Welcome Home, Bobby Winslow Page 7
“Well, I don’t think I said that exactly. If you ever want to talk, I’m here—” Racy cut her words short when they found Jackie, one of the assistant managers, waiting in the hall. “Hey, are you looking for me?”
“Your hubby said I could find you here. Can I drag you to the kitchen for a minicrisis?”
Racy headed off with her employee and Leeann walked back to the bar’s main area. She paused when she saw that her friends still weren’t back at the table and even Gage had disappeared. That left the racing champion holding court with about a half-dozen people. Striding up to them, she reached for the freshly poured margarita.
“No, I’m far from retirement,” Bobby boasted, hoisting an icy beer in salute. “I’ve still got my eye on a few more prizes, including the all-around championship again.”
“That new upstart driver you got on your team, Doug LeDoux, he’s just a kid,” a man standing nearby said. “But he’s pulled off a few impressive finishes.”
“That kid is twenty-three,” Bobby replied with a grin. “Which, come to think of it, isn’t too far from when I started. But yeah, he’s fitting into the program real well.”
“But your injuries?” one of the other fans asked. “They sounded really bad on the news—”
“Nothing to worry about,” Bobby cut the second man off, the smile on his face slipping just a bit. “I’ll be back behind the wheel in no time at all.”
Leeann turned to look out at the dance floor, watching Justin and Gina as they showed Dean the fine art of line dancing. She was silently bewildered by every word coming from Bobby’s mouth.
He wasn’t fine. He could barely keep himself upright when she’d first seen him yesterday and earlier today he’d had a death grip on his cane.
Knock it off! The command was unvoiced, but just as powerful. None of this is any of your business!
Everyone around him seemed very happy with his assurances and soon drifted away. That left the two of them standing at the booth and Leeann realized she’d missed the opportunity to walk away while he’d been preoccupied with his adoring public.
“Well, I guess we’re stuck here holding on to the table, just like old times—unless you’re planning on leaving again.”
Was that a dig?
She tried to read the expression on his face, but the bar’s low lighting and the Stetson he wore made it difficult. Then he backed up a step, almost stumbled and sank to the cushioned seat on one side of the booth, his hand gripping the table.
“Should I—do you want me to get Dean?”
He jerked his head up and looked at her. “What the hell for?”
Sighing, she sat across from him and placed her drink on the table. Conscious of the loud country music and that they were probably the subject of many curious stares, she leaned forward, waiting for him to follow her lead.
When he did, he also bumped up the brim of his Stetson and offered one of his famous Winslow smiles, but she could see the deep lines etched around his mouth and the firm set of his clenched jaw.
“Why are you lying to those people?” Leeann asked.
Bobby’s smile stayed in place, but his fingers tightened around his beer bottle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Bobby, you’re a walking wall of pain. Where is that cane you used earlier today? Should you even be on your feet right now?”
“I’m not on my feet.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “You know what I mean. I saw your exercise room today, remember? Besides the all-in-one home gym and a complete set of free weights, there’s also a fancy therapy table, parallel bars and a piece of equipment Dean called a Hydrocollator Heating Unit. Not your typical workout equipment.”
He took a long draw from his beer. “So? Like everything else in my place, I wanted it to be impressive.”
Leeann ignored the way he threw the word she’d used to describe his house back at her and forged ahead. “Dean told me you should’ve stayed in that rehab center for another month.”
His smile disappeared as he set his drink down. “Zip talks too much.”
“He also said the only reason you were released was because you agreed to follow a strict program that I’m sure doesn’t include a lot of walking, never mind alcohol or making promises you can’t keep—like going back on the racing circuit.”
“Zip is my physical therapist and my best friend.” Bobby cut her off, his voice a hard whisper. “He’s not my keeper and he won’t be the one who decides when I get back behind the wheel of my race car. And neither will you.”
Leeann ignored the way her heart clenched at those last words. But if he was going to peg her as a nosy busy-body, she might as well go for the whole shebang. “You can’t even drive a regular car yet because of the damage to your legs and spine. What makes you think you will ever race professionally again?”
“What makes you think it’s any of your business?”
His harsh tone and the irritation that darkened his blue eyes to near black told her she’d gone too far. Again.
“It’s not. You’re right.” She lifted her glass and took a long sip. “Do whatever you want. See if I care.”
“I don’t need to ‘see’ anything.” He leaned even closer to her. “I know you don’t care. All you ever cared about was modeling. Which has me wondering why you ever quit? So come on, Leeann, since you can’t keep your nose out of my business, tell me why you walked away from the world of high fashion?”
Chapter Six
Leeann flinched, the sting of his words evident on her face.
But he didn’t stop pushing, since she had no issue shoving him. “What? No answer? At least tell me where all this is coming from. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. I’m home for one day and now you’re trying to psychoanalyze me?”
