Clay (Texas Rascals Book 11)

by Lori Wilde

  Clay parked in the dirt in front of the hitching post left over from when the residents rode horses for transportation.

  Tobie pulled in beside him and quickly hopped out.

  Molly woke, whimpering. Clay undid his seat belt and hopped out to get her from the back seat. The baby fretted, flailing her little fists.

  “Do you need help?” Tobie came to stand next to him.

  “Thanks, Dr. Avery, but I’ve got this.”

  “You sure? I can take the baby while you go get that letter from Molly’s mother giving me permission to treat her. It’s no trouble.”

  He cast a glance at her. She held out her arms, looking as if she really wanted to hold the baby.

  “I can handle my niece.” Feeling weirdly judged, Clay climbed the steps with Molly on his right hip. He stopped at the door to fumble in his pocket for the house keys.

  Molly sobbed relentlessly, right back where they started. He heard the sharp clack-clack of Dr. Avery’s high heels on the porch steps, smelled her heady violet aroma as she came up behind him.

  Tobie tapped his shoulder.

  Clay jumped, startling Molly and making her howl louder.

  “Please, stop being so stubborn and just let me hold the baby.” Reaching out, Tobie took the child from his arms.

  He stood staring at her. Their eyes met.

  A spark of something hot and forceful passed between them. Oh man, he was in over his head and sinking fast.

  The tip of her pink tongue darted out to touch her upper lip.

  Holy cow, she was feeling the same animal attraction he was. Clay could see it in the way her pupils widened and the faint trembling of her little round chin.

  “Clay,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” he murmured right back. He was so caught up in Tobie’s spell he could barely hear Molly’s fussing.

  “The letter?” Tobie said.

  “Oh yeah, that.” He got the door open and pushed it wide for Tobie to enter ahead of him. Her elbow grazed his side as she stepped by, sending a rippling quiver shooting down his flank. “I’ll get it.”

  Yes. Find the letter. Give it to her and get her out of here ASAP.

  Before he did something idiotic, like ask her out.

  Clay disappeared down the hallway, leaving Tobie standing in the living room with Molly in her arms. She glanced at her surroundings.

  Definitely a bachelor’s pad.

  Alien things like springs, hinges, and sprockets littered the coffee table along with empty cola cans and potato chip sacks. Sheet metal, welding irons, tubes, and strips of rubber were sprawled over the floor. Chips of wood, metal filings, and other debris rested on the workbench in the middle of the living room.

  The place was a workshop, not a home. It was no place for a baby.

  None of your business, Tob.

  Tobie crossed the room and sank down on the one empty sofa cushion. Molly’s head wobbled as she gazed up at Tobie. Her breath smelled of sweet milk and infancy. Her chubby cheeks were rosy red, and her pale skin felt smooth and as soft as fresh butter.

  Molly’s brown eyes widened, then she grinned, and Tobie fell instantly in love. The sharp, intense longing that zinged through her chest left her gasping.

  Oh, dear heavens, she wanted a baby! One as dear and sweet as this small girl.

  “I can’t find the note.” Clay burst back into the room. He looked harried. Brow furrowed, his hair sticking out every which way as if he’d snatched at it in despair, and his chest heaved as if he’d been running at breakneck speed. “I know it’s here somewhere. I swear Anne left me a permission note. I—”

  “Calm down,” she said. “I believe you. We’ll find it. Could it be in that pile of baby things on the kitchen counter?”

  “What?” He blinked at the kitchen. “Hmm, yes, maybe.”

  He stepped to the kitchen area of the open room and started digging through the diaper bag. Tobie trailed after him, Molly in her arms.

  Clay pulled out diapers and formula and baby clothes, mounding the items up around the bag as he dug. She was about to offer to help but remembered how defensive he’d been about letting her hold the baby, so she just kept quiet. Apparently, he preferred handling things himself.

  “Here it is!” he crowed triumphantly and held up the piece of paper.

  “That’s great.” Tobie reached out to take the letter, and her fingers lightly grazed Clay’s knuckles in the handoff.

  Instant sparks, like flint striking flint. Her pulse quickened.

