Protecting Tricia (6 page)

* * * *

Late Friday afternoon, Clint stood on the back deck,
brushing a generous portion of barbeque sauce on the pieces of chicken that
were stacked on the grill. He lay the brush down and stepped back. The heat
from the grill combined with the warmth of the day made the temperature almost
unbearable. He lifted his hat and swiped the back of his hand across his
forehead.

When the back door opened, Clint looked over to see Neil
walking outside carrying two beers. Clint smiled gratefully as he replaced his
hat on his head and accepted the bottle Neil held out to him.

“Thanks.” He twisted the cap off and took a long swallow of
the cold liquid.

“I brought in Tricia’s bags.” Neil dug in his pocket, pulled
out a set of keys, and tossed them in Clint’s direction. “She’s not going to be
happy about you having those.”

Clint shoved the keys in the pocket of his jeans. “She’ll
get over it.”

Neil leaned against the railing of the deck. “So, how are
things going?”

Clint shrugged. “She isn’t exactly thrilled about the
situation.” Which was a huge understatement. “But she seems to have accepted
it.”

“To be honest with you, I was a little worried. When you
left the house she looked mad enough to scratch your eyes out.” He gestured
toward Clint with the bottle. “I’m glad to see you still have them.”

“Oh, she wanted to scratch them out. She still hates me.”
The admission squeezed his heart, but he shook off the feeling.

Clint turned the pieces of chicken and brushed on some more
barbeque sauce. The smell of the roasting meat and the hickory flavored sauce
filled the air, and his stomach rumbled in response.

“What did you expect, Clint? Did you think she was going to
welcome you with open arms?”

“No. But it’s been eight years.
Eight years
. That’s a
long time. I thought her anger might have diminished a little by now.”

“Please,” Neil replied with a laugh. “Women have long
memories. Twenty years from now she’ll still be pissed at you, and I hate to
say it, buddy, but can you really blame her?”

“I guess not,” Clint muttered. While the chicken sizzled on
the grill, he dropped down into a chair.

“And besides, what do you care if she hates you? That
doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

Clint shrugged and took a swallow of beer.

“I mean, in all the years the two of you have been apart,
you never once asked about her. You knew she kept in touch with Jenny, but you
never even asked Jenny how she was doing.”

But he hadn’t had to ask. All he had to do was wait. Sooner
or later Jenny always brought up the subject of Tricia. And by waiting for her
to volunteer the information rather than asking for it, he saved himself from
looking like a lovesick fool.

“So, the fact that she hates you really isn’t a problem,”
Neil continued.

“Right.” Except it was. He hated knowing she thought he was
slime. Hated the fact she had to force herself simply to tolerate him.

“She’s safe, and once Matt leaves, she leaves. As long as
she’s not scratching your eyes out in the meantime, everything’s fine.”

Clint nodded. “Any news about Matt?” he asked.

“Heard he’s asking everybody he sees if they’ve seen or
heard from Tricia. As a matter of fact, he asked me just today.”

Clint’s head jerked up. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now. When I got to work this morning, he
was waiting in the parking lot.”

“Are you sure he didn’t follow you here?”

Neil sighed. “For the tenth time—I’m sure. I was very
careful.”

Clint took a deep breath and ordered himself to relax. Of
course Neil had been careful. Neil knew as well as he did the consequences of allowing
Tricia to be located by that maniac.

“What’d Matt say to you?” He was pleased when the question
came out calm, almost boarding on casual.

Neil shook his head. “Man, he had his story all worked out.
Had an explanation for everything.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Said he and Tricia had a
disagreement
, and she got
upset and left. Asked me if I knew where she was. I told him I didn’t have any
idea, I hadn’t seen or heard from her. He said if I did see her that she might
have some bruises because when she tried to leave he grabbed her arm—just to
talk to her—and she yanked back and in the process fell and hurt herself.”

“Do you think he believed you when you said you hadn’t heard
from her?”

Neil shrugged. “Don’t know. He told me he’s staying out at
his brother’s and to let him know if I hear from her. Said it’s important he
talk to her.” Neil paused, took a drink of beer, then stared Clint straight in
the eye.

Shit.
Clint hated when Neil did that. When he paused
and looked at you intently, it was his way of saying
brace yourself for
what’s coming next
.

“Tell me,” Clint demanded.

“Claims she’s pregnant. Said that’s why it’s so urgent he
speak with her and straighten all this out.”

Clint’s heart stopped working. He was sure it actually
ceased beating for several seconds. And he forgot to breathe. He forced himself
to inhale.

Good God. Could things get any more complicated?

