by Becky McGraw
Well, no more. She wasn't anyone's whipping post.
Tonight, she had a little hope in the back of her mind that they would get to know each other a little better personally, which would make them working together easier. All it had done was burst the bubble on her thoughts that the sexy vet was as nice as he was good looking. That they could be friends. Roxanne was his friend, and seemed to care about him. Leigh Ann had been looking forward to developing that same kind of relationship with him. That wasn't happening.
In fact, after tonight, she didn't see how she could possibly stay at Jepson Vet Clinic. He would just have to find someone else, maybe a male, to be his assistant.
The bathroom door swung inward forcefully. Leigh Ann gasped and turned away from the mirror. Grabbing her purse off of the back of the sink, she kept her head tucked as she walked toward a stall. The last thing she wanted was someone to see how upset she was. She grabbed the handle of the stall door, just as someone put a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't a feminine hand, but a big mitt of a hand that dug into her skin.
"Leigh Ann, wait," Wes said softly, his voice gravelly. Leigh Ann stopped and stood stock still, then jerked her shoulder from his grasp.
"Go away, Wes," she said trying to shore up the trembling in her voice.
"I need to talk to you."
"I think you said all that needs to be said, except goodbye," Leigh Ann replied, pulling on the stall door. She was surprised when he turned away, and she used the opportunity to step inside the stall and shut the door. Her hand was shaking too badly to lock it, so she just stepped up on the toilet seat to sit on the back. The cool porcelain chilled the back of her legs, but they would never be as cold as her heart right now.
Leigh Ann held her breath waiting for the door to open again, so she would know he left. Instead she heard a metallic clicking sound, then heavy footsteps that stopped right in front of the stall. Her heart sped up as she stared at the shiny black boots visible underneath the door. She scrambled off of the toilet and grabbed for the lock, at the same time the door opened, and she fell right into Wes Jepson's arms. Pushing against his chest to free herself, Leigh Ann struggled until his arms had closed around her like steel bands.
"Let me go," she demanded, her hands curling into fists on the front of his shirt.
"You asked what my problem was?" his voice was like smooth dark chocolate, as he leaned closer to her ear. Wes's hand moved to the back of her skull and he yanked her hair so she had to look up at him. His eyes were wild mossy green pools, as he admitted, "This is my problem," right before his lips closed over hers and she felt like she was falling.
Her fists closed in the material of his shirt and a tremor moved through her body. His heart was beating double-time against the side of her fists, and Leigh Ann clung to him as her weak knees gave out.
It was too much, this was too much. And she was mad at him, hurt.
She shouldn't be kissing him, but god it felt so good. Her senses were overwhelmed by his heady scent, by the electricity sizzling every nerve in her body. Leigh Ann had kisses before, plenty of them, but none compared to this. This man knew how to kiss, and she wasn't about to end it, before she had enjoyed every last ounce of pleasure he had to give her.
When he finally pulled back from her, he didn't release his tight grip on her body. "I'm sorry for being an ass. You look so damned beautiful tonight, every man in the room wants you. I hate it when they look at you." The sincerity in his voice washed over her and his words took some of the sting out of his earlier insults.
"I don't want them. I'm used to that, men look. That doesn't mean I enjoy it." She didn't like it. Leigh Ann had dealt with that all her life and hated it in fact. "I don't have any control over it though."
"I know, and men are always going to look at you. You're beautiful. It's rude, but it's going to happen. It shouldn't bother me, but...with Laura, it just---"
He looked off to the side and his eyes got a faraway look in them and Leigh Ann reminded, "I'm not Laura, Wes." His eyes met hers again, and he was seeing her not his ex-wife now, she could see that, and was relieved.
"I know that too, and I'm so damned glad you're not...so damned glad," Wes told her leaning in to gently kiss her, once, twice, before she opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside to deepen the kiss. Leigh Ann's fists unclenched, releasing his shirt and she smoothed out the wrinkles there with her palms, before sliding her hands up to his broad shoulders.
