Winning Dixie Read online

  “I didn’t notice you blushing.”

  “I was blushing on the inside.”

  “Do tell.”

  “You’re trying to sidetrack me.”

  “Is it working?”

  Wade looked her right in the eye. “When I look at you I see a very attractive woman who works her butt off—and I hope you don’t mind my saying, a very fine butt it is—to run her thriving business and provide for her sons. She’s strong and determined and kind and—”

  Dixie blushed and looked away. “Okay, okay, but you still don’t get a raise.”

  So, Wade thought, she wasn’t comfortable accepting compliments. Did that mean she hadn’t received her fair share of them in the past? He didn’t want to think that his new heart came from an idiot, but…

  No, he wouldn’t think that. They’d gone together practically their entire lives. It would have been a miracle if they hadn’t taken each other for granted.

  “Got another one!”

  Wade and Dixie looked to the pier and Ben, who had yelled.

  “Easy, easy,” Pops cautioned.

  “Don’t wanna lose that sucker,” Tate added.

  Wade and Dixie looked at each other and smiled at something that sounded like Pops coming from the eight-year-old’s mouth.

  “Easy,” Pops said again. “That’s it, that’s it. Whooee! He’s a beaut, Benny boy.”

  “Mom, Mom! Look!” Ben held out his line with the catfish still flopping around on the hook.

  “Good job,” Dixie called. “Be careful getting the hook out.”

  “Gol’, Mom, I’m not a baby,” he said with disgust.

  “Of course you’re not. I say the same thing to Pops, you know. How many is that?”

  “Two for me and one for Tate,” Ben called.

  “They’re not gonna leave any for me,” Pops complained. “Watch out, there,” he added to Ben. He reeled in his line and laid his pole down. “Let’s use my pliers to get that hook out. That ol’ catfish’ll cut you to pieces if he can.”

  “Didn’t I just tell him to be careful?” Dixie mumbled. “When it comes from me, he gets all bent out of shape. From Pops, it’s great.”

  “That’s because you’re a girl,” Wade offered. “Don’t take it personally, Mom. Guys don’t take advice from girls when other guys are around.”

  For Dixie it was a slow, lazy, absolutely wonderful day, made more so because of Wade’s presence. Who would have thought that adding an extra man to the outing could make such a difference?

  Look at him, she thought, sitting there beside the fire toasting marshmallows with her sons.

  The sun was just going down, the air was cooling. They had all stuffed themselves on catfish. She’d brought potatoes, which they’d wrapped in foil and cooked over the hot coals.

  The watermelon had been a big hit, even though it was too early in the season to get a really good one.

  But the pleasure for Dixie was in watching her sons enjoy Wade’s company. She had worried that Pops might feel shut out, or somehow replaced. But he, too, seemed to be enjoying Wade’s presence.

  To be honest—and Dixie tried to be honest—Wade’s interaction with the men in her life was only part of the reason she was enjoying herself so much. The fact that he was a great-looking guy who flirted with her at every turn had a lot to do with it.

  Okay, she was vain and self-centered and obviously more starved for male companionship than she’d realized.

  But, oh, he was fine to look at. Sexy, funny and so caring with Ben and Tate.

  How could she stop herself from caring about him? Why should she even try?

  At that precise moment he looked across the fire, and their gazes met. Dixie felt heat seep through her body, even as the air left her lungs. She wanted to lick her lips, but at the last second stopped herself. Her mouth was just as dry as her lips, anyway.

  Pulling her gaze away took much more effort than it should have. She cleared her throat. “It’ll be dark soon. We need to start packing up.”

  “Aw, Mom.”

  “Aw, Mom.”

  “Yeah,” Wade said. “Aw, Mom.”

  “Very funny, you three.” But she laughed. “Tate, you help Pops load up the fishing gear. Ben, take the bucket and get water to put out the fire.”

  “What about me,” Wade asked as everyone scattered. “What can I do?”

