All That Matters

  The motel attached to the Cactus Pear Bar and Grill wasn’t the fanciest establishment in the area, but it was far enough away from Liberty for Faith to feel sure her daddy wouldn’t be bothering them.

  She listened, wide-eyed, as the desk clerk explained there were no vacancies. How could that be when the place didn’t even deserve a three-star rating?

  “Big convention in town this weekend,” the clerk said. “Most everything is filled right up. Sorry, folks.”

  Buddy Lee turned to Faith. “Got any other ideas?”

  She hesitated. “My place isn’t too far from here, but there’s no bed. Or any other furniture,” she quickly added, not wanting to give the impression she was only thinking about their sleeping arrangements, although she was. “We’d have to sleep on the floor.” Their only other option was to return to Buddy Lee’s house, and she was afraid of what might happen if Royce decided to show up there. Besides, it was late and they hadn’t had any dinner. “We could pick up a pizza on the way.”

  The way his stomach was growling, he’d have agreed to most anything edible, even though pizza was way down on his list of likeables. Chicken-fried steak, now that was a man’s meal.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said, putting as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could muster. Then he remembered something that made him smile from the inside out. “And don’t worry about a bed. I always carry a sleeping bag in the truck.”

  Chapter Four

  The spicy aroma of thick-crusted pizza with extra cheese, no onions, filled the empty apartment with a cozy warmth that almost had Buddy Lee relaxing. Almost.

  His wife—man, I love the sound of that word—sat cross-legged on the old red sleeping bag he’d spread out over the carpeted floor, licking pizza sauce from her lips the way a contented cat licks cream from its whiskers. He watched, mesmerized, as the tip of her tongue slid out and slowly circled her mouth. His nervous system was anything but relaxed. Wired was more like it. A rocket ready to launch. Didn’t matter, though. He’d have to keep those twinges of longing to himself. Just friends, Walker. Remember that.

  “Mmmm, I love pizza, don’t you?” She smiled and reached for another slice. “I’m sorry this turned out to be such a horrible day.” She touched his arm, suddenly full of sympathy. “Does your nose still hurt?”

  “No, not a bit.” Hell, yes. He helped himself to more pizza. It hurt to chew, but he was too hungry to care. And he sure wasn’t going to admit to a little bit of pain. Not on your life. He was supposed to be the rescuer here.

  She passed him a bottle of water. He took it and wished for a cold beer. And pain pills. And all the things he knew could never be.

  “This is absolutely the worst predicament I’ve ever put us in, isn’t it?” Faith’s voice was soft, but he heard her loud and clear.

  They were stretched out side by side on the sleeping bag, Buddy Lee struggling to put more space between his rigid body and Faith’s soft, tempting one. This was a whole lot different than sleeping on the sofa while she’d been occupying his bed. At least then, there’d been the bedroom wall between them. He tried not to think about how close they were now.

  The swirled pattern of the apartment’s Berber carpet had already imprinted itself in his shoulder, right next to the teeth marks from the bag’s zippered edge. Careful not to breach the six or so inches separating them, he shifted to find a more comfortable position. There was none. If he moved his arm forward, he’d touch the softness of her shoulder. If he moved his leg to straighten it, he’d brush against the smooth length of hers. If he didn’t make either of those moves, he’d likely die of frustration. He wanted to touch her and knew he shouldn’t. Their marriage was just on paper.

  Rolling over on his side, he propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down at her. With his knuckles, he gently coaxed her face toward his. He wanted to see her eyes when they spoke. Needed to search for answers in their depths—to have her look at him with the same longing that curled inside his gut. Wanted to watch those soft lips curve into a smile. Man, he was turning to mush. Correction. Not all parts of his anatomy. Nope, certain parts were painfully hard.

  “Buddy Lee, did you hear what I said?”

  “Hmmm?” Her eyes were the clearest, richest green he’d ever seen. Her mouth was full, ripe, and he wanted ....

  Her forefinger poked at his chest. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

  With her face so close and her mouth so lush and inviting, did she really expect him to make conversation, for cryin’ out loud?

