by Linda Turner
Shocked, she stiffened and turned quickly away to the bar, desperately praying that he couldn't read her thoughts in her eyes. What in the world was wrong with her? she thought wildly. It hadn't been all that long ago that she'd been prepared to promise before God and her family and friends that she would love and honor Thomas all the days of her life. And now, just a little over a month later, she was already thinking about another man. And not just any man, but Nick, for heaven's sake! All because of a simple, innocent kiss.
There was nothing simple about that kiss and you know it, Merideth Sara McBride! a voice in her head retorted sternly. If you want to pretend to Nick that you were unaffected so you can protect your heart, that's one thing, but don't you dare lie to yourself. If you'd been more honest with yourself about the kind of man Thomas was, instead of insisting on seeing him as the kind of man you wanted him to be, you'd have saved yourself a lot of heartache.
Unable to deny the truth of that, she had no choice but to admit to herself that there'd been nothing innocent about the kiss she and Nick had shared. He'd rocked her world, and try though she might, she couldn't forget it. Or him. Without quite knowing how it had happened, he'd taken control of her every waking thought, and for the life of her, she didn't know what to do about it.
"Hey, there you are!" Stella spied her then and gave her a bear hug. "Where have you been? I stopped by the clinic a couple of times to see you, but you were always gone." Pulling back, she studied her worriedly. "Are you okay? The whole town's talking about Thomas and how he's trying to buy you back with flowers and pearls and fancy necklaces. You're not falling for that malarkey, are you? Because if you are, somebody needs to shake some sense into you, and I'm just the one to do it!"
Merry had to laugh. Stella had never had any trouble speaking her mind. The family usually ran for cover when they saw her coming, but Merry admired her honesty. You always knew where you stood with Stella. "I haven't seen any pearls or necklaces yet, but he did send me a bouquet just like the one I had for the wedding."
Outraged, Stella gasped, "Why, that insensitive clod! I hope you sent it back to him in pieces!"
"Well, actually, I sent it to his mother at the hospital," she admitted. "He wasn't too pleased."
"So tell him to get in line. You weren't too thrilled with him when he cut out on you at the wedding, either. The worm. I half expected him to be here tonight."
Merry had, too. Before Thomas had jilted her and run back to Chicago, he'd seldom missed a Wednesday night at Tiny's. He was a crackerjack pool player—but not as good as Nick. And that had always eaten at him. He'd never liked to lose, and every time Nick had walked in the door, Thomas had challenged him. And that was when he and Nick had been friends. He had even more reason to challenge him now.
But there was no sign of him, and Merry was glad of it. She just wanted a nice peaceful evening with no hassles. "He's probably at the hospital with his mother. I thought she'd be home by now, but apparently she's had a setback."
"Yeah, and it's named Thomas," Stella retorted, then had the grace to blush when Merry gave her a reproving look. "Okay, so that was tacky. I don't like him. I always thought he was spoiled and thoughtless and not good enough for you, and he proved me right. Now that I've said my piece, how about a game of eight-ball? I'll spot you five."
Anyone else would have been insulted by such a suggestion, but Merry knew her limits. She was notoriously bad at pool and seldom made a game of it if she was spotted less. "Five, huh?" she considered, grinning. "You're on."
* * *
Merry couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a good time. She actually beat Stella at eight-ball, then had the satisfaction of at least holding her own with Nick when he challenged her. She'd been afraid that he would somehow treat her differently in front of their friends now that he'd kissed her, but he was the same old Nick he'd always been. He teased her, but he teased all the women in the group, just as he always did, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary between them.
But he was as aware of her as she was of him, and without saying a word, they flirted with each other with their eyes, sending silent messages back and forth that no one but they could see. And she loved it. She'd never played that kind of game with him before, and she felt like she was sixteen again. She wanted to laugh, to flirt, to tempt him to do something outrageous, and part of the fun was that no one else knew. They were playing with fire and enjoying every second of it. She'd never had so much fun in her life.
