“Mom?”
Dixie stopped in the bedroom doorway in the act of turning off the light. She’d just put her boys to bed and kissed them good-night, twice. “What is it, Ben?”
“Do you mind that they cut Dad up and took out his heart to save Wade?”
“No,” she said softly. “I don’t mind at all, honey, because I know it’s what your dad wanted. He wanted his organs to go to people who needed them after he was through with them.”
“I guess that ol’ taxicab saw to it that he was through with them, huh?” piped up Tate.
The resilience of children never ceased to amaze her. She was still shaky on the inside, and they were so matter-of-fact about it all. “It sure did, Tater. Now, you two need to get to sleep.”
“G’night, Mom.”
“’Night, Mom.”
“’Night-’night, sweethearts. I love you.”
Dixie turned off the light, stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed. She leaned her back against it and closed her eyes, saying a quick but heartfelt prayer of gratitude that the boys seemed to have understood about the transplant and accepted it without a qualm.
Pops had not only accepted it, he’d celebrated the news. All she had to do now was find her own way through the tangle of feelings inside herself to know how she felt about it.
But really, she asked herself, what was there to consider? Was she going to think less of Wade because he’d had a heart transplant? Or because the heart happened to be Jimmy Don’s? Thinking less of him for either reason—and neither was his fault—would be incredibly small and mean-spirited of her, and she had never been particularly small or mean-spirited, if she said so herself.
What, then, was left to consider? What had made her hide in her bedroom rather than return to the living room and their guest while the boys took their bath? What was it that nagged at the back of her mind?
Ah, yes. Cha-ching. The money. His wealth was harder to accept than Jimmy Don’s heart beating in his chest, because in the end it would be that wealth that took him away from her. He’d only come to see about the boys. He’d told her that. He said he’d stayed because of her, but that, she assumed, was more flattery than fact. He’d stayed until he could decide how to tell them who he was.
Now he’d told them. He had no more reason to stay. Now, she feared, he would leave. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the next day but soon. Very soon. All that money would pull him back to New York, to the luxuries, the life he was used to.
How had she let herself fall for a man who would not stay?
She didn’t know what to say to him, how to face him with this new self-knowledge. Yet, curling up in a ball on her bed was not a viable option. She’d never been a coward, never feared her own feelings before. She didn’t intend to start now.
With that little pep talk under her belt, she pushed away from her sons’ bedroom door, squared her shoulders and headed for the living room.
She rounded the corner and stopped short. “Where’s Wade?”
Pops stretched back in his recliner and shifted his weight. “Went home. Said to tell you good-night.”
“Oh.”
Pops eyed her carefully, correctly interpreting the disappointment hunching her shoulders. “Is that something you’re going to get used to? Him being gone?”
“I might as well.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “He’s done what he came to town to do. He won’t stick around long now.”
“Maybe,” he said oh, so casually, “all he needs is a reason to stay. Maybe,” he added, “he needs a little encouragement.”
“And maybe,” she said direly, “he can’t wait to shake the dust of this two-bit town off his Ferragamos.”
“His what?”
“Fancy shoes.”
“Only shoes I’ve seen him wear since he hit town are sneakers.”
“It was just an expression.”
“A telling one,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You. By golly, I think you’re a snob,” he declared.
Dixie was shocked. “Pops! Why would you say such a thing? I’m not a snob. I’m not in a position to turn my nose up at anybody.”
“But you just did. What do they call it? Reverse snobbery, that’s it.”
“Why, because I made a crack about Wade’s shoes? It was just an expression. I didn’t mean anything by it, for heaven’s sake.”
“Hmph. I think you don’t like him anymore, now that you found out he’s rich.”
“Don’t be silly, Pops. I’m just trying to be realistic. He didn’t come here to get involved with me or anyone else. He came to see about the boys, and he’s done that. Why are we having this conversation?”
“Beats the hell outta me. You could be right, anyway.”
“I’m what?” She cupped a hand to her ear. “I don’t think I heard that. What did you say?”