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze never straying from her mouth.

  She frowned, and he resented being distracted from the totally enticing images floating around in his mind.

  “Honestly, Buddy Lee, aren’t you the least bit upset? I mean, this time I really got us in deep.” She trailed her hand down the long, taut muscle of his forearm until her fingers met his. Stayed there.

  He made a fist around her hand, but kept staring at her mouth. Couldn’t tear his gaze away. He should say something, but no words came out. All he wanted was to capture a taste of her lips. Yeah, his mouth on hers. Her mouth on....

  With a sudden, painful return to reality, he rocketed off the sleeping bag. “Upset? Upset? Hell, yes, I’m upset.” She didn’t know the half of it. Sweet mercy, he needed to find a tub full of ice and jump in. Diving in head first would be even better. Why had he ever thought he could be married to Faith without touching her? He was no saint. Didn’t want to be.

  He paced the room, careful to keep his back to her. When his body relaxed so he could finally turn around, she was watching him through eyes wide and damp. Aw, shoot, now he’d made her cry.

  “Darlin’, don’t do that,” he said, and hurried to kneel beside her. “I shouldn’t have yelled, you being pregnant and all. I’m sorry.” He rubbed her hands between his. “Can I get you something? Water?” He glanced around the bare room. “More pizza?”

  “I really believe you’re more naive than I am, Buddy Lee.” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “Don’t you know pregnant women cry most of the time? And for no apparent reason?”

  “Now, how would I know anything about that?” Was he in for eight more months of her tears?

  “Isn’t this silly? Here I am, pregnant by a man I loathe, but married to my best friend who’s agreed to give my child his name, and I’m the one being a crybaby. I should be thanking you, not bawling all over you.”

  She sniffled and Buddy Lee automatically reached for his handkerchief, but he’d forgotten he’d used it on his battered nose, so he snagged a paper napkin from the stack next to the pizza box instead.

  He gave her the napkin. “Let’s start over, okay?”

  Faith blinked rapidly several times, then dabbed at her weepy eyes.

  “You’re absolutely right. We need to plan our strategy. Obviously we can’t live here.” She waved her hand at the empty room. “Living with Daddy and Mama is out, too.”

  Damn straight. Buddy Lee nearly laughed out loud at that astute observation He kept quiet because he’d just discovered that as long as Faith stayed busy making plans, she forgot to cry. And if that’s what it took to make her happy, he was willing to put up with a truck load of plan-making. He reckoned that before long there’d be a baby to take over the crying business when Faith finished with her part. He wasn’t sure just how that was going to work out.

  A reckless thought about needing a bigger house darted across his confused mind. Just as swiftly, he rejected it. Shoot, he could barely afford the one he had, even if it was small. At least he owned it free and clear after years of scrimping and saving, so old man Morgan’s bank couldn’t put a claim on it. The house was the only thing his no-account daddy never got his hands on.

  “Where do you want to live, darlin’?” Might as well ask, but the way he had it figured, there was only one answer to that. His place or no place. He had a business to run and he sure couldn’t do it from Granite City.

  Faith g
ave him a thoughtful appraisal, then said, “I guess we’ll have to live in your house. I’ll never go back to the other one. I don’t care how much Daddy paid for it.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I’ll keep it for a while. I can commute.” She clapped a hand to her chest. “Oh, my gosh, I just remembered my car is still at the subdivision–at the other house.”

  “No problem. We’ll get it tomorrow,” he assured her.

  She shook her head, her cinnamon locks swinging wildly. “No, no, you don’t understand. We can’t go back there. Not tomorrow. We can’t show up in town or even near that house for a few weeks, at least. Didn’t you hear me tell Daddy we were going on a honeymoon?”

  “Honeymoon? But I have to open my shop, Faith. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ve got customers waiting for their cars.” No customers, no income. Simple math. “I need the money,” he said, feeling like a jerk but knowing that now he would have to count pennies even closer than ever.

