The Tribute Read online

  She wiped up the vomit on the floor, picked up all the dirty linens and left her father to sleep. She hadn’t expected Brett to be standing there in the hallway. She’d hoped he would be there and at the same time she’d hoped he wouldn’t be there. Her heart warred with her head.

  Having him assist her with her father…well that was a blessing, but knowing that he saw everything wasn’t.

  “Brett, I didn’t expect you to be up here.”

  He shuffled his feet and sighed. “I’m sorry. Your dog led me upstairs.”

  She glanced down at Ug, now sitting peacefully beside Brett’s boots. The dog’s tongue hung out and he looked at her as if to say, “What? I did the right thing.”

  “Well, um, thank you for helping. My father’s not feeling well and he fell out of bed. I really appreciate you helping me get him back into the bed.” She reached out and brushed his wounded shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Nah, it’s okay. It’s healing very well. I had a good doctor.”

  She smiled weakly and held up the soiled linens. “I need to rinse these out. Can you give me about ten minutes and I’ll meet you in the waiting room?”

  “Do you want some help?”

  “Oh, no, no. That’s okay. I can do it.” He didn’t need to be cleaning up her father’s vomit. It was bad enough he could probably smell it.

  Brett cleared his throat. “I’ve had my fair share of experiences with Trevor after a night of drink.”

  There went the pretense of her father being sick. She’d known, of course, that Brett would figure out what was going on. His brother Trevor did have a tendency to drink quite a bit.

  “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m going to say no. There are certain things I just don’t want help with, do you understand?”

  “Sure, I understand.”

  Alex preceded Brett down the stairs, following Ug’s wagging tail. When they reached the bottom, he headed for the waiting room and she headed to the kitchen to get out the washtub and put everything to soak in some hot water and soap.

  The few minutes that it took her to get the laundry situated gave her the opportunity to compose herself. The embarrassment passed, as did the discomfort. Since it was no secret that her father drank, certainly it was no secret that he suffered the ailments of those who over imbibed.

  She twisted her hair up into a bun, belatedly realizing it was hanging to her shoulders. Brett sure did get an eyeful. She ran upstairs and put on a clean blouse, washed her hands again, and then went downstairs to Brett. Taking a deep breath, she strode into the waiting room to face him. Within hours, he’d be gone and her constant state of edginess with him.

  He sat with his hat on his lap and sympathy shining in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Why don’t we go into the examining room and I’ll take a look. I hope you didn’t rip out a stitch helping me.”

  “Nah. It pinched a bit, but it’s not bleeding.”

  That was certainly true. No blood appeared on the light brown shirt he sported. Kincaid must’ve brought by some clothes. Of course, she had to notice he wore his sinfully tight denims again. The man had nothing else to wear? Even at the emotional low point or perhaps because of it, they caught Alex’s attention. She didn’t want to contemplate what that meant. Instead, she again focused on being a physician and helping her patient.

  When Kincaid had brought Brett in, and she’d taken off his shirt, she didn’t pay attention to anything else. It was too important to focus on the wound and saving his life. Being alone with him now was quite different, especially after the kiss.

  “I want to recheck it before you leave, just to be sure you didn’t re-injure yourself.” She walked into the examining room with Brett on her heels.

  He sat on the examining table and Alex had difficulty swallowing when he removed his shirt. The expanse of flesh and muscle was a banquet of beauty. She drank it in like a starving woman. The boy’s body she had known evolved into an amazingly sexy man. Perfectly formed shoulders, lightly furred chest with whorls of brown hair tapering down toward his belly. She felt embarrassed to note that his bellybutton pressed inward instead of outward. Her finger itched to touch it.

  The white bandage on his right shoulder stood out in contrast to the beautiful skin that covered him. She concentrated on untying the bandage without hurting him, twitching when her hands brushed against the hair on his chest.

