I'm Your Santa (11 page)

“And the fact I'm not an actor,” he said.

She really liked the sound of his voice. Listening to him talk was better than drinking a triple chocolate raspberry swirl.

“You could be.” Kathy blushed. “I mean, you look like one.”

“Except I'm not.”

“So what do you do?” Bailey knew she was crossing the line from friendly to nosy but she couldn't help herself. She was curious. Male stripper? Yum, she could envision him slowly peeling off his clothes and…

“I'm a preacher.”

Bailey had the straw in her mouth but rather than sucking, she blew in it. Her drink became Old Faithful as it bubbled over the top.

She quickly set it on the counter and looked at the biker. “You've got to be freakin' kidding me.”

She'd been lusting after a preacher! Oh God, she was going to hell for sure.

She grimaced. Had she just said freakin'? This was so not her day.

Jeremy looked at the woman sitting next to him. He'd been watching her since he'd walked inside the burger joint. He definitely liked what he saw: straight blonde hair that brushed her shoulders and tight-fitting jeans—a deadly combination in any man's book and he was no exception. He briefly wondered how long it would take him to get her undressed and into his bed.

His sigh of regret was long and deep.

A damn shame that wouldn't happen. He was playing a part. He was Trey Jones, preacher, and he had all the papers to prove it. Monty had made sure of that. The playboy was dead and buried—at least for a while.

Damn, this was going to be harder than he'd imagined. Good thing he only planned to stay long enough to grab a bite to eat. Temptation would be a distant memory by this afternoon.

But he couldn't help smiling. He didn't think she'd expected him to say he was a preacher.

“You okay?” he asked when she took another drink and choked. “Do you need saving?” He swiveled his stool around until he faced her, his gaze drifting over her. She filled out her clothes very nicely.

“I'm fine,” she managed to answer after she caught her breath. “But yeah, after the thoughts I was having I probably do need saving,” she mumbled.

No more than the ones I was having, he thought to himself, but kept a look of innocence plastered on his face.

The waitress quickly mopped up the spilled drink with a towel. “I'll get that burger started, Father…” She frowned. “Pastor…uh…”

“Trey is fine.” The waitress was cute with auburn curls bouncing all over her head as if she'd stuck her finger in a light socket or something.

She sighed with relief. “Good. Father just kind of sticks to the roof of my mouth.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, people don't really expect me to tell them I'm a man of God.”

“You're not Catholic, are you?” the waitress asked.

He shook his head. “Why?”

“It would be a sin if you didn't procreate.” She shook her head and walked toward the back.

“That's Kathy,” the blonde quickly spoke up as if she could cover what the waitress had said.

He turned his attention back to her and watched as she blushed. How long had it been since he'd seen a woman embarrassed?

No, the women he knew played hard and fast. They were out for a good time, maybe a little publicity if they were trying to claw their way to the top of the movie industry, which was fine with him. He didn't have any desire for long-term relationships.

But she was cute and sexy and looked hot in a pair of tight hip-hugging jeans and a little blue T-shirt that clung to her curves. His gaze rose to meet hers. “You know my name, what's yours?”

“Bailey…Bailey Tanner.”

“And what does Bailey Tanner do?”

“I'm a fourth grade school teacher.”

Ouch.

It was worse than he'd thought. Sweet
and
pure. She was off limits, but damned if he didn't want to test the waters. There was just something about her that made him want to linger.

Another reason to get out of town as fast as he could. She lived in little Two Creeks, Texas, where they probably still believed in right and wrong. He didn't play by the rules. Hell, he didn't even know what the rules were and for that matter, didn't really care.

“Here you go.” Kathy set the burger down in front of him. “What do want to drink?”

“Cola is fine.”

She nodded and got his drink.

He bit into the burger. She was right. Best burger he'd ever eaten. He'd almost finished before looking up. “It's dam…” He coughed. “…darn good.”

Kathy smiled. “That's because we raise our own beef.”

He looked at his burger. He was eating Bossy. Yeah, now he felt a hell of a lot better.

He washed down what he'd eaten and stood, fishing some bills out of his pocket. “You ladies have a nice day.” He nodded, then headed for the door.

Monty said he couldn't pull it off but everywhere he'd gone, people had believed he was a preacher. He was ready to get back home. A week on the road was enough research for anyone.

But as he stepped out the door, he had to take one last look at Bailey Tanner. Another time, another place, and he would've shown her what being a woman was all about.

She winked.

Not a quick good-bye wink. No, her wink was slow and sexy. Definitely an invitation wink. A burst of heat rushed through him. If a wink could do that much damage then what…

He missed the last step, grabbed for the door but he'd already let go. His foot twisted as he tried to stop his fall. The tendons and ligaments stretched, there was a pop and burning pain shot up his leg. He hit the ground with a hard thud.

