A Marriage Made in Texas (The Brothers Kincaid) (4 page)

He smiled, amused as always by that smart mouth of hers. “Not physically. Emotionally. I didn’t want to hurt you emotionally.”

“Oh, please.” She tossed her hair back in a gesture of irritation. “That is such a load of cow manure.”

Frustrated, he jammed his hands through his hair. “It would have been a one-night stand.” And she’d been vulnerable, still hurting from her divorce. The
last thing he’d wanted was to add to those problems. Once they’d arrived on her doorstep he’d managed to think past the haze of lust and realize maybe taking her to bed wouldn’t be the best thing for either of them.

One glance at her narrowed eyes and grim expression decided him. No way he’d tell her all this. She’d rip his face off.

“I’m not a moron, Jay. I knew you were going back to California the next day. So what?”

“I didn’t want you to regret it. I thought the best thing would be to avoid it. Obviously, I hurt you. I’m sorry for that.”

Her chin lifted. “As you can see, I lived through it. Hell, I lived through my divorce, don’t think I can’t handle something as insignificant as a failed—” she hesitated, then shrugged. “Whatever it was.”

Insignificant? That pricked his ego. Still, if it had been so insignificant, she wouldn’t be so pissed. But he wasn’t going to point that out. Nope, no way. Instead, he said, “You haven’t ever brought this up before.”

“You hadn’t made a move on me since then, either,” she reminded him. “Besides, I didn’t see you for a long time, and by then you were tied up with Carla. What would have been the point?”

“How long are you planning to stay mad at me?” Her lips twitched and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Regally, she inclined her head. “I haven’t decided. Possibly forever.”

“Then why are you biting your lip to keep from smil
ing?” He wanted, badly, to nibble on those lush, enticing lips himself. But even though he’d handled the situation so poorly five years before, he wasn’t a total fool. Giving her his most charming smile, he held out a hand. “Friends?”

She took it and smiled. “Friends,” she echoed.

Jay had an idea that smile hid a plan. He just wasn’t sure what that plan was. But he’d never backed off from a challenge.

A
FTER WORKING
for two weeks—actually, after one—Jay knew he’d made the right decision in moving to Aransas City. He liked the clinic setup. His office, while conservative, suited him, holding a handsome mahogany desk, a comfortable deep blue leather desk chair and a couple of burgundy leather side chairs for his patients.

One of the things he especially appreciated was the slower pace of practicing in a small town. Most emergencies went directly to the Corpus Christi Emergency Room. No more weekend calls, no more trauma. And he was able to spend time with his patients, to get to know them instead of moving them in and out as fast as humanly possible.

He and his partner, Tim Kramer, worked together well. Tim had moved his practice from Corpus Christi, where many of his patients came from the outlying communities. He’d been wanting to open a clinic in Aransas City for some time, believing that given a choice, the locals would prefer a doctor nearby, rather than having to go to Corpus for all their medical needs. If the brisk business they’d been doing
since opening was any indication, Tim had been absolutely right.

The first week Jay had been in town, Tim invited him over for a cookout to meet his family. Following the tradition found in small towns everywhere, Tim’s wife immediately tried to set him up with a friend. Never one for blind dates, he’d wiggled out of it without offending her, but it gave him a taste of things to come.

It seemed as if everyone in Aransas City had a great idea of who to fix him up with. Too bad the one woman he wouldn’t mind seeing hadn’t shown any inclination to date him. While their talk had cleared the air, and Gail had been friendly enough when they’d closed on his house, she hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to get together. And for reasons Jay didn’t fully understand, he couldn’t seem to drum up much interest in other women.

Closing the medical journal he’d been leafing through, he glanced out his window and smiled. The beige brick clinic surrounded a central courtyard with a small gazebo and a couple of benches. White clouds of seagulls circled overhead and hopped on the ground, hoping for a handout. He got up, deciding to break for an early lunch, then heard a commotion in the hallway. Just as he reached his office door, it burst open and his receptionist tumbled in.

“Dr. Kincaid!” Normally cool and collected, she wheezed his name breathlessly. “I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t even let me buzz you.”

“What is it, Bridget? Is it an emergency?”

Bridget shook her head and stepped aside. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s only me, darling,” a musical, feminine voice said as a woman stepped into view. “Surely you’re not going to have me barred from your office.”

He stared at her, hoping she was a bad dream and knowing she wasn’t. “Carla? What are you doing here?”

“Can we do this…alone?” She turned to Bridget with a conciliatory smile. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you? I need to talk to my fiancé in private.”

His jaw tightened at the comment. Damn Carla for following him here. He might as well deal with her now, though, because his ex-girlfriend was as tenacious as a pit bull. A good quality in a lawyer, but a pain in the ass otherwise.