  What was wrong with her? She’d had hundreds and hundreds of patients, probably a thousand in the last ten years. Here she was acting like a complete idiot because it was Brett Malloy on her table. She didn’t ever remember having him as a patient before, several of the other Malloys for certain, but never him.

  Alex wasn’t sure if he noticed her perusal and even if he did, he was too polite to mention it, though he probably should have. A doctor shouldn’t be lusting after her patient. She recognized it for what it was—

  lust. Her past transgressions, or possibly mistakes, catching up with her.

  She finally fumbled around enough to get the bandage undone.

  “How does it look?” Brett asked.

  Alex examined the wound carefully, surprised and pleased at how good it looked. “It looks wonderful, with no sign of infection. You’re an amazing healer, Brett.”

  Her fingertips lightly skimmed his skin. He sucked in a breath. Alex’s skin tingled from the contact.

  “How long do I keep the bandage on?”

  Alex started, a bit chagrined that she’d been daydreaming as she touched his shoulder. “Keep the bandage on a few more days to keep the dirt out. I’ll give you more.”

  “You don’t have to do that. We’ve still got plenty at the ranch.”

  “I don’t want you to use up your supply. You need to have some on hand for anything else that happens.” Her mouth twitched, wanting to tease him just a bit. “After all, the roof might attack you again.”

  “I plan to look up next time.”

  As Alex wrapped the bandage around his shoulder, she couldn’t help but ask, “How is it that you came to be under the wood as it fell off the roof? Mr. Kincaid said he warned you but apparently you didn’t hear him.”

  “Ah.” Brett cleared his throat and fidgeted a bit with the shirt in his left hand. “I don’t remember. It all happened so fast.”

  Alex knew a fib when she heard one, but didn’t call him on it. He must have had his reasons. As she tied off the bandage, she asked, “Do you need some help putting your shirt on?”

  Normally saying that wouldn’t have been any kind of issue, but when one brown eyebrow arched at the question, Alex’s body heated.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex almost didn’t recognize her voice, low, a little raspy, and dammit, needy.

  Suddenly the urge to feel him, to feel alive, overwhelmed her. At that moment, all she wanted to do was feel something good, no matter if it was right or wrong. Alex decided it was time to start living for herself and her needs. She followed the urge to simply feel. Later she’d talk to herself about falling for the same man twice in a lifetime and whether or not it was a good idea. With a deep breath, she threw caution to the wind and jumped in with both feet.

  Alex took his face in her hands and lowered her mouth to his. Soft kisses, her lips gently moved against his. Once. Twice. He felt rigid against her, unyielding.

  Alex had other ideas. Her tongue swiped his lips, tickling until he opened his mouth. The hot, delicious feeling of kissing him deeply swept through her, raising goose bumps and nipples harder than diamonds.

  “Alex,” he gasped out between kisses. “What are you doing?”

  “Shut up, Malloy.” She kissed her way across his jaw to his neck. A moan rose up in her throat as she sucked the salty skin, the arousal building inside her like steam. It needed an escape, a release. It had been so long since she’d had one.

  “Make love to me, Brett.” It wasn’t a question. Before he could prote
st, she unbuttoned her shirt and took it off, followed quickly by her skirt and chemise. As she stood in her stockings, his eyes drank her in, feasting on her flesh. Alex felt her cheeks redden, but she didn’t dare cover herself. This is what she wanted, come hell or high water.

  She took his left hand and placed it on her breast. The feeling of the callused palm against her nipple made her gasp. Soon he cupped both her breasts, kneading and tweaking while she continued to kiss him breathless.

  “Here?” The one word he was able to get out sounded like a cross between a bark and a groan.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast and Alex forgot the question. It didn’t matter that the front door wasn’t locked. The examining room door was closed and to hell with anyone who interrupted them. She was beyond caring. All she wanted was right there in her arms.

  Brett stood and shed the rest of his clothes. His erection stood proud between his legs, larger and hungrier than she expected, and oh so beautiful. She cupped him, loving the feel of satin and steel, and the delightful fur on his balls. Perfectly proportioned, Brett put other men to shame.