God was punishing him. Maybe this was one role he wasn't meant to play.

Bailey ran out the door. “Are you okay?” she asked as she knelt beside him.

“My foot. I think it might be broken.

“I called an ambulance,” Kathy said as she ran out the door a few seconds later. “Are you okay?”

“He might have broken his foot,” Bailey nibbled her bottom lip.

“I'll get an ice pack,” Kathy said and ran back inside.

Sirens blared in the background.

This wasn't happening. How was he going to get home? He closed his eyes. Oh, yeah, he was definitely paying for his sins.

“Did you hit your head?” Bailey asked.

“Did you wink at me?” he countered.

“Uh…no. I had something in my eye.”

She was lying. Wasn't she? He wasn't positive. The only thing he knew for sure was the fact she was beautiful, and his foot hurt like a son of a bitch.

But she was certainly sweet temptation.

A spark of conscience flared inside him. Bailey was off limits. She probably believed in the little house with a picket fence, a couple of cute kids, and a husband with a regular job who actually came home at night. But it was nice that she seemed to care.

He mentally shook his head to clear it. She was probably afraid he'd sue her because she'd winked and caused him to miss his step. Yeah, she was lying. Bailey had winked. She looked too guilty.

Crap, he hadn't planned on this snag. How the hell was he going to shift the gears on his motorcycle with a bum foot?

 

Just looking at Trey as he lay on an emergency-room cot was enough of a guilt trip for Bailey. If a hole opened up, she'd crawl into it, and never look back. She'd lied. She really hated lying.

She drew in a deep breath. “I'm sorry I…uh…winked at you,” she apologized. Had she ever been more mortified? Probably, but this time was different. Her actions had caused someone to get hurt.

“So you didn't have something in your eye?”

She shook her head.

Janet, the ER nurse, had already taken his vitals and left the room. Thank goodness, they were all normal or she would've felt horrible. Not that she thought she could feel any worse than she did right now.

“I should've been paying more attention,” he said.

Oh, no, he was being nice and taking some of the guilt. She'd been wrong. She could feel worse.

“It's Saturday,” a loud voice boomed.

Bailey bit her lip. The doctor was here.

“Everyone knows that's the day I go fishing,” Dr. Canton's voice bellowed at the nurses' station. “We need more doctors. Maybe then I could get a blasted day off.”

“Please tell me that's not the doctor who'll be seeing me.”

She smiled, relaxing for the first time since Trey's accident. “His bark is much worse than his bite.”

“That makes me feel loads better.” His mouth turned down into a very attractive frown.

“He really is good.”

She turned toward the door as Dr. Canton came in. The old doctor stopped in the doorway, removed his glasses and held them up to the light. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his back pocket and cleaned the lenses as he walked the rest of the way into the room.

He stuck his handkerchief back in his pocket and his glasses back onto his face and stood there looking at Trey. “Well, you gonna tell me what's wrong or do you want to play twenty questions?”

Bailey bit back a laugh, clamping her lips together.

Trey frowned. “Since you're the doctor, I thought you would tell me.”

“I'm a doctor, not God.”

“I fell. I think my foot's broken.”

“You're a doctor?” Dr. Canton asked.

“No.”

“Then how the hell do you know it's broken?”

This wasn't going at all well. “He's a preacher, Dr. Canton.”

He looked at Trey over the top of his glasses. “You don't look like a preacher. Never saw one wearing leather pants, leastways.”

The doctor's gaze turned on her. She almost started fidgeting but held her stance.

“You know him?”

“I was there when he fell.”

“Janet,” he yelled.

“I can hear you, you don't have to holler,” she said as she came to the door.

“We need an x-ray.”

“I've already called and the tech's on her way in.”

He nodded. Janet left.

“Good nurse but kind of sassy.”

“I heard that.”

A grin started to form but Dr. Canton quickly quelled it before it got out of control and became a full-fledged smile.

Over the next hour and a half they x-rayed Trey's foot, then wrapped it and measured him for a pair of crutches. Bailey thanked her lucky stars it was only a bad sprain. At least she didn't have to live with the guilt that she'd caused him to break his foot.

“You traveling by yourself?” Doc asked.

“He has a motorcycle,” Bailey quickly told him.

“His ankle's sprained, not his tongue.” He looked at Trey. “You won't be riding it for a while. You got a place to stay for about a week or so?”

“He can stay with me.” When both men looked at her, she felt the heat climb up her face. How did she manage to find herself in these situations?

“In the guesthouse,” she clarified, then looked at Trey. “It's not much. Just one room and a small bathroom. It's behind my house but you're welcome to stay until your foot is better.”

