From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do''. Karen Rose Smith
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history is private. To answer your question—yes. I think that was one of the reasons we were close, even though I only saw them summers when we were growing up. We shared a difficult experience, and I guess it created a bond between us.”
A country ballad began playing on the jukebox. Dillon nodded to the familiar melody. “I think this conversation’s gotten a little serious. Would you like to dance? I can slow dance much better than I can line dance.”
She hesitated, knowing she should say no. But the urge to feel like a desirable woman again was strong. “Yes, I would,” she replied.
Before she could rise to her feet, he was behind her chair, helping her up. He definitely was a gentleman … or a good pretender.
The dance floor was crowded and that made her feel more comfortable for some reason. No one she knew was in sight.
She had to admit that she’d imagined Dillon holding her. But the real deal was something else entirely. As soon as his arm went around her and his large hand took hers, she knew she was indeed in trouble. He was at least six inches taller than she was—the top of her head just came to his nose. In his arms she could feel the strength of his muscles. Did he work out? At dinner he’d told her he tried to go riding many mornings. To top it all off, at this time of day, his jawline was becoming slightly stubbly. The scruffier look suited him.
When she looked up and her gaze collided with his interested brown eyes, nerves in her body tingled—nerves that she didn’t even know she had.
Too much … too soon … too fast.
After taking a deep breath, she eased away from him slightly to start another conversation. It was the only way she could distract herself from what was going on in her body, let alone the fantasies in her mind. He didn’t try to hold her close, but kept his eyes on hers as she moved away. Those few inches mattered a lot. She could breathe a little easier. And think. What was wrong with her tonight? She’d been so calm and cool-headed ever since Scott.
“You said your mom took over your dad’s business,” she began. “I think that’s wonderful.”
“Lots of men in the company didn’t share your opinion, but she made it clear they either had to come aboard with the program or they’d be gone.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“I have four brothers and one sister.”
“Wow! Your mom handled all of you and a career, too?”
His silence told her this wasn’t a question he was comfortable with, yet he didn’t duck it. “Two years after my dad died, my mom remarried. Peter was working on the rig when my dad fell. He helped her through all of it and they got close.”
His hand ruffled through the waves on her shoulders and she wondered if he did it to distract her. If he did, he was succeeding. “Today’s the first time you’ve worn your hair down,” he noticed.
When she kept it tied back or in a chignon, she felt more professional. But this morning, she’d been running late. “I was a bit rushed this morning so I let nature take its course.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to recall them. Nature. Attraction between a man and a woman was exactly what was going on here. They both knew it.
Dillon’s thumb played teasingly against hers. The sensual sensation raised her temperature a couple of notches.
So she tried again with conversation. “Are you planning to spend much time with your cousins, now that you’re here again?”
“Back to that, are we?” he asked teasingly.
“I’m just curious. There are so many stories floating around about Dax and D.J., their feud, their fistfight, the women they married. Were you part of all that?”
“No, I wasn’t. I was busy establishing my practice.”
Again something that she couldn’t decipher passed over his expression.
But he continued, “We did have a family reunion in June and we had a great time.”
“Do they have children?” She shouldn’t have asked, but she might as well know where he stood on that subject.
A shadow crossed Dillon’s face. “Dax has a six-year-old and a two-year-old. D.J.’s little boy is two, also. I haven’t been around them much. But I’m looking forward to some time with them while I’m here.”
Dillon’s tone didn’t match his words. He was being polite about it.
Erika’s blood felt like ice water. All she could think was that he was another man who didn’t like responsibility. He was another man who thought fatherhood would be a burden. He was another man who would be a mistake if she saw him again.
What was she doing here with Dillon Traub?
For the rest of the dance, she didn’t look him in the eye. She pretended he could be any one of the men on the dance floor—no one special, no one sexy, no one who made her heart beat much too fast.
When the song ended, Erika was relieved, but Dillon didn’t let her pull away. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I just remembered—” No, she wasn’t going to make an excuse. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “I have to go, Dillon. Thanks for dinner but I do have to go.”
Then she left him standing there, looking puzzled as she walked away. And when she pushed open the door into the cool September air, she didn’t look back. Her daughter Emilia came first.
And she would never forget that.
Chapter Two
Dillon pulled money from his wallet and flicked it onto the table with his bill. What had gone wrong with Erika?
Just as he asked himself the question, he felt the vibration of his cell phone on his belt. Did someone at the resort need him?
When he pulled the phone from its holder, he checked the screen and smiled. “Hold on a sec, Corey, until I leave the restaurant.”
Outside the door, Dillon took a deep breath, wondering why Erika’s leaving had disappointed him so deeply. He didn’t even know her. He shouldn’t even think about knowing her. He was here for a month, then he’d be gone. Besides that, she had to be twelve or thirteen years younger than he was. Maybe that was the whole problem. She decided she’d rather be out with someone her own age.
Now, however, his mind went to his brother, holding the line from Midland, Texas. “Okay, now I can hear,” Dillon said. “I was at the Hitching Post. You know how noisy that can get.”
Corey laughed, a good old Texas chuckle. At thirty-three and six feet tall, with light brown hair and brown eyes, his brother was the epitome of a Texas male. As a management consultant, he dressed stylishly when he chose to, but he was most at home in his boots and jeans. He’d spent some time with Dillon, their cousins and friends at the Hitching Post in June.
“What were you doing at the Hitching Post?” Corey asked. “Don’t tell me you were trying to pick up somebody at happy hour?”
Corey enjoyed women’s company and didn’t understand why Dillon still didn’t date.
He and his brother had always been honest with each other. Although Ethan was between them in age, Corey and Dillon thought more alike on subjects other than women and had gotten to be better friends the older they’d grown.
So now when Corey asked, Dillon was honest. “I was here with someone.”
There was a pause as if Corey was thinking about that. “With someone? Like the receptionist you met at the resort this summer?”
“You guessed that how?”
“I saw the way you looked at her when she led us to Marshall’s office in June. But