If she was pregnant, it would make it more even difficult
for her to get free of Matt. Sharing a child with her would give him yet
another hold over her. As the father of her child, he would have rights. Along
with a court system that would allow him to pursue those rights over and over
again. Clint knew firsthand all about the long, expensive, legal processes
involved with family court.

As much as Clint wanted to believe Tricia wasn’t pregnant,
it might explain some things. Like why she’d put up with Matt for years and
then suddenly decided to walk away. Maybe it was a pregnancy that had finally
given her the incentive she needed to leave.

“What do you think?”

Clint looked over at Neil. He blinked and shook his head.
“Sorry. I wasn’t listening. What did you say?”

“I suggested giving Matt a false lead. Telling him Tricia
called, and she’s in New Orleans or something.”

Clint considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “He
wouldn’t buy it. Tricia has no money. He thinks she’s gone somewhere where she
knows someone who’ll help her. He thinks she’s in Lexington.”

“Exactly. So, knowing that she’d be aware of that, he might
believe she’d go somewhere else.”

“Maybe. But I’m not sure he’d believe that you would willingly
tell him where to find her.”

“I never had any cross words with him.” Neil shrugged. “Of
course, I wasn’t exactly
friendly
toward him either. But I could play up
the whole pregnancy angle. You know—I’m a father too, I couldn’t imagine not
knowing where my kid was…and so on.”

“Let’s wait him out for a while. Did he say how much longer
he planned to be in Lexington?”

“I asked. He said he wasn’t sure.” Neil walked over to the
grill and poked at a piece of chicken with a fork. “Unless we’re going for
Cajun style, I think this is just about done.” He transferred the meat to a
plate, turned off the grill, and headed for the door. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” Clint stood and followed Neil inside.

The table was set and filled with side dishes—corn on the
cob, mashed potatoes, gravy, bread. Neil sat the platter of chicken on the
table. “Where’s AJ?” he asked.

“Sleeping,” Jenny replied. “Sit down. We just need to pour
the drinks, and we’ll be ready.”

Clint was tempted to ask for a whiskey but decided against
it. He needed to have a clear head for the conversation he intended to have
later with Tricia. Apparently, she was still withholding information from him.
And damn it, if he was going to help her, he had to know everything.

Everyone took a seat, and dishes were passed around the
table. As they ate, Jenny and Tricia chattered. Every once in a while Neil
added a two-word sentence to the conversation. But Clint didn’t speak a word.
He just watched and listened, amazed at the transformation in Tricia. She was
relaxed, friendly, smiling. She seemed like a different woman.

Since he’d re-entered her life, she certainly hadn’t offered
him any of those beaming smiles. There’d been no friendly conversations, no
warmth…but there had been a kiss.

A kiss which had occurred for no purpose other than evading
attention by a police officer. Even though Clint knew the reason behind the
kiss, it didn’t change the fact that when she’d pressed her soft, sweet lips
against his, desire had surged hot and heavy through his body.

At the time he’d been too stunned to respond, and he’d
cursed himself numerous times for it. If he could do it over again, he’d pull
her close, dip his tongue…

“Clint, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Jenny said.

Shoving the sensual thoughts from his mind, Clint glanced in
Jenny’s direction. “Don’t have anything to say.”

He looked down to see his plate was empty and decided he
must be through, although he hadn’t tasted a bite of the food. He pushed his
chair away from the table, reached in his pocket for a cigarette, and lit it
up.

Jenny frowned. “When did you start smoking again?”

“Recently.”

Jenny shook her head. “And you were doing so well.” She
wiped her hands with her napkin and pointed a finger in his direction. “You
know, that’s really bad for your health.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes you do things even when you
know you shouldn’t.” The past few days were a prime example of that.

Jenny tossed her napkin on the table and turned her
attention to Tricia. “I need to check on AJ, and then I’ll help you clean up.”

“Clint, I’ll help you outside,” Neil said.

Confused, Clint looked at him.

Neil leaned closer to him and lowered his voice. “Either we
go outside and pretend to be busy, or we stay in here and take a chance of getting
drafted into washing dishes.”

“Now that I think about it, there are some things that need
to be done outside.”

Neil grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “I thought
maybe there were.”

Clint and Neil stood and headed for the door.

“Hey,” Tricia called out.

Both men stopped and turned to face her.

“I’m going to tell Jenny.” The words were a threat, the tone
firm, but the teasing glint in her eyes gave her away.

Neil chuckled. “No, you won’t, ’cause you’re too nice to
squeal on me,” he said as they continued outside.

