Читать книгу Almost Perfect - Judy Duarte, Judy Duarte - Страница 9

Way back in third grade, Jake Meredith decided that only a complete fool would set himself up for failure. Thank God he’d learned that lesson early on.

It was a game plan that had served him well over the years.

Until fate threw him a curve.

Surveying the barn and corrals, Jake stood at the kitchen sink of the main ranch house and shook his head. Buckaroo Ranch. What a waste of good land and stock.

He’d had his fill of this place years ago and left home on his eighteenth birthday. But now, in spite of his distaste for city slickers and dude ranches, the whole kit and caboodle was his.

And since his sister had taken deposits for reservations a year in advance, and he didn’t have a clue what she’d done with the money, he was stuck running the place until the guests had a chance to play cowboy for a week.

But that wasn’t the bulk of his problems.

He glanced across the kitchen at the eighteen-month-old boy who was making a godawful mess with his bowl of spaghetti. When their eyes met, the toddler flashed a big grin, oozing with red-tinged slobber. Jake wasn’t sure whether Sam was pleased with the taste of marinara or just plain happy to smear sauce and noodles in his hair and all over the high chair.

Rosa was going to have a hell of a mess to clean up, but she wouldn’t complain. She never did. He supposed the nanny loved Kayla and Sam like her own children, which was lucky for them.

Not that Jake didn’t love his niece and nephew, he did. They were the neatest kids he’d ever known, and he had always indulged them like a good uncle should. But one day, the girl and boy who adored him would learn he was a fraud—something they were bound to find out soon, now that he was their full-time guardian.

He took one last look at the court documents that had just arrived, the legal ruling that sealed the fates of his sister’s kids, as well as his own. He shoved the papers back into the manila envelope and tossed the whole legal package on top of the fridge—out of sight, but certainly not out of mind.

Jake combed a hand through his hair. He wasn’t any good at family stuff. Never had been. Hell, everyone he’d ever loved had failed him, one way or another. Even Sharon, his sister, who’d died and left him in a lurch.

When he and Sharon were kids, she’d tried to look out for him, to keep him on the straight and narrow. He’d grumbled and complained about her nagging, of course, but it had been comforting to know she loved him in spite of his rebellious nature. And that she’d always be there for him.

Times like today, when things were really piling up on him, he would always touch base with his sister. Dying wasn’t her fault, but he’d felt deserted, just the same.

Of course, he’d come up pretty damn short on the dependability scale himself. He’d never been one to check in with his sister on a regular basis, so by the time Rosa finally tracked him down at a rodeo in Wyoming and relayed the grim news of the car accident, it was too late to attend the funeral services for Sharon or her husband.

The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He snatched the receiver from the wall. “Hello.”

A woman’s voice on the other end seemed to stutter and falter. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Maggie.”

Thoughts of Maggie Templeton brought a slow smile to his lips. In his mind, she was still seventeen, tall and awkward, with hair the color of corn silk and a splatter of freckles across her nose. As a teenager, she’d been the best friend he’d ever had. His only friend, he supposed.

They hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years, but they talked on the telephone periodically, catching up on major life events like marriage, divorce and death.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Jake looked at five-year-old Kayla, then at Sam. What was he going to say in front of the kids? That he was struggling to be the kind of father his sister would want him to be? That he was scared spitless he wouldn’t measure up? “I’m doing okay.”

“Is Rosa still working for you?”

Jake didn’t know what he’d do without the woman who’d taken care of Sharon’s kids since birth. Rosa wasn’t just his baby-sitter, housekeeper, office manager and reader of bedtime stories; she was a blessed saint. “I doubled her salary, just to make sure she wouldn’t quit.”

“That’s great,” Maggie said. “I…uh…” She seemed to hesitate over the words, so he waited for her to speak. For a moment he thought the line had disconnected.

“You what?”

She blew out a sigh. “I need a date on Saturday night. And I thought that, if I purchased your airline ticket, you might come help me out.”

“Be your date?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Yes. As a favor to me.”

