Nothing But Trouble

Standing at a distance, Tallie glanced back and forth from the action on the field to Peyton. Peyton wasn’t exactly sitting in the stadium seat; he lounged in a relaxed position, sort of sprawled out, half sitting, half lying. Feeling her heartbeat quicken, Tallie cursed her stupid weakness. The very sight of Peyton Rand excited her. Of all the men she knew, why did the most unsuitable one have to be the one who gave her butterflies in her stomach?

She and Peyton came from such diverse backgrounds. He from a wealthy, political aristocracy. She from a family of poor blue-collar rednecks. He was a brilliant, sophisticated lawyer; she was a country girl who drove a tow truck. He was a man who played by society’s rules, and she had spent her entire life breaking all those rules, living by her own set of ethics.

So what if she and Peyton Rand were doomed as a couple? That didn’t mean that Donna Fields was the right woman for him. It wouldn’t hurt if she just went over and checked Donna out. After all, she couldn’t call herself a true friend if she let just any woman come along and snag the man she’d always dreamed would someday be hers.

Readjusting the collar on her jacket, Tallie took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling very slowly. Solomon crawled under the bleachers and lay down in the dirt when Tallie made her way upward, finding an empty spot directly below Peyton and Donna. She spoke to Spence and Pattie, exchanging pleasantries while she settled into place.

Tilting her head slightly, she leaned back toward Peyton. When he didn’t respond, she sat up straight, glancing out across the field to the scoreboard. “I see Marshallton is behind by two points. What we need is for J.J. to hit another home run the way he did at last Saturday’s game.”

“I don’t know if we could put up with him if he hits another homer,” Pattie said. “For days, he had such a big head, we threatened to disown him.”

“The boy has a right to be proud. He’s a good player. One of Marshallton’s best,” Spence said.

“Spoken like a proud stepfather.” Peyton wondered what it would feel like to have children, even stepchildren with whom you shared a close relationship. In the last few years, he’d given marriage and parenthood more than one passing thought. After all, he wasn’t getting any younger, and it never hurt a politician to have a family.

Turning around in her seat, Tallie stared at Donna Fields. “Hi, I’m Tallie Bishop, an old friend of Spence’s and Peyt’s.”

Donna’s big brown eyes widened. “Ah, so you’re Peyt’s little Tallie.”

Tallie wasn’t certain what the other woman meant by her comment. Obviously, Ms. Fields knew more about Tallie than Tallie knew about her. “I’m not sure that I’m—”

“I’ve had to cancel more than one engagement with Donna because of you.” Peyton slipped his arm around Donna’s shoulders. “She’s been an absolute sweetheart by being so understanding.”

“How absolutely...sweet of her.” Tallie glared at the auburn-haired beauty, who flashed her a brilliant smile, not a trace of animosity in her expression.

“You’re somewhat like Peyton described you,” Donna said. “But he forgot to tell me how pretty you were.”

Now why had that woman gone and said something nice to her? Tallie wondered. She’d been bound and determined not to like Donna Fields, and here she was all friendly and nice and... Tallie wanted to hate her, but she knew right off that that was going to be impossible.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Tallie said. “I’m afraid Peyt hasn’t told me anything about you, but I’ve drawn my own conclusions. You’re not quite what I was expecting.”

“What exactly were you expecting?” Donna asked.

“Tallie...” Peyton narrowed his eyes, glowering at her, his expression filled with warning.

“Oh, calm yourself, Peyt. I’m not going to say anything to embarrass you. I like her.” Tallie held out her hand to Donna. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Fields.”

Donna accepted the friendly greeting, shaking hands with Tallie. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Tallie. And please call me Donna. I have a feeling you and I are going to be friends.”

“Yeah, something tells me that we are.” In that one moment, in a flash of brilliant female intuition, Tallie knew that Donna Fields wasn’t in love with Peyton. Love wasn’t there in her eyes when she looked at him, or her voice when she spoke to him, or in her touch when she placed her hand on his arm.

