The older man smiled. "That's all I want. You'll make the attempt and God will take it from there."
Somehow Drew didn't think God had time to take off from worldly affairs to lend a hand in their dating, but if it made the reverend feel better, that was fine.
"Let me just say, I will haunt you if you take advantage of my daughter in any way. No premarital sex unless you want me making your life miserable from beyond the grave."
Well, that was certainly a nasty threat. Now, he only hoped Chloe never discovered he agreed to date her because of her father. For the first time, he could understand why she became so angry at the involvement of people from the congregation in her life, even when they were trying to watch over her.
Though her father's intentions were well intended, still, Chloe would think of this conversation as interfering. And it was.
"Are you going to tell Chloe about your illness?"
"As I said, not until I have to," he said. "When she learns about the cancer, her life will change, and I want to hold off as long as I can."
The old man was protecting his daughter, but she needed to know. "Don't wait too long."
"At the right time, I'll tell her," he responded.
"Let this meeting be our secret," Drew said, knowing she would be furious if she learned they had discussed him and her dating or that he knew about her father's sickness before she did.
"Agreed."
Chapter 5
Confused and torn about what to do with regards to Chloe, that evening he walked down the street to the Braxton Family Restaurant for a bite to eat.
Staying at the Cupid Love Nest Bed and Breakfast, he tried to avoid Mrs. Underwood and her damn dog as much as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like animals, in fact, he adored the puppy Jim and Shadow were raising. The dog at the B&B, an obnoxious yapping little terrier, controlled the woman to the point he sat in her lap while she fed him.
A balmy spring breeze blew as he strolled to the diner. Until he moved to Dallas, he never realized how fortunate he was to grow up in a small community where everyone knew everyone else. Where kids still rode their bikes through the town square on their way to their best friend's house. And neighbors looked out for one another.
The only thing he missed from his old life was the connection with his friends. Meeting them for drinks and dinner in the evening, talking shop had always been entertaining. Usually during those meetups, he would find himself a nice little chica. But no more, or at least, not here.
Yet part of him wondered if that wild roaming, a different girl every other night was a thing of the past. Funny, he didn't miss that element of his lifestyle.
Stepping inside, he glanced around and observed the lateness of the hour. Most people had eaten, gone home, and were busy getting the children ready to bed. Having no babies of his own would be a disappointment. He liked kids and promised himself he would be a great uncle.
In the corner at a table all by herself, he saw Chloe, bent over paperwork. Her blonde hair spilled over the data she absorbed, her empty plate pushed to the side. His chest ached with the knowledge her father had imparted about his impending death. The urge to protect and shield her from the pain she would suffer overcame him.
If possible, he would spare her this hurt, but this was out of his control.
Stunned, his stomach roiled at the emotion as he walked toward her, knowing he had to see her, talk to her, be with her and even ask her out on a date.
Six months wasn't long, but maybe it would only take two or three dates and he would know for certain he was still never marrying. Then he could explain to her father.
"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked standing over her.
Like she'd been in a daze, she looked up and he almost laughed. This must be how he looked when he pulled an all nighter during finals week.
"No. I'm working on your plans now."
"What about my house? What are you changing?"
"Finalizing details like where wires should be run for the Internet, plumbing questions. A place for the washer/dryer. Tweaking things. This is actually the part I enjoy. Creating the design and putting a plan into action to make it come together."
Nodding, he beheld how much she enjoyed her job. Engrossed in her work, she hadn't looked up until he stood next to her.
"We need to make a trip to Fort Worth and go to the store and choose your light fixtures. While we're there, we could look at flooring," she said once again making notes on the floor plans.
Looking at him, she smiled, her blue eyes dilated almost like she was excited. With a jolt, he wondered what she would look like in the throes of passion.
"What if we make a weekend of it. Drive up on Friday night. Pick out fixtures and later hit some of the art museums. A famous architect, Louis I. Kahn, has a showing at the Kimball, or we could visit the Modern Art Museum, or the Amon Carter Museum. Your choice."
