by Judy Duarte - The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley)
“Yes,” she finally said. “How’d you know?”
He’d crushed after the type long enough that he could just tell. But he didn’t dare admit it to her. Instead he smiled and said, “I don’t know. It was just a guess.”
She seemed to stew on that for a moment, as though she wasn’t sure if she should take his assessment as a compliment or not. So he tried to brush it all aside by moving on to something safer. “What do you want to eat?”
Megan ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and an unsweetened iced tea, while Clay chose the Double Tastee Burger, fries and an orange cream shake.
“Did you grow up around here?” he asked.
“No, I actually grew up outside of Houston, but when my dad died, my mom moved me and my younger brother back here to live with Gram out at her orchard. I transferred to Brighton Valley High my sophomore year.”
“Did you like school?” Clay figured she must have. The popular kids usually did. It was those who hadn’t fit in who’d struggled with attendance.
“It was okay, I guess. I liked the social aspects. But when I was in elementary school, I was diagnosed with dyslexia. So I hated it back then.”
“You seem to have overcome your disability,” he said.
“Yes, for the most part—and with time and the learning lab at the high school. But when I was Lisa’s age, money was tight for our family and there was never any extra for tutoring. That’s why I’m determined to provide the help she needs. And the extra hours I work at Zorba’s is one way I can afford to do that.”
Thank goodness he hadn’t followed his gut and fired her when he’d first arrived.
A waitress on roller skates brought out their order and Clay reached for his wallet while Megan protested. “Nope, you bought lunch today. Dinner is on me.”
Then, after picking up the tab, she laid out napkins and ketchup packets and put the straw in his milkshake—just as she would have done for one of her kids. Somehow it made him feel taken care of. Doted on.
He bit into his double cheeseburger, which tasted better than anything in the world, simply because this particular beautiful woman sat next to him, and he finally belonged.
At least the guy pretending to be Peyton Johnson belonged. Clay didn’t know where he fit in, but he would just enjoy the juicy burger, the gorgeous redhead and the curious—maybe even envious—stares from the teenagers around him.
“So you’ve lived in Brighton Valley ever since high school?” Clay asked, wanting to know more about her.
“No, actually I came back after my divorce. And now that I’m here, I don’t ever intend to leave.”
“Going away was a bad experience?”
“You could say that. The entire marriage was a bad experience. But I only have myself to blame.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really. Let’s just say it was a blessed mistake and an unfortunate learning experience.”
When he looked at her in confusion, she went on. “I love Tyler more than life itself, but let’s just say that he came a little too early.”
“Ah. I see.” And Clay actually did. His friend Rick had gotten his girlfriend, Mallory, pregnant back in high school. It had ended well for them—they’d finally reunited ten years after the fact. But there’d been a lot of hard lessons and rough patches along the way.
“Mine is a classic story,” Megan said. “Good-girl cheerleader dates captain of the football team and ends up pregnant. Football Captain grudgingly marries Cheerleader because his rich granddaddy says he has to. Cheerleader gives marriage her best try but Football Captain can’t commit and leaves her and their two kids for a wealthy cougar. Then Football Captain and Cougar ride off into the sunset in her white Mercedes, never to be heard from again. That’s my marital experience in a nutshell.”
Megan took a bite of her grilled chicken sandwich and nodded toward the pep-squad girls, who by now had been convinced to join the rowdy boys sitting on the tailgate of the truck next to them.
“See those girls? Every time I come here, I just want to grab each of them by their shoulders, shake them and tell them not to settle for some boy who drives a truck and can score a touchdown every Friday night. A few whistles and catcalls do not equal love.”
“What about those poor unsuspecting boys whose hormones are changing every day? They’re probably nervous as hell around those girls, so they puff up like roosters walking through a henhouse because they don’t know how else to get a female’s attention.”
“Those boys will be just fine. They’ll learn to lie and sneak around and cheat on their spouses soon enough.”
“Wait, you can’t think that all men are like your ex-husband.” Oh, boy. Football Captain had sure done a number on her. Clay wanted to punch the no-good lying jerk who’d done her wrong like that. He hated liars even more than he hated football players—at least, those who were bullies like Todd Redding and his buddies.
“No,” Megan said. “I realize all men aren’t like my ex-husband. My grandpa certainly wasn’t. And my dad adored my mother. There are plenty of trustworthy men in town. Unfortunately, I seem to be a magnet for the liars.”
She attracted liars? More than one? Who else had lied to her or let her down?
“How’s your shake, Peyton?”
Peyton...?
Oh, no. It wasn’t like that. He wasn’t a liar. He was just protecting his identity. Once he got the store turned around, which should be soon, he would tell her who he really was. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so distrustful of men or the folks in the corporate office.
Or of him.
Chapter Seven
Megan couldn’t believe how much she and Peyton had gotten done in almost a week. Of course, now that school was out, she actually had more time to work because the kids were enrolled in a summer day camp as well as an enrichment program, which kept them busy most of the day.