  Admitting his shaky financial condition was humiliating, but Faith had a right to know they weren’t likely to be living in high cotton. Not on what he took in repairing cars. Besides, it wasn’t like this whole thing had been his idea.

  His knees ached from kneeling beside her for so long, but he was reluctant to let go of her hands. Just holding them created a warm sensation around his heart. An anchor to reality. The enormity of all that had transpired between them in the last few days was almost more than his poor brain could comprehend.

  After the first shock had rocked him, he’d been caught up in the explosive heat of the moment. Like a dream come true, the love of his life would actually become his wife and he would be her rescuer and hero. Happy-ever-after stuff. He hadn’t thought beyond the wild excitement of the fantasy until now, when reality slapped him upside the head. Hard.

  There was more to it than just being married. More than even the prospect of being a dad. Now he would have to think of someone other than himself—a wife and child. Of their safety, well-being and their reputation in the community. The banker’s daughter was actually married to the convict’s son. How about that, folks? And the ex-fiancé’s abrupt personality change was strange enough to make Buddy Lee suspicious and more than a little wary. He wondered if any of them were really safe. Talk about alligators on his ass. Their numbers were increasing.

  Faith watched her new husband wrestle with his thoughts and something akin to tenderness welled up inside her. He was such a dear friend. She pulled free from his hands and placed hers on either side of his face.

  “I don’t want you to worry about the money part, Buddy Lee,” she said, looking deep into his dark brown eyes. “My job pays well enough and I’ve got some savings, plus paid maternity leave. Besides, I never intended for you to support me and my baby without doing my share. It’s enough that you’ve given us your name. That’s all I wanted.”

  When he flinched, she knew she’d said everything all wrong. What she’d asked of him sounded tacky. Selfish.

  “I didn’t mean...Oh, please, don’t look at me like that. I only meant I promise not to be any more trouble. Trust me.”

  A look of total disbelief flashed across his face, prompting her to lean forward and give his cheek a quick peck. “I’ve said that before, haven’t I?”

  After a pause that lasted long enough to make her wonder if he was ever going to answer, he said, “Many times.”

  The huskiness of his voice and the way his eyes darkened sent a shiver of excitement dancing along her spine. She had the craziest urge to plant a real kiss right on his mouth. What on earth was wrong with her? Probably something hormonal, she supposed, dismissing it as simply part of being pregnant.

  “Well,” she said, after choosing a slice of nearly-cold pizza and picking the olives off one by one, “here’s what we’ll do. You go to your shop first thing in the morning, call your customers and have them pick up their cars before ten o’clock, then pack a few clothes and come back here.” She popped two of the olives in her mouth. “In the meantime, I’ll go shopping for a few things I need and be ready to leave when you get here. Our flight leaves at three-fifteen. We can be on the beach before sundown.”

  Suspicion flickered in his steady gaze. “And just where would we be going?”

  She loved the quirky way his eyebrows twitched when he tried to do the "older brother" act. It was so familiar. Even after all this time, she still felt completely at ease around him. A good thing, since they were a married couple now.

  “To Mexico. On a honeymoon.” The reservations she’d made at a very private resort would be a perfect hideaway now, as well as compensation for all the trouble she’d put him through. How could he refuse a “thank you” as tempting as a tropical vacation? She’d just cancel Royce’s plane ticket and buy one for Buddy Lee. Simple. Besides, who knew what Daddy or Royce might do when she and her new husband returned home?

  “The best thing for us to do right now is disappear for a while.” She gave him her most persuasive smile. “You do have a passport, don’t you?”

  Buddy Lee couldn’t get his mouth to move. Words stuck in his throat, frozen in place by total shock. His strangled protest finally tumbled out. “Yeah, I got one last year, but Mexico? Have you lost your mind?” His heart kicked into double-time. “For cryin’ out loud, Faith! You never said anything about leaving town. There was nothing in the deal about that. I can’t go anywhere. Besides, a trip like that will cost a fortune. In case you haven’t noticed, my name isn’t Rockefeller or Trump. I’ve got exactly three dollars in my pocket right now, and that’s counting all the change.”

