Tempting in Texas Page 16

  Hayes’s breath gusted like hers, and he looked her straight in the eyes. “I want to have sex with you right now.”

  Cait couldn’t answer. She could blame that on the shock and not enough air to form a verbal response. But that didn’t stop Marty from saying something.

  Marty cleared his throat, causing Hayes’s gaze to fly across the room and land on her father. “I’m guessing the words you’re looking for right now are along the lines of holy shit,” Marty drawled.

  * * *

  YEAH, THOSE WERE definitely the words Hayes had been thinking. He’d come to Cait’s house with just one thing on his mind.

  Sex.

  He sure as hell hadn’t expected for Marty to be there. And for Marty to hear the sex demand that’d been for Cait’s ears only.

  “Mr. Jameson,” Hayes said, stepping inside.

  He glanced at Marty, then at Cait before Hayes studied their body language. He didn’t know what had gone on here, what’d been said, but he was pretty sure Cait had been crying, and there was some bone-deep sadness in her expression. He didn’t have to guess why, either. Her SOB father was responsible. Hayes was deciding if he needed to kick Marty’s ass when Cait took hold of his hand.

  “Uh, Hayes and I need to talk,” Cait insisted, barely sparing her father a glance.

  She didn’t give Marty a chance to respond. She led Hayes out of the living room and to the back of the house and into a small laundry room. A very messy one. There were two hampers piled high on the floor and a heap of what appeared to be clean unfolded towels on the dryer. Bras and panties of all colors dangled from a clothesline that had been strung from wall to wall. Hayes had to bat aside a skimpy white lace bra so they could get far enough into the room for Cait to shut the door.

  “I’m sorry I blurted out that sex thing,” Hayes told her right off, and then he added the most important thing. “Are you all right?”

  Cait drew in a long breath through her mouth and pushed her hair from her face before exhaling. “It’s just draining to deal with Marty.”

  Hayes didn’t think draining was the right word for it. Pain in the ass was a better way to put it, but he was pretty sure this encounter had gone well beyond that. And that’s why Hayes pulled her into his arms. He doubted it would help any of the old baggage and eternally raw wounds she had because of Marty, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  Cait didn’t exactly slide into the hug. She sort of melted against him. Not in a heated, sexual kind of way. No, this felt like serious fatigue, and the weary sigh that left her mouth confirmed it.

  “You worked a twelve-hour shift,” he said.

  She made a sound of agreement but didn’t look up. Cait kept her head on his shoulder. “How’d you know that?”

  “I heard Em tell Tony when they were trying to work out who would pick up Austin’s twins from school.”

  Another sound of agreement. “McCall had to reschedule some appointments because I got tied up with the Crocketts.”

  He knew about that, too. The Crocketts were the couple responsible for Cait’s thermometer injury/stitches, and if Em had gotten it right, Cait had needed to go with them before a judge today so they could be sentenced. If Hayes had listened longer to Em’s conversation, he likely would have heard the results of that sentencing, along with parts he hadn’t wanted to hear about varicose vein surgery that a woman named Martha Ellis was having.

  Cait and he stood there another few moments before she finally eased away and looked up at him. “Let me finish dealing with Marty, and then we can talk about the romantic, cleverly worded offer you made when you first got here.”

  He winced. His “I want to have sex with you right now” had definitely been lacking in the romantic/clever wording department. But by the time he’d made it to her place, Hayes had already jumped on the crazy train. His body had been burning for her, and he hadn’t been able to think of anything else but taking her then and there. He was still thinking about that, but it could wait. Cait was right—she did need to deal with Marty first.

  So did he.

  It was time he had a “come to Jesus” meeting with her father. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t really any of his business. He might be able to get through to the man and convince him to at least try to make an effort with his offspring and the next generation of Jamesons. While he was at it, Hayes could emphasize that the asshole better not put tears in Cait’s eyes again.

