Her response was to nuzzle her head into the hollow of his shoulder while her fingers wandered up and down the back of his neck. Her summer-sweet fragrance shot straight to his brain. He stumbled, missed a step, and fought back the dangerous combination of light-headedness and tight jeans that was ganging up on him.
“Sweet mercy,” he breathed and danced her down the hallway toward the bedroom. He prayed the music never stopped.
Darn him
, Faith fumed silently, as she followed the suggestive rhythm of Buddy Lee’s low-down-and-dirty glide and slide. She’d always been a pushover for emotional Country love songs. One more mark in his favor.
When he had folded her in his arms and two-stepped her around the kitchen floor, her first reaction had been to stomp on his toes, but her body took on a mind of its own, moving instinctively to the sensuous beat of Mickey Gilley’s torchy ballad and the invitation of Buddy Lee’s hard body. She didn’t stand a chance against that kind of seduction, thank you very much, Mr. G. and Mr. W.
Not that she really objected. If she were honest—and she was trying to improve on that—she truly enjoyed it. There was something about the universal, unspoken language of slow-dancing that left no doubt as to what was being said. The silent conversing of bodies, the secret words expressed with a touch, a caress, or just a long, slow look—all these spoke loud and clear of heated desires and urgent needs. No
Webster’s Tenth
needed here. Faith’s own needs were clearly defined by now, and Buddy Lee’s were more than obvious.
Her mind still hung on to a few sensible thoughts, though.
One being that this seductive dancing was absurd when she was supposed to be finding out why he gave the car to Royce in the first place, and why Royce was dead. That was the important issue. Had Royce actually been murdered? Her blood chilled at that possibility. Buddy Lee was the most likely suspect in the crime, thanks to Elroy’s suspicious mind.
He did have a motive, she supposed. Without his valuable Mustang, there’d be no money to pay off his loan. And even if he proved his innocence in Royce’s death, he was bound to lose his shop and his livelihood. Wouldn’t that make Daddy overjoyed? A chance to point out another of his daughter’s endless mistakes. She wondered if he kept a list of the ones she’d made through the years.
That possibility should have worried her, but right now, her husband was seducing her with a two-step. How absurd was that? Was it just the hormonal change taking place in her body?
Her pregnancy? Or was it the feel of his
body language
rubbing against her as they danced toward the bedroom?
She floated with him as they tumbled onto the bed, the serious stuff just getting started.
In about an hour or so, I’ll ask him about the car again,
Faith promised herself. Honest. Right after we have this intimate body-language
conversation
.
A
fterwards, Faith lay quietly next to him, listening to his steady breathing. There was something beautiful about the afterglow of Buddy Lee’s lovemaking. Something special she’d never felt before. Did he feel as lucky as she did? They’d married because of her monumental mistake, but they’d found something she hadn’t expected. Could it be love? Once the baby arrived, would Buddy Lee be able to see beyond the child’s paternity? Was it fair to even ask that of him? Could they be a real family, or would he want to leave then? So many questions, so many doubts and fears for the future.
She eased up on one elbow and gazed down at her husband.
He looked so peaceful. She wondered how he could sleep with all the turmoil in their life right now. Her own mind buzzed with so many fractured thoughts, she had trouble separating them as they flew around in her brain. Too many unanswered questions: Royce’s death, the car, the loan due tomorrow. Tomorrow? Oh no! Tomorrow was already here!
Spurred by the sudden realization that time was running out, she slipped out of bed, grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the shower, praying the ancient water pipes wouldn’t rattle too loudly. An idea that had been brewing in her mind since yesterday began to take shape.
By the time she’d eaten a raisin bagel and finished her orange juice, the sun had already heated the morning air to a muggy eighty-two degrees. As she reflected on her effort to get Buddy Lee to talk about his plight, she dumped the earlier attempt at eggs into the trash along with two rock-hard pieces of cold toast, then rinsed her juice glass.
No,
their
plight, she amended. She was in this as deep, or deeper, than he was. If it wasn’t for her stupid recklessness, there’d be no plight to deal with.
On her way to the refrigerator with the carton of juice, she punched Play on the tape player and turned the volume down low. Mickey Gilley’s seductive voice sang to her this time about true love ways. Her heart stumbled, remembering. Leave it to Buddy Lee to use honky-tonk blues music and sweet-talking lyrics to tell her what he couldn’t say out loud.
She hadn’t known he was such a smooth dancer. No wonder the girls in school had always tried to convince him to show up at the school dances. He never asked them out, though. She should have wondered about that at the time, but she’d been too busy planning her next rebellion against her daddy to pay attention.
Too busy looking for love in all the wrong places.
Back then, Buddy Lee had been a pal as well as her protector. And she’d been a foolish, mixed-up young girl who didn’t know a good thing when it stood right in front of her.
She’d been so blind. How lucky she’d finally gotten a chance to discover the important things in life. To discover the loving side of Buddy Lee Walker. Even if she didn’t deserve it.
She peeked in the bedroom. Thank goodness, she could slip away before he woke up. She didn’t want him trying to protect her from her daddy’s wrath that would surely come down on her head. This was something she had to do on her own. For Buddy Lee, for herself, and for the future she hoped they would share.
She dashed off a quick note saying she was going to check on her mama. She hoped he believed her.
If she hurried, she could catch her daddy before he left for the bank. If she was lucky, her mama would still be in bed.
She didn’t think she could deal with more than one problem at a time.
B
uddy Lee came awake with a startled jerk, momentarily forgetting where he was and wondering if he’d already been tried and found guilty. There’d been a trial and a jury in his dreams, one that convicted him—not for committing a crime—but for being
Boyd’s boy.