  “God…Alex…I…” He could barely speak between gasps.

  Alex climbed up on the table and spread her legs. “Here. Now.”

  He stepped closer and when his skin touched hers, she closed her eyes as the euphoria of being naked with Brett overwhelmed her. Then his cock touched her moist pussy.

  “Please.” Alex couldn’t order anymore, she could only ask. The need was so great, she felt like an animal at its basest level with her mate.

  His mouth descended to her breast and the tip of his hardness pushed inside her. She bit her lip almost bloody to avoid crying out. So good. So good. As he pushed in further, his teeth closed around her nipple and she convulsed, nearly pushed over the edge to orgasm.

  Alex reeled herself back in and focused on her breath. Pulling oxygen into her bloodstream, feeling her body stretch to accommodate Brett. Ah, yes, yes.

  He grasped her hips and thrust forward, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. This time she did cry out. He filled her completely, body and soul. His rhythm was pure Brett, slow and steady. Deeper, then shallow, then deeper again. Designed to drive her mad. She scratched at his back, desperate to keep him within her, making the magic between them that echoed with tingles of pure heat.

  “Faster, Brett,” she urged, pulling at his firm behind.

  “Patience, good doctor.” He sucked at her neck, then bit lightly.

  “Nope. Not this time.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked on tight. Embedded deep within her, he pulsed and Alex knew he was close to his release.

  She clenched her muscles and rocked. That was all she needed to do. Brett took off like a shooting star, driving into her again and again. She held on for the ride as the lights exploded around her, bringing her to the precipice of pleasure she hadn’t experienced in twelve years.

  The sky crashed down around her and joy entered her heart. Alex gave herself over and journeyed with Brett to a place only together they could reach.

  ———

  Stunned. The only word that applied to how Brett felt. Completely stunned. After leaving Alex, he didn’t remember mounting his horse or riding down the street. But sure enough, he found himself halfway home and couldn’t recall leaving Cheshire.

  The fact that Alex had seduced him amazed him. Then the realization that she wasn’t angry any longer. Followed by the most intense orgasm of his life. His goddamn knees still shook, not to mention the tightness in his balls. He’d never expected it. Ever. The single fumbling experience with her so long ago hadn’t prepared him for this incredible connection. That wasn’t a whore’s fake enjoyment he’d witnessed. No sir. She’d been as pleasured as he’d been.

  Hope bloomed in his chest as elation zipped through him. Perhaps the door had opened enough for him to get his foot in. Alex had always been his perfect match. The twelve years apart had only solidified that. She resided deep within his heart, his soul.

  A certain amount of manly pride went with that fact. However, he remembered that he’d just messed around with Alex in her examining room. Naked, sweaty intense sex that he’d be feeling for the next two days.

  Goddamn. Where had his head gone? Right to his dick, of course. He could have stopped her. No question there. What man let a respectable woman pull him into bed, or rather her examining table, especially when he’s trying to woo her into marriage? Alex was the kind of woman a man married, not fucked. Of course that hadn’t stopped him twelve years ago, but then he’d planned on marrying her.

  Well, he once again planned on marrying her, didn’t he?

  Brett shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Time to stop thinking with his dick. Alex messed with his equilibrium too much.

  By the time he got back to the Square One it was full dark. A lantern burned in the barn. They hadn’t made much of a dent in the repairs on the barn, but the house was starting to shape up although they still needed furniture.

  Interesting that there was a light in the barn and not the house. He dismounted some distance away and approached the barn on foot. The night was hotter than usual, with a ghost of the August heat that had roasted the day. He didn’t make a sound as he approached the door. He heard the low murmur of voices coming from within.

  One of them he recognized as Kincaid, the other unknown. Kincaid and Brett had repaired the door, so he couldn’t peer in. Instead, he crept closer and listened, every instinct at the ready.

  “We expect you to work. There aren’t any lazy asses on this ranch. Is that understood?” Kincaid said, followed by a scrape and a grunt.