“Thanks,” Trey told her, looking surprised she'd even offer.

It was the least she could do to make up for the fact she'd caused his accident. Besides, he was a preacher. What could possibly happen?

He could remember the phony name. Hell, he even thought of himself as Trey, but as he looked around the one room guesthouse, then at Bailey…well, it was difficult remembering he was Trey the preacher.

“Is there anything you need?” she asked after lighting the gas heater.

“Yeah, a drink.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Of water,” he lied, then reached up and rubbed his throat with a grimace. “Throat's parched. I guess from the pain pill the doctor gave me.”

No, this wasn't as easy as when he told someone he was a preacher then roared out of town on his bike. Now he had to actually act the part.

Okay, how hard could it be? This is what he got paid to do.

Bailey went to the cabinet and reached up. When she stretched, her shirt rode up in the back a few inches showing pale, smooth skin. She filled the glass half-full and brought it to him. There was just a little bit of natural sway in her hips.

Maybe not so easy.

“Here you go,” she said as she handed him the glass.

He dutifully took a drink. Vodka, it wasn't. Hell, he'd bet it wasn't even filtered.

“I can't believe I'm letting you stand around leaning on a pair of crutches,” she said. “There are clean sheets in the closet. I'm just sorry the place is so small.”

He inhaled the clean fragrance of soap and herbal shampoo as she wiggled around him. He wasn't at all sorry. “Beggars can't be choosers.”

She grabbed sheets and began to make the bed. All that twisting and turning…damn, talk about dying a slow death. He was beginning to think this part just wasn't worth it. She bent at the waist, her sweet ass sticking up in the air and twisting left then right as she tucked in the corners.

“That should do it,” she said as she pulled back the sheet, then straightened and glanced his way.

She bit her bottom lip, looking anxious. He didn't know what her problem was but he knew his. The only thing on his mind was pulling her into his arms and kissing her luscious lips. How much torture could one man be expected to take?

“You don't look at all well.” She shook her head. “You're pale and sweaty. You'd better lie down. Heaven help us if you pass out.” Her teeth tugged at her lip again. “That wasn't like…irreverent or anything was it? I didn't mean anything when I said heaven help us. It was just…”

He touched her arm, wanting to reassure her, but got lost in the warmth and softness of her skin. What it would be like to kiss her. He didn't think she'd resist. He could see the need in her eyes.

Most of his roles on screen had been acting the part of the playboy. He had all the moves down pat. He knew what to say, what to do so a woman was all too willing to crawl between his sheets.

But that wasn't the part he was playing now.

He drew in a deep breath and let go of her arm as he crossed the small space, propped the crutches against the wall and sat on the side of the bed.

“God knows exactly what you meant…my child.”

“Oh…uh…good. I'll let you rest while I take care of a few things at the house.” She left the guesthouse in a hurry.

He stretched out on the bed. Ending with “my child” had been a good touch. It sounded very godly. He grinned until he turned and bumped his injured foot.

“Crap! Shit! Damn…” He quickly glanced out the window beside the bed, breathing a sigh of relief. Bailey was just closing the backdoor. Okay, so he needed to work a little more on this character.

He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and speed dialed Monty. His agent picked up on the second ring.

“I thought you were going to check in yesterday?”

“Hello to you, too. Don't tell me you care.”

“Of course I care. I get fifteen percent of everything you make.”

Trey grinned. He knew better. Monty had been with him almost from the beginning, encouraging him, chewing his butt when he screwed up, picking him up when he fell, being more of a father than his own had ever been. Yeah, he knew better.

“You coming in tonight?”

“Not exactly. I've had an accident…”

“Son of a bitch! I told you that motorcycle was a bad idea…”

“It wasn't that kind of an accident. I missed a step and twisted my ankle. I'm in Two Creeks, Texas.”

“Do you want me to send a limo? I'm sure there's a company in the closest big town. They could probably have you at an airport in a few hours.”

He looked toward Bailey's house and could see her moving around inside. Something bothered him but he couldn't put his finger on it. He wanted to find out what it was.

“No, I think I'm going to stay here a few days. It'll give me a chance to see if I can handle the role of preacher for longer than a few hours.”

“What's the name of the hotel?”

He paused. “I'm staying in a guesthouse.”

“Female?”

He frowned. His agent should give him a little credit. “It's not like that.”

Monty chuckled. “If you can pull this off without taking her to bed then you'll be able to play the part, but I'm not going to place any bets.”

“I'll do it. I've never let a woman get in the way when it comes to my acting and I'm not about to start. This is business.”

“Call me if you change your mind and want me to send a car.”

“Yeah.” He closed his phone and laid it on the bedside table. Monty had no confidence in him. On this, he was wrong. There was nothing in life that he wanted more than this role.