It wasn’t like Maggie to ask for help, and he figured this phone call hadn’t been easy to make. “Are you still living in Boston?”

“For the time being. I’m going to be moving to California in a couple of months.”

Something didn’t add up. He’d never been one to pry, although he did wonder about the details. “Don’t they have any eligible men in Boston? Why are you asking me?”

“Because I want a friend to escort me to a benefit dance, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather go with.”

Jake glanced at the Spaghetti Kid, just as Sam chucked a Melmac plate across the kitchen, littering the floor with noodles and splatters of sauce. Several strands of pasta dangled from his downy-fine hair, and Jake couldn’t help shaking his head and smiling at the happy little boy.

At the kitchen table, five-year-old Kayla slowly sucked a long string of spaghetti into her mouth while concentrating on a picture book illustration of a bunch of roller-skating bugs parading through a strawberry patch. She’d been grumpy when he wouldn’t read to her and Sam while they ate, something Rosa often did.

But Jake refused to read out loud. It put too damn much pressure on him to perform, and it brought back too many memories of childhood.

He looked at the spaghetti-riddled floor. Escaping Texas and going to Boston for a day or two suddenly sounded very appealing. “Okay.”

“Are you sure? What about the kids?” she asked.

“Rosa’s good with them, and they love her. Shoot, she’s already raised three boys and a girl.” Sam and Kayla were far better off with Rosa than a bachelor uncle who didn’t know squat about kids.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

Mind getting away? Mind seeing Maggie again? “Not at all. I’ll line things up around here, then let you know what time my flight arrives.”

Dr. Maggie Templeton paced in front of the walkway that led to the terminal gate. What made her think she could call a man out of the blue and ask him to do a favor like this?

Desperation, that’s what. And a hospital benefit she didn’t want to attend.

Maybe she should have feigned an attack of appendicitis. Or put a cast on her leg. She could have called the dentist and scheduled an unnecessary root canal. How was that for desperation?

She blew out a ragged breath. No matter how plausible the excuse, it didn’t matter. Dr. Margaret Templeton would arrive on time, dressed to the hilt, looking comfortable on the outside, while childish insecurities ran amok on the inside. At least she’d have Jake at her side. But Maggie wasn’t sure that seeing him again would make her feel any more secure.

A voice over the intercom announced his plane had arrived from Houston, and her steps faltered.

He was here. Would she recognize him after all these years?

Maggie stood transfixed, searching the steady stream of disembarking passengers for someone who resembled the gangly teenager who’d once been her best friend.

Did he still wear his hair long and slightly unkempt? Had he finally grown taller than her? Did he still prefer Wrangler jeans, a worn Stetson and scuffed boots?

As a tall, lean cowboy, dressed in black, sauntered through the door, her breath caught. Jake?

Bright blue eyes, the color of a Texas summer sky, crinkled in amusement, and he flashed her a reckless smile. “Hot damn, Maggie. You grew up good.”

“So did you,” she managed to say.

Jake Meredith now stood six-two or more, broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hips. Sporting a black suede jacket and Stetson, the man caused more than one head to turn for a double take.

He hadn’t shaved this morning, she noticed, but the dark stubble looked good, giving him an intriguing, rugged appearance—a look even her most conservative side found appealing.

A small, jagged scar marred his left brow. The physician in her wondered how it had happened.

The woman in her wanted to trace it with her finger.

Whoa, she told herself, pulling out of the awkward trance. Jake was her friend, her escort. She had no intention of stretching their relationship beyond that. Sharon, his sister, had said he was a charmer, a real ladies’ man, and Maggie wasn’t about to become another notch on his bedpost.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, trying to remember her manners as well as hide her surprise.

“I’m glad I could help out.” He brushed a soft kiss on her cheek and gave her a hug. The scent of peppermint, leather and musk lingered long after he released her.

“How much do I owe you for the airline ticket?” Maggie asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He placed a hand on her back and ushered her through the terminal. “This wing-ding must be a big deal.”

“It is,” she told him. But she doubted he really understood.