Wes's hands closed over her butt and he lifted her against him, as he pushed her back into the closed stall door with a growl, never taking his sexy mouth from hers. Leigh Ann's heart sped up as she laced her fingers together behind his neck to hold on to him. His fingers crawled in the chiffon of her skirt to lift it, then his hot hands branded her skin.
With a moan, she lifted her legs around his hips, wanting him to put out the fire burning at her core. This was going too far, too fast. But she couldn't make herself stop him. Wes adjusted his hold on her and she felt his hardness pressing against her folds. Liquid fire floated up her body, and Leigh Ann ground her hips against him. If he wanted to, she would let him unzip his pants and slide into her right here. It would be so good, and she was more than ready.
But then what would he think of her?
Leigh Ann's mother's voice flew into her head dimming some of her excitement. Public restroom sex is not something a lady would engage in. Not that her mother had ever voiced those words to her before, but Leigh Ann knew that's what she would say.
Leigh Ann didn't want to be a lady, she wanted Wes Jepson inside of her. Right here, right now. The thought tantalized her even more, and she was about to suggest it to him, if someone hadn't tried the knob on the bathroom door before knocking impatiently. The sound echoed off of the porcelain-tiled walls, waking her from the sensual haze that Wes was weaving around her. Her legs loosened at his waist and she let them slide down his until she was standing again.
His hands fell from her and he stepped back, his eyes dilated, his pupils almost overtaking the hazel irises. "Wow," he said breathlessly as he ran a hand over his slightly stubbled jaw.
Leigh Ann swallowed and pushed off of the door to stand upright, her legs feeling like a newborn colt. Another knock came at the door, this one louder and more insistent. She looked at Wes, who was re-tucking his shirt into his pants, and then at the locked bathroom door. If she opened that door, everyone in the restaurant, everyone in Texas probably, would know what they had been up to in here very soon.
Someone might even be with the press. Leigh Ann's reputation had been her main concern in life for a long time now. This would definitely not be something she wanted out for public consumption. But Wes didn't know that. She hadn't told him she was former Miss Texas. Because her sister had asked her not to. Her mother would have a fit if this wound up in the paper somehow.
"Hurry, get into the stall and sit on the back of the toilet," she whispered. "I'll get rid of them."
"What? Let's just get out of here," he said taking a step toward the door, but she put a hand on his shoulder.
"Wes, please," she begged and gently pushed him back toward the stall. With a huffed breath, he nodded then opened the stall door and disappeared inside. When she heard the lock slide shut, and saw his feet disappear, she went to open the bathroom door.
"It's about damned time," the short older woman grumbled as she pushed her way inside. "What the hell were you doing in here?" she asked shuffling quickly to the first stall door and pulling. The stall where Wes was hiding out.
Nervously, Leigh Ann stuttered, "Th-that one is occupied, try the other one. I wasn't feeling well, so I locked the door for a second, sorry."
"Inconsiderate twit," the old lady said and stomped into the second stall.
Grumpy old bitch. Leigh Ann's hand flew to her mouth even though she only thought the words, and she held back a giggle.
She imagined Wes was having a hard time holding back his laughter too. She didn't know about him, but her
insides felt like they were infused with champagne bubbles. Light, airy and weightless, sparkling. Leigh Ann wanted more of those kisses, but she wasn't so sure it was a good idea. Getting involved with Wes Jepson could cause all kinds of problems. She worked for him, worked with him...and they lived together. If it didn't work out between them, she would lose her job. With Trey in the house, if they took things further it could hurt him.
But damn if she didn't want to do that. For the first time in her life, Leigh Ann had kissed someone she wanted to kiss, someone who knew how to kiss, and had the sexual experience to make it good for her too.
