Ugly Ducklings Finish First

by Gail, Stacy

  “Those boys are going to follow in their dad’s footsteps,” Wiley said, standing a few feet away from where Carlos sat. “I remember the one and only time I tried out for football in high school. One hit from Alex convinced me basketball was my sport.”

  A grunt that could have meant anything sounded from the old rail-thin man. “Football has been a tradition in the Xavier family from the time I was in school.”

  “Tradition is very important to you, isn’t it, sir?”

  The old man’s mouth tightened. Silence was his answer.

  Undaunted, Wiley pressed on. “I’ve asked for the records on your loan from Farmer’s Bank, Mr. Xavier. But they won’t release the information I need without your consent.”

  “It’s none of your business, boy.”

  “You’re part of this community, Mr. Xavier. That makes it my business,” Wiley corrected, though he knew the old man was right. “I know how important that property is to you. It isn’t just a piece of land—it’s a symbol of your heritage.”

  “And now these children will never know that heritage. Not like I do, or their father,” Carlos choked off, and with concern Wiley watched him struggle to even out his breathing. “They’ll never have the chance to live it, and that’s almost more than I can take.”

  “Then do something about it, sir. Let me help—”

  “There’s nothing to be done.” At last Carlos raised his liquid black eyes to Wiley, and they were terrible with pain and unvented grief. “For the last time, stay out of it. It’s over.”

  “Mr. Xavier—”

  “Leave me!” The old man came halfway out of his chair, veins standing out in his neck. Wiley murmured his apologies and retreated, his face tight with a scowl. He didn’t want to throw in the towel, but without cooperation there was nothing left for him to do.

  Hunting down the sounds of life, he found Alex in the kitchen with his one-year-old son and wife Trina, and their quiet unity made him pause in the doorway. Alex rubbed Trina’s back as she bent over the energetic baby to feed him, and as he watched the little family, an unnamed hollowness echoed through his chest. It was strange, watching them from the sidelines—it was as if he was catching a glimpse of an alien world that had somehow been hidden from him until now. There was a harmony that was almost tangible in this domestic scene, and it made him feel like an interloper. These people belonged together, in a way that he’d never belonged anywhere.

  For some reason, that bugged him no end.

  Alex’s attention swung his way when he stepped into the kitchen. “Uh-oh, that’s a nasty expression. I hate to say I told you so, but...”

  “I upset him. Again.” Taking the offered celery stick from a sympathetic Trina, Wiley bit into it with more force than necessary. “If I can’t get my hands on any more information, there’s nothing more I can do, Alex. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’ve already done more than anyone could have asked.”

  “He’s right, Wiley.” Trina bent to wipe her son’s messy face. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your looking into this for us. If you’d just let us pay—”

  “First off, I haven’t done anything. And secondly, neighbors helping neighbors is the way small towns get by. I’m just trying to find a way to make it better, though I don’t think I can do anything more at this point.”

  Alex clapped Wiley on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to my granddad.”

  “I wouldn’t right now, Alex. I have a talent for upsetting him.”

  “He’s like that all the time these days.”

  “I got to him more than usual tonight.” Wiley took out his smartphone and typed a quick message. “Alex, I just texted you Deborah Pruitt’s home phone number. If your grandfather has any problems this evening, you might be able to reach her daughter through her, Dr. Payton Pruitt. She’s just as worried about Carlos as the rest of us.”

  “Payton Pruitt.” Alex shook his head. “Man, I remember her. The Baby Brain of Bitterthorn High.”

  “She remembers you too. She thought you were cute when you were a kid.”

  His eyes lit up. “Did she?”

  “When you were a kid,” Trina repeated, elbowing him. “She hasn’t seen you lately.”

  “Anyway, you might be able to reach her through her mother. Though,” Wiley added, glancing at his watch, “she might already have returned to San Antonio for the night.”

  “No, she hasn’t.” Trina glanced up from the raw vegetables she was cutting. “Mary Lou Rodriguez went into labor earlier today. Since she refused to leave for San Antonio until her husband was with her, she asked if your friend would sit with her.”

  Wiley frowned. “Doesn’t Art Rodriguez work up in Austin?”

  “Yup. The last I heard, he was fighting traffic on I-35 to get down here. I don’t know if Mary Lou’s water broke yet, but if it does I have a feeling they’re going to be stuck down here in Bitterthorn for the blessed event. And I’m not the only one who thinks that, either—Hal over at the pharmacy told me the good doctor left Mary Lou’s side just long enough to get things ready down at old Doc Benson’s clinic to be on the safe side.”

  “Son of a gun.” Wiley grinned. All at once he had a pretty good idea why Rafe had been trying to locate Payton earlier. “It’s been a while since a baby was born in that place.”

  “The whole town’s in an uproar about it, or so it seemed when I went to pick up a few things at the drugstore.” With a smile, Trina snitched a carrot stick for herself. “Hal also said he’d heard Nurse Grimes had volunteered to don her old uniform to head into battle, should Payton need her.”

  “Wow.” Wiley found himself chuckling at the thought of the high school’s ancient, unbearably grouchy nurse toiling away in the trenches with Payton. “It looks like we’re going to be welcoming the newest citizen of Bitterthorn into our community.”