In addition, she was finally getting the hang of the new accounting system Peyton had installed. Don, who was recovering at home, would be surprised to find out how much they’d accomplished.
After running a series of tests, the doctors at the Brighton Valley Medical Center had decided that Don had been suffering from exhaustion. They discharged him five days ago, and he was now recuperating at home with strict orders to take it easy.
Last night when Megan stopped by his house to visit him and Cindy, they told her someone from the corporate office had called. Just as Peyton had thought, there really was a sunshine fund that would see them through their present financial problems. And apparently, their insurance plan had an emergency clause that would kick in and cover all the excess hospital and medical bills for both Don’s hospitalization and Cindy’s treatments, which was a real godsend.
It would still be another week before Don would be able to return to work, though. But that was okay. Thanks to Peyton’s help, Megan was no longer adrift in a river of invoices and customer complaints.
In fact, Zorba’s was finally showing signs of getting back in order. And Peyton, who’d promised to stick around until after Don came back to work, had been a man of his word.
There’d been moments when Megan would catch herself staring at him while he rearranged the shelves. And there were times when he’d come along behind her chair to point out something about how the new system worked. She’d catch a whiff of that amazing aftershave he wore, that clean, woodsy scent that set her senses reeling. Then he’d place his hand over hers as it rested on the mouse, letting it linger longer than necessary. Or maybe it had just felt that way.
Yet there seemed to be a mutual understanding that they needed to behave like professionals and place their attraction on the back burner.
The problem was Megan wasn’t sure how much her back burner could hold before the attraction pot boiled over.
She’d originally thought Peyton would be here for only a couple of days. And even though she’d both appreciated and needed his assistance, the bookkeeping system was well in place and there wasn’t really much left for an accountant to do around here.
Yesterday he’d started working on some of the computer repairs to help Don catch up, which was really helpful, but she was a little concerned about that, too. After all, she wasn’t sure what kind of training he had. What if he wasn’t able to fix things properly?
The customers all knew about Don’s illness now, so they would be more understanding about the delay in getting their computers back. And since many of them had purchased new laptops, there wasn’t much for them to complain about.
If truth be told, it would be best if Peyton went back to the city. Best for her, anyway, because as much as she intended to keep a professional air about her while the two of them worked together, it was getting more and more difficult to do, especially if he insisted upon wearing that blasted aftershave and peering over her shoulder to look at her screen while she worked.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he bent over her desk again, setting off a flurry of pheromones and a bevy of goose bumps chasing up and down her arms.
His face was so close to hers that if she turned to the right, she might actually be close enough to press a kiss on his cheek—if she were so inclined.
“It’s going okay.”
If he didn’t step away, she was going to have to ask what brand of cologne he wore. And she wasn’t about to do that.
Finally, he must’ve taken pity on her because he moved over to the shelf of waiting computers. Then he knelt down and reached for the cords of several machines that had gotten tangled together.
Once he was no longer hovering so close, she changed the subject. “You know, I’ll bet Zorba’s has a computer technician they could send out here to do some of those repairs. Like a loaner employee or someone like that so you don’t have to do it.”
“I don’t mind fixing a few of these just to help get them back to their owners quicker.”
At that, she turned toward him and as their gazes met, her heart stalled for a moment, then took off like a quivering arrow.
He smiled, but he also raised a brow at her, as if he expected her to utter a complaint. And the only one she was tempted to mention was the very last thing in the world she’d ever say to him.
“It’s not that we don’t need your help.” She returned his smile. “I mean, I don’t know what Don and I would have done without you. But are you really qualified to be doing so many computer repairs?”
His eyebrow rose even higher. “I can handle a few repairs.”
“Of course you can.” She hadn’t meant to insult him, so she stood and walked over to where he knelt by the shelf in order to soothe his ego better. “It’s just that you’re an accountant and you’re really good at what you do. So don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should be trained or certified to be working on the computers.”
She sensed he was about to protest, but she cut him off by placing her hand on his upper arm. “Hear me out. If you just do a temporary fix to get these machines operating and we release them to the customers, the problems could still be there. It would be like putting a Band-Aid on after an open-heart surgery. And we wouldn’t want to have to refund our clients’ money and do all the work over again.”
Peyton’s face grew red, and she assumed she’d insulted him in spite of her attempt not to. She hadn’t meant to imply that there was anything wrong with being an accountant. Gosh, he was sharp and had helped out tremendously. Who knew where she and Don and the store would be if he hadn’t come in when he had?
Before she could soften the blow and explain herself better, point out that they couldn’t all be computer geniuses, the bell on the door jangled, and Tyler’s voice called out, “Hey! Where are you going?”
A bark sounded, followed by thumps and bumps that grew louder and louder upon approaching the back office.
Megan glanced up just as an oversize ball of fur hurled itself toward her. In her squatting position, she fell toward Peyton, causing them both to tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs and computer cords.