She’d worked hard to see the new pediatric ICU become a reality, as had Rhonda Martin, another pediatrician in her office. Tonight’s formal event, El Baile Elegante, was a gala intended to thank donors and secure their ongoing financial support. Even though Maggie could no longer stand being in the same room with Rhonda, professionalism demanded she attend.

“There’s got to be a hundred guys in this city who’d love to take you to that shindig. I still don’t understand why you asked me.”

“Because I want a real friend to accompany me, and there don’t seem to be too many friendly faces in Boston anymore.”

His expression sobered, and he paused before responding. “I’m not like the people you usually hobnob with, Maggie. And I hope you don’t expect me to be.”

She didn’t. When they’d first become friends at Buckaroo Ranch, Jake had been a rebel, a James Dean on horseback. And Maggie had been a young Marian the Librarian. She doubted he’d changed much, if at all, which was all right with her. Jake had a way of making life seem simple and uncomplicated. And he’d had a way of making her smile when life seemed unbearable.

She slid him a quick glance. The skinny kid had sure filled out. And grown up.

They continued toward the exit, walking along with other travelers who’d made Boston their destination.

“I’m sorry about your divorce,” he said, his soft Southern drawl washing over her like a warm summer rain. “Are you doing okay?”

Not really, but she was making progress. “My pride took a bigger hit than my heart, but I’ll be all right.”

Jake didn’t comment, and she was grateful. Lord knew she’d psychoanalyzed herself enough in the past six months.

Learning that her husband Tom and Rhonda had conceived a baby had hurt, particularly since they hadn’t waited until Maggie and Tom had officially separated to do so. Still, the split had been somewhat clean and amicable, but only because Maggie refused to make a scene or act as though Tom’s affair had bothered her more than a broken nail.

She’d fought long and hard to become a professional, and that’s the only behavior she expected from herself.

The voices from the past that sometimes nagged at her, jeered at her now, pointing out her shortcomings and hanging them out to dry.

What’s wrong with you, Maggie? Stupid girl. Can’t you do anything right?

She’d grown up with insufferable criticism. Her mother’s third husband had been a drunk. An alcoholic, her clinical side corrected, although either diagnosis seemed to fit.

Oftentimes he’d said things that were cruel and untrue, but Maggie had proven him wrong. The valedictorian at Valley View High had gone on to receive a full academic scholarship at Radcliffe, then transferred to Harvard Medical School, where she’d graduated number two in her class. Dr. Margaret Templeton wasn’t stupid.

Or a failure.

And she hoped appearing at El Baile Elegante with Jake would show her colleagues that the failed marriage was merely a joint decision to end what wasn’t working. Maggie Templeton, they would realize, was doing just fine without a husband.

She glanced to her side and found the handsome cowboy perusing her with a crooked grin and a glimmer in his eyes.

Jake couldn’t help but admire the pretty doctor—in more ways than one. She’d achieved everything she’d set her mind to. And what’s more, the quiet teenage girl he’d once called Magpie had grown up to be a real head-turner, the kind of lady a man couldn’t help but notice.

Her hair, no longer the color of corn silk, had darkened to a golden blonde. And those caramel-colored eyes still held a tender heart, as well as a sadness few people could see.

Fifteen years ago, she’d been all knees and elbows, but she’d become womanly, with the kind of gentle curves a man liked to run his hands along all through the night.

“How are you, Magpie? Or should I call you doctor?”

“Just Maggie will do.” She adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse. “I sure appreciate your coming out here like this.”

For three long-ago summers, her grandma had shipped her off to Buckaroo Ranch, where Jake lived with his sister and tough-as-rawhide uncle. The sad-eyed bookworm had become the only friend he’d had growing up.

He gave her elbow a gentle squeeze. “I owe you one, remember?”

She’d protected him from a beating when he was sixteen by saying a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel’s had belonged to her. It hadn’t, of course. Maggie had always been a moral crusader when it came to alcohol, unlike Jake who’d thought drinking and smoking made him more manly and grown-up.