Clint cleaned the grill, and they walked out to the corrals
where they watched the horses graze in the pasture. After an hour, they decided
it was probably safe to return. When they stepped inside the house, they found
Tricia and Jenny in the kitchen.

Tricia held AJ against her shoulder, stroking his back with
a gentle, steady rhythm. The baby had his hand balled into a fist which he had
stuck into his mouth, and he was sucking on ut as if it were the most delicious
thing in the world. AJ looked very content. Tricia looked…very maternal.
Clint’s stomach clenched at the thought of her carrying Matt’s child.

“You ready to go?” Neil asked Jenny.

“Yeah.” Jenny picked up AJ’s diaper bag, took the child from
Tricia, and they all walked to the door.

“Where are my car keys?” Tricia asked Neil.

Rather than answering, he jerked his head toward Clint and
continued on outside. “You take care,” Neil told her.

“Be careful,” Jenny added.

“You too,” Tricia replied.

Clint closed the door and locked it. When he turned around,
Tricia was standing in front of him with her hand held out, palm up.

“I want my keys,” she demanded.

“I’ll hang on to them for a little while.”

She propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What?”

“I said I’ll hang on—”

“I heard what you said,” she hissed. “Why?”

“Because you don’t need to be taking off.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Where would I go?”

“I don’t know, Tricia. Maybe you’d go to see Matt, try to
make a deal with him. Or maybe you’d just leave altogether—with no money and
nowhere to go.”

“That’d be pretty stupid, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would be very stupid. But right now you’re not
thinking rationally, so until you are, I’ll hang on to your keys.”

“That’s my property, and you have no right to take it,” she
said between clenched teeth, fury blazing in her eyes.

“You’ll get it back eventually.”

Tricia scrubbed her face with her hands and emitted a
frustrated growl. Without another word, she turned and headed down the hallway.

“Tricia.”

She spun around to face him. “What?” she spat out.

He crossed his arms over his chest and braced himself for
her answer. “Are you pregnant?”

Tricia gaped at Clint, shocked at the question he’d tossed
her way. Where in the world had he gotten that idea?

“What?” she sputtered.

“Neil talked to Matt today. He claims you’re pregnant.”

“Neil talked… Jenny didn’t say a word about it.”

“Maybe Neil didn’t tell her.” Clint stared directly into her
eyes, almost as if he would find the answer to his question there. “Are you pregnant?”

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head as everything in her body
shuddered. The thought of being pregnant with Matt’s child chilled her soul.

“Then why do you suppose he said you are?”

“I don’t know.” Her mind searched for an explanation. What
possible motivation would Matt have had for telling Neil something like that?
“Maybe he thought if he told Neil that, then Neil would be more likely to tell
him where I am.” A pretty lame answer, even she realized that, but it was the
only possible reason she could come up with.

“Maybe.”

There was a tone in his voice she couldn’t quite identify.
Was it uncertainty or simply disbelief?

“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” Clint asked.

“Yes,” she hissed. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, she tugged
it up, baring her tummy for his view. “Do I look pregnant?”

He looked down at her stomach. “No, you don’t.” His gaze
returned to meet hers. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“I’m not,” she snapped as she shoved her shirt back down.
Rubbing a hand over her forehead, she struggled to calm down. “What else did
Matt say?”

“Not much. He didn’t say how much longer he’d be hanging
around, but he did tell Neil he wanted to speak with you and straighten things
out. Apparently, he’s worried about his child growing up without a father.”

“There is no child.”

“How can you be so certain? Even if you used protection,
sometimes it fails. That’s a fact I know firsthand.”

“For the last time, I am
not
pregnant.”

Tricia turned on her heels and headed down the hallway and
into the bedroom. She gave the door a powerful fling behind her. When she
failed to hear the slam that should have occurred, she looked back to find the
door wide open and Clint leaning against the doorjamb.

“Get out of my room,” she ordered.

“Actually, it’s my room,” he replied, his tone mild. “And
we’re not done yet. You know, if you are pregnant, then it’s a whole different
ballgame. There’s going to be lots of other things to consider, and you might
need to rethink your strategy for dealing with Matt.”

“Well, since I’m not, I don’t need to worry about it.” She
planted her fists on her hips and glared at him, but he didn’t budge an inch,
just stood there staring her down. “I can’t believe you’re taking Matt’s word
over mine.
Matt.
You said yourself you know what he’s like. He’s deceitful,
underhanded, and he lies so much he can’t even distinguish a lie from the truth
anymore.”

“You have to admit that a pregnancy would explain a lot.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “What on earth would it
explain?”

“You stayed with the man for years, and all the sudden you
decided to leave. A pregnancy might have given you the push you needed to do
that.”