“No, but—”
“But what? You’re pulling out some psychological mumbo jumbo you learned at the police academy?” he continued, unable to stop the words from rolling off his tongue. “Maybe you need to take a look at yourself, considering you’ve walked away from yet another job today.”
“How did—who told you?”
“Gage mentioned that tonight’s ladies-only party was your farewell from the sheriff’s department and how sorry he was to see you go. Boy, you’re throwing away careers left and right. A few years in New York, a few years back here. Where to next?”
She put her drink down hard, the glass almost tipping over before she caught it and set it upright. “Well, as much fun as this has been, I think it’s best if I leave now.” Leeann slid out of the booth. “Tell everyone I said good-night.”
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Bobby had dragged Zip to the Blue Creek Saloon tonight to try to get Leeann out of his head, especially after seeing her earlier today at the Youth Center.
Yeah, he’d stopped by on purpose during a trip into town to show Zip downtown Destiny. The hero worshipping from the kids had been nice, but when Leeann had stepped out of an office to see what all the commotion was about, arms crossed and a fire in her eyes, he’d finished writing out a check to cover a group ski trip and hightailed it out of there.
Running into his old friend Justin Dillon when he’d arrived here had been great. Gage Steele had been standing there, too, and he’d made introductions for Zip, both of them meeting the other Cartwright brother, Landon. Then they’d heard the squealing and clapping from a distant table as Landon shared his impending fatherhood news.
He’d found his stare focused on the ladies, and even when Leeann spotted him, he hadn’t turned away. After that, it didn’t take long to convince the men to cross the bar. It felt like old times, standing directly behind where Leeann sat in the booth, back when they’d been young and in love—
Leeann rose and Bobby forced himself to his feet. Ignoring the burst of pain that started at his hip and raced southward to his knee, Bobby forced himself to his feet, cutting off her exit. “Wait, Lee, please. Don’t go.”
“I’m sorry,” he continued, “after all these years you’d think we could find something better to say to each other…”
Yanking off his Stetson, he dragged his fingers through his hair before slapping it back on his head. “Damned if I know what it is about you that still ignites a fire in my blood.”
Her gaze flew to his, but she remained silent.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I can prove to you I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Bobby. You’re right. We’re just old…friends who haven’t seen or spoken to each other in over a decade and suddenly we’re taking stabs at each other. It doesn’t make any sense.”
He grinned. “When did our…friendship ever make sense? Besides, this won’t include any talking.”
Curiosity crossed her features. “You’re not planning to do something stupid, are you?”
He hoped not. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Her eyes grew wide. “Are you crazy?”
Probably, but he didn’t care. His fingers still hummed from her brief touch earlier, and despite recognizing this new habit of hers of maintaining a well-defined personal space, he found himself wanting to invade that space. Wanting to wrap her in his arms and feel the press of her soft curves against him.
If that meant slogging through the shooting pain in his back and legs, so be it.
“We used to be pretty good at two-stepping if I remember correctly.” He inched closer. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up with me?”
An emotion flashed through her eyes so fast he wasn’t sure he’d actually seen it, much less be able to describe it.
“Lee? What’s wrong?”
She blinked and it was gone. Squaring her shoulders, her chin jutted out in that familiar stubborn way. “Nothing. Let’s do it.”
At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right, but when she headed for the dance floor, Bobby fell into step beside her, thankful his legs obeyed his silent command to move.
He placed his hand at her lower back, his fingertips brushing the soft cotton material of her T-shirt as they made their way through the crowd.
She flinched at his touch, but then they were at the edge of the well-worn parquet floor as a rocking hillbilly tune gave way to a classic George Strait ballad. She spun to face him. This time he was certain he saw a flare of panic in her eyes.
At what? Being in his arms again?
She started to shake her head. Before she could put her protest into words, he snaked one hand around her waist, clasped her hand in his and made his way among the growing number of couples on the dance floor. She let him lead, but barely. Her free hand only just touched his shoulder, her arms unyielding, back rigid.
He looked down. Her gaze was locked on the open collar of his shirt, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth.
“Hey, if you’re worried about people gossiping, no one’s watching,” he whispered into her hair above her ear. “It’s just you and me.”
He rubbed his thumb along her waist, trying to get her to relax, but the act seemed to make her even more tense. Damn, she was strung tight, moving across the dance floor like a puppet with an unseen power pulling at her strings.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Thanks to too much time on his feet his legs were on the edge of collapse, and obviously dancing with him was the last place she wanted to be.
What a joke.
He opened his mouth to tell her they should end this, when someone jostled her from behind. She landed hard against his chest and he grabbed her hips with both hands, bringing their bodies flush from the waist to the knees. He willed his already weak legs to hold him upright as he tightened his grip and spun in a quick half step in order to keep them from landing in a heap on the ground.
A small cry escaped her lips, her hands fisting his shirt as she clutched his shoulders.
“It’s okay, Lee. I’ve got you.”
She mumbled something so low he had to dip his head closer.
“Please…don’t…”
The soft plea went straight to his gut.
