Sweet Talk

by Jackie Merritt

  “You’re some kind of expert on the subject now?” Reed said dryly.

  “Sort of,” Derek answered with an amused glint in his dark eyes.

  Their banter on the subject of women went back and forth, then it was time for dinner. That was when they discussed Derek’s law practice and Reed’s diverse interests. Derek was impressed that his old pal was Rumor’s fire chief, and he listened intently while Reed related the details of the summer’s destructive forest fire.

  They lingered over coffee for hours and talked about everything that had happened to each of them from college graduation to the present. The dining room began closing at eleven, and Reed noticed Derek yawning.

  “This has been great, Derek.” He got to his feet. “Any chance of your coming back to Billings anytime soon?”

  “Who knows? If I do, I’ll let you know. Do you ever get to the East Coast?”

  “Not for years.”

  “Well, if you ever do…”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Derek walked Reed out to his SUV. They shook hands and said goodbye. Reed drove away feeling nostalgic and quietly content. The evening had been great. Derek had matured, as Reed had. They still enjoyed the same kind of humor and thought alike on a variety of subjects.

  But Derek was happily married, and Reed wasn’t even close. Dust off your sense of humor and make her laugh.

  “Hmm,” Reed murmured, his eyes on the highway ahead. Maybe it was worth a try, even though Val didn’t strike him as a woman who laughed a lot. Of course, considering her recent health problems, she had damn good reason for not giggling at every little thing.

  Truth was, though, Reed couldn’t recall ever having seen or heard her giggling. Nor could he imagine Dr. Valerie Fairchild doing any giggling. She wasn’t the giggling type. If and when she laughed, it would undoubtedly be a pleasant, throaty sound. He really would love to hear it.

  And maybe he had an idea that would at least bring a smile to her beautiful lips.

  Reed swallowed hard. He would rather kiss Val’s luscious lips than see a smile on them.

  But first things first. Smiles were immeasurably valuable in a hundred ways and certainly crucial to a close relationship. If he could get her to smile, to laugh, then things might fall into place for them. It definitely was worth a try.

  On Saturday morning Val and Jim were both busy. People and pets were coming and going, and Val was functioning as she used to, full speed ahead and enjoying her work. Things slowed down around noon, and she went to her office to eat the lunch that Estelle had brought over from the house.

  Jim was dubious about his and Estelle’s plans to leave early, but Val reassured him. “I’m certain the rush is over. Thanks for being here on a weekend. In fact, I’m going to lock the doors behind you and enjoy my lunch. If anyone comes along this afternoon, they’ll have to ring the bell. It’s time I got some of that stacked-up paperwork done.”

  After the Worths left, Val sat at her desk feeling relatively content. Lunch was good, and she looked through the pile of letters, trade journals and advertisements overflowing her In basket while she ate. Until the unknown cost of those delivered groceries from MonMart nagged at her. She pondered her options and grimaced at the idea of phoning MonMart and then talking to a dozen different people while they tried to pinpoint one particular grocery order and who had paid for it. If anyone had paid for it, actually. Maybe MonMart had some sort of slush fund for miscellaneous charitable expenses, she mused. It made a certain amount of sense, but she didn’t want to be considered a charity case, especially not when one considered the ridiculous circumstances that had caused her to leave behind her cartful of food.

  In fact, it was such a distasteful idea that she quickly got out her checkbook and began writing a check. But what amount should she send MonMart? Food didn’t come cheap, and five large paper sacks had been delivered. Twenty dollars per sack? Twenty-five?

  She decided on the higher figure, added on another twenty-five dollars to make sure, and wrote the check for 150.00. Intent on getting this done now that she’d made up her mind, she addressed an envelope, wrote a brief note explaining the check, and put both in the envelope. After stamping it, she took it and went outside to the mailbox on the curb in front of the Animal Hospital.

  She was glad to have that behind her, and she’d just started up the walk to the clinic when a vehicle drove in and stopped in the customer parking area. It took only a second for her to recognize Reed Kingsley’s SUV, and another second for her heart to start pounding in a ridiculously female fashion.

  She gritted her teeth. Getting silly over a man was not on her agenda. It was never going to be on her agenda, and maybe today was the day to tell Mr. Kingsley to stop wasting his time in plain language…very plain language.

  She hurried inside and cursed her bad timing. If she hadn’t gone to the mailbox at the exact moment she had, then Kingsley would not have known she was on the premises. She could have ignored his arrival completely, for when someone rang the bell at either the dog or cat entrance, she could check on who was out there before letting him or her in.

  Feeling strangely weak, she leaned against a wall and waited for one of the bells to ring. This weakness was nothing like those chemo-related spells, she realized, and she stood there in her white lab jacket and jeans and told herself that she was not weak in the knees because of a man.

  But it was a lie, she knew, and she didn’t like it one damn bit.

  The cat doorbell rang, and even though Val had been expecting the sound, it made her jump.

  “You damn fool,” she muttered under her breath as she made her way to the door, unlocked and opened it. There, looking sober and serious, with nary a silly grin in sight, stood Reed Kingsley, dressed in great-looking jeans, boots, a royal-blue shirt and a dark leather vest. He was holding a cardboard box, from which came the unmistakable mews of very young kittens.