“No. What gave me the push was his fist slamming against my
jaw. Along with the realization that if I stayed with him much longer, I could
end up in prison.”

He stared at her silently, an unreadable expression on his
face.

“Basically you’re calling me a liar.” Why it stung, she
hadn’t a clue, because Lord knew, she had been called worse. “What do I have to
do to convince you I’m telling the truth? Do you want me to take a lie detector
test?”

“I think that might be a little extreme. Although, there is
another test you could take.”

She blinked in disbelief. She hadn’t actually been serious
about taking a test—any test. “Excuse me? You want me to take a test to prove
something I already know?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It was your idea. And an excellent
one too. We’ll go buy the test tomorrow morning.” He grabbed the doorknob and
took a step back. “Good night, Tricia.”

She stared at the closed door and tried to figure out
exactly how it had been her idea.

* * * *

Tricia opened the bathroom door to find Clint waiting on the
other side. He was leaning against the wall, reading the back of the home
pregnancy test package.

“I’m surprised you didn’t demand to come inside and watch me
pee on the stick,” she spat at him.

“No need to be cranky,” he informed her calmly. He nodded
toward the test wand she held in her hand. “What’s the verdict?”

She thrust the wand in his hand, wanting very much to thrust
it right in his eye. He looked down and studied it.

“One red line.” His lips curved up in a smile. “That’s a
negative.” Without warning, he leaned forward, wrapped a large, warm hand
around the nape of her neck, and planted a quick peck on her forehead.
“Congratulations.”

Their gazes met, locked. His mouth hovered above hers. He
would only have to lean forward a few inches to close the gap and press his
lips against hers.

Clint was an expert at the art of kissing. Long, sensuous
kisses that started slow and built in intensity until she was unable to form a
coherent thought. Kisses that left her feeling special, cherished.

It’d been a long time since she’d experienced something like
that. And she could only imagine how much his technique must have improved over
the years. Unable to resist, she dropped her gaze to his mouth. She waited,
anticipated, wanted.

His hand tightened the smallest degree on her neck, the
action prompting sanity to finally reacquire control of her brain. Dragging her
gaze away, she took a step back.

Clint dropped his hand, expelled a shaky breath, and cleared
his throat. “Now we’ll have something to celebrate tonight.”

“Tonight?” Her brows drew together in confusion.

“Yep, when we go to Bushwhackers.”

“Bushwhackers?”

“Is something wrong with your hearing? Why are you repeating
everything I say?”

“If you’d make sense when you speak, I wouldn’t be repeating
it.”

“Tonight we’re going to Bushwhackers, which is a bar, to
hear Jack sing. You need to be ready to leave by seven.” He spoke slowly and
precisely, as if explaining something to a small child.

“I’m not going out with you.”

That would be dangerously close to a date. Her
yearnings
from mere minutes before confirmed that she needed to avoid contact with Clint.
In a social situation, where the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, it might
be too easy to let her guard slip.

“Suit yourself, but I said I’d be there, so I’m going. And
after your
take me
demand, David’s expecting to see you there too. If
you don’t show up, he’s going to be curious. He’ll probably ask questions. But
if it doesn’t worry you…”

“I’m sure you’ll make an excuse for me.”

“Don’t count on it.”

He turned and headed down the hallway, leaving Tricia
scowling at his retreating back.

I’m not going.

Once Tricia heard the back door shut, she went into the
kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. She walked out onto the deck, dropped down
in a lawn chair, and fumed.

She was not going. That was final. If David asked questions,
Clint would make some vague excuse for her. She was certain of it. He’d already
agreed not to tell David anything about her situation.

Tricia frowned as she remembered the words he’d tacked on to
the end of that agreement—
for now
. He’d conveniently left himself room
to wiggle right out of the promise. And if he got a few beers in him, he just
might do it.

Damn. I’m going.

As she resigned herself to the notion of spending a night in
a social situation with Clint, an idea began to form in her mind. She might
have to go, but she certainly wouldn’t enjoy it. And if she didn’t enjoy it,
then why should Clint?

* * * *

The banging on the bathroom door didn’t faze Tricia in the
least. It was the third time it had occurred in the last five minutes, and she
was used to it by now. With each session, the pounding had grown louder. At
present, it was so insistent Tricia could swear she actually saw the door shake
on its hinges.

“Come on, Tricia,” Clint yelled. “I need to take a shower.”

“In a minute.”

“A minute. Yeah, right.”

She snapped the lid shut on her eye shadow container and
tossed it on the counter. Removing the top from a bottle of perfume, she
sprayed her wrist and her neck, then unbuttoned the top two buttons of her
blouse and squirted a generous portion on her cleavage. Not that anyone would
be sniffing that particular part of her body, but it was simply a habit she had
developed when she’d been a hopeful teenager.