Pops chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I said you were right. Maybe.”
“Eureka! About what?”
“About Wade maybe leaving.”
Dixie threw her hands in the air. “I give up. Now you’re arguing my side?”
He shrugged. “It’s just that you didn’t give him a by-your-leave when you left with the boys. I think you hurt his feelings. Made him feel unwanted.”
“Oh, come on. It was bath time. He’s got thicker skin than that,” she protested.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said, doubt in his voice.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Dixie jumped up from the sofa and headed for the door. “I’m going out for a breath of air. Will you stay in the house until I get back?”
Pops smirked. “Only if you promise to stay gone all night.”
“Pops! I’m shocked. Truly shocked.” And more embarrassed than she remembered being in ages, she thought as she slammed out of the house.
The air was warm and humid, the sky dark. Here on her street, with the streetlight so near, only a few stars were visible.
She decided to walk. Not that she was going anyplace in particular. She just wanted to get out for a bit. Still, wherever she ended up would be nobody’s business. Having her car parked somewhere would only create questions, cause talk. No. Walking was the thing.
As long as no one saw her, she thought. They’d stop and ask if she was all right. Nobody walked in Tribute.
She took the residential streets.
Wade didn’t go straight home. He was too wound up. He needed to burn off some of the tension coiling in his gut. He walked to the high school and the track behind it. This time of night, the student athletes were finished with it for the day.
The track enclosed the high school football field. It sat in a flat bowl, with small hills surrounding it. The houses on those hills had backyards that looked down on the field. The cheap seats for football games. Cheap if you didn’t count the mortgage.
He stepped onto the track and started walking faster until, by the first turn, he was jogging. By the back stretch, he was running all-out. The dark didn’t bother him. There was enough light from the houses above to guide him. And he’d been running here several times during the past couple of weeks. He felt as if he could run it with his eyes closed, but he decided not to try it.
He ran until all he thought about was the pounding of his feet, the burning of his calves. The beating of his heart.
He did four laps, then slowed down and walked a fifth. Jeans and dress shirt, even short-sleeved, were not good running attire. He wasn’t normally sweating this much after four laps. And he wasn’t likely to cool down much, either, in this humidity. He looked forward to hitting the shower.
But when he turned up his sidewalk and finally looked up at his door, he forgot about the shower. He stopped cold and stared. His heart started racing as if he were back on the track. “Dixie? What are you doing here?”
Dixie rose from his stoop and brushed off the seat of her jeans. What was she doing here? She had no clue. Probably making a fool out of herself. But, as the saying went, no guts, no glory.
“I came to talk to you.”
He glanced around, up and down the street. “Where’s your car?”
“Worried about your reputation if I stay too late?”
“What?”
“Never mind. I took a page from your book and walked. You must have taken the long way, since I beat you.”
“I went to the track and ran.”
“Oh, well, it was none of my business, anyway. I shouldn’t have just dropped in on you this way. Shouldn’t have presumed—”
“Dixie.” His voice was softer than the air around her. His fingers touching her cheek sent a shiver of heat racing down her spine. “You can presume anything you want about me. Or you can just ask. Or drop by and sit on my stoop whenever you want.”
She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She stepped back far enough that his hand dropped away from her face. All she could think to say was, “Okay.”
“Come on in.” He pushed the door open and motioned her inside. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
She knew she should turn around and go home, but she found herself stepping through the door and into his apartment. “Not much” was an understatement. From what she could see, there were only two rooms, and they were small. There was a water stain on the ceiling. The furniture must have come with the place; she couldn’t imagine Wade purchasing the worn, outdated sofa and chair on purpose.
“You live here?”
“I do. Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got soft drinks, orange juice and water.”
“Wade, you live here? You live here?”
“Yes, Dixie, I live here.”
She turned in a slow circle. The walls seemed freshly painted, but that was the best she could say for the place. It was small and dark and depressing. “Why?”
“Because I got tired of staying at the motel. I needed a place to live. This was available. What’s your problem?”