* * *
“What in the heck was that?” Clay asked, as he watched the dirty four-legged blur rush up the back steps toward his apartment.
“I think it was a dog.” Megan, who just moments ago had set him off by suggesting that he wasn’t tech savvy enough to handle some basic computer repairs, now lay on the floor in his arms.
His face—which had warmed with indignation when he’d been sorely tempted to tell her right then and there that he was Clay Jenkins, the one and only founder of Geekon Enterprises—was now heated by something much different from anger.
With her red hair spilled onto his face and the full, pert breasts he’d spent the past week fantasizing about pressed against his chest, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her to hold her close.
Megan met his gaze, which didn’t take any effort since their faces were only inches apart. What could have been desire just moments ago turned to surprise when her son called out, “Pancho,” and her daughter’s soccer cleats pounded on the floor.
Now what?
“Pancho!” Tyler called out again. “Where’d you go, boy?”
Megan tried to delicately remove herself from her stretched-out position on top of him, but a computer cord caught her ankle, and she was able to get only one leg up, resulting in her straddling his torso. Under any other circumstances, Clay might have actually found the position...nice.
Actually, he found it nice anyway.
“Hey,” Tyler said as he entered the back office and spotted the two of them on the floor. “What are you guys doing down there?”
“It’s a long story,” Clay said, “but if you’re looking for a runaway mutt, it just knocked us down before heading upstairs.”
“Cool. Thanks. We’ll get him.” Tyler took off after the mangy dog, as Lisa followed behind.
Clay tried to get up off the floor, but until Megan could roll off the top of him, he wasn’t going anywhere.
What a mess. Thank goodness the kids were too busy chasing after “Pancho” to notice the intimate and embarrassing position in which the adults had suddenly found themselves.
“Hold on,” Megan said. “My ankle is stuck.”
When she reached toward her right foot, the motion brought her into contact with the most male part of his anatomy, and a rush of heat shot up his groin as she tried to reposition herself.
He grabbed her hips to stop her from moving on top of his lap and causing him further arousal, not to mention a bit of embarrassment. He clenched his eyes shut and said, “I’m trying to stay as still as I can, but when you wiggle around like that, it doesn’t help.”
“But I...” Her movements slowed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...”
What? That he’d been fantasizing about being in this position with her all week? Not that he’d envisioned being on the floor of the shop—or having kids and a dog involved.
The bell on the front door jangled again. With the two kids already accounted for, Clay opened his eyes. Who’d just come in?
Could this situation get any worse?
“We’ll be right with you,” Megan called out.
Now, how the hell did she expect for that to happen? They were pretty much tied up for the moment. Unless...
Clay sat up to reach the cord on her ankle. He’d pull the damn thing off the monitor if it would get her perfect, compact and sexy body off him any quicker. But his effort merely pushed their torsos closer together, leaving their faces only inches apart.
Megan wrapped her arms around the back of his shoulders to steady herself just as a gruff but winded male voice sounded from the front of the store.
“I’m sorry, Meggie, but the kids took off after that damn dog before I could stop them, and...” Sam Jennings, Caroline’s retired husband, stopped short when he spotted Clay with one hand on the sexy single mother’s hip, and her legs wrapped around him.
“Whoops. Sorry to interrupt. I could have sworn the kids ran in here.” The man tried to look anywhere but at the two of them all twisted up together on the floor in what had to look like a lovers’ embrace.
“They ran upstairs,” Megan said. “That fool dog knocked us over, and I’m all tangled up with this computer cord. Where did that thing come from, anyway?”
Clay gave the cord a good hard pull and heard it pop off the back of the monitor. Better to have to repair a broken cord than to stay in this awkward position, especially with the retired sheriff eyeballing him as if he’d gotten Megan in this intimate position on purpose.
Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it.
As Megan got to her feet, Sam said, “It’s a stray that took up residence in the park. Caroline started calling it Pancho after it snuck into the back of the diner and ate what was left of her tamale pie last week.”
“Mom,” Lisa said, as she raced down the steps. “We saw the dog in the park after Sheriff Sam picked us up from camp. He said we could keep him if we caught him, and Tyler cornered him in the apartment upstairs, so can we keep him? We caught him fair and square.”
While Megan had already gotten off the floor, Clay remained seated, waiting for his arousal to subside a bit more.
“I’m sorry for making that kind of promise to the kids,” Sam said. “I didn’t think they’d be able to catch him. The whole town has been after that darn dog for almost two weeks, and he’s avoided every last one of us.”
At that moment, Tyler came downstairs. “Please, Mom, please. We’ll take care of him, I promise.”
Clay watched the emotions pass across Megan’s face, from embarrassment to annoyance to love. He suspected she was about to give in.
“Where is Pancho now?” she asked.
“I locked him in Mr. Johnson’s bedroom. He peed a little bit on the bed, but only because he was so excited. I can train him not to do that in the house, I promise.”
