Confessions: He's The Rich Boy / He's My Soldier Boy

“She was pregnant!” Mary Beth said, lifting her chin a fraction. “She went to Portland to have the baby and give it up for adoption without anyone from around here knowing about it.”

“But—”

“And the baby was Hayden Monroe’s,” Patty insisted, a cruel little smile playing upon her lips.

“How do you know?”

“Everybody knows! Hayden’s father caught him with Trish in the boathouse last summer. Garreth was furious that his son was with a girl from the wrong side of the tracks and he shipped Hayden back to San Francisco so fast, he didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her. Not that he probably wanted to. Anyway, a few weeks later, Trish moved to Portland. Very quick. Without a word to anyone. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.” One of Patty’s blond eyebrows rose over the top of her sunglasses.

Nadine wasn’t convinced. “Just because they were together doesn’t mean that—”

Patty waved off her argument while glancing at her reflection in a hand mirror. Frowning slightly, she reached into her beach bag and dragged out a lipstick tube. “Of course it doesn’t mean that he’s the father. But Tim knows Hayden’s cousins, Roy and Brian. The Fitzpatrick boys told Tim that old man Monroe put up a ton of money to keep Trish’s family from talking.”

“Roy and Brian Fitzpatrick aren’t exactly paragons of virtue themselves,” Nadine pointed out.

“Believe what you want to, Nadine. But the story’s true,” Mary Beth added with a self-righteous smile. “And it doesn’t surprise me about Trish. She’s following in her mother’s footsteps and everyone in town knows about Eve London!”

Nadine’s stomach turned over. Eve London had earned a reputation as the town whore. With three ex-husbands and several live-in lovers, she’d often been the talk of the town. Trish had grown up in her mother’s murky shadow.

Patty touched the corner of her lips where she’d smeared a little lipstick. “But that’s old news. I heard that Hayden’s about to get engaged to some rich girl from San Francisco. I wonder what she would say if she found out about Trish.”

“She’ll never know,” Mary Beth predicted.

Patty lifted a shoulder. “She’s supposed to come and visit Hayden at the summer cabin. There’s always the chance that she’ll overhear some of the gossip.” With a wicked little grin, she reached for the radio again and fiddled with the dial. “I wonder what she’d say if she found out Hayden was a daddy.”

“You don’t know that—”

“Oh, Nadine, grow up!” Mary Beth interjected. “What is it with you? Why won’t you believe that Hayden Monroe made it with Trish?”

“Maybe Nadine’s got a crush on the rich boy,” Patty said as she found a country station. Settling back on her blanket, she turned her attention to Nadine. “Is that it?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“But you’d like to, I’ll bet,” Mary Beth said. “Not that I blame you. Sexy, handsome and rich. Yeah, I can see myself falling for a guy like him.”

Nadine had heard enough. She didn’t like the turn of the conversation and she didn’t want to believe any of Patty and Mary Beth’s gossip. The fact that her own mother had hinted about some sort of scandal revolving around Hayden just a few days before bothered her, but she’d lived in Gold Creek long enough to know that gossip swept like wildfire through the small town. Sometimes it was true, other times it was just people starting rumors to add a little spice to their own boring lives.

Slinging her towel around the back of her neck, she walked to the edge of the dock, plopped down and dangled her feet over the edge until her toes touched the water. The sun was hot, intense rays beating against her scalp, the bleached boards of the deck warm against her rear end. Squinting, she watched as Hayden drove his boat flat-out, the engine screaming, the prow slicing through the water.

Her heart did a funny little somersault as she focused on his dark hair blowing in the wind and his bare chest, lean and muscular. Was the story about Trish London true? Or just a figment of a small town’s imagination? And what about his engagement to Wynona Galveston? Her stomach wrenched a little at the thought of Hayden getting married, but she chided herself for her silly fantasies. She’d given him a ride to town. Period. As far as Hayden was concerned, she wasn’t even alive.

Ben returned, anchored his boat and hoisted himself onto the dock. “You comin’?” he asked, dabbing his face with the corner of her towel. Nadine shook her head. “Fine. Have it your way.” Over the sound of Kenny Rogers’s gravelly voice, she heard Ben’s retreating footsteps and the low laughter of Patty Osgood. Sliding a glance over her shoulder, Nadine thought she might be sick. Patty’s coral lips were curved into a sweet smile and she was leaning on her elbows, coyly thrusting out her chest, which was tanned and slick with oil. Ben sat down beside her and could barely keep his eyes from the plunging neckline of the reverend’s daughter’s halter top and the heavy breasts confined therein.