He was sounding testy, and she couldn’t blame him. She was insulting his home, as it were. She just couldn’t help it. “With all your money, why are you living in this dump?”
“Ah, that’s it. I’m rich, so this is beneath me.”
She grimaced. “When you put it like that it sounds stupid.” Had Pops been right? Was she a snob? “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. If I’d come here last week, I wouldn’t have thought a thing about it. Now I’ve offended you and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
With a hand to her lower back, he took her farther into the room so he could close the door. That touch felt…intimate. Too intimate. It made her want to turn into him and wrap herself in his arms.
“If that was the last thing you wanted, what was the first?”
Dixie turned to face him. She had to get her brain working again. “I’m sorry. What?”
He peered at her closely. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Oh, and wasn’t that a stupid question. She was acting like a zombie. With attention deficit disorder.
“Because you don’t seem like yourself. What I said tonight is no more than we talked about last night. Was there something there that bothered you? And you never did say if you wanted anything to drink.”
“I’ll have a soda. And no, nothing bothered me any more tonight than it did last night. I want to thank you for how you handled things with the boys, thank you for what you gave them of their father.”
“Dixie.” He trailed his fingers across her cheek, as he’d done outside on the stoop.
Her knees turned to jelly.
“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”
He lowered his hand and moved the eight feet or so from the front door to the refrigerator in his kitchen and took out two cans. “Do you want it in a glass with ice?”
“No. Thanks. The can is fine.”
“Okay, then.” He handed her the can, then took her other hand in his. “Come sit down and talk to me.” He led her to the sofa, then sat in the chair across from her.
When he released her, the heat from his touch stayed in her hand. She was grateful she wasn’t trembling on the outside, the way she was on the inside.
“Not that I’m not glad you’re here,” he said. “But, why, exactly, are you here, Dix?”
Dix. That was the second time he’d called her that. She liked it. She found it odd that no one had ever called her that before.
The smile she gave him felt strained. “I’m not sure. I came either to tell you goodbye or beg you to stay.”
He gave a slight jerk, or a flinch, maybe. She couldn’t tell. “Am I going somewhere?” he asked.
She took a sip and leaned back on the sofa. “I don’t see any reason for you to stay now.” When she slowly raised her gaze, she ran smack into his.
“I do.” He held her gaze, trapped her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat refused to work. She cleared it, then tried again. “You do what?”
He took a sip from his can without releasing her gaze. “See a reason to stay. I’m looking at it.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t swallow. It was becoming a habit around him, she thought inanely. “What’s a woman supposed to say to a line like that?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “If you think it’s just a line, then you obviously don’t believe me.”
They stared at each other for a long time, then finally Wade spoke. “All right, I’ll go first. Right now I have no logical reason to stay in town. I can create one. A business opportunity has opened up here that I’d like to get my hands on. It would mean I’d be living here, in Tribute.”
Dixie’s heart raced. It soared. “What business?”
He shook his head. “I’m not ready to say, because as legitimate and promising and practical as that business would be, it’s still only business. It wouldn’t be the real reason I’d stay.”
“It wouldn’t?”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
Dixie started shaking. “Say what?”
“That I want to stay for you. I want you to want me to stay. I love you, Dixie. I know this is way too fast. We barely know each other. But for me, that doesn’t seem to matter. If you say there’s no chance for us, I’ll pack up and go. But if you think—”
Dixie slammed her drink can onto the coffee table, leaped over the table and into Wade’s arms. “Don’t you dare,” she cried, covering his face with kisses. “Don’t you dare leave.”
Wade squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe. “Thank God.”
“I love you, I love you, I want you to stay.” She held on tight and kissed him frantically, as if he were fading away in her arms.
“I didn’t want to leave.” He kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck. “But I didn’t think I could stand to stay if you didn’t want me.”
“Not want you? I’ve been pining away for you for days.”