Because she was a paying guest at the ranch, his uncle had merely poured the whiskey onto the dirt, then threatened to send her packing if it ever happened again. Uncle Dave wouldn’t have been that easy on Jake.

And Jake hadn’t had any other place to go home to.

“Are you talking about that bottle of Jack Daniel’s?” she asked.

“My uncle would have given me the boot. He never did appreciate having to raise his brother’s ornery son.” Nor did he ever let Jake forget what a disappointment he was.

“You did have a rebellious streak, Jake.”

“Still do.”

She laughed. “I don’t doubt it. But your uncle wasn’t that bad. He never gave your sister a hard time.”

“Sharon was a straight-A student. Like you, Magpie.”

“Maybe you should have tried harder.”

“Maybe so, but I never liked school.” Any of them. He’d lost count of all the schools he’d attended in the early years. So by the time he was old enough to ride a bike, he began playing hooky every chance he got. Folks just thought he was a truant and a troublemaker, but Jake saw it as a means of self-preservation.

Chasing away the painful memories, he focused on Maggie. At one time, he’d actually had a crush on her, a sort of younger guy-older woman thing. He doubted that she’d ever picked up on it, though, since he’d been shy around girls back then.

He wasn’t shy anymore.

Of course, he didn’t allow women to get close enough to figure out what a good actor he was, or how he skated around the truth and kept them at a safe distance.

“You know,” Maggie said, “I was really sorry to hear about Sharon’s death.”

“Me, too.” Jake had loved his sister and would miss her. She’d been the only family he had left, and her death had been a senseless blow.

But in addition to grief, Sharon’s death had also saddled Jake with the dude ranch he’d always hated and thrust him into instant parenthood, something he knew nothing about. As much as he loved Kayla and Sam, he was still uneasy around his niece and nephew, still worried that he’d screw up something important in their lives.

Maggie stepped onto the escalator and turned to face him, as he got in line behind her. Their eyes met, and he caught a whiff of her floral scent. Something purple. Lilacs, he guessed. “Let’s talk about California.”

She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. After this weekend, I’m going to tie up some loose ends, then move my practice.”

He’d always been the kind to skip out on problems, not Maggie. But Jake was the last one in the world to say anything about leaving old memories behind. “How much time do we have before this hoopla?”

“Just enough time to go home and change clothes.”

Twenty minutes later, Maggie unlocked the door and let Jake into her home—a small, renovated apartment she’d temporarily moved into. The place was clean, with white walls and shell-colored carpet.

Another woman might have hung a brightly colored, artsy print on the wall, put a vase of flowers on the barren fireplace mantel, but Maggie hadn’t gone to the trouble.

What did it matter? She’d be moving to the West Coast soon and had no reason to decorate or entertain anyone.

Jake glanced at the stark white walls. “Nice place you have.”

“I suppose it needs a bit of color,” she said, wishing she’d put a little more effort into decorating.

“I’m used to motels. If the place is clean, all I need is a soft bed and somewhere to hang my hat.”

A bed. And a place to hang his hat.

Maggie’s senses tingled, and she struggled to recognize a bit of the teenage boy she used to know. She saw only brief glimpses.

Who was this man who would spend the weekend with her?

This is Jake, she reminded herself. Some things didn’t change. “Come on in. I’ll show you the guest room.”

Boots clicked upon the hardwood floors, chasing an odd sense of masculine presence over her like angel fingers strumming across harp strings.

She led him to the spare room down the hall, and as he dropped his bag on the guest bed, a flood of sexual awareness washed over her. Where had the short, gangly teenager gone?

“I’m wearing what I have on,” he said.

Her eyes swept over him again. Cowboy boots, denim pants and a suede jacket were a far cry from what the other men would be wearing, but on Jake they looked great.

He reached into his tote bag and removed a black bolo. “This is as black-tie as I get.”

She didn’t doubt that for a minute. If he didn’t mind walking into a formal affair dressed like a rebellious cowboy, she wouldn’t complain. She actually fancied herself on his arm. “You look fine to me.”