  Val evolved from aggravated female to competent veterinarian. “Come in,” she said, and swung the door wide for Reed to enter.

  He lowered the box a little so she could see its cargo. Val saw two tiny orange tabby kittens. “They’re less than two months old,” she said. “Whose are they? Where’s the mother?”

  “They belonged to one of the ranch hands. Their mother disappeared—she was a barn cat—along with a third kitten, about a week ago. Rafe thinks she was in the process of moving her kits, carrying one in her mouth, and got caught by a coyote. They are always a danger to cats and small dogs.”

  “Yes, they are. Well, what are you doing with them?”

  “Rafe’s been bottle-feeding these two, but he’d just as soon get rid of them, and he’s adamant about not spending any money on shots or neutering or anything else that might cost a buck.”

  “Yes, well, some people feel that way, especially about barn cats. Why did you bring them to me?”

  “Because I’ve adopted them, and I’m more than willing to pay for whatever you can do that will guarantee their good health.”

  “I can administer the recommended shots and procedures for young cats, but I can’t guarantee their good health. No one can do that.”

  Reed thought of her personal fight for good health and felt a massive amount of admiration for her spunk. He was admiring her incredible eyes, as well, and her sensual mouth. She was an unusually pretty woman, and being this near to her was so pleasurable he wished he could take up residence right here in her animal clinic so he could see her all the time.

  “You’re right, of course,” he said quietly, surprised that he could speak so softly when the sound of his heartbeat pumping blood through his veins was almost deafening. “But I would appreciate your examining them and making sure they’re healthy now.”

  “Follow me.” Val walked off at a brisk pace, deeply unnerved over something he couldn’t have dreamed up. But maybe he had. Maybe he’d scoured the countryside for young kittens as an excuse to see her. Was his story about how he’d come by the two adorable k
ittens even remotely true? She didn’t trust Reed Kingsley, she decided again as she led him into an examining room. Why on earth would she?

  Then again, the man seemed perfectly trustworthy. She might even like him as a person if he hadn’t been coming on so strong since…since— Good Lord, had all of this folderol started last spring at Joe’s Bar, when she dropped her quarters?

  She sighed inwardly, put on an expressionless face and picked up one of the kittens. It was so small it fit into the palm of one hand, and since she adored kittens to begin with, her entire demeanor became softer from holding this one’s warm little body.

  Still, she was a vet, and she began doing her job. “This one’s a male,” she said evenly, refusing to look directly at Kingsley, whose stare seemed to be boring holes through her skin. Could he be any more obvious?

  “And this kitten is also male,” she said, after examining the second one. She weighed them and looked into their mouths and ears. “They both appear to be healthy.” She recited a list of the shots they should have to avoid illness. “And I highly recommend neutering. Adding to the unwanted pet population is terribly negligent. Also, if you intend for these babies to be house cats, then declawing is something you should consider. One guarantee I can give you is that they will rip curtains, furniture and anything else to shreds. Of course, if they’re going to be barn cats, then they should keep their claws for protection.”

  “They’re sure cute little things, aren’t they?” Reed said.

  Val sent him a quick glance. For once he wasn’t staring at her. Rather, he was watching the adorable kittens exploring the examination table.

  “They’re precious,” she agreed. She loved cats and dogs of all ages, but youngsters such as these were undeniably special. Thinking of that, she actually forgot about the predatory qualities of the man in the room. “Have you seen them playing yet?”

  “Not really. I only picked them up this morning.”

  “Well, let’s see how advanced they are.” She got a piece of string from a counter drawer and held it in front of the nearest kitten. The darling thing lifted a tiny paw and tried to catch it, falling on his nose in the process.

  Val laughed. “He’s not quite steady on his feet yet.”

  Hearing her laugh—his goal today—was so thrilling for Reed that he laughed, as well. “Do you have more string?” he asked.

  “Sure do.” Val got him a piece and they both played with the kittens.

  Val seemed genuinely enthralled with the baby cats, but Reed was a lot more enthralled with her, though he had to admit the kittens were exceptionally cute and a lot of fun. He honestly hadn’t gone there to make a pass, but it was the first time that he’d ever seen Val so relaxed and friendly. And before he thought about it, he leaned over the examining table and pressed his lips to hers.

  Too stunned to react, Val stood there and let him kiss her…for about five seconds. Then she backed up with her eyes blazing. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked in a voice he would never mistakenly call friendly.

  Reed felt so alive from that one brief kiss that he couldn’t help grinning. “I think I was kissing you, and a fine kiss it was, if I do say so myself.”

  “A fine kiss? You…you jerk! Get your ass out of my building—now!”

  “Why are you so hostile over one little kiss?”

  “I’m not hostile over one little kiss, you cretin, I’m hostile over you, period! Aren’t you ever going to get the message that I don’t like you? That I want nothing to do with you?”

  Reed held up his forefinger. “I have a theory. I don’t think that the strong feelings a man has for a woman can all be one-sided. Let me take that another step. What I’ve been feeling because of you—”

  “Don’t you dare!” Val shouted, interrupting what she was positive was going to be something she didn’t want to hear.