He grinned down at her. “We can’t have that. Here. Are you feeling faint?” He swept her up in his arms. His brow raised in question. “Maybe you need to lie down.”
“Yes,” she told him, her heart and her confidence swelling. “I most definitely need to lie down. But not alone. I’m so tired of alone.”
He carried her into his small bedroom and stood her beside the bed, then turned on the bedside lamp. “Ah, Dix.” He cupped her face gently in both hands and looked into her eyes. “You don’t ever have to lie down alone again.”
Something—everything—inside Dixie stilled. “Ever?”
“Not if you marry me.”
After she blinked to clear her vision, and swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, Dixie placed her hand over his heart and felt the beating there. “I need to know that it’s you asking me, you who feels this way, that this isn’t some trick of your cellular memory.”
“That’s my heart you feel beating, and I’ve got the scar to prove it. What I thought or felt from cellular memory was for the boys. I never had a thought about you until I saw you that day I walked into the diner. This is all me, Dixie. Wade Harrison loves Dixie McCormick, and Wade Harrison loves her sons and Pops. Wade Harrison wants to marry all of you. As long as you’re sure that you love me, and not just that heart you feel pounding away in there.”
“Oh, it’s you I love,” she assured him. “If I was mixing you up with Jimmy Don, we’d already be divorced.”
“That was fast. I think I missed our wedding. I know I missed our wedding night.”
Dixie smiled and pulled him close, bumping her hips against his. “Why don’t we see if we can do something about that?” She stepped back and reached to pull her T-shirt off over her head, but Wade stopped her.
“Let me.”
Dixie shivered.
“Cold?”
She tried to laugh. “I think I’m nervous. I haven’t done this in a while. A long while.”
He gently raised her T-shirt and pulled it off. He tossed it to the floor. “Neither have I, but they say you never forget how. Look at you. I knew you’d be beautiful.”
And she was, he thought. She was trim and tight, her muscles toned from keeping up with two boys, an old man, a business and hundreds of customers. His hand wasn’t quite steady when he reached for the snap on her jeans.
She pushed his hands away. “My turn.” She unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers fumbled the job a couple of times, and it warmed him all the way through.
They stood there in the lamplight beside the bed, two people, both nervous, both eager, cherishing each other and the new love they’d found. When she opened his shirt and saw the long, thick scar down his chest, she nearly wept.
“I’m so sorry they had to do this to you. But I’m so grateful, too.” She placed her hand over his heart and felt the strong, steady beat. “It’s a good heart, for a good man.”
Wade felt her words seep clear into his bones.
They finished undressing each other, and he took her down onto the bed, where he braced himself above her on his forearms. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She met his gaze squarely, her heart, and her voice, filled with certainty. “Yes.” She entwined her arms around his neck and pulled his lips toward hers. And finally…finally, they kissed.
Oh, he was sweet. Warm and darkly flavored, the way a man should be. She savored him with her lips and tongue, giving him all she had, all she was, trying to tell him with her kiss all the feelings she had for him but couldn’t express in words.
He broke away from her mouth to taste her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. The valley between her breasts. He teased her, kissing his way up one slope, down another, but never, never right on the tip, where she craved it. He trailed his tongue down to her navel, and lower. Then over the juncture of one thigh, then the other.
Someone was making small moaning sounds, and she was stunned to realize it was her. Suddenly she’d had all the torturous pleasure she could stand without returning the favor. She pushed Wade over and straddled his hips.
“My turn,” she whispered. Then she kissed him, from head to toe. She started at his brow and moved on to his cheeks, his nose, but skipped his mouth. She might not be able to move on from there, and she didn’t want to miss any part of him.
His skin was salty, his cheeks rough with five-o’clock shadow. His throat, such a strong throat. And sensitive, if his sharp intake of breath meant anything.
It was the scar she was after. She wanted to kiss it, somehow make it better. A smooth strip down the middle of his glorious chest.