“I’m glad.” He slid her a lazy smile, one that made her pulse zip and skip like the stones he’d taught her how to skim across the surface of the old swimming hole.

“Well,” she said, “I’d better get dressed. If you’ll excuse me, I won’t be long.”

But getting dressed took much longer than she’d anticipated.

She’d wanted to look her best because El Baile Elegante was a big event, one all of her colleagues would be attending. An event at which she believed they would be watching her, checking to see if her professional demeanor would falter when Tom and Rhonda entered the banquet hall. Of course, she was nervous.

But for some reason, knowing that Jake was in the living room, waiting to escort her to the gala, had her nerves even more on edge. Jumpy. The butterflies in her stomach had grown to an angry swarm.

She fidgeted with her hair for ten minutes, trying to sweep it up in an elegant coiffure, but the silky strands wouldn’t stay put. She finally gave up and let it fall naturally to her shoulders. And even though she’d been putting on lipstick for years, her hands trembled and she had to reapply the lip liner three times before she was reasonably satisfied.

Maggie stood before the bathroom mirror and sighed. She’d done the best she could, under the circumstances. Now, if she could just hurry the evening along, get it over with and go back home, she’d be okay.

She entered the living room wearing a formal-length, black gown, with a scooped neckline in front. The other side plunged, revealing a V-shaped glimpse of her back. She had a strange urge to run down the hall and grab a wrap, something with which to cover herself, but it had been an unseasonably hot September day, and the evening promised to be humid and warm.

“Definitely worth the wait,” Jake said. His appreciative grin complimented her in a way Tom never had. It both pleased and unnerved her further.

“Thank you.”

As she fingered the strapless purse in her hands, his gaze locked on to hers. “What kind of fool would leave you?”

A part of her desperately needed to believe her ex had been a fool. “Tom Bradley, stockbroker extraordinaire.”

“Remind me never to let him invest any of my money.”

She smiled, grateful for the support, but too rational to believe she hadn’t erred, that she hadn’t somehow been at fault. She should have seen it coming, should have done something to prevent it. “I’m sure part of the blame was mine.”

“What part?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “My mom couldn’t seem to make a marriage work. I didn’t have much of an example.”

“What about TV reruns?” he asked, stepping closer. “Ward and June had a heck of a marriage.”

Maggie laughed. That’s what she liked about Jake. He had a way of making her troubles vanish, like he had all those years ago when they’d slipped away from the ranch and gone fishing in the creek. Or when they’d sneaked out late at night and gone for a hike.

She’d missed him, his fun-loving spirit and easy smile. “You’re right. The Cleavers had a perfect relationship. Now I realize what I did wrong.”

He grinned in that cocky way of his, only this time more grown-up, more provocative. “What did you do wrong?”

“I didn’t do the dishes while wearing pearls, a dress and heels.”

“Maybe you should have skipped the dress and just worn the heels and pearls. It would have made me come home.”

She swatted his arm and countered with a playful smile. “There’s more to a relationship than sex.”

“My best relationships have been based on great sex. What else is there?”

“Kids and picket fences.”

Jake slowly shook his head. “Babies are scary.”

“Not to Tom. About two years ago he started asking me about having a child. I wasn’t ready then. Children have very important needs, and a doctor who’s still paying off student loans doesn’t have time to spend stay-at-home, quality time with them.” She blew out a ragged breath. “Now, Rhonda Martin, another pediatrician in my office, is expecting his child.”

“So,” Jake said, settling into a more serious tone. “What are you going to do when this evening is over? Rhonda will still be expecting a baby, and you and Tom will still be divorced.”

Maggie unsnapped her purse and withdrew the car keys. “I’m going to start packing boxes for my move to California. A friend from medical school referred me to a respected pediatrician in Los Angeles who is retiring. I’m going to take over his practice.”

“Atta girl.” Jake chuckled. “Moving on has always worked for me.”

“That’s the way I see it, too,” she said, heading toward the front door. “I’ll be leaving day after tomorrow, even though I don’t start work for two more months.”