“It’s all right, Bridget. You can go now. And for the record—” he glanced at Carla, then back to his receptionist “—Miss Burkett isn’t my fiancée.”

He folded his arms and leaned back against his desk. “All right, Carla. Why are you here?”

A moment before she’d been frowning, but the smile she now turned on him was all sweetness and light. “Jay, I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t stay away any longer.” She crossed the few steps between them, put her arms around him and laid a kiss on him that once upon a time would have had them horizontal in a matter of seconds. With difficulty, he extracted himself from her clutches and pushed her away from him.

Her eyes widened. He felt like a jerk until he re
membered that Carla was very good at making a person believe what she wanted him to.

Her hands clutched his shirt. “I thought—I hoped you’d had enough time to realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made. You can’t tell me it’s truly over. Not after what we meant to each other. Why don’t you come home, Jay?” She glanced around his office, obviously puzzled. “This place isn’t for you. You can’t be happy here. I’ve driven through the town and there’s hardly a grocery store, much less any kind of entertainment. Come back to L.A. with me, Jay.”

He shook his head. “You know I’m not going to do that.”

Her composure breaking for the first time, her lips, full, lush and painted a deep red, tightened into a pout. “Are you trying to hurt me? Because you’re succeeding.”

Again, he felt a flash of guilt. “I never wanted to hurt you. But we’ve been through this often enough. I’m sorry, Carla, we’re not getting back together.”

He could still admire her beauty. It would be hard not to. Her blond hair fell in a riot of waves to her shoulders. Her eyes were a sharp, brilliant green, and she had one of the most luscious bodies he’d ever seen. Carla was bright, beautiful, and everything he’d once thought he wanted in a woman. Until he finally figured out that it didn’t matter. He didn’t love Carla, and he never would.

She placed a shaky hand on his arm and gave him a tremulous smile. “Haven’t you missed me, Jay? Even a little?”

He didn’t answer her question. Truthfully, he hadn’t missed her at all. “It’s been over between us for months. I don’t want to say things we’ll both regret. Don’t do this. There’s no point to it. You need to let it go.”

Her eyes filled with tears, which she allowed to spill and track slowly down her cheeks. His more cynical side whispered that Carla knew she cried beautifully and didn’t mind using the trick to ruthless advantage.

“I can’t bear to see you throwing your life away. You don’t belong here, Jay, any more than I do.”

Frustration had him speaking more sharply than he’d intended. “I’m staying. And you’d better go. It’s over, Carla. Accept it.”

Her hand fisted over her heart. She looked stricken, every bit the tragic beauty. But Jay didn’t quite buy it. He knew he’d hurt her, but he suspected her determination arose from the fact that he’d been the one to call it quits, rather than from any deep and abiding love she held for him.

One last, melting look, one last, husky plea. “Call me. I’ll be waiting.”

“Don’t,” was all he said.

He shoved his hands through his hair and sighed in relief.
Thank God that’s over.

G
LAD TO HAVE
taken care of her insurance physical, Gail left Dr. Kramer’s office. She glanced down the hall and saw a woman step out of Jay’s office, her posture defeated, despairing. Yet the moment the door
closed, she straightened and took on a completely different attitude. Gail pegged her as furious.

“Carla? Is that you?” She walked toward her and held out a hand. “It’s Gail Summers. We met last summer at my sister’s house.”

The woman looked at her hand as if she carried the plague.

Her gaze, frigid with disdain, swept over Gail from top to bottom. “Of course. You would be here, wouldn’t you? I remember you. Don’t think he’ll fall for you, you pathetic little loser. You’re nothing more than a hair follicle in this armpit of humanity.” And with that, she stormed out in her three-hundred-dollar sky-high heels.

“Well, that’ll tell me,” Gail murmured as the door opened.

“Gail, what are you doing here? You’re not ill, are you?” Jay asked.

Gail shook her head. “I had to have an insurance physical with Dr. Kramer. Wasn’t that your ex-girlfriend?”

He glanced down the hall and grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Or maybe not so ex?”

“What do you mean?”

With a wry smile, Gail tapped the corner of her mouth. “Lipstick. I guess she hasn’t heard of the non-smudge variety.”

He frowned and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “Forgot she kissed me.” He scrubbed at the telltale stain, then stuffed the handkerchief back. “Definitely still ex.”

“That would explain it, then.” When he raised an eyebrow, she continued. “Why she called me a hair follicle in this armpit of humanity. I take it you told her no go.”

“You take it right. Sorry. I guess she’s angrier than I’d realized. She tends to lash out at whoever’s handy when she’s in a mood.”

“Lucky me.”

He smiled at her. “Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you lunch?”

He really was charming. And she’d spent the last two weeks since his house closing deliberately avoiding him. She figured she was the only single woman in town who hadn’t yet pounced on him. “All right. What did you have in mind?”