  To prove it, he shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out two wrinkled bills and a handful of change. “Unless I’ve won the Lottery and don’t know it, I can’t even afford to buy your breakfast.”

  Deep in thought, he walked over to the sliding glass door that led to a balcony and stood looking out into the night, hands clasped behind his back. Mexico. When had she come up with that cockamamie idea? A honeymoon with Faith. On a beach. Under a hot tropical sky. Frosty margaritas and mariachi bands. Knock it off, Walker, you’re fantasizing again. She’s pregnant and this is only a friendly arrangement. The whole honeymoon thing is out of the question. He felt like a husband-for-hire. Well, shoot, isn’t that what he really was?

  Faith walked up behind him and circled his waist in a hesitant hug. "Don’t be mad, Buddy Lee. I guess I wanted to pretend.”

  She nestled her head on his back. Right between his shoulder blades. A rush of hot desire circled dangerously close to his heart, then shot lower to settle south of his belt buckle as her breathy words scorched right through his shirt. He closed his eyes. This is never gonna work. Just shoot me now.

  Turning around, he unlocked her arms but kept her hands clasped in his. “Faith, darlin’, this isn’t one of your ‘give-Daddy-a-hard-time’ stunts. This is major stuff we’re dealing with. Marriage. A baby. The whole enchilada.”

  “I know, but it seems like such a waste not to use the plane tickets and the resort reservations.”

  “Doesn’t Royce have those?” He was pretty sure the groom usually took care of stuff like that.

  “No, the honeymoon was a gift from Daddy, like the house, but I made the reservations in my name. Royce didn’t want to be bothered with the details.”

  When she looked up at him with those soft green eyes full of temptation, he swore the alligators were circling.

  “I promise we’ll have a good time, Buddy Lee. When was the last time you had an honest-to-goodness fun vacation?”

  That was like asking when the last time was he’d had a birthday party. He could answer both questions with one word. Never.

  He was totally confused. How could she gush tears like a faucet one minute and be so smiley-faced the next? “Aren’t you the least bit afraid your daddy will come tearing after us? Sure wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out where we’d gone.”

  Taking his hand, she led him back to the makeshift bed on the f
loor and pulled him down beside her. She sat with her legs curled around and leaned in so she could look straight into his eyes. “I never got around to telling him the name of the resort,” she admitted. “Or even that I’d picked Mexico as our destination. Royce doesn’t know, either, because I wanted to surprise him.”

  Buddy Lee didn’t know whether to laugh or run scared. With her body pressing smack up against him like their being married was as normal as a Texas ninety-degree day, his own temperature soared. If she had any more surprises tonight, there was one in particular he’d like to suggest. Damn straight!

  “Mexico, huh?” Well, why not? He’d use the time to figure out what to do about Royce and decide how he was going to support a ready-made family. His life had already spun a three-sixty. Might as well enjoy the ride before he got dizzy and fell off. “What time do we leave?”

  “All I need is for you to keep an eye on the shop for a few days, Scooter. The security alarm’s all set. You know the code if you have to get in for any reason.”

  Buddy Lee held the phone in one hand and flipped through a stack of invoices on his desk with the other while he waited for his friend’s answer.

  “But, how will I get ahold of you if I need to?” The gravelly voice vibrated in Buddy Lee’s ear. “What if somethin’ happens, like an emergency?”

  He sighed. He’d already explained as much as he was going to, but obviously Scooter didn’t think there was enough detail. Oh, he was trustworthy, no question about it, but sometimes his nosiness got to be a real pain in the butt. “Nothing’s going to happen, Scooter. I’ll check in with you every night, okay?”

  “But, where will you ....”

  “Scooterrrr ....” He warned, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  “Yeah, yeah, okay. I got it, man. If anyone asks, I don’t know nothin’, right?”

  The disappointment in Scooter’s voice came through loud and clear, but Buddy Lee wasn’t giving in. “Right. And hey, thanks. I owe you one.”