Peyton didn’t like this new turn of events. His gut instincts had told him that, once they became acquainted, Tallie and Donna would like each other, but he hadn’t counted on it happening so fast. Both women shared qualities that drew others to them, and he had to admit that Donna’s friendliness, her concern for others and her warm, caring nature had reminded him of Tallie. But that was where the similarities ended. Donna would be an asset to any man; Tallie would drive a sober man to drink.

While the game continued, Tallie and Donna talked, discussing various subjects, but somehow their conversation kept reverting to Peyton Rand. The man himself appeared oblivious to everything the two women said about him. Pattie joined their conversation from time to time, but most of her concentration centered on her son, the team’s pitcher.

In the bottom of the sixth inning, the score tied five to five, Tony Miller came to bat. When the umpire called his third strike on the boy, Eric Miller marched over to the fence and yelled out a condemning obscenity.

“Oh, good Lord, I wish that man would stay home,” Pattie said.

Peyton took a good look at this Miller fellow. He was about the same height as Peyton, but outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, most of which were contained in his enormous beer belly. The very thought that this middle-aged, foulmouthed drunk had made sexual advances to Tallie made Peyton furious. If the man ever touched her...

Tallie stood, stretching her arms out on each side, allowing the feeling to return to her numb backside. “I’ve got to make a pit stop. Do either of you need to go?” She glanced at Donna and then at Pattie.

“Yes.” Grinning at Tallie, Pattie stood. Donna shook her head no. Tallie and Pattie made their way down the bleachers to the ground. When Solomon saw Tallie, he crawled out from his resting place and followed the two women toward the recreation center.

“Wonder why she called me Peyton’s ‘little Tallie’?”

“What?” Pattie asked.

Tallie waved and spoke to several people they passed on the path to the rest room. “Wonder why Donna Fields referred to me as Peyton’s ‘little Tallie’?” she repeated.

“I think it just slipped out before she thought about what she was saying. Peyton didn’t seem to approve, did he?”

“Peyton Rand would like nothing better than to see the last of me.” Tallie pushed open the door marked Women, then held it for Pattie. “Stay, Solomon.”

“Peyton talks about you all the time, you know.” Pattie waited in line with Tallie.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he does. He probably tells you what a holy terror I am and how he’s always having to get me out of trouble.”

“I think Spence and I know almost everything about Tallulah Bankhead Bishop. From the time you were a kid following your big brothers around, to your recent arrest for shooting a man with birdshot. You’re Peyton’s favorite subject, and the strange thing is, he’s not even aware of it.”

“Don’t you get sick and tired of hearing about me?”

“The question is don’t you think Donna Fields would be sick and tired of hearing about you after three months?”

“What makes you think he talks to her about me?” Tallie asked.

“I’d bet my last dime he does.” Pattie smiled at Tallie. “If Donna thought she and Peyton had a future together, she’d have every right to be terribly jealous of you, and she isn’t. Didn’t you notice?”

Just as Tallie started to reply, two women emerged from the stalls, leaving them free for Tallie and Pattie. By the time they came back out and washed their hands, the bathroom had cleared and they were its only occupants.

“She’s not in love with Peyt, is she?” Tallie dried her hands on brown paper towels.

“Donna told me that she thinks Peyton is a wonderful man and she enjoys his company.” Punching the air dryer, Pattie rubbed her hands together. “But no, I don’t think she’s in love with him. She’s a widow, you know, and I believe she has some unresolved feelings for her dead husband.”

“Do you think Peyt’s in love with her?”

“No.”

“Then why...I mean...well...”

“Why have they become an item?” Smiling, Pattie sighed. “Peyton is thirty-six and considering running for governor, so it’s only natural that he’d think about needing a wife. He hasn’t realized yet that although he and Donna are good friends, they’d be terrible as lovers.”