  Their gazes met again, and this time held with the sticking power of superglue. Tobie sucked in her breath.

  He felt it, too!

  She recognized the telltale look in his gray eyes. He was feeling the same mighty yank of sexual attraction.

  Tobie had thought him good-looking when she’d met him in her office. But now, in the muted late afternoon sunlight pouring through the open blinds of the large windows, he was heartbreakingly handsome. From his rough unshaven jawline to the bold, rugged planes of his cheekbones, to his slightly crooked nose, this cowboy inventor exuded an untamed quality that excited her and made her want to know him better.

  Much, much better.

  Her thoughts shocked her. What was going on? She was engaged to Edward, and while they had never slept together, she was loyal to him. Her fiancé was old-fashioned and believed they should wait until their wedding night to consummate their marriage.

  Tobie found waiting for the wedding night endearing, and she’d willingly agreed. But she was engaged. She should be impervious to other men, no matter how handsome or charming they might be.

  Still, she couldn’t drag her eyes from Clay’s face.

  His lips curved upward, daring her to explore the fine contours with her fingers, her lips, her tongue. She wondered what his mouth would taste like. Sweet nectar? Sharp and salty? Or simply a hot masculine wetness? The thought drove a shudder of longing clean through her spine.

  Clay extended his arms, and for one tense moment, she thought he was reaching for her, then chagrined, she realized he wanted to take Molly. Dropping her gaze, she surrendered the baby.

  “Well,” she said, reading the permission letter before she folded it and stuck it into the pocket of her lab jacket. “I should be going.”

  “Thanks again, Dr. Avery, for all your help.” His voice sounded tight, and his smile seemed forced. Why?

  “You’re welcome. I hope Molly feels better soon.” She glanced at the baby and smiled tenderly at her. “Call me if you need anything else.”

  “I will.” Clay led her to the door.

  “Goodbye.” Tobie waved, then hurried down the stairs, her heart pounding at an alarming rate. Her hands trembled as she unlocked her car and climbed inside.

  What on earth was happening to her? She bit down on her bottom lip. Time to get back to her office and firmly put thoughts of babies and this handsome cowboy far from her mind.

  4

  “Goodnight, Tiffani.”

  “Goodnight, Dr. Avery. See you tomorrow.”

  “Be careful going home.” Tobie looked up from her desk and slid a fountain pen behind her ear.

  “Oh.” Tiffani paused. “That good-looking cowboy left his Stetson in the exam room.”

  “He did?”

  “I stuck it on the file cabinet at the front desk.”

  “Thank you so much. You can call Mr. Barton in the morning and let him know where his hat is. I’m sure he’ll be missing it. What’s a cowboy without his Stetson?” Except he’d said he was an inventor, even if he dressed the part of a cowboy and lived on a ranch.

  “Sure thing.” Tiffani grinned, hitching her purse up on her shoulder. “Don’t work too late.”

  “I’m almost finished here. I’m going out tonight.”

  “With Dr. Bennet?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Have a good time.” Tiffani headed out the back door toward the employee parking lot.

  Tobie finished her dictation, powered down he
r computer, and turned off the lights. She wandered to the waiting area to lock the front door, passing by the reception desk. She spied Clay’s black straw Stetson sitting atop the file cabinet.

  There was really no reason to ask Clay to drive back up here when he was taking care of Molly. Her appointment with Edward wasn’t until seven-thirty. It was just after five now. She could swing by the Trueblood ranch, leave Clay his Stetson, and still have plenty of time to get ready for her date.

  This isn’t just a ploy to see Clay again, is it? a suspicious voice in the back of her mind asked.

  “No way,” she mumbled out loud and shook her head. She was merely being neighborly. Rascal was a small town of fifteen thousand. People helped each other out.

  Her cell phone rang. Tobie fished it out of her purse. Edward. “Hi, hon!”

  “Hello,” Edward’s voice, so strong, solid, and reassuring, traveled the phone lines, grounding her. “Do you want me to pick you up or just meet me there?”

  “I’m sorry, Edward.” Tobie slipped off her earring and tucked the phone between her chin and shoulder. “I forgot where the benefit dinner is being held.”

