"We gotta head back."
Lily reined in.
"Is this that 'busy' thing?"
He raised a brow at her. Lily might have been his best friend, but he wasn't about to lay out everything for her. She could be as perceptive as Nan and there was no way he could handle two nosy women sniffing in his business.
"Maybe."
"Date with Layla Sullivan?"
Well how the hell had she come up with that? He glanced at her with a brow raised.
"Noah told me you were hassling her at the bar Sunday night."
"Christ, does nothing stay a secret around here?"
"Well it definitely doesn't when you're trotting it out at Danny's. But…" She tipped her head down, narrowing her eyes. There it was, that laser-like gaze, boring right into his soul and finding all his secrets. "It stops here."
"Promise?"
"Well, you know how little control I have over my brother in law…"
"I know."
"But you don't have to worry about me."
"Thanks, Lilypad."
She hadn't been raised in the same rumor mill as people who had been life-long residents of Three Rivers and she'd been appreciative when people in the know had kept their mouths shut about her and Finn in their early days, so he knew he could count on her.
They turned their horses and started back toward the ranch.
"Hey, did she ever say yes?"
—NINE—
True to his word, Layla saw Nate's truck pull up outside the office through the big front window ten minutes before her shift ended. Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to drag her attention back to the last patient file of the day that needed updating. There was one last client with Dr. Fields and then she'd be free to go. She'd told herself it had nothing to do with him, but she'd been floating on air all day. Not even a mid-day vomit cleanup from a sick kid in the waiting room could sink her good mood, and the day had sped by.
Finally, she heard the doctor's voice as he approached his exam room door and held it open for Sarah Murphy. She was already halfway into her cardigan when the elderly physician stepped out and bid farewell to his patient and let Layla go for the day.
Nate got out of the truck and was leaning against the side, all long legs, dusty jeans, and a cool smile; it was all she could do to stop herself from skipping out the door and across the sidewalk to him like a schoolgirl. Saying yes to the date had inexplicably lifted a weight off her shoulders. Every time she tried to consider the potentially tricky situation she was about to put herself in, excited butterflies batted any negative thought away. She'd never had a proper date.
"Hey."
"Hey," he said, pushing off the side of the truck and pulling open the passenger side door. "How was your day?"
She slid into the space between him and the door and lifted herself into the truck. "Good. Better than I expected."
"Good," he said with a smile, motioning for her to fold arms and legs safely away so he could close the door. He moved around the hood of the truck and slid in beside her, wasting no time to help her with the seatbelt. The prickling static when their skin touched was still there; maybe it was stronger than before. "I didn't have any luck with your car today, but I did get it towed over to Nan's. Rusty McLean is going to come take a look at it tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, Nate's Taxi, at your service."
"Oh you don't…"
"There you go again," he said with a laugh, pulling away from the curb. "You need to make any stops?"
"No." She wouldn't have asked him even if she did. What he was doing was already too much, it made her feel guilty. "Look, before Rusty does the work, can you call me and tell me how much he thinks it's going to cost?"
He raised a brow at her.
"Don't worry…"
It was her turn to cut him off.
"No, I'm gonna draw the line on this one, Nate. You've already been beyond helpful. Get me a quote and we'll go from there."
She knew when to ask for and accept help when it came to just about anybody, but she wouldn't accept this kind of help. Not from Nate, especially. Her family had a long history of being known as the people who 'took advantage' and she wouldn't risk the rumor mill, already rampant with speculation about who her child's father was, latching onto Layla Sullivan working the sugar daddy angle. She figured she had just about enough to cover it and she might be able to convince Rusty to write off the rest for an extended tab at Danny's that could be taken out of her check.
"Yes ma'am." He turned his attention back to the road, and that was when she noticed the wrapped casserole pan on the floorboard behind the shifter. On top of it sat a loaf of bread so fresh there was a little condensation inside the bag.
"What's this?" she asked, feeling prickly.
"Nan sent supper." She narrowed her eyes at him across the cab of the truck and he glanced back at her. "Seriously, it was Nan."
She pressed her lips together and settled back into her seat. Nan sent food all the time. The fact that Nate was delivering it meant nothing more than he had already been on his way to get her. And she would invite him in, because it was the polite thing to do. Because that would be Nan's expectation. And that meant Nate would come face to face with Mason.
Anxiety prickled in her bloodstream. It was too soon. Even if she omitted the truth about who the child's father was, the potential for suspicion was there, and if he asked her point blank, she couldn't lie to him. He wasn't an idiot, he could do the math. Even the butterflies couldn't blow this thought process out. She swallowed, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton, as they pulled into the yard. She closed her eyes and let out a breath through her nose to try to calm herself.
Okay, you've got this.
*
Nate guided his truck into the driveway of the old Jenkins place. It was an aging, square farm house with a wrap-around covered veranda. Almost before he had the truck in park, Layla had unbuckled herself and opened the door. She'd just accepted a date with him this morning, and here she was again, running off like he smelled roadkill.
"Hey," he said. She whirled around like she'd been caught doing something bad. Nate unbuckled and reached to grab the casserole and bread Nan had sent and unbuckled himself. A look of sheer terror crossed her face. "You forgot the dinner Nan sent."