Totally absorbed in each other, neither of them saw Thomas walk in. But Stella had eyes like a hawk and immediately stiffened. "Uh-oh, here comes trouble," she mumbled. "Damn! And we were having such a good time."
Alarmed, Merry lifted her head like a deer scenting danger and spied Thomas immediately. Already weaving through the crowd toward them, he looked like he'd had a rough day. His hair was mussed, his face unshaven, his cheeks flushed. But it was the belligerent set of his jaw and the unsteady way he walked that had dread spilling into her gut. Thomas didn't drink very often and seldom got drunk, but when he did, he almost always wanted to fight.
"He's been drinking," she told Nick quietly.
"If he thinks he's going to start a fight in here, he can think again," Nick said grimly as he handed her his pool cue. "Stay here. I'll handle this."
Merry would have liked nothing better than to stand back and play the helpless female to Nick's John Wayne, but she couldn't. That wasn't who she was. She didn't run from trouble, especially trouble that she felt partly responsible for. Thomas wouldn't be spoiling for a fight right now with Nick, who'd been his best friend for decades, if it hadn't been for her. So without a word, she handed both her pool cue and Nick's to Stella, and pushed her way through the crowd that was already starting to gather around Thomas and Nick.
"You backstabbing son of a bitch! You turned Merry against me."
"I didn't have to," Nick said quietly as someone pulled the plug on the jukebox and the entire pool hall went silent as a tomb. "You did that all by yourself. Now, why don't we take this outside—"
"The hell I will! I'm not going anywhere, damn you! You did this. You sweet-talked her and ran me down behind my back, and now you're trying to say it's my fault?! Some friend you are. I ought to beat the hell out of you—"
Fury transforming his face into that of a man Merry didn't recognize, he took a threatening step toward Nick, but that was as far as he got. Under the best of conditions, he had a tough time holding his own with Nick physically. Drunk, he didn't stand a chance. Before he could so much as blink, Nick grabbed him, spun him around and shoved his arm up between his shoulder blades. Helpless, Thomas could do nothing but stand there, cursing like a sailor.
Nick, to his credit, kept his temper under control. His jaw like granite, he leaned close and growled in his ear, "You're not going to beat the hell out of anyone. You hear me? You so much as make a move toward me or anyone else in here and you'll spend the rest of the night cooling your heels in jail. Do I make myself clear?" When Thomas only glared at him, he shoved his arm a little higher up his back. "What was that? I didn't hear you."
Standing at the edge of the crowd, her heart in her throat, Merry wanted to kick Thomas when he stubbornly clamped his teeth shut, refusing to say a word. "Damn you, Thomas, try not to be any more of an idiot than you already are!" she snapped. "You can't win this one. Give it up."
For a minute, she actually thought he was going to make Nick arrest him. He hesitated, defiance obvious in every line of his stiff body, refusing to back down so much as an inch. Then, just when Nick started to pull out his handcuffs, he reluctantly admitted defeat. "All right," he said grudgingly. "I won't cause any trouble."
Nick slowly released him, but he didn't drop his guard so much as an inch. "I think it'd be better for everyone if you left," he said curtly. "Tiny's not going to serve you any beer since you're already drunk, and you're not in the mood for a friendly game of pool. There's nothing here for you."
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He had enough friends in the crowd that if he'd showed the least sign of remorse, someone would have stepped forward and suggested they let bygones be bygones. But in the tense silence, no one said a word in Thomas's defense, and he had no one to blame but himself. He'd acted like a jerk.
Still, he wasn't giving up without saying what he'd come there to say. "I'll leave—for now. But don't make the mistake of thinking I'm going to go back to Chicago and leave you a clear field with Merry," he told Nick. "She's mine. She always has been and always will be. You stay away from her."
All around them, people gasped, but Nick didn't so much as blink. "Merry's her own person and doesn't belong to anyone but herself. The only way I'll stay away from her is if she tells me to, and she's not doing that." His point made by Merry's very silence, he nodded toward the door. "Go on and get out of here. You've worn out your welcome."