  “The Dumas Hotel in Marfa.”

  Marfa was just a few miles beyond the Trueblood ranch. Perfect. Tobie picked up Clay’s Stetson. “How about I meet you there.”

  “You sure?”

  She didn’t really want to go to this thing, but it meant so much to Edward. Unfortunately, he attended two or three of these affairs a month and expected her to accompany him to each and every one. There was a definite downside to being engaged to a man so much in the political limelight.

  “I really don’t mind picking you up.”

  “It’s no trouble. In fact, this works out great. I’ve got to stop and see a patient, and her house is on the way to Marfa. Win-win.” It wasn’t a lie. She might stop by to drop off Clay’s Stetson, but she wanted to check on Molly as well and make sure she was okay.

  “Tobie,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “I’ve warned you about getting your patients accustomed to house calls. Do it once and they’ll be expecting you to come charging over in the middle of the night for every minor cough or sniffle. You’ve got to create boundaries. You’ve got to stand firm.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Edward.” She sighed. “But this will only take a few minutes.”

  “You can’t be late, sweetheart. I am the guest speaker.” His tone rubbed her the wrong way. Lately, a lot of things about Edward had been rubbing her the wrong way. “Don’t keep me waiting in the parking lot.”

  “I tell you what, why don’t you just go on ahead, and I’ll see you when I get there.”

  “What? I can’t walk into the building without an escort!” He sounded as if she’d just suggested he stroll naked into the crowded room. Sometimes Edward could be quite stuffy about proper etiquette. “Why don’t you skip that house call, and I’ll come pick you up.”

  He wanted her to set boundaries? Then she’d set one. “I’ll meet you there, Edward,” she said firmly, but then added in a gentler tone, “That way you won’t have to come across town to pick me up. I’ll be there in time, so you don’t have to walk in alone.”

  “Well.” He paused. “I suppose that might work out for the best.”

  “See you at seven-thirty at the Dumas Hotel in Marfa.”

  “Make it seven-fifteen. I like to get in and get settled before things begin.”

  Tobie glanced at the time on her phone. Five-twenty. Thirty minutes to Clay’s cabin, then another fifteen minutes to Marfa from his place. More than enough time to meet Edward at seven-fifteen, although it didn’t give her time to go to her place and change. Tobie glanced down at her clothing. Professional attire, not evening wear, but it would have to do.

  “I’ll be there,” she said.

  “See you then.”

  They said goodbye and hung up. Tobie put on her earrings, collected her purse and Clay’s Stetson. A tight schedule was good. She wouldn’t have time to linger at Clay’s place.

  The sun hung low in the sky as she drove to the Trueblood ranch. She pulled to a stop in front of the cabin. It looked just as it had when she’d left it earlier that afternoon.

  Holding his Stetson in one hand, she got out, climbed the porch steps, and knocked on the front door.

  When there wasn’t an immediate answer, she almost left. Gathering her courage, she knocked again. If he doesn’t answer within fifteen seconds, I’ll go, she told herself.

  Fourteen…

  Thirteen…

  Ten…

  She hauled in a breath. Five seconds.

  Four…

  Two…

  That was it; she was out of here.

  At that moment the door flung inward. Clay stood there shirtless, wearing only a pair of snug-fitting Wranglers.

  Tobie hitched in her breath at the sight of his firm, well-muscled chest. Even his bare feet looked delicious. Hubba-hubba. Obviously, the man worked out a lot. His hair stuck out in all directions as if he’d been repeatedly raking his fingers through it.

  He stared at her and blinked. “Dr. Avery?”

  “I brought your Stetson.” She offered him a timid smile and extended the cowboy hat. “You left it in my exam room.”

  “Thank God you’re here.” Ignoring the Stetson, he grabbed her elbow and tugged her inside.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He didn’t have to answer; Tobie heard Molly’s deep, racking sobs.

  “I gave her some of that medicine you prescribed, and it worked for a little while. She even slept an hour, and I was napping along with her. but then a few minutes ago, she woke up crying again. Dr. Avery, I’m desperate. I don’t know what to do!”