He climbed out and she shot around the front of the truck like her ass was on fire.
"Great, thanks again." She reached for the dishes but he didn't hand them to her, turning instead toward the house. "What are you doing?"
I didn't invite you in. He could almost hear it on the end of her question. Smiling to himself, he started toward the house. She followed, but he wouldn't have called her willing, or enthusiastic, dragging her feet to the porch of her own house. From a distance, the house looked as it always had, but once he got closer, he saw the paint on the wide wood siding was peeling and the roof over the porch needed a few new shingles. Minor things, but as busy as she seemed to be, probably overwhelming.
She got ahead of him then, climbing the two steps to the porch and wedging herself between him and the door. With surprising strength, she wrestled the food dishes from his hands. This was the part where he expected she'd invite him in to share the dinner, but instead, she followed his eyes to the flaking paint.
"I know, it needs…" She let out a sigh, shrugging. "A lot of work."
And then she seemed to gather herself up, shaking off her defeated demeanor and lifting her chin. She was making a conscious decision not to feel bad about it. He could admire that. He wished he could figure out how to flip that switch in himself.
"Not so much that it can't be done."
The windows looked relatively new, and apart from the roof, the porch was in good shape. His eyes slid along the floorboards until they landed on something out of place. A brightly colored kid's toy, the kind a baby sat and bounced in, with a tray and little toys on springs to play with. There were a couple soggy pieces of cracker on the tray, so it was clearly someth
ing in recent use.
Layla, as a mother. Lots of things started to make sense, from the extra softness of her curves to the fact that she was guarding the door of the house like a mama bear at the door of the den after a hard winter. When he glanced back up at her, she was staring at the toy in horror. She finally ripped her gaze from it, and swung it to him.
"Okay, thanks for the drive. See you later." She turned for the house but he stopped her with a hand on the old screen door. Her body was close to his, not quite touching, but close enough he could smell the fragrant honeysuckle shampoo she used, her dark, glossy hair near enough to stroke. She didn't turn right away, her body stiffening at the proximity. He hadn't meant for this to be anything but a means to stop her before she scampered off, but he couldn't deny the closeness reminded him he was a man, with needs, and Layla had once fulfilled that need. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. It was a beat before he could speak.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"No, uh…what?" Finally she shifted, turning in the small space he'd trapped her in, and lifting her eyes to his.
Something deep in his chest twisted. This was a girl who had never asked for a handout in her life. Pride was clearly the big barrier between her and getting a bit of extra help that would have made her life easier.
"Well, you don't have your car, so should I pick you up the same time tomorrow?"
She blew a breath out; like she felt the electricity crackling in the air between them too. She'd told him she wasn't the same woman he'd first slept with, but in many ways she was. Soft, giving, trusting, and undeniably attractive. Better, even, than she'd been two years ago.
"Okay, yes." He didn't move right away, and she shifted, her voice turning tremulous. "I'm not inviting you in, Nate."
Taking a step back, he grinned, wiping a hand over his chin. "You're not, but you want to."
"Not tonight," she said.
"That sounds like a someday, so I can live with that. Besides, we still have a date to look forward to."
A little grin twisted her lips, and he was relieved he wasn't the only one looking forward to it.
"Good night, Nate."
He tipped the brim of his imaginary hat and headed back to his truck like he was walking on air.
—TEN—
"Did you sleep at all?" Kerri asked when she stepped inside the door the next morning and found Layla dressed and ready for work.
"No, what?" Layla frowned, shifting from foot to foot at the kitchen island where she was hurriedly chewing a bagel and balancing Mason on one hip. She didn't get to spend nearly enough time with him with her work schedule so she took every opportunity she could find to hold him and talk to him, even if it meant multitasking.
"How did you even shower?" Normally, Kerri showed up to keep an eye on Mason while she got ready, and she was short enough on time by that point she usually ran into Hinkley's for a coffee and a muffin for breakfast.
"Oh. Mason slept late." She shrugged, but she could tell the astute teen wasn't going to give up her interrogation yet by the slow way she put her laptop bag down on the kitchen table and narrowed her eyes at Layla.
"What's going on?"
"Well, my car is busted."
"Right. And Nate Montgomery brought you home last night."
"How did you know that?"
"Come on, Layla." Kerri shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. "I heard him. And saw his truck. And you were school-girl-flustered when you came in."
Right. She'd forgotten Nate was practically an honorary Baylor, and Kerri's brother-in-law ran that whole ranch. This could go in one of two ways. She decided to err on the side of confidence because Kerri was the closest thing to a girlfriend she had besides Nan.
"Well, Nate Montgomery is picking me up this morning. Because the car. And…he doesn't know I have a kid, so…" She gestured with her free hand to her sun dress and braid—standard uniform for Dr. Fields' office.
"Oh, I get it. You think if you keep it a secret from him, he'll never find out." Kerri nodded exaggeratedly as she took Mason from Layla's arms, hitching him up on the hip in a mirror image of the way his mother had been holding him. "Yes, excellent plan. People have babies, Layla. You have a baby. He'll have to get over it. Besides, he's great with Gracie and Jacob."