  Cait took another of those deep breaths, and she pulled back her shoulders, which she immediately had to readjust again because she had to duck and weave her way through the dangling underwear. Hayes got smacked in the face by a black lacy bra that probably would have been a big-time distraction for him had he not wanted to be focused when they faced her father. With Hayes right behind her, they went back into the living room.

  Only to find it empty.

  Muttering some profanity, Cait went to the side window and threw back the curtain. “He left,” she snarled.

  Hayes glanced out and saw that the horse that’d been in the corral was no longer there. Well, what a shithead. Not the horse but rather the man who’d used it to make his getaway.

  Still muttering those curse words, Cait looked around until her attention landed on the piece of paper on the coffee table. As if dreading what she would see there, she slowly made her way to pick it up.

  “‘I need some thinking time,’” Cait read aloud. “‘Will be in touch soon. Love, Dad.’”

  Hayes felt the punch of anger and knew it had to be a tiny speck compared to what Cait was feeling. “You want me to go after him?” Hayes asked.

  “No,” she answered without hesitation. Her sigh was long and weary. “It wouldn’t do any good. Thinking time is his way of saying he’s tucking tail and running again. I really thought I’d gotten through to him about Adam,” she added in a mumble. “I mean, he only nodded, but I thought maybe...” She waved off the rest of whatever she’d been about to say.

  There was so much pain in that one comment that it had Hayes stepping in front of her. He took the letter and tossed it back on the coffee table. “What happened?” Hayes asked. “What’d Marty do to make you cry?”

  She shook her head, but even as she was doing that, he saw the tears start to shimmer again. His first reaction was a slam of anger, all of it directed at Marty, but Hayes felt her pain, too. He knew plenty about the past coming back to bite you in the ass. There wasn’t much he could do about that. Hell, about Marty, either. But he could try to soothe away all the frayed edges he was seeing on Cait’s face.

  “You asked Marty to step up and give Adam some time and attention,” Hayes guessed. “Marty, being Marty, dodged and deflected.”

  “Yes,” she muttered. Then she paused. “But he nodded. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but it seemed to be, well, a good sign. I thought he was at least toying with the wacky notion of doing the right thing.”

  A nod definitely wasn’t something to write home to mama about, but if it’d given Cait some hope, even temporary hope, then perhaps it had been somewhat of a big deal.

  “You thought you’d gotten through to Marty,” he paraphrased. “And maybe you did. He could be thinking about the way to handle this right now.”

  Of course, it was just as possible that Marty was making another contribution to his “genetic” legacy, but he didn’t want that reminder to drag Cait down any more than she already was. Then again, Hayes wasn’t sure it was possible for her mood to get any lower, and talking about her father didn’t appear to be making anything better.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  Obviously, he’d surprised her, because her gaze whipped up to his. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You came over for sex,” she reminded him.

  “Sex can wait.” And he hoped he didn’t lose his membership in the man club for saying that. “Why don’t y
ou have a long soak in the tub, maybe a glass of wine, and I’ll fix you something for dinner?”

  She stared at him. “You’re, uh, going to take care of me?”

  He wished that she hadn’t asked that in the same tone as Slackers is now going to be lovable? He could do stuff to take care of her, and to prove it, he took her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. No tub in there, only a shower, so he went in search of the master bedroom. No tub there, either.

  “I’m a shower person,” she muttered.

  Well then, he’d have to go with other stuff to help her through this. “Okay, how about that glass of wine or a beer?”

  She sighed, pushed her hair from her face and glanced at the bed. Not in a sexual “why don’t you join me there” kind of way. Nope. It was the look of a woman who was exhausted. So Hayes led her there, had her sit, and he stooped down to take off her shoes.

  “Thanks. But I just need a nap. I can eat in an hour or two.”

  “I can hang around and cook once you’re awake.” Or even head to the diner and bring her back something.

  “You’re taking care of me,” she added, mumbling now, and this time it didn’t sound like something out of the implausible realm. “Thanks. Who knew you had layers like this.”

