Sympathy Pains (3 page)

Marilee inhaled sharply beneath his mouth and moaned. Every dream he'd been in, every fantasy she'd ever had about this man was nothing compared to this searing kiss. When he thrust a hand through her hair and cupped the back of her neck, tugging her forward, she followed. Monopoly pieces went flying as she shoved them aside and crawled across the table to meet him. Justin groaned beneath his breath and took her by the shoulders. Within seconds she was flat on her back on the kitchen table and he was on top of her. Brief moments of sanity came and went. Enough to know that his hands were tracing every curve that she had and his mouth was ravaging every bare inch of her skin. After that, she discarded all caution.

There was one moment when Justin knew he
was losing control and seriously thought about stopping, and then Marilee moaned. The knowledge that she was as moved by what was happening as he was, was an aphrodisiac he wasn't prepared to fight. Instead of stripping her bare and taking her there on the kitchen table, he slid off the table then picked her up in his arms.

“Bed,” he mumbled as her fingers tugged at the buttons on his shirt.

“Go left,” she whispered, and then groaned when he nipped the curve of her neck just below her chin.

Within moments he had her flat on her back in the middle of her bed, stripping her clothes as he went. Hers came off first, then his followed. Outside, a gust of wind rattled the old panes in the windows beside her bed, but neither of them heard it. The storm outside was nothing compared to what was going on within. When Justin began ravaging her body with his lips, she gasped. She wasn't a virgin, but no one had ever touched her this intimately, and in so many places.

“Oh, Justin, I—”

He hushed her words with another searing kiss. By the time he lifted his head, she was past help and so was he. Never in his adult life had he so completely lost control. There was nothing on his mind but getting inside this woman's body and
seeking that soul-shattering pleasure of physical release. Then, because Justin Wheeler always got what he wanted, he plunged himself into Marilee and took them both into sexual bliss.

They turned to each other over and over throughout the night, sometimes tenderly, sometimes ravenous for the body-to-body connection. It never occurred to Justin that Marilee was giving him more than just a bed and a tumble. He didn't know that she'd given her heart.

* * *

It was the absence of sound that first awakened Justin to the new day. Then he heard Marilee's gentle breathing. He raised up on one elbow to look down at the woman beside him. There was a part of him registering the fact that she was as beautiful now as she had been last night while bathed in candlelight. But there was that other part of him that was thinking what in hell had he done? He'd not only gone to bed with a woman who was a virtual stranger, but he'd said and done things to her that he'd never said or done to another woman.

Ever.

And it scared him.

Without wasting another second, he slipped out of bed and began putting on his clothes. When he was down to his boots, he picked them up and
started out of the room, then paused in the doorway and looked back.

Marilee was still asleep, one arm hanging off the edge of the bed, the other pillowing her cheek. The covers had slipped off one of her shoulders and the slim, creamy curve reminded him of the beauty of her body, still hidden beneath. Twice he started to go back to kiss her awake and tell her he would never forget her or the shelter she'd offered from the storm. But he was afraid if he did, he would not be able to leave. So he wrote a quick note, leaving it in the middle of the kitchen table among the scattered Monopoly money. Then he put on his boots, grabbed his coat and his keys and let himself out of the house.

To his relief, a snowplow had already made a path down the street, although he had to wade through a good foot of snow to get to his truck. The engine started easily. Thankful for four-wheel drive and a three-quarter-ton rig, he backed out of Marilee's driveway and drove away without looking back.

He was already at the outskirts of Lubbock when Marilee woke up. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew he was gone. The bed was cold and so was she—all the way to her soul. With a muffled sob, she rolled onto her belly.

Six months later

It was five minutes to 6:00 p.m. and the main dining room of the Roadrunner was bustling with locals as well as the first wave of vacationing tourists. The day had been unseasonably warm for May with no signs of cooling off. Marilee reached above an empty booth on the west side of the room to lower the window shades and winced as her belly bumped into the back of the booth.

“Sorry, baby,” she muttered as she gave her belly a pat.

Even though she'd had six months to get used to the idea that she was going to be a mother, she sometimes still forgot to accommodate her new shape to old habits.

“Marilee, I'll get those shades,” Dellie said, giving Marilee a quick pat on the back.

“I'm not crippled,” Marilee grumbled.

“And we'd like to keep you that way,” Dellie said with a wink.

Marilee smiled and went to fill water glasses instead. It wasn't the first time the other waitresses had jumped in and taken a job off her hands that they considered too strenuous for her. She appreciated their thoughtfulness, but didn't want Calvin to think she couldn't handle the work. If
she lost her job, she didn't know what she would do.

“Order up,” Calvin yelled, and rang the small bell at the pick-up window.

Marilee saw the four plates were hers and began loading the tray to carry them to the table.

“That's gonna be pretty heavy,” Calvin warned.

“Not you, too,” Marilee said.

“It's just 'cause we care, honey.”

Marilee smiled her thanks, but loaded the tray the same way she always did and took off across the room with it shoulder-high.

Calvin frowned as he watched. She'd never said one word about her condition or about the man who was responsible. One day she'd just shown up in a maternity top, her eyes brimming with unshed tears and her head held high. No one had asked and she hadn't offered an explanation. After a few days it became a matter of course. They now knew the baby was due around the last of July or the first part of August and that Marilee was saving every penny of her tip money to pay for the upcoming hospitalization. Beyond that it was all a mystery.

And while Calvin was keeping his personal thoughts to himself, he had a real good idea who the father might be. Justin Wheeler had been a weekly regular until the night of the snowstorm
when he'd gone home with Marilee. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since.

“Worthless cowboy,” he muttered, and went back to his grill as Marilee carried the orders to her customers.

“Chicken-fried steaks all around,” she said as she laid the plates in front of four hungry men.

