Wes grinned. “You’re just pissed because she loves me.”
“I love her, but I never said she had good taste,” Luke said sourly.
Chapter Thirteen
Payton rubbed tired eyes as she turned onto 59 out of Beaumont. She hadn’t slept much the night before. Hell, she hadn’t slept a wink all damn week. But she wanted to see Wes. She needed to see him. After spending the week at the hospital, praying for her dad to recover, she wanted nothing more than the comfort of Wes’s arms.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter as traffic zipped by her in the left-hand lane. Monday night had been a sleepless, tense night, holding onto her mother as they waited to hear some word of her dad’s condition.
He’d spent Tuesday and Wednesday in critical condition but by Wednesday night had shone signs of improvement after the bypass operation he’d undergone.
Thursday, he’d been awake and alert, much to Payton and her mother’s relief. She’d stayed the afternoon with her father, telling him how much she loved him.
Friday, her mother had all but kicked her out of the hospital with strict instructions not to return until the next week. She’d been reluctant to go, but the thought of seeing Wes again after her harrowing week was a strong incentive.
Now she was but a few miles from town. Wes had said he had to work, but she could wait around until he got off. She’d stop to get something to eat and then call him to see when his shift ended.
Remembering the choices he’d offered her before, she mulled over whether she wanted barbeque, Mexican or a burger. None of it sounded good, but she was hungry and needed to eat. Zack’s offered a few grill items and it was as good a place as any to sit back and relax.
Decision made, she rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck as she drove into town. A few minutes later, she parked outside Zack’s and wearily got out of her car.
She opened the door and headed straight for the bar. She slid onto a barstool and caught the eye of the young bartender. After placing an order for tea and a grilled cheese sandwich, she sat back and looked around the interior.
When she got to the far corner, she froze, blinked and refocused on the table. No, she wasn’t mistaken. Wes was sitting with a redhead who was smiling up at him. He clasped her hand across the table, and she laughed at something he said.
Working? The asshole had said he had to work. That was his excuse for not seeing her today. Unbelievable. Why lie? Why not just save them both the trouble and tell her he wasn’t interested in seeing her anymore. Or maybe she was just sex on the side while he made time with the auburn floozie.
She seethed while she considered her options. Part of her wanted to disappear out of the bar, go home and wipe Wes Hoffman from her existence. But damn it, she hadn’t done anything wrong. She wasn’t the one spitting out lies. No way in hell she was slinking off like some shrinking violet. Maybe that was the kind of woman he was attracted to, but fuck that.
She slid off the barstool and stalked over toward the table. Halfway there, the redhead glanced up and blinked. Probably saw the murder in Payton’s eyes. The woman nudged Wes’s hand and nodded her head in Payton’s direction.
By the time Wes looked up, Payton was standing over the table like an avenging angel come to kick some demon ass.
“Payton!”
Wes said, his eyes widening.
The redhead’s eyes also widened. Then she smiled. “Oh you’re Payton. I’ve been dying to meet you. I’m Gracie Forsythe.”
“And I don’t care,” Payton said through gritted teeth. She summarily dismissed the redhead and turned her ire on Wes. “You cock-sucking bastard. You lied to me. If you would have just told the fucking truth, you would have saved me a trip over here, not to mention the embarrassment I’m about to cause you.”
Wes stood, holding his hand out to cup her elbow. She yanked her arm away. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” She turned to storm off, but he caught her arm.
“Payton, please. Let me explain.”
Tears burned her eyelids but she was determined not to cry in front of him. “There’s nothing to explain, Wes. You made yourself perfectly clear last night. I was just too thick to get it. But why the lie? Why not just tell me you didn’t want to see me? I’ve been straight with you from the beginning. You owe me the same, damn it.”
“Straight?” he echoed. “How can you say you’ve been straight? I don’t have a fucking clue where I stand with you. You haven’t once called me. I called the week before. I instigated the weekend in Houston. I thought it was time for you to call me.” He shifted his feet and looked uneasily away before continuing, “I didn’t want to come across as a desperate loser.”
She gaped at him. “You want to know why I didn’t call you, Wes? I was at the hospital all fucking week because my dad had a near-fatal heart attack. I didn’t have time to call you. I was too worried about losing my father. I spent the week worried sick and at the end of it all, I just wanted to see you. Be with you. No games. No scorecard.”
A tear trickled down her cheek, and she swiped angrily at it with her sleeve. “You know what? Fuck you, Wes Hoffman. I don’t need your shit.”
She stomped across the floor and out of the bar. Wes caught up to her as she wrenched open the door to her car. He grabbed her wrist, preventing her from getting in.
“Payton, no. You can’t leave like this. You’re too upset to drive. Please, just stay and talk to me.”
“Why, so you can feel less like a desperate loser? Drop dead,” she said in an acid voice. She slid into her car and slammed the door.
Her hands shook as she jammed her key in the ignition. Finally, she got the engine started, and she turned her head to look behind her as she backed out of her space. When she got turned around, she spared one last glance at Wes as she peeled out of the parking lot.
Wes watched her go, a relentless ache snaking through his chest. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he sought to control the shaking.
Everything in the last two weeks came down to this. Payton was walking out of his life, much like she’d walked back in. In a whirlwind. Only he had no desire to see her go.
She was furious, and he deserved every bit of her anger. He closed his eyes, willing the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach to go away.
He didn’t want to lose her.
“I like her,” Gracie announced from behind him.
He turned and looked questioningly at her.
Gracie grinned. “She was ready to kick my ass. She seems a little possessive of you.”
“She just told me to fuck off,” Wes said grimly.
Gracie shook her head and grasped his arm. She tugged him back into the bar and shoved him onto a barstool.
“I’ve fucked up, Gracie.”
She made a sound of exasperation. “You make it sound like you’ve already lost her.”
“Haven’t I? I lied to her. Now she thinks I’m screwing around with you behind her back.”
“Men are so stupid when it comes to women, I swear. Do you think that little show was because she wanted nothing to do with you? Hell, she was ready to scratch my eyes out. A woman who doesn’t care doesn’t go to that kind of trouble, Wes.”
“I’ve got to talk to her.”
Gracie nodded. “Yes, you do, but before you do, you need to figure out what it is exactly you’re going to say to her once you make her stop to listen.”
He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. What did he want to say to Payton?
“You’ll only get one chance,” Gracie said softly. “Make it count. Don’t be afraid to lay it on the line. If you don’t, you risk losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”