by Becky McGraw
His shoulders relaxed, and the straight line of his lips lifted a little at the corners, before he said, "Really?" His obvious relief made the sickness worse.
"Oh, sure...what did you think I expected you to declare your undying love?" she asked with a forced laugh. "I'm a big girl, Wes...I know what last night was about."
It was about him using her for sex, because she was available and more than ready, with no intention of showing her respect or any iota of caring afterward. Cold, hard sex, a basic function to satisfy his itch. Not that she had any expectations of a relationship. She knew the score, and had taken the risk with him anyway.
But he could at least pretend that it meant something to him. That she meant something and wasn't just a warm body he had used for the night. Her only expectation now was to get away from this handsome, but unfeeling man as soon as she possibly could.
"So no hard feelings?" he asked, his voice slightly disbelieving as he pushed off the door frame to stand with his hands on his hips.
"Absolutely none," she said around the knot in her throat, then added as evenly as she could, "It was sex, Wes."
"Yes it was," he agreed. Her sickness got worse when he gave her that sexy bedroom smile, and she saw desire flash in his eyes. "Damned mind blowing sex," he told her, taking a step toward the desk, but Leigh Ann held her hand out again and he stopped.
"One time, Wes," she repeated evenly. "It's done."
He hesitated a moment, then asked in an uncertain voice, "Wasn't it good for you?"
"Oh, it was good..." Beyond good, earth-shaking, heart breaking, but that was irrelevant. "But you were right, since we work together we need to keep it professional. You can do that, can't you, Wes?" she asked sweetly, widening her eyes, wanting to laugh at his shell-shocked expression.
"Yeah, sure...that's good then," he agreed, but his shoulders had tensed up again, making Leigh Ann feel a tad better. He wasn't as unaffected as he was pretending to be apparently. His body language and his face said he still wanted her.
Well, wasn't that just too damned bad?
She's not the type of woman I want or need. She was good enough to sleep with, but she wasn't good enough to be his type, if he was looking for a relationship. Leigh Ann wasn't a game player, but Wes Jepson deserved a little lesson about using people, and treating them like crap.
While she looked for another job, and another place to live, maybe she'd just give it to him. By the time she walked out on Wes Jepson, he would have his dick in his hand and it would be so hard he could pound nails with it. She was Roxanne Baker's sister, and she had learned from her sister how to pay people back when they crossed her. It was time for Leigh Ann to tap into her genetics and extract a little revenge herself. It wasn't in her nature, but she could do this, needed to do it to reclaim her dignity.
Wes was tired, wrung out emotionally, and he needed a beer to extinguish the slow building anger that had set up shop in his mind. All day long he dreaded talking to Leigh Ann, had built it up in his mind that she would blow up, be hurt and storm out of his office when they talked about last night. That hadn't happened.
Instead, she had basically given him the brush off. Told him it was a one-night-stand and she was perfectly fine with that. She had acted like it meant nothing to her. Totally not what he expected, and it threw him for a loop. It had bothered him all afternoon. It was still bothering him now.
Toweling his hair off, he wrapped the towel around his hips, shaved then walked into his bedroom to change clothes. Wes should be happy, ecstatic she felt that way, because that is exactly how he thought he felt too. But when the tables were turned on him it wasn't how he felt at all. He was really confused, slightly hurt and insulted.
She had used him for sex.
That is how men acted, not soft, emotional women like Leigh Ann Baker. Except for maybe her sister, Roxanne, women just weren't built that way. Well the women he had known anyway. That she had the capacity to make love to him so enthusiastically all night long, then get up this morning and act like being around him didn't bother her at all, was as mind blowing to him as the sex had been.
Now, she was downstairs with Trey making sandwiches for their supper. Something normal and ordinary. Wes was upstairs trying to wrap his mind around the situation. Hiding out from her again, this time because he had no idea how to deal with the situation. Just like he'd hidden out in his office the rest of the afternoon to avoid her.