"Right. It doesn't matter. I don't care."
"Except you do, because you like him."
Layla's gaze cut to Kerri.
"And you care what he thinks of you."
In the grand scheme of things, she didn't care what Nate thought of her. He'd seen her pretty damn vulnerable…at her worst, so to speak; naked. But this one thing. The single mother stigma, the 'can't-keep-a-man' thing that was actually a 'don't-want-a-man-because-that's-the-definition-of-being-vulnerable' thing, the big secret thing…yeah, he would judge her. And rightly so. And it scared the hell out of her.
"I do."
"If he thinks anything besides that you are a great, hard working mom and a good person, then he's not worth your time."
"Ker…"
"Nate's like a big brother to me, but I don't even care. He doesn't deserve your time if he's going to be…" Kerri paused, pressing Mason's head to her chest with her hand over his other ear. "A shithead."
Layla laughed.
"But, I'm pretty sure he's not going to be a shithead," Kerri continued, remembering a moment too late to cover Mason's ears.
Still laughing, Layla gathered her house keys and phone from the countertop, much of her anxiety dissipating with the lighthearted turn their conversation had taken. She passed around the end of the kitchen island to press a kiss to Mason's chubby cheek. And just in time, because the low rumble of Nate's old diesel truck sounded from the yard. She could maybe explain away the exersaucer on the porch as babysitting in her spare time, but once he came inside the house, there'd be no mistaking it was a baby's domain. Her baby's domain. She wished she could just throw caution into the wind and ditch him if he turned out to be a shithead, but the truth was the little warm buzz in the pit of her stomach when she thought about him was addictive and she liked it.
"Be good," she said as she pushed open the door, where Nate was just mounting the stairs. The smile that brightened his features made her heart skip a beat.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
"Your chariot awaits," he began, gesturing behind him to his truck, which he'd pulled in next to Kerri's SUV. "Though I see you have wheels. Which were here last night."
"Oh, that's Kerri," she said dismissively as she started down the stairs, realizing a beat too late she'd stepped in it.
"Kerri, eh?"
"Yeah, she, uh…helps me with the house."
Nate paused at the front bumper of his truck and cocked his head at her. "Is that so?"
"Yeah…with…renovations."
"Didn't you say you didn't need any help?"
She scrambled for a second, then flashed a smile at him as she rounded the fender of the truck and pulled the passenger door open, hoping she portrayed the confidence she didn't feel. "I don't. Kerri helps."
"Ah ha."
She felt his eyes on her when she climbed into the truck. He didn't buy her story. He was a tough customer and she was fooling herself to think he'd buy the idea she babysat in her spare time, too. She couldn't have been happier when he helped her buckle herself in without a word, and spent the rest of the ride in silence.
When they pulled up in front of the doctor's office, she could feel his hesitation before she even moved for the door handle.
"Layla."
Oh, his voice wrapped around her name sounded about as good as she remembered his body feeling wrapped around hers. She swung her gaze to him, convinced she was about to be called out for her flimsy lies.
"Yeah, Nate?"
"Tonight?"
She shifted, clearing her throat, her fingers curling around the strap of her purse.
"What about tonight?"
"Dinner. I'd like to cash in on
our date."
Of course her calendar was clear. She couldn't put it off any longer, and when he decided he wasn't interested in a woman with the kind of baggage that required late night feedings and diaper changes, she'd at least have the memory of a date with Nate Montgomery to hang onto. The linchpin to this plan was Kerri. Or Nan, failing everything else.
"Um, I'll let you know."
"You'll let me know."
"Yeah, uh…I just need to check if I have a shift scheduled at Danny's."
Nate shrugged. "All right, then. Just send me a text."
She nodded, letting herself out of the truck and hitching her purse over her shoulder.
"Hey Lay," his voice sounded behind her. She swung around, and saw him leaning toward her door, one arm folded over the top of his steering wheel.
"Yeah?"
"Don't let me down."
—ELEVEN—
Rusty McLain grabbed the rag hanging from his back pocket and began meticulously wiping grease and car fluid off his hands. He made a face that made Nate worry. The key here was the work required had to be inexpensive enough that Layla could afford it, or if it was more, sound simple enough she wouldn't know the difference when he figured out how to float the extra money for it.
"I gotta order the part." In typical Rusty fashion, everything came slow, but the older man was kind. He'd always been good to Nan, and Nate knew he didn't charge nearly enough for the innovative jerry-rigged solutions he came up with when time or money were in a pinch. "A few days to come in, maybe a week…" Rusty did some mental figuring, his fingers and lips moving as he calculated. "I'll clear my schedule for that day and give you a call. Couple hundred bucks. But then it should last her until this thing dies."
Judging by the look of the aging Fiesta, and the numbers on the odometer when he got in to put it in neutral to tow, Nate figured she had maybe a year, with a bit more money sunk into it. Two, if she was really lucky and twisted her mouth the right way.
"Anything else?"
Secret Heart Page 5