  “You don’t need to do anything. You’re our guest.”

  “And I’m glad to be your guest.” He walked around the fire, came steadily toward her until they were a mere two feet apart. He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  Dixie couldn’t control the shiver that raced through her at his touch. His hands were warm and deliciously heavy. Her pulse sped.

  “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun,” he said quietly.

  “Wade.” She had no idea what she might have said next. He was so close he seemed to swallow up all the air, because she couldn’t quite draw in enough. She was grateful when he interrupted her.

  “Or better fish.” He dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. “Now I’ll help load up. I’ll get the lawn chairs.” He turned away and folded up the lawn chairs.

  When he walk away toward the SUV, carrying the three lawn chairs, Dixie shook her head. What the hell was the matter with her? She’d practically swooned at his feet like some helpless Southern belle.

  “Idiot,” she muttered.

  “Did you say something, Mom?”

  Dixie jumped as if she’d been shot. There stood Ben, swinging his empty bucket beside the steaming remnants of the fire. “How long have you been standing there?” Great. Now she was yelling at her kids. She was definitely losing it.

  “Gol’, I dunno. Whatsa matter?”

  “Nothing. You just startled me, that’s all. Good job on the fire. Here, take this sack up to Pops at the car, please.”

  “Are you sure you won’t let me drive you home?” Dixie asked Wade. He had insisted on helping unload the car. All that was done now, and Pops was gone across the dark backyard to his apartment. The boys had already plopped down in front of the television. They weren’t about to take their baths without being told. Their desertion left her alone in the kitchen with Wade. She wanted a little more time with him. Maybe if she drove him home he would touch her again. Or she would get brave enough to touch him. But in the end, he turned down her offer.

  “After all that fish,” he said, “I feel a need for a walk.”

  “I know what you mean.” Dixie smiled despite her disappointment. “I’m glad you came with us today.”

  “So am I. Like I said earlier, I had a great time. You’ve got a couple of really terrific kids.”

  “Thank you. I think they’re pretty great, too.”

  She led the way from the kitchen into the living room. Ben lay sprawled on his belly on the carpet beside the coffee table, his neck bent up sharply to see the television. Tate had the couch, but instead of sitting on it, he had his stocking feet on the wall behind the couch, his butt backward in the seat, and his head hanging off the seat cushion so he had to watch the TV upside down.

  Dixie let out a mother’s sigh, a combination of love and dismay. “Say good-night to Wade, boys.”

  There was silence for a moment, except for the squealing of tires in the car chase on TV.

  “Boys?”

  A commercial came on the air. Both boys flipped over to look at Wade.

  “Do you have to go?” Ben asked.

  “Can’t he stay?” Tater begged.

  “Hey, thanks, guys,” Wade said before Dixie could speak. “But I’ve gotta get home and get my beauty rest.”

  The boys snickered and made gagging noises.

  Dixie opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Wade said good-night to the boys and followed. He stood next to her, with the only light on the dark porch coming from the open front door behind him and the streetlight down the block. Two houses away, a dog barked. Such a norma
l sound. But Dixie didn’t feel normal. She felt…expectant. She wanted—

  “What?” Wade asked.

  “What, what?”

  “You looked like you wanted to say something.”

  Dixie chuckled. “Didn’t we have this conversation earlier today?”

  “It does sound familiar, albeit reversed. So, what’s on your mind?”

  She was tired of this seesawing of her emotions, of not knowing what to do about it. Of denying herself. She decided to go for it.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she began.

  “About what?”

  “About kissing.”

  He made a choking sound.

  “No comment?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just wondering if you’re a mind reader.”

  “Nice save,” she told him, her heart starting to race.

  “What is it about kissing that you were thinking about?” he asked.

  “Well.” She took a swaying step toward him, trying to act as if she knew what she was doing, all the while praying she wasn’t making a fool of herself. “It occurred to me that if I were to kiss you, it could be construed—since I’m your boss, I mean—as sexual harassment.”