Wade stayed as still as he could while she kissed his scar. The last woman who’d seen it, more than a year ago now, had turned up her nose and called it ugly. He’d put his shirt back on and taken her home. Hadn’t seen her since. Any tiny sting left over from that episode melted away in the tender heat of Dixie’s ministrations. She wasn’t merely kissing it, she was tasting it with her tongue and her lips. Every ounce of blood in his body rushed to his groin.
Who would have thought a scar could become an erogenous zone?
Certainly not him, because thought was not possible as she reached the end of the scar and dipped her tongue into his navel. If she took that sweet, hot mouth of hers any farther down…
She didn’t. She kissed her way back up his chest. She was kinder to him than he’d been to her, for she found his nipples and let her mouth play. Wade nearly reared off the bed, so exquisite was the sensation. By the time she moved to the second nipple, he was breathing hard and fast, and blood and heat pounded through his groin and he was ready to explode.
He rolled and took her with him until she lay beneath him and he lay in the cradle of her thighs. “This,” he managed between clenched teeth. “This is where I belong. Right here, with you.”
“Yes,” she whispered fiercely, her hips rising to meet his. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Something inside them snapped. He locked his mouth on hers and they devoured each other. Tongues danced, lips and teeth nipped. Hands grasped, slipped on sweat-slicked skin. Hips thrust, hers to his, his to hers. Heat and tempo built until Dixie thought there was simply no more to feel. But she was wrong.
Wade trailed one hand along her hip, over, down, between her thighs. When he touched her, her back arched off the bed. She tried to bite back the cry of stunned pleasure. Too tame a word, pleasure, for what raced through her.
“Not without you,” she moaned. “Please, I don’t want to go without you.”
“You won’t. I’m with you all the way.” He dipped a finger inside, felt her readiness to accept him. Settling his hips in place, he nudged at her opening. Then he was inside her, and nothing had ever felt so right. “Are you with me?”
She raised her knees to take him in deeper. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
He began to move, and she moved with him. Long, slow thrusts at first that quickly sped to a breathless pace as they chased that first explosion together. And when it happened, Dixie called out his name, and he followed her off the edge of the world.
Wade was the first to stir. When his mind started functioning again, he pressed his lips to Dixie’s neck and worried that he might be crushing her. He shifted his weight, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and made a small sound of protest.
He settled his hips, but kept his upper body weight braced on his forearms.
“I suppose,” he said lazily, “since we’ve already agreed to get married, and now we’ve made love, it’s probably a little late to concern ourselves with birth control.”
Dixie meant to laugh pleasantly. But she was so sated, she didn’t have the strength. It came out as a slight snicker. “You think?” she said. Then she patted his backside. “Not to worry. I’m on the pill.”
He looked down at her, all tousled and sleepy-eyed, and smiled.
“You look pleased with yourself,” she said.
“I’m pleased with both of us. I’m pleased with the whole wide world. I’m afraid that any minute I might burst out in song, and believe me, I don’t have the voice for it. It’ll scare you to death, and you’ll call off the wedding. Then we’ll discover that you got pregnant tonight, and the whole town will be talking about that unwed pregnant woman who slings hash at the diner.”
Dixie heard his attempt at a Texas drawl and caught the gist of what he was saying and burst out laughing.
“What? You don’t like my accent?”
“I’m trying to picture how to explain being pregnant and unmarried to Pops and the boys.”
“Do you want to get pregnant?” He wasn’t laughing now.
Suddenly neither was she. “Maybe. I’ve always wanted more children, but had pretty much decided that wasn’t going to happen. But I’m not in a hurry. We’ve got time to decide. If you don’t want anymore kids, I can live with that.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “And if I want a dozen?”
“Then you better gather up several more wives, because I’m not giving you a dozen, unless they start coming in big batches.”
“Like puppies?”
“That’s right. A litter. Then we’d have a need for all that money of yours.”
He stroked his finger down her nose. “Does my money really bother you so much?”
She lowered her gaze and combed her fingers through the hair on his chest. “I don’t know. I don’t know how much money you have. I’ve never had more than enough to get by on.” Her eyes flew open. “You have to believe that I’m not after your money. Tell me you believe that.”