He instantly eased his hold, but then his boot heel caught on the edge of the dance floor. He strained to keep them upright as a white-hot flash of pain raced down both legs, knifing through bone, muscle and memory to steal his breath.
Clenching his jaw, he battled against the blinding pulsation. “Damn! Not now!” His words hissed between his teeth.
Lee’s head jerked up and her grip tightened. “Bobby? What is it?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He willed his legs not to give out on him.
“What can I do?” Her hands, suddenly strong and sure, moved to his back as she shifted her hips, trying to take on his weight. “Here, lean on me.”
“No.” He gutted out the words. “I’m…okay.”
“Like hell you are. You need my help!”
Yeah, he did and he hated himself for it. “Get…get us off the dance floor.”
Her head wrenched back and forth, the short strands of her hair whipping across his throat and jaw. “I don’t see a place to sit.”
He gestured with his head toward an area next to the stage. “Over there. The wall.”
It was empty but dark. He hoped there was nothing on the ground to trip them up. He wrapped one arm around Leeann’s shoulders, and she held him around his waist, plastering herself to his side as they took several shaky steps together.
It seemed to take forever, but finally they were close enough for him to brace one arm straight against the rough wood paneling, taking some of the weight off his legs. It wasn’t enough. He pivoted Lee around to face him, then released her to use both arms to support himself, effectively blocking her between his body and the wall.
Much better.
The pain lessened and he was able to pull in a deep fortifying breath, bringing with it Leeann’s fresh, clean scent that held a hint of earthy spice. A scent that had teased his memory long after she’d walked out of his house earlier today, only to wrap around him again when he’d leaned over the booth, using the first excuse he could think of to get close to her.
He lowered his head, gently bumping her forehead with the brim of his hat. “Man, you smell good.”
Her hands fell from his waist and she tried to back away but the wall was right there. Tilting her head, she looked up at him, but it was too dark to see her face.
Her breaths, quick and hot, scorched his skin and he flexed his fingers, pressing them hard into the wall.
“Do you want me get some help?” she whispered, the earlier panic returning to her voice. “I can go find Dean.”
“Stay.” His request sounded like a demand. He cleared his throat and tried for a lighter tone. “This way it looks like I dragged you off the dance floor for some private time. Or maybe you dragged me.”
“Bobby—”
“Don’t worry, Lee. I’m not thinking about anything at the moment except trying not to fall on my ass and make a complete fool of myself.”
That was a lie, but she didn’t have to know that.
“Do you feel better?”
He must, because his lower half was starting to respond to the intimacy of their position, tightening with need for the warm, sexy woman only inches away. “Yeah, I think so. Just don’t ask me to move.”
“W-we can’t stay here all night.”
As long as she stood here with him, no farther away than a deep breath to bring their bodies together, he was fine. He doubted Leeann felt the same way, even if she did seem a bit more relaxed now that they were off the dance floor.
Was that because he wasn’t actually touching her?
“Sorry about my lack of finesse out there.”
“You had to prove a point, huh?”
“I’m not talking about my injuries. Before…you acted— I don’t know…unc
omfortable while we were dancing. Don’t tell me the single guys in this town haven’t been keeping you busy on the dance floor.”
“No guy, um, what I mean is I don’t have a…” Her gaze centered on his chest again, her voice so low he barely heard her. “I don’t date. It’s been a while since I’ve been out…dancing or anything else.”
Was that a good thing?
Bobby had been surprised he hadn’t seen a wedding ring on her finger. He’d always figured Leeann left her modeling career in order to settle down, probably with a rich businessman who reminded her of her father. To find her living here in their hometown, no boyfriend, and as of today, no job…
Something wasn’t adding up.
But none of that mattered right now.
What mattered was that she was right here in front of him.
He dragged one hand down the paneling, inches away from Leeann’s sweet curves. He wanted so much to touch her, to press up against her, to make her look up at him again so he could cover her mouth with his.
“Lee—”
He shifted the hand still pressed to the wall to get better support. Big mistake. His knees buckled. Leeann grabbed him, and while the heat of her touch did wonders for his libido, it wasn’t going to keep them from falling flat on their faces.
“Lee, let go.” The last thing he wanted was to take her down with him.
Then the familiar strength of Zip’s muscular arm slid across Bobby’s shoulder blades. “Hey, buddy! What ya doing over here? Making time with the prettiest lady in the place?”
Leeann jerked her hands back.
Bobby silently mourned the loss.
He tried to smile through the pain, thankful his friend was making it appear that they were just two guys talking smack over a girl, instead of making Bobby look like a cripple who needed his human cane. “You know me, spending time making time.”
“Yeah, well, I may just have to arm wrestle you for this one.” Zip’s free hand rose and took on a familiar pose they used often during his therapy sessions. Elbow bent and flat, open palm. A high five with staying power. Bobby let go of the wall to latch on to it. “She’s something special.”