank people talk you into loans you can’t pay, then take away everything, including your dignity.”

“The bank talked you into getting a loan?” Payton asked, eyes narrowing dubiously.

Clarissa Bimmel’s lined cheeks quivered with fury. “Don’t you look at me like I’m loony tunes, missy. That’s
exactly
what happened. They came to us, knocked right on our door with some horse crap about our great credit and our need to expand. I should’ve known it was nothing but a load of hooey when my husband was promised we’d be taken care of if we bought that awful land. We even had it in writing, but the blasted thing wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on.”

“You had what in writing?” Wiley stooped down until they were eye to eye. “Like a contract?”

“An agreement, or some such thing.” She waved a gnarled hand. “It was the deal my Jerome worked out with some fancy-pants. The deal was if the graze on the new property didn’t yield as much as expected, we could sell it back to the bank and pay the balance of the loan in low-interest installments. But it wasn’t officially witnessed, or some such hogwash,” she added with a sneer. “We lost everything because of that grazing land.”