  “You’re not really as angry as you sound, are you?”

  “I’m furious! I want you to leave, to take your two tiny excuses for coming here and get out of my life! Could I speak any plainer? Or maybe you just need repetition for something to fully register. Fine, I’ll stand here and repeat it for an hour, if that’s what it takes. Go! Leave! Box your kittens and get the hell out of my face!”

  Reed shook his head almost sadly. “You’re a hard woman. I thought we were getting along, but we really weren’t, were we? You let down your guard because of the kittens. I had nothing to do with it.”

  Val’s fury had drained her. Shrieking wasn’t her style, never had been. He shouldn’t have kissed her, and, my God, she shouldn’t have liked the sensation of his mouth on hers. But it had happened, and now she just wanted it to go away, all of it—Kingsley and his kittens, plus a kiss she hadn’t expected and wished passionately had never taken place.

  “Leave when you want,” she said, hearing the unsteadiness in her voice. She walked out of the examining room and left Reed to find his own way out of the building. About two minutes later, from her office, she heard the opening and closing of an outside door.

  He was gone. “Good,” she said out loud, then put her arms on the desk, her head on her arms and had a good cry.

  She never did figure out the reason for her overwhelming need to weep buckets, except that it had something to do with a kiss that never should have happened.

  Chapter Five

  On Saturday night Reed sat in the bleachers at the high school with several hundred other football fans and watched the Rumor Rangers play the Whitehorn Wildcats. Last year the Rangers hadn’t done very well, though no one could say they hadn’t put their hearts into every game. This year was different. The Rangers were ahead in the league by three games, and the town was so behind them, so supportive and proud of its high school team, that turnouts for the games were huge.

  Reed sat among dozens of boisterous friends. They drank cold sodas and hot cocoa, and filled up on hot dogs and popcorn. They laughed and teased and joked and shouted encouragement to their team of young players. They even applauded when the Wildcats made a good play, although there was little doubt as to which team was their favorite.

  Of course, Whitehorn had a respectable fan attendance, too. A good one-third of the bleachers was filled with Wildcat supporters. It was a friendly rivalry and great fun.

  Usually it was great fun. Reed’s black mood—extremely unusual for a man who had grown up with a smile for almost every situation and person—made it hard for him to participate fully in the tomfoolery and laughter all around him. Driving away from Val’s Animal Hospital that afternoon, he’d finally faced and admitted unconditional defeat. Sure, she’d kissed him back for about two seconds, and no, he’d probably never again kiss lips that sweet, but she had said straight out that she didn’t like him, then she’d kicked him out of her building. She had obviously meant what she’d said, and he didn’t intend to keep proving to Valerie Fairchild that he was a lovesick fool.

  Today’s confrontation had been the end for him. The vow seemed to be stuck in his mind, and he was glad it was, because if it slipped just an iota he started thinking of Val in ways that would get him another black eye…symbolically speaking, of course.

  Still, he couldn’t help wondering why a woman with Val’s looks and intelligence didn’t have a man. Surely he wasn’t the only guy in Rumor who’d noticed her. There had to be others who had been shot down while trying to get past that iron-clad guard of hers. Of course, they might not have been quite as tenacious as he’d been, which could be the reason he’d never heard any gossip about Doc. But she was too unique for men besides himself not to have noticed.

  “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath. Leave it alone. Leave her alone! You’re having fun tonight! Are you so far gone on a woman who loathes the sight of you that you can’t even enjoy a football game? Or being with friends?

  Reed tried to look like one of the merry fans—deviant behavior for him because he was always part of the football crowd, and without having to try to be, to b
oot. Tonight he numbly watched the game. His mind was fuzzy, and he saw his teenage self on that field instead of the stocky young men who were actually running plays. He had loved the game, loved being on the team, loved being part of something that moved the whole town. In high school, he had been in the middle of everything, and he’d lived the same way ever since—actively involved.

  Bottom line: he had always loved life. Now he had reason to believe that he’d missed the boat somewhere along the line. Almost everyone he knew was married, or at least paired with someone special. He could have a dozen dates with a dozen different women by making a dozen phone calls, and the only woman he wanted to spend time with couldn’t stand the sight of him. Something was terribly wrong with that picture.

  At the Fairchild house, Val was already settled in for the night. Her bedroom was equipped with a large television set, positioned for perfect viewing from her bed. She almost always went to bed early and turned on the TV. There were a few weekly shows that she actually watched—she avoided the popular news programs as reports about worldwide misery always depressed her—and an occasional movie caught her eye. But mostly, she kept the volume down and read. Her evenings were quiet and calming. She did a lot of her best thinking while staring blankly at the TV screen or at the pages of a book.

  Tonight she was deeply troubled, and neither the current television program nor the book on her lap offered any comfort. She had behaved badly today with Reed Kingsley, and while she was still upset with him, she was even more upset with herself. The same thing had happened at MonMart when he’d pulled that big rescue scene with her. Maybe she had a right to tell him to back off, but this yelling business had to stop. Her temper was developing a hair trigger, and she was embarrassing herself—far more than anyone else ever could.