  “Layers?” he questioned.

  She gave him a lazy smile. “Hot badass actor with a kind heart.”

  Hayes thought the only true thing in that was the actor part. It certainly didn’t mean he had a kind heart just because he hated seeing her like this. It was as if the long workday and the encounter with Marty had sapped every drop of her energy.

  “You want me to find you a nightgown or some pj’s?” he asked.

  Cait shook her head and fought to keep her eyes open. “I always sleep in my underwear.”

  That was of definite interest to him, and he got some very vivid images of Cait on that bed wearing that black lace stuff he’d seen in the laundry room. “Some of your underwear is...interesting. Don’t take this the wrong way, but a couple of bras were borderline eye porn.”

  “Layers,” she muttered, her voice a little groggy. She curled up on her side. “I’ve got them, too.”

  Yes, she did. The devoted sister who would do anything for her family. The smart-mouthed cop who was soft enough beneath to be hurt by her father, a man she should have long steeled herself against.

  Hayes took the side of the quilt and draped it over her.

  “Layers,” she repeated, her eyelids fluttering down. He brushed a kiss on her cheek and turned to leave, but her mutterings stopped him in his tracks. “If I’m not careful, I could fall in love with you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CAIT WOKE WITH the lovely dream still floating around in her head. A dream of Hayes, his mouth gliding over her body. Kissing her in all the right places. Making her feel as if she could linger in that slippery slide of pleasure for hours before he finished her off with an equally lovely orgasm.

  She opened her eyes, glanced around, disappointed that he wasn’t there with those right-place kisses. Too bad. She was still in that slide and could have used him to finish her off—

  If I’m not careful, I could fall in love with you.

  Those were her words. Her voice. Had that been part of the dream?

  She shook her head to clear it. And then Cait cursed a blue streak. Because, no, it hadn’t been in the dream. She’d actually said that to him before she’d drifted off from exhaustion. Well, she wasn’t exhausted now. She was wide-awake and thoroughly pissed off at herself for baring her heart to him like that.

  Hayes wasn’t the sort to take that confession and use it to get her in the sack, but it was embarrassing and had made her sound like a starstruck fan. He already had so many of those, and Cait didn’t want to be on that particular bandwagon.

  Still muttering some profanity, all aimed at herself, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was a little past seven o’clock, and the red dot next to the time let her know that she hadn’t napped the night away. Good, because she was starving. Once she ate, she’d then deal with Hayes, lying to him that what she’d said had been the mutterings of a woman spent by fatigue.

  Well, she’d deal with him if he was still here, that is.

  He wasn’t in the bedroom, but she did hear voices. Soft murmurs that made her wonder if he was watching TV. Something also smelled amazing. Roasted chicken, maybe? So Hayes had perhaps kept his promise to fix her dinner after all.

  She freshened up in the bathroom, and, yes, that included fiddling with her makeup. It was vain, of course, but if she was going to eat crow—and the chicken—then she wanted to look her best. Too bad her best was nowhere in the range of what Hayes was accustomed to.

  Cait stared at herself in the mirror, her attention lingering on every flaw, of which there were legions. No one would ever call her beautiful.

  Tucking that depressing thought aside, she went into the living room to face the music, aka Hayes. But he wasn’t there. The TV wasn’t on, either, and she realized the voices she’d heard were coming from the front porch. She thought maybe he was talking to someone on speaker on the phone, but she recognized one of the voices as Adam’s.

  That sent Cait hurrying out the door, and she practically tripped over someone when she raced onto the porch. Not Adam or Hayes but Hadley. All conversation stopped, all eyes went to her.

  Hayes was on the top porch step, and Adam was seated just below him. Hadley was sitting by the door with her back against the wall in an almost identical position as Marty when he’d made his impromptu visit a couple of hours earlier.

  It wasn’t fully dark yet, but the sun was low—not enough, though, to cool things down much. It was still too hot to be shooting the breeze on the porch. Alarmed, she hurried out to them.