What he needed to do was talk to her about moving out. She should have been gone by now, had enough time, and he had paid her twice. She should have enough money to do that now. If not, he would chip in whatever she was short. Wes needed her to move out.
So why the hell didn't he want her to leave? It didn't make sense, he didn't make sense, even to himself. Wes knew he had to go downstairs. Trey was down there and he hadn't seen him in nearly a week. The fact that he was even contemplating staying up here instead of going downstairs because she was down there, told him he needed to get her gone fast.
Wes dressed, then stopped to draw in a breath to shore up his flagging courage, before he made his feet move. At the foot of the stairs, he contemplated running right back up them. At the breakfast bar, Trey munched on a sandwich, while keeping up a steady conversation with Leigh Ann, even though Leigh Ann was bent over the dishwasher piling dirty dishes inside. Her beautiful ass was in the air, and the short skirt she wore barely covered her ass cheeks.
Swallowing down the desire that shot to his throat, Wes curled his fingers into his palms, and strode toward the kitchen, but his eyes stayed on her enticing curves. He decided that if she had on underwear under that short skirt, it was of the thong variety. Not a scrap of material covered the bottom of her firm round cheeks. With a muffled curse, Wes adjusted himself then stomped into the kitchen.
After a wiggle, which made the hem of the skirt dance, Leigh Ann stood, shut the dishwasher and pushed the button, then gave him that knee-melting smile of hers.
"Oh, Wes..." she drawled, then her tongue darted out to lick her gorgeous lips as she held his gaze. She bit her lower lip and he held back a groan. "Your sandwich is in the refrigerator." She turned and the skirt swished again. Wes's eyes followed her to the sink, until Trey squealed to catch his attention.
"Daddy, Miss Leigh Ann made me a nutter butter sandwich! It's better than Nana's! She put bananas on it for me." Trey took a big bite of the sandwich and grinned. Wes could see for himself how good it was in the gap between Trey's teeth.
"That's great, sport," Wes said then turned his gaze back to Leigh Ann.
Soft tendrils of blonde hair had escaped her ponytail and stuck to her damp flushed cheeks. Her makeup was different. It looked like she put on extra or something, because her blue eyes stood out like jewels in her face, they were smoky and mysterious, and her lips were glossy, lusher than he remembered.
She noticed him looking evidently, because after a sly smile, her eyes raked down his body slowly, stopping at his crotch for a beat, before her tongue darted out to wet her mouth again. Like a camera, flashes of where that tongue had been on his body early this morning, and the havoc it wreaked, entered his mind and made Wes even harder. His fly was so tight now, he thought he might bust the zipper on his jeans at any second. But he knew that was going to be an ongoing state for him, until she moved out.
The thought of her leaving acted like a splash of water in his face, and helped the situation some, but not nearly enough.
"Wes?" she asked batting her eyes innocently.
"Yeah?" he responded, entranced by the hemmed edge of her scooped neck tank top, which barely covered her hardened nipples from his view. She was turned on, and he was turned on, but there would be no relief for the situation. His eyes darted to Trey who popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. Trey was here, and Leigh Ann didn't want to go there with him again. It's done.
"Your roast beef sandwich is in the fridge, would you like me to get it for you?" she offered tilting her head to the side.
; "Sure, thanks...a beer too, please," he grumbled then dragged his eyes back to Trey as he made his way around the breakfast bar to sit beside him.
Wes's eyes latched onto her ass again, as Leigh Ann opened the refrigerator then bent inside to pull out the sandwich plate and a beer. She turned around then stopped at the edge of the counter to pop the cap off of his beer. Holding his gaze, she licked the rim, then tipped it up to take a long drink. Now, his damned beer was going to taste like those lips, he thought as she slid it across the bar to him with a coy smile.
She passed him his sandwich, then announced, "I'm going to eat in the living room and watch some TV."
"Fine," he growled, but his eyes followed her as she sashayed toward the sofa.
Wes would have to talk to her about putting on more clothes around Trey. His son didn't need to see all that, and Wes damned sure didn't either. He took a large bite of his sandwich, and gasped.