Fury blazing in his eyes, he left, but only because he had no other choice. The hard look he shot Nick before he stormed out, however, warned him that he may have won this round, but the fight was far from over.
For what seemed like an eternity, no one moved after the door slammed behind him. Mortified, Merry just stood there, heat climbing in her cheeks as all eyes seemed to turn on her. Then just when she thought she couldn't bear the speculative looks another moment, someone had the foresight—or kindness—to plug the jukebox back in. A Faith Hill song flooded the pool hall, breaking the spell that had fallen over the crowd with Thomas's first angry words. People turned back to their dancing and drinks and pool as if nothing had ever happened.
"Are you all right?" Nick asked quietly.
Flanked by him on one side and Stella on the other, Merry couldn't remember the last time she'd been so embarrassed. "Oh, yeah," she retorted sarcastically. "Other than needing a hole to crawl into, I'm just peachy-keen. Dammit, I can't believe he did that!"
"I can," Stella retorted. "His mother spoiled him rotten and taught him to believe that he was entitled to anything he wanted. Now he's decided he wants you again, and you're not cooperating, so he's acting like a jackass."
"He never could stand to lose," Nick added grimly. "At checkers or football or women."
They were describing a man Merry hadn't suspected existed, a selfish, self-centered egomaniac who treated life like it was a game. And if he couldn't win, he was going to sulk and pout and act like a bratty toddler until you let him have his way. "So I'm just another game to him," she said, hurt. "Is that what you're saying? That he pursued me because he just didn't want anyone else to have me?"
The truth hit her then, and before Nick could so much as open his mouth, she answered her own question. "Of course he didn't. That's why he didn't marry me. My God, that's it!" she said, stunned. "I was the prize, the trophy that he thought he wanted badly enough to marry. But when push came to shove, he couldn't bring himself to go quite that far. He quit the game and went home, but now that someone else is showing an interest, he wants to play again."
All this time, she'd thought it was her he loved, but the only things he'd really loved was the thrill of the win. And the win became all the sweeter if you could pull it off when your competitor was someone you respected and feared.
"I feel like a fool," she said hollowly. "I should have seen this years ago."
"You loved him," Stella replied simply. "And you believed in him. Don't beat yourself up for that. But now that you can see him for what he really is, don't let him worm his way into your good graces and hurt you again, either. He doesn't love anyone as much as he loves himself, and he never will. As long as you remember that, you'll be okay."
"You don't have to worry," Merry assured her grimly. "That's not going to happen."
* * *
After the fiasco at Tiny's, Merry promised herself she was going to avoid Thomas at all cost, but in a town the size of Liberty Hill, that proved to be next to impossible. Word had gotten out about the fight he tried to start with Nick, and everywhere Merry went over the course of the next few days, people could talk of nothing else. Some thought it was daring and romantic, and more than a few wanted to know when she was going to put that boy out of his misery and take him back. Appalled at the idea of discussing her private life in public, she was left with no choice but to squash that rumor in the bud. That, she assured anyone who asked, was never going to happen.
But Thomas seemed to be one step ahead of her with the rumors and told anyone who cared to listen that it was only a matter of time before she forgave him and took him back. Frustrated, she called his mother's house to tell him to back off, but all she got was the answering machine. Then she ran into Becca Ryan at the grocery store and learned that Thomas had called her to discuss flowers for their second wedding. What was left of her patience snapped. She was not going to let him do this to her!
More angry than she could ever remember being, she stormed over to the hospital, determined to wait outside his mother's room all day if she had to until he showed up so she could give him a piece of her mind. But when she reached Maxine Cooper's room, Thomas was already inside talking to his mother.
"Can you believe he cheated like that, Mother? Just took advantage of the fact that I was in Chicago and moved in on Merry like she was fair game?"
