by Janice Lynn
“Guess all that book-reading paid off in the long run. Look at her now—a doctor,” Rosy said, smiling at Darby. “We’re all so proud of her accomplishments, aren’t we?”
“Sure thing,” Jim grunted, at his wife’s elbow jabbing his ribs.
Darby sent Rosy a grateful smile. Not that she bought her claim. Her parents would have been proud if she’d married a good ole boy straight out of school, had a half-dozen babies and farmed for a living. Becoming a doctor and living six hours away didn’t even register on their “proud” radar.
They hadn’t come to her graduation ceremony.
Or to the opening of her and Blake’s clinic.
To give them credit, Rosy had given birth that same weekend—which she’d apologized for time and again. As if she’d had any control over when her son entered the world. But Darby had never been convinced her parents would have come regardless. To her knowledge, they’d never left sweet home Alabama.
“She is an amazing woman, isn’t she?” Blake turned toward her, brushed her hair away from her face, and gave her a look that turned her to melted goo right then and there on her mother’s sofa.
“I can’t imagine not having her in my life,” he continued, his voice low, seductive. He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed the softest of kisses to her fingers.
Her breath hung in her throat, threatening to choke her. She couldn’t pull her gaze from his dark one.
He’d been overdoing the lovey-dovey stuff all night, constantly touching her, smiling at her, looking at her as if he was visually stripping off her clothes and liking what he found.
Looking at her as if she was his whole world.
As he was doing at the moment.
Even though she knew he was role-playing, her body perked up to heights that made her mind feel a little numb and her body tingle in places she had no business to be tingling while sitting on her mother’s sofa.
She’d wanted him to notice her, to be aware she was a woman, but was she really prepared to face the consequences of what she’d set into motion this weekend? Was she ready to lose what they had in hopes of winning love’s jackpot?
CHAPTER FOUR
“HEY, sis, can I talk with you a moment?”
Darby turned toward her brother, alarmed at the concern in his voice. He knew, didn’t he?
“What is it, Jim?”
If any of her brothers was going to realize her relationship with Blake was phony, she’d have guessed Jim. He’d always been able to see right through her.
“I’m worried about Mom.”
Both relief and concern filled Darby. “What about her?”
“She’s not been herself for the past few days.”
“Because of her shingles, you mean?”
Jim scratched his blond head. “Maybe. I’m not a doctor, but I think something more is going on than her rash.”
“What makes you think that?”
“She hasn’t acted right.”
“In what way?”
“I’ve seen her pressing her hand to her chest and wincing.”
His words caused Darby to wince. Her mother was having chest pain? “What does she say?”
“That she’s fine, and I should mind my own business.”
Sounded just like Nellie Phillips.
“I’ll talk to her and see if I can convince her to go in for a check-up on Monday.”
“I’d appreciate it. Dad doesn’t say much, but I can tell he’s concerned, too. Yesterday she had to come inside and lay down for a while.”
“Really?”
“Yep, and she’s been snapping at him.”
Her mother didn’t snap. She gave orders, expected them to be obeyed, and tolerated no disobeying.
“I’ll corner her before Blake and I leave and find out what’s going on as best as I can.”
“What’s going on with you and this guy, sis? I like him, but there’s something about him that doesn’t sit well.”
“It’s probably just because he’s dating your baby sister.”
“Possibly.” Jim glanced toward where Blake sat, surrounded by the Phillips womenfolk. “Are you serious about him?”
How did she answer? She couldn’t lie to Jim. Not directly. “He’s my business partner. Would I risk messing up our partnership if I wasn’t serious about him?”
Her brother’s mouth twisted and his gaze went back to Blake. “Possibly,” he repeated. “With what happened with Trey, I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Darby swallowed. Her whole life wasn’t measured by what had happened with Trey. Sure, she hadn’t trusted a man until Blake, and that had taken years, but that was because she’d learned a valuable lesson, not because she’d been traumatized by Trey’s betrayal. “That was over ten years ago.”
“Ten years in which I’ve not seen you with another guy.”
She’d dated. Rarely, and never for long enough to get close to any of them, but she had dated.
“We live in different states. You don’t know how many guys I’ve been with.” At Jim’s scowl, she added, “Besides, Blake’s a good guy. The best.”
Her oldest brother shot another uneasy glance toward where Blake sat with the Phillips women. “He seems crazy about you.”
Crazy being the key word.
Darby snapped her seatbelt and kept her smile pasted onto her face. No doubt lots of eyeballs stared out the front windows. She’d wait until they were out of sight before she tore into Blake, possibly dismembering him and tossing him into one of the chicken barns for what he’d done.
“That went well.”
Darby inwardly scowled at the pleased-with-himself man pulling out of her parents’ driveway. Was he insane?
Her entire family now expected her to announce that Blake was “the one”, they were getting hitched, planned to buy the old Donahue place down near the lake, set up practice, and raise a family of their own.
She glanced into the side mirror to make sure her brothers hadn’t jumped into a pick-up and followed them. Not only were there no headlights, but she could barely see the house or the four long barns off in the distance.