“Your brother’s place. I’m addicted to the fried shrimp plate.”

T
HE
S
CARLET
P
ARROT
, Cameron Randolph’s waterfront bar and grill, did a brisk lunchtime business. Jay usually ate there at least once a week, sometimes more. He liked the atmosphere, unpretentious and casually coastal. Fish—sailfish, marlin, redfish and tarpon—decorated the walls and huge fans hung from the ceiling, spinning lazily and helping clear out the inevitable odors of seafood, ocean and cigarette smoke. The bare planked floor and dark wood tables hadn’t changed in the last five years, and Jay didn’t imagine they would in the next five either. Not unless Cam Randolph married and his wife decided to re
decorate. However, in the five years Jay had known Cam, he’d always seemed determinedly single.

Jay and Gail stopped by the bar to greet Cam on the way to their table. Of the four Randolph siblings, Cat and Gabe were dark, Cam and Gail fair. Cam resembled Gail the most. He was also, Jay thought, the most protective of her, but maybe that came from being the oldest in a family of four.

Content to let the Randolphs carry the conversation, Jay watched Gail. She must have come from work, he thought, because she wore another one of those suits she favored, this one a bright cherry red that hugged her slim hips. He wondered if her matching lipstick were the non-smudge variety. He wanted a chance to find out.

“I know what you want, Kincaid,” Cam said.

“You do?” He sincerely hoped not. Because if Cam knew what Jay had been thinking about his sister, he’d slug him for sure.

“Sure, what you always get. The shrimp plate. But Gail is always changing her mind. What are you having, little sister?”

“We’re going to take that table over there,” she said, pointing to a corner. “Tell Sally to bring me a cheeseburger and French fries. And don’t skimp on the fries this time.”

He laughed and threw his towel over his shoulder. “Just trying to make sure you keep your girlish figure.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m up for the job without your help,” she said.

Not girlish, Jay thought, following her. Those curves were all woman.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Gail asked, after they were seated and the waitress brought their drinks.

He blinked, still thinking about her figure. Then he realized what she referred to. “About Carla?” he asked, a little surprised. “No, why would I?”

“I forgot, you’re a guy.” She picked up her iced tea and sipped, her expression innocent. “Why would you want to talk about messy things like emotions?”

He leaned forward and caught her gaze. “Why would I want to talk about another woman when I’m a hell of a lot more interested in you?”

Her breathing hitched, then she smiled. “Oh, that was smooth. Very nice.”

“But true. Carla and I are over. But you and I—” he picked up her hand and smiled at her “—have all sorts of possibilities.”

“Do we?” she asked skeptically.

His fingers skimmed her pulse, which pounded appealingly.

The waitress interrupted just then, setting their food down. The subject changed naturally when she left, but Jay was well satisfied with the conversation. Gail wanted to play it cool, but he sensed the spark between them, and would’ve bet his last dollar she did too.

They ate quietly for a moment. “I saw Miranda yesterday,” Gail said. “I swear, I can’t believe how much that baby has grown in just a few weeks.”

“Yeah, she’s a charmer, isn’t she?” He took a bite of shrimp and smiled, thinking about his brother’s family. “I still can’t get used to calling her Miranda,” he said, after making some progress on his meal.

Gail touched his hand. “Does it bother you? That they named her after your sister?”

“No, and I think it means a lot to Mark. He was much closer to Miranda than either Brian or I were. We were only six and seven when she ran away. It’s just,” he hesitated, unsure how to put his feelings into words. “I never stopped hoping we’d find her. Naming the baby Miranda makes it seem more certain that she’s gone for good.”

“A lot of people name children after family members.”

“I know. I didn’t say it was rational.”

“Are you afraid she’s…” She broke off, apparently unwilling to complete the sentence.

“Dead?” he asked, his heart heavy. “Yeah. Mark tried to find her for years. Private investigators. So did our mother. I suppose it’s possible she’s alive, but she was only fifteen when she left home. The statistics on teenage runaways are pretty grim.”

“I know.” She put her hand over his and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Jay.”

“Me too,” he said simply, and turned his hand over to clasp hers. Their gazes met, held. Her eyes were blue, a deep blue like the ocean churning outside, and fringed with thick, dark lashes. The kind of eyes a man could drown in, and count himself lucky. In them he saw compassion, and something more, a
sensual awareness that grew the longer he held her hand.

Her tongue touched her lips, exactly where he wanted to touch them himself. She cleared her throat and tried to pull her hand free, but he held on a few seconds longer before he released it.

“Are you going to eat those fries?” Gail asked after a moment.

“No, you go ahead.” He watched her for a moment as she tucked into his fries. “Do you always eat like that?”

“Mostly.” She gave him a cheeky grin.

Obviously, she didn’t have a problem with her weight. She was slim, yet curved in all the right places. Subtle curves, but they were definitely there.