The bitter taste of mustard overwhelmed his taste buds, and stung his eyes. She must've put the whole jar on his sandwich. He rolled the bite around a time or two, trying to get his breath back, then picked up his beer and almost drank what was left in the bottle to wash out his mouth. He glanced toward the sofa, and met her eyes. Leigh Ann lifted her sandwich to him and smiled softly, before she turned back toward the TV.
After he finished his sandwich, because he didn't want to hurt her feelings, Wes picked up his and Trey's plates and took them to the sink. Trey announced that he was going outside to play with Silas before dark. Wes searched around for an excuse to keep his son inside, his buffer between him and the woman who temptation incarnate, but came up empty. Trey darted out the patio door, and Wes was left standing there with another beer in his hand, staring at the living room, at Leigh Ann, who was now sitting in his recliner flipping through the channels.
Maybe he could make it to his room, he thought, and walked softly toward the stairs. His foot touched the first tread, and he thought he was home free, but Leigh Ann's soft sweet voice teased from the sofa, "You going to bed already? It's not even dark, old man."
Old man? He felt like an old man right about now...worn out and used up. Wes was older than the sassy blonde bombshell, who he estimated was twenty-six or seven.
But old man? He thought he had shown her last night he was up to any challenge she could throw at him...and then some. With a growl, he stomped toward the living room.
He'd show her old man.
Plopping down on the sofa, he propped one calf on his thigh, because he needed the room in his jeans. His eyes darted over to her in the recliner, and he almost fell off of the sofa. She had thrown her leg over the arm of the chair, and the hem of her skirt was bunched up at the top of her smooth thighs, exposing her soft pink folds to him. She didn't have on fucking underwear!
Fire shot to his crotch, and Wes groaned. "Didn't your mama teach you how to sit like a lady?" he asked as if he were the old man she had accused him of being.
Leigh Ann popped the last piece of sandwich into her mouth, then swallowed a long drink of her beer, exposing the long column of her throat, a place he had concentrated on licking last night, before looking at him.
Lust slammed into him like a fist to the stomach, when she turned the full power of those intense bright blue eyes on him, as she flicked the volume button on the remote to turn it down. "Did you say something?" she asked shifting toward him in the chair, thrusting her hips forward, which gave him a full on view of the pretty pink folds between her legs.
Desire rocked him and Wes shot to his feet and shouted, "Close your damned legs!"
Her hands flew to her chest and her eyes widened. Leigh Ann batted her eyes twice as if not understanding, then let her hands drift down over her breasts toward her lap, her fingers brushed her nipples and they hardened. So did Wes, painfully so.
"What?" she asked innocently.
Wes gritted his teeth. "Close your legs, Leigh Ann. My son is in this house!"
"He went outside, didn't he?" she asked and batted her eyes again.
"Just close your damned legs," he repeated in a higher pitched voice.
Her full lower lip stuck out then she bit the side then said, "I was hot."
She was fucking hot all right, hot enough that she had him sweating. Wes wasn't sure, but he had a niggling suspicion she was doing this crap on purpose. For what reason he had no idea. She said she didn't want to have sex with him again, but here she was teasing him out of his mind.
"I'm going outside with Trey," he growled then took a step toward the back door, but his phone rang in his pocket. Wes stopped in the dining room and pushed the button, "Yeah?" he answered gruffly.
It was the manager of a farm on the north side of town who had two cows that broke out of their pasture. The animals had injuries and the manager thought they needed to be looked at tonight. Wes had never been happier to be called out to work. He told the man it would be forty-five minutes or so, before he could get there.
He hung up the phone, then announced, "I've got a farm call, I'm calling my mother to come and get Trey."
"I can watch him until you get back," she offered sitting up in the chair to pull her skirt over her legs.
"I don't think that's a good id--" he started, but she stood and held up her hand.
"He can stay here with me," she insisted. "We'll be fine. There's no sense in bothering your mother."