“I’m going to strangle you,” she warned, curling her fingers into tight fists.
“I thought I did better than that.”
“Better? There was no reason to put on a show in front of my parents, my family. You acted like a lovesick puppy. Now they think something’s going on between us.”
His brows knit together and he cast an odd look toward her. “Wasn’t that the idea? For me to make them think I was crazy about you? To pretend that you were my whole world?”
“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know.” Clearly she hadn’t thought through the consequences of bringing Blake to Armadillo Lake for the weekend. She should have made peace with Rodney rather than hope to open Blake’s eyes. Rodney was easy enough to explain away, and would have been bored to tears with her family. And would have bored her family to tears with his polished exterior.
Blake was not so easily explained away.
As her business partner, he was a part of her everyday life. After tonight’s performance, her parents probably thought something had been going on between them for years.
No wonder. He’d been the perfect date—had he really been her date, that was. He’d been attentive, considerate, affectionate, had blatantly stared her brothers in the eyes, daring them to deny his right to date their sister, earned their grudging approval before the evening had ended, wooed her sisters-in-law, charmed her parents. He’d played his role too well. Way too well.
When he’d pulled her fingers to his lips and kissed them, in front of God and the entire Phillips clan, she’d had a momentary mental and physical lapse and wanted him to kiss more than just her fingers.
She’d wanted him to kiss her all over.
And she’d wanted to press her lips to his throat and kiss him. All over.
For real.
When she’d finally been able to drag her gaze from Blake’s, her mother
had been smiling. Not just smiling, but smiling smiling.
No doubt her mother was pulling out her grandmother’s veil this very moment, envisioning how the simple pearl and gauzy netting would look on her daughter’s head. “Finally,” she’d be saying to her daughters-in-law.
Her mother would be heartbroken if she knew the truth.
“I’m definitely going to strangle you.”
“You want to strangle me?” He checked for oncoming traffic prior to pulling onto the main highway that would take them the ten miles back into Armadillo Lake. “I’m disappointed. I was sure you’d be pleased and relinquish the entire top side of the bed as reward for my good behavior.”
“Good behavior? Are you kidding? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” How could she look at him and not long for what they’d pretended this weekend? Not want him to want her for real? Having tasted the sweetness of his affections—even knowing they were pretend—she just couldn’t envision going back into the desolate wasteland that had made up her personal life. She covered her face with her hands. “This is horrible. They’re expecting us to be married by Christmas, and are no doubt at this very moment discussing what they’re going to wear to our wedding.”
“Why? Do they try to marry you off to every man you bring home?” He chuckled. Chuckled. As if he hadn’t turned her life upside down with his hot looks and incessant touches. As if he hadn’t just waved her parents’ fondest dream in front of them—Darby married and back in Armadillo Lake.
As if he hadn’t just waved her fondest dream in front of her—him.
“If I gave them the opportunity.” She wiped her face, knowing she’d pay for tonight’s show for months to come. For years. She wouldn’t live tonight down until she brought home a man for real. And how she’d live this down in her heart she had no idea. Regardless of the outcome, this weekend would forever haunt her heart, her dreams. “I’ve never brought a man home.”
That got his attention, causing him to slow down the vehicle and glance toward her. “Never? Not even Trey Nix?”
Darby sucked in air. “Trey doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
She shook her head. “He just doesn’t.”
Technically, neither Trey nor Blake counted.
After all, they’d both only been faking their feelings for her.
Darby had washed her face, moisturized, brushed her teeth, flossed, and combed her hair. She’d put on the modest pajamas the sales clerk had assured her were sexy without looking like she was trying to be sexy.
Time to face the music. Or, more aptly, Blake in a hotel room bed. Why was she acting so crazy? It wasn’t as if he were lying there waiting for her to come to him like a virginal bride. It wasn’t as if anything was going to happen between them just because he’d looked at her with desire earlier, then pretended to love her all evening.
It wasn’t as if anything was going to happen between them just because she hoped with all her heart that he’d someday really want her the way she wanted him.
She gulped back her nervousness and opened the bathroom door.
Light from the television illuminated the hotel room, casting shadows and short bursts of brightness across Blake’s face. He sat in the bed, all the pillows, including hers from home, propped behind his bare back.
Where was his shirt?
Where had he gotten all those muscles?
She’d known he had a nice body, but, oh my, she hadn’t known he’d been hiding all those beautifully sculpted lines and planes. If business ever got bad, they could run an ad of Blake wearing low-slung jeans, no shirt, and his stethoscope dangling from his neck. Business would be through the roof in no time.
Her pulse was already there.
Her gaze lowered. Pajama bottoms rode low on his narrow hips. The comforter bunched at his waist, hiding everything beneath the dark navy waistband.
“I thought you’d decided to sleep in the tub,” he teased, thankfully unaware of her thoughts.
“Not likely.” But if a functioning spine wasn’t necessary for the following day, she might grab her pillow and give the tub a shot. How could she not have known what an awesome six-pack Blake sported?