She took a minute to fluff her hair, and then studied the
outcome of her work in the mirror. She ran a hand over her jeans, readjusted
the green silk shirt. They hugged her curves without being overly blatant. Satisfied
with the results, she leisurely gathered the bottles and containers from the
counter and placed them in her bag.

She opened the door and found herself face to face with a
very agitated male who had his fist drawn back. For a full second she panicked
before she managed to rein in the feeling.
This is Clint, not Matt. He’d
never hit me. I just happened to open the door as he raised his fist to bang on
it again.

“About damn time,” Clint muttered as he lowered his arm.

“So sorry you had to wait.” The insincerity of her tone
matched the smile she pasted on her lips.

“I’ll just bet you are,” Clint said as he moved past her.

After depositing the bag in the bedroom, Tricia sauntered
into the living room. Staring out the window, she absently fingered her
necklace as she considered how best to put her plan into action.

At the sound of footsteps, she glanced over and surveyed
Clint from the tips of his boots, to his form-fitting jeans, to his gray shirt,
which did an excellent job of defining the muscles underneath. His face was
clean shaven, and even hardened with irritation like it was, there was no
denying it was appealing.

He looked fantastic, and it had only taken him twenty
minutes, as opposed to the hour she had spent getting ready. God, how she hated
him for it.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” she said with a smile. “Is
Candy going to be there?”

“I imagine so.”

Perfect. “What fun we’re going to have.”

“We?” He lifted a brow. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Oh, he knew she was coming. “I changed my mind.”

With a wave of his hand he gestured for her to precede him
to the door. “Then let’s go.”

Once they were inside the truck, Tricia patted her chest
with her hand and exhaled an exaggerated long breath of air.

“I had to practically run to keep up with you. You’re sure
in a hurry to get there. You must be missing Candy something awful.” She
reached over and touched the hair that brushed against the collar of his shirt.
“Your hair’s getting a little long.” Deliberately, she ran her finger lightly
down the side of his neck. “It might be time to get a haircut.”

He glanced in her direction. “What are you doing, Tricia?”

She shrugged and hoped to achieve a look of innocence on her
face. “Just making an observation.”

He regarded her with a disbelieving, wary expression, then
focused his attention on the road without responding. Tricia sat back with a
small smile and enjoyed the silent ride into town.

When Clint pulled into a dirt parking lot, Tricia
straightened in her seat and glanced around. There were several cars and a few
trucks that looked sparkling new, but they stuck out conspicuously in the midst
of the older, dirty, dented trucks which filled the majority of the lot.

By the time Tricia finished her survey of the area, Clint
had exited the truck and was opening the passenger door for her.

“Just a second.” She pulled a tube out of her pocket. With
the cab light now on, she flipped down the visor and took a moment to apply a
fresh coat of lipstick. Once she finished, she glanced up and saw Clint
watching her, his gaze fixed on her lips.

“All done.” She capped the tube and stuffed it back in her
pocket.

“Thank God,” Clint muttered.

She slid out of the truck. “It was so sweet of you to wait
for me.”

She pressed a kiss, quick but firm, near the corner of his
mouth. Stepping back, she examined her work, pleased to see the dark pink
outline of her lips on his face.

Ignoring the suspicion in his eyes, she turned and led the
way to the building, Clint following behind her. She concentrated on putting a
little extra swing in her hips and hoped Clint was watching, otherwise all that
effort was for nothing.

The second she pulled the door open, a variety of sounds
assaulted her ears. A multitude of voices laughed and talked, practically yelling
to be heard over the loud country music playing in the background.

She stepped inside and examined the interior of the
building. It basically was one enormous room, and it was filled with people.
Some stood at the bar, others sat on stools, and still more were at tables.
Everyone was dressed in jeans and a good portion of them had a Stetson plopped
on their head.

A band played on a stage on the opposite side of the room.
In front of the stage, a huge dance floor was filled with couples plastered
together swaying to the music.

Fans attached to the ceiling swirled, circulating the air.
But they weren’t powerful enough to dissolve the lingering haze of smoke hanging
in the room.

“There’s a table.” Clint placed his hand on the small of her
back and steered her toward the back corner.

As they made their way across the room, she caught a
customer at the bar staring at her. The man was built like a football player. A
bulky body, massive shoulders, and the most enormous neck she had ever seen in
her life. While Tricia didn’t find him particularly attractive, the admiration
in his eyes gave her confidence an immediate boost, and her lips curved in
response.