Stopping short at the sound of her name, Merry quickly stepped back out of sight in the hall. She knew she should have announced her presence—she'd never eavesdropped in her life—but she couldn't bring herself to do that. Not yet. After the way Thomas had acted at Tiny's and the things he was saying around town, she had a right to know what his next move was.
"I never was happy about your friendship with him," Maxine said in a superior voice that grated on Merry's nerves. "His father was nothing but a cowboy. Not that there's anything wrong with that," she quickly amended, "but breeding and education tell, and his parents didn't have either, God rest their souls. Which is why you can't expect him to play by the same rules a gentleman would. So you have to lower yourselves to his standards and fight fire with fire if you want Merry. That's the only thing people like Nick Kincaid understand."
"I do want her, Mother," he assured her grimly. "I don't care what I have to do, I won't lose her to Nick."
Her worst fears confirmed, Merry literally saw red. How dare they! Outraged, she wanted to storm inside and rake both Thomas and his mother over the coals, but Maxine, unfortunately, couldn't be held accountable for her own participation in this stupid game Thomas was playing. She was too ill and in no shape for any kind of confrontation.
Thomas, however, was another matter. He had a lot to answer for.
Tempted to march in right then and there and demand an explanation, she had to force herself to draw in a deep breath and take a second to relax. She would not, she promised herself, lose her cool! If she was going to find a way to get through that thick head of Thomas's, she had to keep a tight rein on her temper and remain calm. She wasn't a violent woman. As much as she'd like the satisfaction of ripping into him, she couldn't take him apart at the seams. But oh, she wanted to!
When she walked through the door into Maxine's private room a few minutes later, she was totally in control of her emotions. But there was a hard promise of trouble in her blue eyes that anyone who knew her well would have recognized immediately. And Thomas knew her well.
Still whining to his mother, he glanced up, took one look at her, and paled. To his credit, he recovered quickly and turned to her with a delighted smile, but Merry wasn't fooled. She had him running scared, and it was no more than the rat deserved.
"Merry! I wasn't expecting to see you this afternoon. Mother and I were just talking about you."
"Were you really?" she said coolly. "So that's why my ears were burning."
Surprised, he laughed shakily. "Don't be silly, darling. It wasn't anything derogatory. Mother was just saying how much she hoped you would be her daughter-in-law one day. With her health the way it is, though, she's not sure that's ever going to happen. Which is why I think we
should reschedule the wedding as quickly as possible," he continued smoothly. "It's crazy for us to be apart like this when we love each other."
Stunned, Merry couldn't believe his audacity. Did he really think that just because his mother was listening to every word that she was going to meekly fall into line and take him back? "I think it would be best if we talked about that in private," she retorted. "Now!"
"Oh, but Mother—"
"This won't take long," Merry assured Maxine. "You don't mind, do you? We really do need to talk and we haven't had much time alone."
Put that way, there was little the older woman could say, not after the way Thomas had just portrayed her. "Of course not," Maxine said with a grimace of a smile. "You two do need some time together. And I'll be fine by myself. It's been a tiring day and I need to rest."
Sold out by his mother, Thomas had no choice but to reluctantly follow Merry into the hall. "I can't be gone long," he began the second he pulled the door to his mother's room shut so they wouldn't disturb her. "Mother shouldn't be alone—"
"Trust me. This won't take a minute," Merry retorted in a low voice that wouldn't carry down the hospital corridor. "I heard you've been talking to Becca Ryan—"
"That was supposed to be a surprise!"
"Oh, it's a surprise, all right!" she hissed. "A very unpleasant one. And when were you going to tell me that we were getting married? A couple of hours before the wedding so I'd have time to make myself pretty for you?"
Pale, he winced as each word struck him like a dart. "C'mon, Merry, you know I'd never do that."
Unable to believe that he could say such a thing to her with a straight face, she could only look at him in amazement. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, dammit! I don't know you. I'm beginning to wonder if I ever did. The man I thought I knew and loved would have never left me standing at the altar, but that's exactly what you did."