“Then Peyt and Donna aren’t...I mean...”

“Donna Fields is not your competition, Tallie.”

“What do you mean? If I’ve given you the impression that I’m interested in Peyton, in that way, then—”

“There’s no need for you to lie to me,” Pattie said, opening the rest-room door.

Following Pattie outside, Tallie signaled to Solomon. “I guess I’ve wanted Peyt since I was sixteen and realized I was in love with him. But I’m the worst woman in the world for him. He’s told me himself that all I am to him is trouble.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Pattie walked beside Tallie and Solomon as they made their way back toward the ball fields. “Considering what Peyton’s told me about you, I admit that you might prove a liability to a politician. On the other hand, you’re a champion of some very popular causes, and people seem to like you.”

“I can’t believe this conversation.” Stopping abruptly, Tallie turned to the other woman. “I dreaded meeting Donna because I knew she’d be everything that I’m not, that she’d be perfect for Peyt and that I’d hate her because she’d be such a haughty, nose-in-the-air snob. But I like her, and now you’re telling me that she isn’t my competition, that she and Peyt aren’t lovers, that—”

“I’m trying to convince you that you’re the right woman for Peyton Rand?”

“Hush, Pattie, don’t say that out loud.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t true. After meeting Donna tonight, I know she really is perfect for a man like Peyt and I most definitely am not.”

“There’s only one problem. Peyton and Donna are not in love. She may be perfect for a man like Peyton, but not for Peyton.”

“Peyt and I are like oil and water, you know.” Tallie caught sight of Eric Miller’s hulking frame moving toward her at a rather rapid pace for an overweight man who was weaving around like a toddler just learning to walk. “Oh, no,” Tallie groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Pattie asked just as Eric staggered up between them, his big body accidently shoving into Tallie, unbalancing her momentarily.

“Hey there, sexy gal. You interested in going out to my truck with me for a little drink?” Eric swayed toward Tallie, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“I think you’ve had one too many little drinks,” Tallie told him.

Slipping his arm around Tallie’s waist, Eric pulled her up against him. “I don’t know why you keep saying no. It ain’t like you’ve done got a man.”

Struggling against his powerful hold, Tallie glared up at Eric. “Let me go, you damned fool. Don’t you know Solomon would rip your throat out if I gave the order.”

As if on cue, Solomon snarled, baring his sharp teeth. The hairs on his back bristled.

“I ain’t scared of no damned dog. I could probably break his neck.”

“Tallie, I’ll go get Peyton and Spence,” Pattie said, walking away hurriedly.

“No, don’t,” Tallie called, but Pattie didn’t respond. “Eric Miller, you’re a menace to society.”

“You ain’t gonna sic that dog of yours on me, and we both know it.” Eric squeezed Tallie so fiercely, she cried out. “If you’re gonna be mine, sexy gal, you’d better learn to like it rough.”

Tallie counted to ten. He held her so tightly, she could barely breathe. If only she could manage to loosen his hold on her, she could aim her knee at his groin. He was right, she didn’t want to sic Solomon on him, but if she couldn’t free herself, she might have no other choice.

“Look, you overgrown baboon, if you don’t let me go, I will sic Solomon on you!”

Eric lowered his face downward until his nose touched Tallie’s. “Give me a little taste of what I want.”

That was it. She’d had all she was going to take. Just as she opened her mouth to give Solomon an attack order, she felt Eric’s hold on her loosen. Glancing behind Eric, she saw Peyton Rand, his big hand gripping Eric’s shoulder.

“Let the lady go.” Peyton’s voice held a cold, deadly edge.

Eric lumbered around, glaring at Peyton as he jerked himself out of the other man’s hold. “Who the hell are— Oh, yeah, you’re that fancy-pants lawyer Tallie’s so hung up on, ain’t you?”

“I’m the man who’s telling you that if you ever lay a hand on Tallie again, you might not live long enough to regret it.”