Wes thought about it, studied her for a second then decided she was right. His mom had just come off of vacation, and was most likely doing laundry. She was probably bone tired. Pointing a finger at her though, he said, "Don't corrupt my son! Get some underwear on, please. He needs a bath and to be in bed by ten o'clock."
Her face flushed, but the corner of her mouth kicked up as she told him, "It's Friday night, Wes...ten o'clock? Really?" As if he were the old man she had accused him of being.
"Ten o'clock," he repeated firmly. "I'll probably be back by then anyway," he said gruffly on the way to the front door, where he mumbled, "Thank you."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Leigh Ann had no idea why she offered to keep Trey while Wes went on his farm call. Other than she liked the kid, really liked him, and wanted to spend a little more time with him before she left here. He was funny, and charming and so innocent. The world through his eyes was a wonderful place. So unlike his jaded father.
Like a broken record, Wes's words to his mother had been playing in her mind all afternoon. The more they played, the more irritated she became. How dare he, do that to her, say those things about her as if knew her. The man evidently didn't know a damned thing about her. She was not selfish, she cared about people too much. Many, many times in her life, she had put their needs above her own.
She didn't cheat or lie, either like his ex-wife had done. Well, except for the tiny lie by omission. She still hadn't told him about being Miss Texas. Because she had promised her sister she wouldn't. But Leigh Ann was a good person, there was no reason for him to think that about her. She hadn't done anything to make him believe that about her.
He wasn't any better than the men she had been engaged to before. They had all used her, or wanted to do that. The only difference was at least those four men treated her with respect, and like they thought she was worth something other than a good time in bed. Even if that was only decorating their arm, making other men envy them, and making them feel important, when she was with them. Wes treated her like she was worthless, a waste of his time. He would get rid of her, but not before he paid for being such an ass.
Leigh Ann wasn't vindictive, before now she didn't have a mean bone in her body. She let everyone walk all over her, and smiled while they did it. Not anymore, she was changing that. Today. Wes had done her a favor by making her mad enough to find her backbone. She would need it to find her independence, and maybe then her sister would respect her at least.
The front door flung back on its hinges and Trey ran inside, waited for Silas to follow him, then slammed it behind him. His sneakers sq
ueaked across the floor, and he skidded to a stop beside the sofa.
"Hey, Miss Leigh Ann!" he said with a grin then put his hands on his hips. "Where'd my daddy go?"
"He had a farm call," she informed then wrinkled her nose. "What's that smell?" she asked swallowing hard as her sandwich seesawed in her stomach.
"Silas found a dead coon, and rolled on it. He likes to do that." With a shrug of his shoulders, he added with a small smile, "I tried to stop him..."
Gagging a couple times, Leigh Ann realized it was both the boy and the dog that reeked. "Goodness, ya'll stink," she said pinching her nose.
"You'll get used to it," he replied with a giggle.
"I don't think so, sir....ya'll both need a bath. You go upstairs and get in the tub, and I'll bathe Silas outside."
"Okay," Trey said as he ran for the stairs.
"Wait!" Leigh Ann shouted behind him. She went to the kitchen to get a garbage bag from under the sink, then handing it to him instructed, "Put your clothes in this bag and tie it up."
"Really?" His hazel eyes looked unsure, but he took the bag.
"Yes sir, I'll wash them later." Trey needed to wash up right now though, the smell was overwhelming. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes watered, as she pointed a finger at the stairs and ordered, "Tub...now."
Trey took off for the stairs, and Silas tried to follow, but she grabbed his collar and dragged him toward the patio doors. "Oh, no you don't...we're going outside to clean you up," she informed the filthy hound dog, as she stopped to open the door and pull him outside. He put on the brakes on the concrete, and she tried to pick him up to carry him to the side of the house where she had seen the hose, but he was too heavy for her to lift.
Evidently the dog knew what was coming, and wasn't on board with the idea.
"Come on, Silas, work with me here," she grumbled and got a better grip on his collar, managing to get him to the steps. A bottle of dog shampoo, sitting in the corner caught her eye, and she figured this wasn't the first time he had been bathed out there, probably for the same reason.