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could welcome Payton back as well?”

  Wiley smiled but didn’t answer. But in his mind, the question lingered.

  * * *

  The bright sound of birdsong echoed on the edges of Payton’s consciousness. The scent of roses bloomed all around her, and she smiled with pleasure. This was nice. All dreams should be filled with birdsong and roses. After the late night she’d had, she deserved it.

  At the memory of the drop-cloth-covered exam room and the cries of mother, then child, Payton surfaced closer to wakefulness. Gamely she fought it; no way was she ready to face the aching muscles she knew were waiting for her. Bringing a new life into the world wasn’t as easy as it seemed on TV, and heaven knew she didn’t remember it being this tense when she did her OB-GYN rotation, but thankfully everything had gone like clockwork. Bitterthorn’s population had officially grown by one.

  Grimacing at the scratchy collar of the nightgown she’d borrowed from her mother, Payton yawned, stretched and opened her eyes. Then she blinked, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

  What in the world...?

  With a sleepy frown, she touched the red rose lying next to her on the pillow. Bewildered, she brought the beautiful bloom to her face and buried her nose in it, the silken petals and rich perfume of the flower convincing her it wasn’t some weird stress-induced dream.

  Except...it had to be. Nothing else made sense.

  “You were made for a bed of roses.”

  The breath screeched to a halt and her skin tingled with invisible fire. She told herself it was surprise at the unexpected masculine voice, but she knew her reaction had nothing to do with that. No, what made her breath pause and her pulse race like a sprinter at the sound of the gun was something far more dangerous than mere surprise.

  It was instant, overwhelming desire.

  Slowly Payton sat up, and a cascade of rose petals fell along with the sheet into her lap. A luscious clo
ud of their scent floated around her, and only then did she realize the air was redolent with their perfume, making every breath a seductive pleasure.

  No wonder she had dreamed of roses.

  Her incredulous gaze traveled down the length of the narrow twin bed carpeted with petals to where Wiley sat, ensconced in an armchair that used to hold her stuffed animals. She had a dim memory of throwing her clothes onto that chair and tumbling into bed just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Now Wiley had taken their place, a hardcover book lying open in his lap. His hooded green eyes were trained on her as if she was lying there naked and vulnerable and he was enjoying the view. The tingling intensified, localizing deep in the hidden cleft between her thighs until it was almost painful, and her hand fluttered up to the gown’s irritating collar in a sudden desire to rip it off.

  “Are you sitting on my clothes?”

  “No.” His gaze flicked to the side for only an instant before returning to her, as if it was his mission in life to devour her with his eyes alone. “I’m not.”

  She followed his glance to the folded pile of clothes on the otherwise bare dresser. Her mouth tightened when she saw her bra, a wisp of buttercup yellow lace and satin, was placed like a cherry on top.

  “How did you get in?”

  He tilted his head toward the window he’d always climbed through when they were kids, the same window she’d left propped open to ventilate the dusty staleness of the room hours earlier.

  She had to work at stifling a shiver of excitement at the thought of him watching her as she slept. “An unlocked window isn’t an invitation to come in.”

  “I don’t need an invitation, Payton. Not anymore.”

  An overwhelming wave of heat rolled through her. There was no way she could convince herself it was borne out of anger. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “We really need to work on your self-esteem.” He closed the book with a muffled clap and ran a hand down its smooth front. She shivered, imagining that hand caressing down her back. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away from you.”

  Her heart came to an all-out stop. “I can’t imagine that.”

  “Then we’re also going to have to work on expanding your imagination.” A shadow of a smile appeared, though his eyes remained dark with an almost hypnotic intensity. “That should be fun. Not to brag, but I have an unbelievable imagination.”

  “What is that?” A shade frantically Payton gestured at the book he held, before she lost her mind and explored that too-hot topic.

  “Our senior yearbook. I found it in a box by the dresser,” he added when she groaned. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Gee, why should I mind?” She just prayed it wasn’t as ghastly as she remembered.

  “I’m amazed at how young you were. I realize now that I never saw you as a little girl. I always had the greatest respect for you.”

  Respect. Back in the day, she would have rather had his lust. “I was a forty-year-old trapped in a fifteen-year-old body. A geek’s underdeveloped fifteen-year-old body. I really was the Baby Brain you said I was.”

  “Don’t.” The word growled out of him, and she was shocked at the harsh savagery that moved through his expression. “Don’t ever say that name again.”

  “Um. Okay.” Not quite sure which way he was going to jump when he was in this sort of mood, she shifted her attention to the yearbook. “I’m all for ditching things from the past, including yearbooks. One of these days I’m going to burn every photo I’ve ever taken.”

  “Don’t you dare. I love looking back to the days when I had you all to myself.”

  She grimaced. “That’s one way of putting it. You certainly were the only friend I had.”

  “There are no words big enough to describe what a privilege and pleasure it was.” To her relief, his grim expression softened into a smile as he glanced around the room. “I remember the last time I was here. Do you?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “The day I left for college. I was packing and doing everything I could not to cry. I was terrified and already so homesick I thought I was going to throw up.”

  “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 wa
tching 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.