  He took a step toward her, leaving a scant inch of night air between them. “I never thought of that.”

  “Oh, I did.”

  He lowered his face toward hers. “You have to know I’d never complain if you kissed me.”

  “That is good to know.” She tilted her face up. Her breath mingled with his. “But, we wouldn’t have to worry about it at all, if…” She used her tongue to moisten her lips.

  He made a quiet moaning sound. “If?” His lips were all but touching hers.

  Hers were practically vibrating. “If…you…kissed…me.”

  “Ah.” He moved a fraction of an inch closer. “I see the difference. You…don’t mind?”

  “Mind?” She swallowed hard. “Mind what?”

  “This.” His lips brushed over hers so lightly, she wasn’t sure she felt him.

  Then again and again, teasing her, tasting her, each time more firmly, more fully. Yet still teasing.

  Dixie wanted more, a deeper taste. She took his face in both hands and held him closer. And took what she wanted from him.

  And he gave it. His heat, and his arms, surrounded her. His taste, the sharp, sweet flavor of man, delighted her. The way he pulled her body to his and held her close turned her knees to jelly.

  Deeper and deeper he took them, and she reveled in it. There were no neighbors who could see if they looked out their windows. There were no children just inside the door. There was no employee to face in the morning. There was only now, the two of them. No world, just his mouth, his hands, his thighs. The hardness of his…

  One more minute and she would be begging him to take her right there on her front porch. To forestall that, she reluctantly ended the kiss and inched back from him.

  He let out a long breath. “That was…”

  “Yeah. It was.”

  “I should let you go in,” he said.

  “I should go in,” she said.

  “Good night.”

  “Okay.” Her brain was still scrambled. The man’s kiss packed a punch. “Just one more.”

  “Oh, good.” And he took her in his arms again and kissed her. It was long and slow and deep, and she wanted it to never end.

  But this time it was Wade who ended it and stepped back. He squeezed her shoulders gently. “If I don’t leave right now, we could end up shocking your sons.”

  “Good night,” she told him, not sure if her heart would ever slow to normal again.

  “Good night.”

  Dixie stood on the porch and watched as Wade walked down the street and disappeared into the darkness.

  Oh, man, she thought. She pressed her hands to her heated cheeks and wondered how she was supposed to face him in the morning. Without jumping his bones.

  Wade smiled all the way home. He purposely blocked the questions and concerns trying to seep into the forefront of his mind. It was easy for a while, because he kept reliving the day, the kiss. Especially the kiss. The first one, the second one.

  Dixie had surprised him. After treating him more or less like a member of the family for most of the day, she could have given him a good-night handshake and he wouldn’t have been surprised or offended.

  But she must have been feeling the same pull and heat that had been stalking him. For which he would be eternally grateful.

  Now, however, what was she going to think…how was he going to tell her why he’d come to Tribute? Did this change why he was here?

  Hell, he’d been telling himself since before he left New York that he was coming to Texas to check on the boys.

  Okay. He’d checked on them. They had a good life, a great mother, a fine town and a terrific great-grandfather for a male role model. They didn’t need Wade. He had no excuse for staying. Yet he couldn’t imagine leaving.

  Not yet. He couldn’t leave just yet. Something felt unfinished. The boys never talked about their dad, but that didn’t mean anything. They’d been without him for two years now. Why should they talk about him?

  Dixie had spoken briefly about him today, but, while she’d obviously cared for her ex, she hadn’t exactly raved about what a great guy he’d been.

  So the man had been human. So he hadn’t been the perfect husband. He’d loved his sons, and surely their mother, too. Sometime during his life he’d done the courageous thing and checked the organ donor box on his driver’s license. It was that act, that one deed, that made the man a hero in Wade’s book. It was for that, and not his inability to pay his bills, that he should be remembered.