Eric chuckled, the sound loud and filled with nervous bravado. “Are you threatening me?” Eric puffed out his chest, his big gut only inches away from Peyton’s firm midsection.

“I’m stating a fact. Leave Tallie alone or, if I can’t put you behind bars, I’ll handle you personally.”

“Yeah, you and what army?”

Tallie stood there staring at Peyton as if she’d never seen the man before in her life. What was he doing? Did he even realize the implication of what he was saying? It wouldn’t look good if the papers picked up this story: Potential Gubernatorial Candidate Threatens Man’s Life Over Woman.

“You didn’t have to come running over here to protect me,” Tallie said, planting her hands on her hips. “I was about to sic Solomon on him.”

“Stay out of this, Tallie,” Peyton told her.

“Stay out of this?” Tallie noticed Spence coming up behind his brother, followed by Pattie and Donna Fields.

“Need any help, Peyt?” Spence asked.

“I think I can handle this,” Peyton said. “What do you think, Miller?”

“I think I ain’t fool enough to take on two men.” Eric turned, his heavy-lidded eyes resting on Tallie. “Next time, I’ll wait for a more private spot to sweet-talk you.”

When Peyton reached for Miller, Tallie ran between the two men. “Go on, Eric, get out of here!”

“Ain’t that sweet. You’re worried I’ll bloody up pretty boy’s face,” Miller said.

“No, I’m afraid Peyt will knock your brains out and get arrested for murder.” Tallie grabbed Peyton’s clenched fist. “Let him go.”

With a grin on his fleshy, blotched face, Miller walked off, swaying slightly as he made his way toward the parking lot.

Grabbing Tallie by the arm, Peyton pulled her down the walkway, away from the small crowd of onlookers, including Donna, Spence and Pattie. Following along peacefully, Solomon sniffed the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tallie jerked away from him just as they rounded the corner of the concession stand.

Peyton moved toward her, his gaze riveted to her face. He shoved her up against the back wall of the concession stand and splayed his hands out on each side of her head as he glared down at her. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” His voice shook. His hands trembled.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Tallie said. “Besides, I didn’t ask for your help. It was Pattie’s idea to tell you what was happening. Solomon and I had everything under control.” She peered around Peyton to where her dog sat a few feet away, sniffing the trash cans. “Just as soon as the trial is over, I’ll never ask for your help again.”

“Is that right? Are you going to be able to stay out of trouble with three men in this county ready to do you bodily harm? Cliff Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to beat the hell out of you, that goon Miller seems the type quite capable of rape and there’s not a doubt that Lobo Smothers would kill you or anyone else who gets in his way.”

“I’ve got a gun. I’ve got a dog. I’ll take care of myself. It’s not like anything is actually going to happen to me, you know.”

“Are you stupid, woman? Dammit, you are. Nolan, Miller and Smothers are all dangerous men. You need a keeper. Your brothers knew that when they asked me to watch out for you.”

“I do not need a keeper!”

Gripping her shoulders tightly, Peyton gave her a sound shake. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip. He wanted to break her in half. He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. He wanted to turn her over his knee and spank her until she promised to behave herself. But more than anything, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss the breath out of her. The very thought of anything happening to Tallie scared the hell out of him.

“Promise me that you won’t go near Cliff Nolan’s family or get yourself involved in any scheme to try to catch Lobo Smothers. And if Eric Miller comes near you again, call Lowell Redman immediately.”

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to throw herself into Peyton’s arms and ask him to hold her. She could sense the anger inside him, but she sensed something else, too. He was afraid for her, genuinely afraid.

“I will be on my best behavior from now until the trial. I promise.” She couldn’t bear to think she might be the cause of any negative publicity for Peyton. After all, the very fact that he was representing her at her trial would probably make the newspapers, at least locally. She didn’t want to do anything else that might create problems for him if he did decide to run for governor.