“Thanks, honey,” one of them said, and then smiled. “I can see you're packin'. Is it a boy or a girl?”

She sighed. “Best guess is a boy.”

“You mean you ain't had one of them pictures took of your belly? My wife did with every kid we got. She don't like surprises.”

Yes, surprises can be a bitch,
Marilee thought, and then said, “Had one, but they couldn't be sure. How many children
do
you have?”

“Four,” he said, and then grinned a little wider. “All boys. She wants a girl—but not enough to take another chance.”

“I sympathize with her decision,” Marilee said. “Will there be anything else?”

“Got any Tabasco sauce?”

“Coming right up,” Marilee said, and turned away, glancing toward the entrance as she headed for the kitchen.

At that moment, she knew the rest of her day wasn't going to go as smoothly as it had started,
because Justin Wheeler was walking in the door. Her thoughts went from shock, to panic, to anger and then numb. But it was the anger that finally resurfaced. She lifted her chin, snatched a bottle of Tabasco sauce from beneath the counter and put it on the table.

“Enjoy your meal,” she said, and then hissed at her friend Dellie as she passed her by.

“Dellie, do me a favor, please?”

“Name it, honey,” the waitress said.

“Take that man's order.”

Dellie turned, looking in the direction that Marilee was pointing, and then frowned.

“But he's sitting at your table, honey. Are you sure you—”

“If he came in here to eat, then someone else is going to have to serve him,” Marilee snapped. “I'll catch this couple for you instead,” and went to get menus for a couple who'd just sat down.

Realization hit as Dellie turned to stare. She didn't know his name, but she would bet a week's worth of tips that he was the man who'd put that baby in Marilee's belly. She snatched up a menu from the end of the bar and then stomped across the room.

* * *

Justin Wheeler was a little antsy. It had been a long time since he'd been to the Roadrunner.
Long enough that whatever panic or embarrassment he might have felt at seeing Marilee again had been replaced by pure shame. He'd known within minutes of leaving her house that morning that he should have awakened her first. And all the way to Lubbock he'd told himself he would call. Only, he hadn't. Then, when Christmas drew near, he'd started to send her flowers, just as a thank-you, of course, for the shelter from the storm, but that good thought had come and gone without any action, either.

One thing had led to another and the weeks had turned into months. The excuses he'd made to himself as to why he was circumventing Amarillo on his way home from Dallas had begun sounding lame, even to him. Finally, on this fine spring day, he'd made up his mind that he was going to stop in and say hello, if for no other reason than to prove to himself that she didn't matter—that the dreams he'd had of her every night since he'd left were nothing more than just flights of fancy.

When he walked into the restaurant, he realized that he'd actually missed coming here. The food was good—well above average—and the people were always friendly. The fact that he'd chosen to sit at one of Marilee's tables was simply because all—well, most...uh, some—of the other places were taken.

He took off his Stetson, laid it brimside up on the seat beside him and was combing his hair with his fingers when someone slapped a menu in front of him.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

He looked up. It wasn't Marilee who was asking, but whoever she was, she looked pissed.

“How about some iced tea?” he asked, and flashed her a grin.

She glared.

It was the first time he'd ever gotten that kind of a reaction from something as simple as a smile.

“What's good today?” he asked without opening the menu.

“I'll take your order when I bring your tea.”

Justin was taken aback. Whoever this woman was, she needed an attitude adjustment. It wasn't until she stomped away that a thought occurred. What if Marilee didn't work here anymore? What if she'd moved? What if he never saw her again?

A sheen of cold sweat suddenly beaded across his forehead. It was panic, pure and simple.

God. He'd waited too long.

He glanced around the room, his stomach in knots, and then immediately the panic receded. There she was, on the other side of the room! He'd recognize those long legs and that topknot of chocolate-brown hair anywhere. He stared at
her back, willing her to turn, and then when she did, every thought in his head just stopped. Everything about her was the same—just as he'd remembered, just as he'd dreamed—except for the fact that she was obviously pregnant.

“Lord Almighty,” he muttered as his bones turned to mush.

He thought back to that night and of the countless times they'd made love. He hadn't used protection, which was careless, of course. But it wasn't as if he'd planned on having sex. And he'd just assumed that she was protected. Women her age knew the score. It wasn't as if she'd been a virgin, and she'd been damned willing.

Then reason surfaced. What the hell was he thinking? Just because he'd spent the night in her bed didn't mean he was the only one who had. For all he knew, he was just one of many. But the moment he thought it, he knew that he was wrong. He'd known plenty of easy women, and Marilee Cash just hadn't come across that way.

All of a sudden another thought hit. What the hell was wrong with him? Six months had come and gone. Hell, she was probably married. And the moment he thought it, he groaned. He didn't want her married. He didn't want her coming apart in someone else's arms.

So, since when does what you want matter in
her life? You had your chance, buddy. You walked out without so much as a “thank you, ma'am.” She doesn't owe you anything, especially allegiance.

But the pep talk he gave himself didn't help. He watched her from across the room, trying to see if she was wearing a wedding ring, but he couldn't tell.

And then his waitress came back. He actually found himself wanting to duck when she swung the glass of iced tea through the air before plunking it down at his place.

“Know what you want yet?” she asked.

“Yeah. Some consideration would be nice,” he muttered.

“You have to give it before you receive it, buddy.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Something told him that there was more than a bad attitude under the little waitress's behavior.

“I want to talk to Marilee,” he said. “Will you tell her I'm here?”

“Oh, she already knows.”

The answer hit like a fist to the gut. For a moment he couldn't think what to do. Then reality surfaced. By God, he wasn't going to be ignored. He shoved the menu aside and picked up his hat,
jamming it on his head as he got up from the booth.

“Leaving so soon?” Dellie asked.