  “Yessir. I surely do understand that,” the other voice replied, a young man by the sound. “I ain’t looking for no handout. I told you that. I’m looking for honest work.”

  Scrape, grunt, thud.

  “That’s probably about as clean as we’re going to get that stall. Shouldn’t be too cold tonight. It’s warmer than it has been. We don’t have any extra blankets.”

  A shovel thumped on the ground.

  “I understand. I got a bedroll. It’s done me just fine. It’ll keep doing.”

  “The owner, Mr. Malloy, he should be here soon. I don’t expect his business in town will take too much longer.”

  Brett heard a thread of amusement hidden in Kincaid’s words. Dammit. Probably knew exactly what was going to happen between Brett and Alex. It sounded as if a drifter had come by and Kincaid had hired him or at least offered him a place to sleep for the night. Nothing sinister. Something he would have done himself.

  Brett opened the barn door. The young man started as if he was going to run, and then stopped himself.

  “There you are. Welcome back.” Kincaid’s right eyebrow arched. “Have a good visit with the doc?”

  “Shut up, Kincaid,” Brett growled.

  Kincaid smothered a chuckle. “Um, this is Mason. He came by today and tried to help himself to some water and some of our food.”

  Now that was a different story. If he wasn’t above thieving, why the hell was Kincaid giving him hospitality? The boy in question was probably in his early teens, filthy hair, but beneath it he looked to be blond. He had brown eyes, and a slight build. His clothes had definitely seen better days. Brown homespun pants topped by what appeared to be a blue shirt, which had long since faded, likely from repeated washings or in his case, no washings. At least not anytime in the last two years.

  The boy’s gaze constantly scanned around the barn as if he expected some sort of surprise to leap out at him from the shadows.

  Brett glanced at Kincaid. “Can I talk to you alone?”

  Kincaid nodded. “Set your gear there,” he told the boy. “Get settled in. We’ll be right back.”

  The boy’s gaze was glued on Brett. When he and Kincaid stepped out of the barn, Brett walked ten feet away before speaking.

  “Why the hell did you offer a thief a night in the barn? And it sounded like you were going to hire him?�
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  Kincaid shrugged. “The only reason he took the food was because he was hungry. If he’d come by when we were here, we would have given him food.”

  “That doesn’t matter. That boy is a thief.” Brett didn’t want to judge the boy, but anybody taking from him set his slumbering temper off.

  “He steals because he has to. Reminds me a lot of me actually. I’ve been so hungry I’ve eaten bugs. Been without a home, a family, money. I’ve been with nothing, nothing but the clothes on my back.”

  “So you want me to trust this boy because he reminds you of yourself? That’s not a very good reason.” In fact, Brett didn’t like it at all.

  His hackles stood at attention. Anything out of the ordinary, anything that didn’t fit was always suspicious to Brett.

  “You want to throw that kid out into the night? Did you look at him? I could practically see through his clothes. That showed me how skinny that boy is. You could count his ribs. I also saw some recent bruises. Now, from what I know of you Malloys, charity and a chance is something you’re always willing to give.” Kincaid’s face filled with remembered anger and desperation.

  It went against Brett’s better judgment, his instincts, and everything else, but he understood Kincaid’s point. Everybody deserved a chance. Even a second chance if the first one didn’t work out.

  “If he steals anything, I’ll have no trouble handing him over to our sheriff, Jim. If he kills me, I’m going to come back and haunt you.”

  Kincaid chuckled. “Sometimes I think there’s a sense of humor underneath all that quiet.”

  Brett scoffed. “Don’t believe it.”

  Kincaid’s grin shone in the darkness. “Just keep telling yourself that. We’ll loosen you up eventually.”

  By the time they stepped back into the barn, the boy had spread his bedroll in the one stall that had been cleaned. Well somewhat cleaned. At least there weren’t any holes in the wood, or mouse shit, or raccoons hanging around.