Peyton eased his hold on her shoulders. He should release her immediately, but damn, he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Touching Tallie was a mistake. He knew better. Just the feel of her tense little shoulders beneath his big hands aroused him. His mind had told him over and over again how wrong he and Tallie were for each other. Unfortunately, his body had ideas of its own. But he couldn’t allow his lust for her to overrule his common sense. She was ten years too young for him. Her brothers were his friends. He didn’t dare let her know how he felt or she’d jump to all the wrong conclusions. No sir, he wasn’t about to take advantage of Tallie when all he wanted from her was sexual release.

“Try to stay out of trouble, will you, for both our sakes?” Stepping away from Tallie, Peyton dropped his hands to his sides. His stomach tightened into knots when he looked at her. Those big, pale brown eyes, that full, pouty mouth, that stubborn little chin. Damn, why couldn’t he feel this way when he looked at Donna?

“I never mean to cause trouble for you, Peyt.”

“I know, Tallie. I know.”

“I guess you’d better get back to your date and let Spence and Pattie watch the rest of the ball game,” Tallie said.

“I suppose you’re right.” Turning around, Peyton hesitated before walking away from her.

“Oh, Peyt.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I like Donna. She’s a very nice lady. She’s just perfect for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. She is perfect for me,” Peyton said. She’s everything I could want in a wife. There’s only one problem. She doesn’t turn me inside out the way you do, little heathen.

Tallie watched Peyton walk away, back to where Donna stood by the bleachers waiting for him. He was where he belonged—with a woman he could be proud of, a woman his intellectual and social equal, a woman who could help his political career, not rip it to shreds.

Three

Sprawled out in the fat, navy-blue leather chair, Peyton sat alone in his Jackson apartment, a glass of Scotch in one hand, a half-smoked cigar in the other. He’d taken Donna home forty-five minutes earlier, after making a total fool of himself by coming on to her. She’d gently but forcefully told him that they were not going to have sex. He supposed he should be grateful to her for having more sense about the matter than he did, but damned if he could, considering his state of arousal. It had been quite some time since he’d been with a woman. In the past, his casual relationships with women had afforded him protected and uncomplicated sex. Donna was a different matter. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t about to play stand-in for another woman. When he’d told her there was no other woman, she’d laughed in his face.

Donna was a smart lady. Too damned smart. She’d figured out right away that his interest in Tallie Bishop was a lot more than big brother protector. Of course, he had denied that wanting Tallie and knowing he couldn’t have her kept him in a state of sexual frustration most of the time.

During the past ten years, he’d been able to keep his desire for Tallie under control, first by telling himself she was just a kid, and then by making sure he always had a willing bed partner in his life. But things had changed in the last few years. Tallie wasn’t a kid any longer, and his bed partners had, by his own choice, become few and far between.

The problem was that he wanted Tallie, but he didn’t dare allow himself to love her. Although she’d make most any man a good wife, Peyton couldn’t see Tallie as first lady of the state. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d make a good political partner. No, Tallulah Bankhead Bishop might be the sweetest, prettiest, most desirable woman he’d ever known, but she wasn’t suited to the kind of life-style he’d chosen for himself.

And he was as ill suited to Tallie’s life-style as she was to his. He could never be the kind of man she needed. He was far too set in his ways, far too entrenched in his family’s traditions to break free. He was not the rebel his younger brother had always been. No, Peyton Marshall Rand played the game by the world’s rules. He was an expert at unemotional combat. He knew what it took to win and was willing to pay the price. That’s why he never lost.

Controlled by her emotions, Tallie Bishop lived by her heart’s desires, always championing the underdog, always trying to right all of life’s wrongs. Never considering the outcome, she jumped into situations with both feet.

If Tallie hadn’t once fancied herself in love with him, he might have already thrown caution to the wind and bedded her. But he couldn’t take the chance that she’d really fall in love with him and he’d wind up breaking her heart. Tallie deserved better than a brief affair—an affair he could use to work her out of his system.

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