Unlike, stodgy banker Perry Simmons, fiancé number three, the youngest of her fiancé's at forty-five, the only man she had ever been with. All Perry had taught her was actual sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Her battery-operated-boyfriend she kept tucked in her makeup case had been much, much better. At least it didn't run out of energy and leave her hanging, because he finished before her.
Perry had made Leigh Ann start to think she might be frigid or something, because she never finished with him. She never even got started. Wes had just proved her theory to be bunk. With him, she definitely had no problem getting started. And she'd bet he could show her what all the hype was about.
Don't give away the milk for free, Leigh Ann, or they'll never buy the cow. Her mother had said those words to her before, and damn her to hell for her repression. She was twenty-six years old, and knew next to nothing about sex. That was going to change. Leigh Ann was going to find out exactly what she had been missing. With Wes Jepson.
The look on Wes's face when he came out of the stall after she knocked to let him know the coast was clear told her that wasn't happening tonight, probably not ever. He wouldn't even look her in the eye, as he breezed by her without a word to yank open the bathroom door.
"Let's eat, I'm starving," he said as he held the door open for her to go first.
CHAPTER SIX
A week later, on his knees in front of the closet in his office, Wes rifled through the boxes trying like hell to find his field notes. He needed to do the charting he'd put off for three months. On the third box of junk now, he sorted through a few vials of expired drugs, an unopened box of dog treats and a nasty looking bottle of flea bath, but not his notes.
Frustration built inside of him, and he yelled, "Leigh Ann!" Then went back to digging through the box.
He had been able to keep his distance from Leigh Ann while her sister was here finishing up her training. Roxanne was gone now, and he needed help, so he didn't have a choice but to ask Leigh Ann. He had been avoiding her, because he started something with her at that restaurant he wasn't going to finish. But he didn't want to tell her that, because then he would have to explain why. And he would probably hurt her feelings too.
He had called himself ten kinds of idiot, while he sat on the back of that commode in the ladies bathroom. The kiss had been off the scale as far as he was concerned, but Wes didn't have anything to give her beyond that. If he slept with her to get rid of the pain he lived with every night, he would regret it. They would probably both regret it, because he had nothing else to offer her.
Wes was serious when he said he didn't want a beautiful woman in his life again. Their quasi-date at the restaurant had just reminded him why. They weren't even dating and he was leering at cowboys over her. Insulting a waiter, then insulting her. Kissing her stupid in the bathroom, before having to hide in that bathroom so an old lady didn't shout it out in the restaurant that they had almost been having sex there.
Leigh Ann Baker was trouble Wes didn't need in his life.
So, after they left the bathroom, Wes had done the only thing he could do. He talked about the weather, an interesting case or two he'd had during the week, anything but that kiss. When dinner was done, he sprinted to the truck, and drove them back home as fast as he could. Since then he'd kept his distance. A lot of distance. At home and at the office. This is the first time he felt trapped. Roxanne was gone and he had to find those case notes.
Every time he got near her though, she looked at him with needy eyes, like she expected him to pick up where he left off the other night. Like she wanted him to finish what he started. And damned if his body didn't want him to finish it too.
Like a coward, Wes pretended he didn't notice and ran like hell. It might be gutless, because he owed her an explanation, but so far that had worked like a charm. His luck was running out though. Sooner or later, he was going to have to talk to her about it. Later worked much better for him, because he didn't know what he would say. He didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't changing his mind voluntarily.
He couldn't afford to change his mind. Not only was she a beautiful man magnet, her life was transitional right now. He didn't think she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. She was faking it until she made it doing something. He and his son both deserved a woman in their life who was stable and a comfortable fit. Someone they didn't have to fight to keep in their lives, or worry about leaving them.
Leigh Ann wasn't that woman. And he needed to stop thinking about her and focus on finding his case notes.
It might not be the most efficient way to do things, but while Wes was out on farm calls, he scribbled treatment notes on scraps of paper and shoved them into his pocket to transfer them to his files when he got back to the office. That usually didn't happen. They typically wound up in a cardboard box, and stayed there until he had time to do his charting later. Later was here now, but he couldn't find that damned box, since the women had cleaned his office within an inch of hospital standards. and organized him.