  “Uh, what’s going on?” Cait asked.

  No one jumped to answer, so Cait settled her gaze on Hayes. “Hadley drove Adam here,” Hayes explained. “He wanted to see you.”

  Cait shifted her attention to her nephew and wished for better lighting so she could tell if he’d been crying. Everything about his body language—the lowered head, slumped shoulders, downturned mouth—indicated he was upset. And she didn’t have to guess why.

  “What’d Marty do now?” Cait asked on a huff.

  Again, there was more silence, and it was Hadley who finally spoke up. “Marty took off without saying anything. He left Adam a note,” Hadley added, and she didn’t bother to hide her disgust about that.

  Cait didn’t hide hers, either. “Let me guess. The note said he needed some thinking time.”

  Adam gave the slightest of nods and swatted at a mosquito that was zinging around them while it made that high-pitched sound.

  “Bingo,” Hadley verified. “Lenore tried to call Marty, but of course, he didn’t answer. I was there doing some wedding stuff and heard what was going on. So I volunteered to drive Adam around to look for Marty, thinking that maybe he’d be at the diner or somewhere in town. There was no sign of him.”

  “See my shocked face,” Cait grumbled, her tone as dry as month-old toast.

  But the dynamics of this were somewhat interesting. Hadley wasn’t a Jameson—not yet, anyway—and yet she’d taken on one of the recurring family duties of mopping up after one of Marty’s messes. Not that Adam was a mess. He wasn’t. No, the mess king in this family picture was none other than Marty.

  “I just wanted to ask you if my grandfather said anything about me,” Adam muttered.

  Cait picked through the conversation she’d had with her dad and couldn’t come up with anything that was going to make Adam feel any better. Still, she had to give him something. Preferably something that wouldn’t give him false hope that he’d ever be more than a passing thought to his asshole of a grandfather.

  “Marty said he’d made arrangements to take care of you financially,”
Cait settled for saying.

  That got the response she’d expected. Adam shrugged. There weren’t any indications that Adam wasn’t already being taken care of financially, and since Marty was rich, that wasn’t exactly a grand gesture on his part. He certainly hadn’t volunteered his time. Then again, he never had. Money, running and dodging conflict were his go-to responses.

  “He’s mad at me, isn’t he?” Adam asked her. “That’s why he left without seeing me.”

  On a heavy sigh, Cait went closer and stooped down so she’d be at his eye level. Unlike her father, she had no trouble looking. “If Marty’s mad at anyone, it’s me, not you. He and I had a few choice words before he sneaked out of here.”

  Sneaked was the right word for it. Cait wouldn’t cut her father any slack on that, but she would try to soothe Adam.

  “When Marty gets cornered, he leaves,” Cait went on. “He was doing that before you were born. Heck, before I was born.” She’d heard plenty of stories about her father’s long road trips. Apparently, though, he’d come home often enough to knock up her mother with four kids.

  “I tried to call him, too,” Adam went on. “My grandfather, I mean. I used the number Miss Lenore had, but the call went straight to voice mail. I left him a message and told him not to be mad at me, that it wasn’t like he actually owed me anything ’cause I’m only his grandson.”

  Oh, that did a number on Cait’s heart. Because there shouldn’t be an only when it came to being a grandson. And this boy shouldn’t be crushed because Marty couldn’t see that.

  “There’s nothing only about you,” she tried to assure him. “You’re going through a tough time, and from what I see, you’re handling it well.”

  He stared at her as if she’d just dished out a heaping serving of BS.

  “Really,” Cait insisted. “Trust me on that. You’re not yelling or crying. I did both,” she confessed. “I probably called him a name or two. I tend to do that when he makes me mad. Which is pretty much every time I set eyes on him.”

  She glanced at Hayes. Saw the kindred-spirit sympathy. Welcomed it. Of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have to talk about the love stuff she’d said. But for now, she wasn’t finished with Adam.