  Her heart went out to him. The poor man left all alone with a baby that wasn’t his. She peeled off her lab jacket and draped it over the back of his sofa. Following the sound of Molly’s cries, she went down the hall and into the bedroom.

  Molly stood in a Pack ’n Play that served as her crib, her little hands gripping the sides so tightly her knuckles were white. Tears streamed down her face. She wore footed pajamas, and her fuzzy mussed curls mirrored Clay’s frustrated hairdo.

  “There, there,” Tobie cooed, moving to the Pack ’n Play and lifting Molly into her arms. “You miss your mommy, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  Clay stood in the doorway behind her, his arms folded across that magnificent chest, his head cocked to one side as he studied them.

  Tobie gulped and looked away, purposefully focusing all her attention on the baby. Cradling Molly, Tobie hummed a lullaby.

  The child quieted almost instantly.

  “It’s tough,” she murmured, “for a little one to be away from her mommy.”

  “Even tougher on me,” Clay grumbled. “I feel useless.”

  “Oh, no.” Tobie shook her head. “You’re doing a fine job.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Much better than most. Few men would even agree to keep a nine-month-old for an hour, much less overnight. Your sister is a lucky woman.”

  Their gazes met.

  Tobie noticed his eyes had turned a darker shade of gray, more steel-colored now in this light, but not at all harsh. Her glance trailed down his face, caught and paused at his mouth.

  She wondered what it would feel like to have those lips on hers. Would he kiss like Edward? Solid, perfunctory? Or would his kisses be wilder, more freewheeling? Would they be long and lingering? Honeyed and sultry? Tobie gulped at the warm, melting sensation in her stomach.

  His cell phone buzzed, shattering the moment.

  He looked at his phone. “I’ll take this in the other room,” he said and disappeared down the hall.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tobie crooned to the baby. “You just wanted someone soft to hold you, didn’t you, darling?”

  Molly stuck her fist in her mouth and gnawed.

  “Are you hungry? Bet old Uncle Clay doesn’t know how often to feed a baby, does he? Come on, s
ugarfoot, let’s go find some food.”

  The affection she felt for this baby surprised Tobie. She worked with children all day long and had never felt anything quite like this maternal stirring. Maybe it had something to do with the fact she’d just turned twenty-nine. Or maybe these feelings had started two weeks ago when Edward had told her he wanted no more children.

  Because of her intense drive to become a doctor, Tobie had planned to postpone motherhood until her thirties. She’d wanted to establish her practice before she took time off to raise a family. But deep in her heart, she’d always wanted children. Then Edward had sprung his decision upon her. She’d kept hoping it was a negotiable issue. She was sure she could change his mind.

  Tobie wandered into the kitchen to find Clay leaning against the cabinet, one bare foot lightly resting on the other, the phone tucked into the crevice between his ear and chin. “Yes, Anne, Molly’s doing fine.”

  Tobie raised her eyebrows at him.

  He shrugged, and silently mouthed, I don’t want to panic her. “No. Don’t you worry about a thing here. I’m handling things. Yes. Right. Now you get some rest, too. Yes. No. Goodbye.” Clay switched off his phone and tucked it into his back pocket.

  “Jeez.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Holt’s mom isn’t doing well. They had to put her in ICU overnight. Looks like Holt and Anne will have to stay longer than they thought.”

  “Is that why you didn’t tell her about Molly?” Tobie asked, opening the refrigerator and looking for baby formula. She spied a can and placed it on the counter.

  “What was I supposed to say? Oh, Anne, while you’re agonizing over your mother-in-law, I’m losing my mind here with your daughter. I don’t know if I can survive this temporary fatherhood gig.”

  “Here,” Tobie said. She pulled a can of beer off the six-pack from the fridge and tossed it to him. Watching Molly had taken a toll on Clay. “Go sit down, turn on the TV, and put your feet up. Relax. Oh, yeah, and put on a shirt while you’re at it.”

  He grinned. “Does my manly chest bother you?”

  “No,” she lied. Hot and bothered was more like it. “I don’t want you to catch a cold. Then who would take care of Molly?”