Shuddering, Nadine turned her attention back to the lake and the sound of an approaching boat. Her heart nearly stopped when she spied Hayden edging his speedboat closer to the dock.

“I was pretty sure I recognized you,” he said, once the boat was idling. He was wearing cutoff jeans that rode low on his hips, exposing a bronzed chest with a sprinkling of dark hair. Sunglasses covered his eyes again and the old cutoffs hid little of his anatomy.

Nadine’s throat was suddenly dry as sand.

Throwing a line around one of the pilings, Hayden stepped out and plopped next to her on the edge of the dock. Water beaded in his dark hair and ran down his chest. Nadine’s insides seemed to turn to jelly as she stared at him. “I figured I could pay you back for the other day.”

Her temper inched upward at the thought of their last conversation. Why had she bothered defending him to her family and friends? He was just as bad as they’d all told her he was. “I thought you understood how I felt about your money.”

A sexy grin stretched lazily across his jaw. “I wasn’t talking about cash. How about a ride?” He cocked his head toward the boat.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said quickly, though a part of her yearned to take him up on his offer. Alone. With Hayden. Knifing through the water with the wind screaming through her hair. The thought was more than appealing, but she didn’t trust him. Despite the fact that she’d fantasized about him daily, she still wasn’t sure that being alone with him was the right thing to do.

“Look, I owe you—”

“I told you before you owe me nothing. We’re square, okay?”

“Then I’d like you to come with me.”

Nadine blew her bangs from her eyes. “Look, prince, you don’t have to—”

Suddenly one of his large, warm hands covered hers and her heartbeat jumped. “I want to, Nadine. Come on.”

She knew she should resist him, that taking a ride alone with him would be emotionally dangerous. If she didn’t heed the warnings of her mother and her classmates, she should at least listen to the erratic, nearly frightened, drum of her heart. But she didn’t.

He tugged gently on her arm, helping her to her feet, and before she could come up with a plausible excuse, he was helping her into the boat.

“Hey!”

Ben’s voice sounded far in the distance as Hayden yanked off the anchoring rope and opened the throttle. The boat took off with so much force, Nadine was thrown back into her seat and her hair streamed away from her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ben, running barefoot along the dock, yelling at the top of his lungs and waving his arms frantically. Served him right for ogling Patty Osgood!

“Nadine! Hey! Wait! Monroe, you bastard...” Ben’s voice faded on the wind.

Nadine laughed over the roar of the powerful boat’s engine. Turning, she waved back and forced a sweet smile onto her lips. Ben motioned with even more agitation and Patty, left on the blanket, was frowning darkly, probably because Ben’s attention had been ripped away from her. Too bad. Nadine laughed again before she slid a glance to the boy...well, man really, standing at the helm. The wind blew his hair, revealing a strong forehead with a thin scar, chiseled cheekbones and a jaw that jutted slightly.

“Where do you want to go?” he shouted over the wind.

She lifted a shoulder and hoped that he couldn’t see through her sunglasses to the excitement she knew was gleaming in her eyes. “You’re the captain.”

His white teeth flashed against his dark skin. “If you don’t state a preference, you’ll have to accept my decision.”

“I do.”

He laughed at that and the deep, rumbling sound surprised her. “Hope you’re not disappointed.”

She considered the rumors she’d heard about him, but dismissed them all. She felt carefree and a little reckless as the boat sliced through the water at a speed fast enough to bring tears to her eyes.

He followed the shoreline, turning back on the path they’d taken. On the south side of the lake, they passed by the old bait-and-tackle shop and the dock where Ben’s boat still rocked with the waves. Ben was standing at the dock and his expression was positively murderous. Nadine smiled back at him. They passed the public park and moorage, as well as the old summer camp and chapel. Following the curve of the shoreline, the boat sped along the north bank, the rich side of Whitefire Lake. Nadine caught glimpses of huge mansions nestled discreetly in thickets of pine and oak. Boathouses, patios, tennis courts and swimming pools flashed by. Every so often a private dock fingered into the clear water.

“You probably wonder why I’m driving this—” he said, motioning toward the boat, as if suddenly a little self-conscious.

“It’s yours?”

“My father’s,” he admitted with a grimace, and then, as if guessing her next question, added, “Even though I didn’t want the Mercedes, this is different. I can use the boat without having to worry about having any strings attached to it.”