Panic didn't begin to describe how he felt at not being able to find that box.
Leigh Ann took her sweet time coming into his office to help too. When she finally appeared in the doorway, Wes glanced at her and swallowed hard.
Leigh Ann leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest to ask sweetly, "You need something?" Her words were nice, but her tone and cold eyes were not. She knew he had been avoiding her all week, and was pissed.
Wes needed something all right, needed it badly. More every day he spent with the curvaceous blonde. As usual, her soft southern drawl sent his blood pressure and libido skyrocketing. Her getting out of his house couldn't come soon enough. Wes was about at his limit.
Finding her pink thong and matching bra draped over the shower curtain rod in the hall bathroom this morning had pushed him over that limit. He had been thinking about that damned underwear all day, picturing her wearing it, and him taking it off of her.
He knew Leigh Ann was looking for another place to live. He had seen her milling through the ads in the newspaper daily. But she was still in his house, because she hadn't found a place she could afford yet.
When he got some money from the collection calls he had made, he would pay for her a hotel, or give her a deposit on an apartment in town. Anything to get her out of here. But he knew collecting that money from his delinquent clients wasn't going to be any easier than it had been for the last year. Besides, he had bills to pay. Her living with him wasn't costing him anything except his sanity. He would probably be stuck with her for a while.
Backing out of the closet, Wes whacked his skull hard on a pair of skis leaning against the back wall and cursed. Rubbing his head he pushed up to his feet and met her cold blue eyes.
"Wes?" she prompted with a tight curl of her full lips. His name caressed between those soft wet lips sent heat shooting through him, as his mind conjured images of her uttering it while he shoved inside of her warm body. Containing the growl that pushed up into his throat, Wes shook his head. "Yeah, where did you and Rocky put my box of field notes? I'm trying to do my charting and can't find them."
"What did they look like?" she asked with uncertainty in her voice
His eyes left hers to slide back down to her breasts. Pink, full, round and firm, he thought and his mouth watered, but he said, "Brown cardboard box with scraps of multi-colored stic
ky notes and scraps of paper in it. It was over there," he told her pointing to the far corner of the room.
A soft whimper came out of her and his eyes flew back to hers. She gnawed her lower lip, and his dick jerked in his jeans. Irritation shot through him. "What?"
"Rocky didn't say that box was important," she said. "It just looked like a bunch of trash to me, so I put it in the barrel out back."
Panic shot through him like a splash of cold water in the face, as he screeched, "The burning barrel?"
"Um, yeah," she confirmed.
"Good God, don't tell me..." Sickness settled in the pit of his stomach as Wes strode across the room to grab her shoulders. "Please tell me you didn't burn that box!"
Her blue eyes turned into watery pools, and her voice shook as she admitted, "I didn't burn it yet, but I was just about to go out there."
If she had destroyed that box, he would never finish the charting. Wes would be screwed, because with all he had going on, there was no way he could rely on his memory alone. His hands tightened on her shoulders and she trembled.
"We have to find that box," he told her forcing calm into his voice, while his heart beat a dull thud in his chest.
"I dumped the paper into the barrel with the other trash," she explained, but offered quickly, "I'll just go out there and pick through it." Turning, Leigh Ann glided off toward the front door. Wes followed behind her, intending to help, because he couldn't lose those notes. At the door though, she turned to him and put her hand on his chest. Her palms on his chest felt like the paddles emergency workers used on a heart patient, and Wes staggered back, as she told him, "This is my fault, I'm going to fix it. You go do something else."
The something else Wes wanted to do right then wasn't dig through a barrel with her. He turned away to ask gruffly as he walked back toward his office, "Where's my appointment calendar?" That was something else he hadn't been able to locate yet.