Cold sweat slicked his bare skin. He reached for Faith, for reassurance that he was really home and not behind bars. Panic whopped him when nothing but empty space met his seeking hand.
He rolled over, ready to believe the worst. Then a replay of the early morning session at the police station kicked in, and he remembered how Faith had jumped to his defense.
How about the way she went after ol’ Elroy? Man, she was all over that cousin of hers like ugly on an ape, shaking her fist at him and giving him what for. She’d been a regular spitfire, proclaiming her husband’s innocence loud and clear to anyone within shouting distance. And he
wa
s innocent,
dammit
.
He wouldn’t deny that he despised Royce Webb. The world would be better off without scum like his wife’s ex-fiancé. And yeah, he’d tried to pound him to a pulp when he’d threatened Faith’s safety. If the jerk hadn’t run off, leaving him to make tracks to get Faith to a doctor, no telling how much damage he’d have done to him. But murder? No way. One Walker behind bars was more than enough.
Fresh from a quick shower, he made his way to the kitchen in search of his wife and, hopefully, a good-morning kiss. All he found was coffee and another damned note on the counter.
Aw, come on, Faith.
Was this some kind of weird game of hers, leaving a note then disappearing while he was asleep? If she intended to torment him, she was succeeding big time.
He snatched up the piece of paper, read the few words and tossed it on the table. At least this time she’d told him where she was going. He couldn’t very well blame her for wanting to see her mama, so he tried to shove aside his disappointment at not having her, all sleepy-eyed and warm, to wake up with.
He’d been looking forward to spending some quality time with her this morning before he went to work. Precious time he felt they needed in order to explore their feelings, define their hopes and dreams, and decide whether or not their future together even had a snowball’s chance.
Oh, he knew he could probably find a job at halfway decent wages. He was a damned good mechanic, and as long as trucks and cars kept rolling off the assembly lines, there’d be a need for someone to repair them.
But his hope of achieving his dream—that burning need to be more than just
Boyd’s boy
—had disappeared when he gave up his treasured Mustang. Without it, there was nothing left. The years of sacrifice and hard work meant zip now. He had a wife to support. And a baby on the way that wasn’t his. Just thinking about
that
hatched a whole slew of doubts about his sanity.
Even though he’d promised to be the daddy, he wondered if he could honestly keep a pledge like that. One that challenged him to be the kind of man worthy of being called “Daddy.” Or would he always look at the child and see Royce? Was he strong enough to endure the torment of living with Faith, knowing another man had given her a child?
And there was always the possibility that she intended to end their marriage after the baby was born. They’d never seriously discussed any plans beyond the birth. Shoot, he’d just taken it for granted that he’d be around, a part of their future. Maybe that had been wishful thinking on his part.
He sat drinking his coffee and wallowing in self-pity until the phone rang.
“Yeah?” he snapped into the mouthpiece.
“Walker, you need to get over to the sheriff’s office right away,” Elroy Pike told him.
“Wanna explain why?” His mood was just resentful enough to be nasty, even if it did add another alligator to the swamp. Hell, one more wouldn’t make any difference now.
“Let’s just say it’s in your best interest.”
Jeez.
He had a sudden urge to tell Elroy where he could shove his superior attitude. He snapped his mouth shut instead because, after all, the sheriff was the law and Buddy Lee was tiptoeing mighty close to the lock-up door.
So he swallowed his angry retort. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes, Elroy.” He glanced at the kitchen clock. “And tell your boys to lay off their radar when they see my truck.”
He plunked the receiver down before Newcomb County’s finest had a chance to spout a response. Draining his coffee cup in one gulp, he grabbed an apple from the fridge and headed out the door.
Helluva
way to start the day.
“H
ello, Daddy.” Faith stood in the doorway to the familiar dining room of her parents’ home. Surprised to find the front door unlocked, she’d quietly let herself in without knocking. Avoiding giving her daddy advance notice of her arrival was definitely in her favor.
Lionel Morgan glanced away from reading the morning business news, and a glower darkened his face the instant he recognized his caller.
“You have no reason to be here. See yourself out.” He snapped the newspaper and returned his full attention to it.
Faith studied her father’s profile, visible from where she stood. He seemed to have grown older since she’d last seen him just a few days before. His face was lined and slightly puffy, with a weariness she’d never noticed clouding his eyes.
But his tongue had lost none of its razor-like sharpness.
He’d always been able to cut her down with a look or a single word, constantly reminding her that she was a Morgan with a reputation in the community to uphold.
Like she could ever forget.
She quickly erected her own personal invisible shield against the hurtful tirade she knew would come, and strode into the room. “I have
every
reason to be here.”
Lionel laid the paper down on the table, and pushing his chair back, started to rise.
Faith caught him by the arm. “No, Daddy, don’t try to ignore me this time. Sit down. There’s something important I want you to hear, so I’ll talk and you’ll listen.”
Obviously stunned by her tenacity, Lionel sat back down.
Then his gray eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned. Once again he was the inflexible parent of her youth.
Faith quickly took a seat opposite him at the table, and remembering what was at stake, drew courage from somewhere deep inside and plunged into her speech before she lost her nerve.
“I found out about your underhanded trick to call in Buddy Lee’s note—
”
Her father started to protest, but she charged on. “Did you stop to think about everyone your spitefulness might hurt? Of course not. As usual, it’s always about the money.” She leaned toward him. “Well, you know what? Money is the only company you’re going to have in your old age, because I won’t be here and neither will your first grandchild.”