“Of course I believe it. I’m not worried about that.”
“I’ll sign any prenup you want, I swear.”
Wade smiled. “My father will think that’s great. My mother and sisters will roll their eyes and think you have no sense, that you should have gotten me to guarantee specific funds to you if we break up, and I should support your children— What?”
“Your parents? Oh my God. What are they going to say about all of this?”
“This? You and me? They’ll look at me and say, ‘it’s about damn time.’ The thing they’re going to raise their collective Harrison eyebrows at is the paper.”
“What paper?”
“Well.” He rolled off her and bunched up the pillows. They snuggled up side by side and he told her his plan. “You’ve heard that Bill Gray is retiring and selling the paper.”
“No. I hadn’t heard.”
“You’ve been in the kitchen. You miss the good stuff in there.”
“Don’t I know it. Tomorrow I’m free! But what about the paper?”
“I’m going to make him an offer.”
“You? A small-town newspaper?”
“Don’t scoff at small-town newspapers. The entire Harrison Corporation and our personal family fortune began when my great-great-grandfather started a small-town weekly in Montana. I want to take the Tribute Banner and see what I can do with it. I want to edit it myself, manage it myself, the whole works. My father and sisters are going to be pea green with envy. My mother is going think I’m out of my mind, and then she’s going to quietly have a stroke.”
“Maybe you should talk it over with your family before you commit yourself to it.”
“And maybe I shouldn’t. This is something I want to do. I want to prove to myself that I can. I want to contribute something to this town. I want to live here, with you and our children—Ben and Tate and any others we might have—and Pops.”
“Have you talked to Bill Gray yet?” she asked.
“No. Tomorrow morning. I can transfer some funds to the bank here.”
“I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you coming.”
“I wouldn’t replace any staff at the paper right off. Leave everything in place and see how it goes for a while. I’d just slip into Gray’s place at first, take over the editorial, the managing, editing, whatever else he does. But that’s for tomorrow. I guess you left Pops in charge at the house?”
“Yes, and I better be getting back before he sends the hounds out to find me.”
“Aha. You don’t have any hounds,” he pointed out. “Which reminds me that I’ve always wanted a dog, so I’ll probably be getting one, unless you have strong objections, in which case, we can negotiate.”
She grinned. “A dog, huh? Anything else?”
“Guitar lessons. I always wanted to learn to play.”
She laughed. “You can become the next Willie Nelson. Anything else?”
“Just one.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “When do you want to get married?”
Dixie laughed and sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.
“Going shy on me?”
“Why, Mr. Harrison, I barely know you.”
Wade raised his brow. “Oh, I think you know me better than just about anyone else I can name.” He grinned, pulling the sheet from her grasp. “It was spoiling my view. About that wedding date?”
“I don’t have a clue,” she said honestly. “Everything’s happened so fast. First we have to tell our families.”
“My family’s first question is going to be, ‘When?’”
“Hmm. You’re right. It would be easier all around if we did it after the boys start back to school. That way, if we decide to take off a few days on a honeymoon, they can stay with classmates and some other poor woman won’t have to watch them all day while they’re in school. Business is lighter at the diner, then, too. September. The middle of the month?”
“Whenever you say. I’ll be there. Do you want to do it up big, or fly to Vegas and get married in the Love Me Tender Wedding Chapel by an Elvis impersonator?”
“You made that up. Love Me Tender Wedding Chapel?”
He shrugged and smiled. “Whatever. Big, small or elope?”
“Won’t your parents expect you to have a big wedding in New York?”
“No. They’ll expect me to make my bride happy.”
“Oh. Well, then. That’s easy. Kiss me.”
He did. Thoroughly. It was two in the morning before he walked her home.
Pops saw them coming up the drive, hand in hand. He saw the way they stopped, looked at each other. The way they kissed. His vision blurred.
“You can rest easy, Jimmy Don. You done good.”