He closed his eyes as the pain pill the doctor had given him, and days of getting less sleep than he was used to, began to take their toll. He was so friggin' tired, but as sleep began to envelop him in her embrace it was another's arms going around him that filled his mind.

 

Bailey grabbed the ringing phone. “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“What's going on? I heard you brought some man home with you. Is he there now? Why do you sound out of breath?” Wade asked.

Her brother. She should've known. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Nothing. I did. No. Because I couldn't find the phone.”

“Huh?”

She chuckled. Bailey loved her brother but he really had to remember she was a grown woman. He also believed the cliché that a fourth grade school teacher couldn't possibly have any sexual drive let alone a fantasy or two.

Just mentioning her name and sex in the same sentence always gave him the shakes. She sighed. If he only knew, but she didn't want to cause him to have a heart attack so she kept silent.

“Did you or didn't you?”

“What? Bring a man home? Yes, I did.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“He's a preacher.”

Silence.

“Catholic?”

“No.”

“Then it's not okay. Kick him out.”

“I will not.”

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Is that a threat?” Her frown deepened. “I'll have you know Mom and Dad trust me, which is a hell of a lot more than you do. I'm over twenty-one in case you haven't noticed, and if I wanted to sleep with someone, I would.” She drew in a deep breath. “And what makes you so pure as the driven snow? Don't even try to tell me you didn't sleep with Fallon before you were married. The twins' birthdays don't lie.”

“That's different…”

“Are you badgering your little sister again?” Fallon's voice could be heard in the background.

“She has a man staying at her house,” Wade said.

“The guesthouse,” Bailey clarified.

“Give me the phone,” Fallon said. “Hey, Bailey, you finally gettin' a little action?”

Bailey could hear Wade choking.

“Go check on the girls,” Fallon told him. “All clear,” she said into the phone after a few seconds. “Can you even imagine what he'll be like when the girls reach their teens?”

Bailey laughed. “No.”

She really liked her sister-in-law. She was an undercover CIA operative until Wade stole her heart. They'd needed each other.

“Give me the scoop on this guy.”

Bailey quickly filled in the details, even the part about her winking and causing the accident.

“Is he cute?” Fallon asked.

“Cute doesn't even begin to describe him.” She squeezed her arms around her middle. Boy did it not describe him! “He looks like Jeremy Hunter except for the color of his eyes and his hair is darker. Oh, and he has a scar down the side of his face but it only makes him look dangerous.
And
he rode up on a bad ass Harley and he was wearing black leather. How damned sexy is that?” Her pulse sped up remembering his arrival at the burger place.

“What does he think about you?”

She sighed. “Probably nothing. He's a preacher. It really should be a sin that a man of God could cause such impure thoughts.”

“Is he breathing?”

Her brow creased, wondering exactly what Fallon was getting at. “God, I hope so since he's in my guesthouse.”

“He's a man, he's breathing, then believe me, he's had a few thoughts about you.”

She looked toward the guesthouse.
Had
he thought about her? Interesting. But the man was still a preacher. He wouldn't…did preachers really think about…of course they would, but Trey probably didn't think about hot sweaty down and dirty sex like she'd been thinking about hot sweaty down and dirty sex since she first laid eyes on him. His thoughts were probably pure. Chaste kisses, sex after marriage, lights off and all that. She sighed. What a waste.

“Wade is yelling,” Fallon said, breaking into her thoughts. “I'd better check to make sure the girls are okay. Talk to you later. Oh, and don't forget practice tomorrow. Bring your preacher. It is a Christmas play, after all. He can make sure we get it right. Lord knows I'm not much on accuracy and all that. Gotta run.”

“Bye.” But Fallon had already hung up. Bailey replaced the phone but didn't move as she stared out the window. Her body tingled just thinking about Trey and what it would feel like to have him pull her close. She was so bad for even thinking like that.

She just had to keep repeating to herself that the man probably never thought about sex. A man of God would be more interested in bible stuff. Oh, but if he wasn't a preacher…

Chicken soup. That's what she should think about. Her mother's cure all. Not that she thought it would heal his ankle, but taking him a bowl of soup and a sandwich would be a good excuse to see him again.

Besides, she needed to get his keys so Kathy's brother could bring Trey's Harley over and park it at the house. She didn't like the thought of leaving it at the burger shop all night.

Maybe it would give her a chance to discover just how far a preacher would go.

She closed her eyes and thought about Trey pulling her into his arms, holding her close, his lips pressed against hers. She could feel the heat of his body, his hands caressing her.

No, no, no. She couldn't seduce the preacher. It was almost Christmas and she needed to be good. Though, seducing him might just be worth giving up a few presents.