No wonder women flocked to him, were devastated when he moved on to the next beauty who caught his eye. Four years and she’d never seen the man’s naked torso. Now she’d never be able to forget—never be able to look at him and not know what he hid beneath those tailored shirts.
Lord help her.
Lord help him. Because she really wanted to just tell him how beautiful she thought his body was, how beautiful she found his heart and soul, his sense of humor, everything about him.
As if sleeping in the same bed with him was no big deal, she climbed in and tugged her pillow out from behind him. “Give me that.”
As if sleeping with her were no big deal, he grinned at her. “I was warming it up for you. Say thanks”
“Thanks.” What he’d done was make her pillow smell of his musky scent, all spice, sandalwood, and Blake.
“I turned the air down. That okay? I sleep better when the room is a little cool.”
“Fine.” She didn’t need a play-by-play of his sleeping habits. Really. Just knowing they were going to be in the same bed, sharing the same blankets, that her pillow smelled of him, was already playing havoc with her imagination and her will power not to roll over and jump him.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself of mind over matter. She could do this. She soooo didn’t want to run her fingers over those indentions on his stomach. She didn’t want to trace each outline of that six-pack. With her hands. Her mouth. Nope, she was immune to Blake’s charms if all he wanted from her was sex.
She was a mighty oak that couldn’t be swayed by pin-up calendar abs and spicy musk that made a woman want to deeply inhale. Not her.
Right.
But maybe if she kept telling herself she didn’t want him, she’d make it through the night without embarrassing herself.
Because she wanted so much more from Blake than just sex.
She wanted him. The whole package.
“I called the hospital and spoke with the night nurse. All of our patients are doing about the same. Dr. Kingston made a round on them this evening and introduced himself.”
See, even lying there half-naked, with her on the opposite side of the bed, Blake was only thinking business. Just because she’d hoped this weekend would jumpstart their relationship into who knew what, that didn’t mean he knew she’d asked him to Alabama innocently enough the afternoon the reunion invitation arrived, but quickly realized she hoped for much more.
“He plans to stop by the hospital in the morning.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” She’d meant to call and check on Mr. Hill and Mrs. Mayo after they’d first gotten back to the hotel room, but she’d been distracted by Blake pulling his acoustic guitar from its case. Somewhere between the country music classics she’d forgotten everything except soaking in Blake’s hypnotic voice.
She tugged on the covers, tucking the material around her neck.
“You ready for the light to go out?”
Light? Oh, he meant the television. “Sure. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
He clicked the remote, then put the device onto the nightstand next to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Darby.”
“Goodnight, Blake.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“You too.
They lay in the dark for a long time, with Darby acutely aware of each breath he took, of every movement of his body, of the fact his beautiful chest was bare beneath the sheet. All she’d have to do was reach out to feel those hard muscles bunched beneath his smooth skin.
She could accidentally brush against him. Just a quick brush of her fingertips against all that temptation.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked after a few minutes.
Because now that I’ve seen your chest I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again.
�
�Why aren’t you?”
“I was thinking.”
That you should put on a shirt, because you’re the stuff fantasies are made of and I’m the last woman in the world you’d want to have those kind of fantasies about you?
“About?”
“What it must have been like growing up at your house.”
Huh? She rolled onto her side, staring at his barely perceptible silhouette through the darkness. “Why would you think about that?”
She felt his shrug more than saw it.
“I liked your family.”
He did? Why did that cause happy bubbles to dance in her belly? Until that moment she hadn’t admitted to herself how much she’d hoped Blake had liked her family.
“They liked you, too. Even if my brothers didn’t know quite what to think of me bringing home a city boy.”
He shifted, and she expected him to roll over and go to sleep. Instead his hand clasped hers, lacing their fingers in a warm hold that she guessed was supposed to be friendly. Friendly didn’t cover the excited tingles working their way through her body, starting somewhere in the pit of her belly and radiating outward, sensitizing every cell along the way.
“Tell me about them.”
“My brothers?” She didn’t move, just lay in the bed, acutely aware of his presence, acutely aware of the fact that for the dozenth time that day he held her hand and each time he’d thrown her heart into a tailspin of longing.
“Yes.”
Her brothers. Where did she start? “John and I were always the closest when I lived at home. Probably because he’s the youngest of the boys and only a year older than me,” she began, tugging her pillow down a bit with her free hand. “But since Jim and Rosy married, I see them most often. They usually come up twice a year to go to a football game, and they never miss the Tennessee/Alabama game.”
Long into the night, they talked. She told him about her family, life on the farm, about her favorite pets while growing up. At any point she grew silent he’d ask another question, and Darby would let more of her life spill into the darkness, thinking perhaps Blake had really hypnotized her with his music. Or maybe the darkness made her feel safe in sharing so much. Otherwise she’d never be lying in bed with the sexiest man she’d ever known, holding his hand and telling him all about her crazy but lovable family, and her rather ordinary childhood, growing up on a farm, that seemed to fascinate him.