“Why so soon?”

“Because Rhonda and I work together and maintain a cordial business relationship at the office. For some reason, people feel inclined to invite me to share in the celebrations, parties and good wishes. And the truth is, I can’t stand the thought of receiving another invitation to a baby shower, even though I politely decline each one.”

He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “You’re being treated as a lifelong friend of the bride and groom?”

“I guess it’s my own fault for acting as though I didn’t care.” She sighed heavily. “It seemed like the professionally correct thing to do, when what I really wanted to do was jerk her by the stethoscope around her neck and give her a piece of my mind.”

“So you pretended it didn’t bother you?” He took her hand and gave it a slow, gentle squeeze. Her fingers warmed at his touch, her heart at his compassion. “You still have to be perfect, don’t you, Magpie?”

“I try to be the best I can be,” she said. “I don’t consider it a personal flaw or shortcoming.”

Jake grinned and shook his head. “Honey, I doubt a word or two from me is going to change anything.”

She appreciated the fact that he didn’t preach or patronize her. “Hard work and dedication are important to me.”

“I know.” Jake ran the knuckles of his hand along her cheek, sending a swirl of heat to her face, and no doubt, causing a blush to surface. “So what’s my role tonight?”

“Your role?” She didn’t mean to throw the question back in his lap, but she wasn’t sure what she expected, other than a friend to hold her hand. Maybe ask her to dance. “I don’t really know.”

“You want me to be an old friend? A new friend? A guy you’ve been dating?” He slid her a cocky, James Dean smile. “Your lover?”

She shook her head and laughed. “At first I’d just wanted an escort, a friend. Someone to lean on for my last hurrah.”

“And now?” he asked, blue eyes studying her intently. His musky scent closed in on her, sharpening her senses, making her keenly aware of his masculinity. A lot had happened to them in fifteen years. And at this very moment, she realized Jake had developed a sensuality he’d never had as a lanky teenager.

“You could act as though we’re dating, I suppose.”

“Have we made love?” His question startled her, excited her.

She gazed at him, unable to prevent her thoughts from drifting to Jake, lying in her bed, sheets draped low across his hips. Oh, for Pete’s sake. Her imagination had never taken sexual turns before tonight. “Of course not.”

“But we want to, right?”

Her heart zinged and pinged, and a heat settled low in her stomach. Make love to Jake? The vision of a naked cowboy in her bed hit her full force, and she struggled to regain control of her thoughts. He was role-playing and getting his act straight, and she was allowing her libido to interfere. “Well…”

“Okay,” he said. “I get it. We’ve kissed a time or two. And I want to kiss you again and see what flavor of breath mints you use. I want to hold you in my arms again, sway to a slow love song, feel your breasts against my chest. And I have a hankering to see how far things will go tonight. After the gala.”

For some reason, she felt as if she were in the midst of phone sex. His slow, Southern drawl poured over her, making her want to take an active role in his game. “I’d like people to think I’m happy and glad to be single.”

“We’ll make them wonder what we’ve got planned for later on.”

“I didn’t mean for this to be a chore,” she said, having second thoughts about role-playing with a man who made her mind drift to the bedroom. She’d been sleeping single in a king-size bed for too darn long, not that she had any inclination to change that. “If you just want to be my escort for the evening, it’s okay. In fact, that’s probably best.”

“Hey, I don’t mind helping out. That’s what friends are for.”

She clutched her purse against her heart and offered the handsome cowboy a shy smile. “I’ve never been too good at acting.”

He stepped behind her and placed a calloused hand on her lower back. The touch of his work-roughened palm and splayed fingers against her skin sent a jolt of heat to her core, and she had the strangest desire to feel those hands on her entire body.

“Let me do the acting,” he said. “Just follow my lead.”

“I’m not sure I can pull this off, Jake. Maybe we should just be friends.”

He opened the door for her. “Trust me, Magpie. It’ll be easy. You’ll see.”

She hoped his words rang true, but something told her this was going to be a wild, unpredictable evening.

And she didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.