  Many people were terrified to check that box. They thought it meant that if they were ever seriously injured, some overeager doctor would see that check mark and start harvesting organs, guaranteeing the injured person’s premature demise. A primal nightmare, waking up while your heart was being cut out.

  To be honest, before his own heart trouble, Wade had barely been able to force himself to check that box. He wasn’t above a primal nightmare or two of his own.

  But when he needed a heart, there was James Donald McCormick, hero extraordinaire. He may have had too much to drink, he may have stepped carelessly in front of a cab—according to Wade’s investigation, that’s what had happened. But sometime before that, Jimmy Don, as his family called him, had stepped up to the plate and checked that little box that had saved Wade’s life.

  Wade had been lucky, and he knew it. He could think of no way to express how he felt about his donor, no way to make the man’s sons see their father as the hero he was, above and beyond a father’s normal heroic status, to tell them how many lives he’d saved, how many other lives he had improved by his generous gifts.

  How was he supposed to do that after the way he’d kissed Dixie tonight?

  Maybe, he thought as he let himself into his apartment, some solution would come to him during the night. He had time yet. There was no clock ticking on when he told them who he was, or if he even told them at all, as long as they came to see their father the way Wade wanted them to.

  But he was wrong about there being no deadline. After listening to his voice mail that night, he could hear, along with his sister’s voice, the ticking of a giant clock.

  “Wade,” she’d said, “dammit, of all the times for you to turn off your cell phone. Well, it can’t be helped. You need to know that the tabloids have discovered you’re missing. It’s only a matter of time before they track you down, so hurry up and finish your business and get home.”

  Chapter Five

  “Mom?”

  “What is it, hon?” Dixie stood in her kitchen and smoothed a hand over Tate’s unruly hair.

  “How come you’re only wearing one shoe?”

  Dixie looked down and sighed. Well, damn. “Because I’m old and forgetful.”

  “Ha!” Pops cackled. “If you’re old, what’s that make me? T
ime to get to work, you guys. As soon as your mother finishes getting dressed.”

  Dixie rolled her eyes and went in search of her other shoe. It had been like that since she woke up.

  Longer. Her mind had been in a fog since she’d watched Wade walk away last night. She’d almost let the boys go to bed without a bath. This morning she’d tried to put two earrings into the same hole in her ear. She’d brushed her teeth without toothpaste. And now she’d nearly left the house wearing only one shoe.

  All this because of one kiss. Okay, two, but who was counting? Two kisses from a man who took her breath away.

  Had it really been so long since she’d been with a man that a couple of kisses could knock her for such a loop?

  The answer was yes. The last man she’d been with had been Jimmy Don, about a year after their divorce, when she’d had one too many beers and he’d been exceptionally charming.

  Now here she was, three years later, going gaga over a couple of kisses.

  When she and Pops and the kids finally arrived at the diner, she breathed a sigh of relief that Wade wasn’t standing outside waiting for them. She still had time to decide how to act around him.

  About three minutes, as it turned out. Not nearly enough time to prepare herself for seeing Wade again. She sent the boys off to the banquet room, then turned toward the kitchen to help Pops with their breakfast. And suddenly there was Wade, already standing at the counter checking the supplies she would need during the day.

  He was so damned good-looking, she thought. All she could do was stand there and drink him in with her eyes.

  “Hi,” he said, his attention barely straying from checking the level in each ketchup bottle.

  “Good morning.” Lord, did she have to sound so breathy? She cleared her throat. “No trouble getting home last night?”

  He glanced at her, smiled quickly. “Not a bit.”

  Yes, and, hello, my name’s Dixie. What’s yours? He was acting as if he barely knew her. She suddenly felt unsure of herself, and it was not a comfortable feeling. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Not a thing. Everything seems in order here. I’m going to go put these bottles out on the tables.”

  “Sure. Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. “Good.” And wasn’t that brilliant?