A frown crossed her forehead. "Two separate hotel rooms?"
"I'd rather we stayed at my apartment - there's two bedrooms. I haven't let the lease go, because I'm still working on a case in Dallas and really don't have a home to move into."
Did she realize he was asking her out on a date? Or did she just think this was business? Though he accepted it was to his advantage for her to think this was for the house, part of him wanted her to understand, this was a bona fide date.
Staring at her, he could almost see her weighing her options in her mind and knew she was tempted. Dating her would be so much easier if he’d never told her the truth about his intentions--about his unwillingness to marry.
Yet, after the Cupid dance, he wanted to be honest and let her know right up front his beliefs on the superstition and marriage.
Licking her lips, she smiled. "It's best to order this stuff early or it won't be here when we're ready for it. Yes, I'll go with you to Fort Worth and we can spend the night in separate rooms at your apartment.”
“Good. I'll pick you up at six on Friday."
After this weekend, he'd have a clearer picture if he planned to continue dating Chloe. No woman had ever lasted much longer after spending so much time together. Usually, once they spent the night, his curiosity was abated. Normally that included three days of robust sex, but he doubted that would happen.
"Remember, this is our secret. My surrogate mothers wouldn't understand me staying the night with the bad boy of Cupid."
With a smile, he thought about her father. "Our secret."
When they drove into Drew's apartment building, Chloe was surprised at the lavish style. Located in downtown Dallas close to his old office, the complex was designed for upwardly mobile younger tenants. After they parked his Ferrari in a well lit, guarded parking garage, he used a key card to enter.
As they walked in the door of his unit, the warm furnishings, fine décor, and the rich paintings stunned her. The place looked gorgeous. Dropping the stack of mail on a granite kitchen counter top he showed her around.
"Your room is right through here and you have your own bathroom," he said, showing her the guest room with its queen-size bed, dresser, and chest. Lamps graced the end tables and the place was sophisticated and well decorated.
"Which girlfriend was your interior designer?"
His brow furrowed in a frown. "Sorry to disappoint you, but my mother came up and we spent a weekend decorating my apartment."
"Sorry," she said, feeling guilty for assuming the worst. The memory of him working with his mother to put his home together must’ve been bittersweet.
"The first and last time she came to visit," he said. "Now I'm sure Mom would be thrilled to learn I moved back to Cupid. And she would love that I purchased her childhood home."
With a plop, he sat Chloe's overnight bag on the floor. They decided to return late Saturday afternoon to Cupid because Sunday was a busy day for Chloe and for Drew, as well.
A question that bothered her for some time popped out of her lips.
"Why aren't you living with Jim
and Shadow. Don't they have plenty of room in that big old house."
"Those two are in full wedding plan mode. Kelsey is helping Shadow prepare her big day. From the B&B, I can walk to work. Once you are all settled, we'll stroll down the street to this little steakhouse I love and have dinner."
A smile flitted across her face. "That sounds nice. Let me change and we'll go."
As soon as he left the room, she quickly opened her suitcase and pulled out the little summer dress she recently bought online. Not that she was dressing up for him, but all she ever wore around him were jeans and a shirt, and on Sunday, it was a conservative outfit.
For once, she wanted to wear something a little sexier. Even if she dressed for him, tonight, the outfit was a rehearsal for a legitimate date.
Freshening up her makeup, she swiped on her lipstick and then hurried out the door.
"Wow," he said when she came out. "You look stunning."
Grinning, she did like his compliments. "So seldom do I have the opportunity to step out in a fun dress. On Sundays, my dress must be conservative or my rectory moms let me know I'm not dressing appropriately.”
His eyes darkened. "Don't let them see that dress or you'll be locked up."
The man's words were like poetry oozing over her like warm oil, making her feel good about her appearance. Tonight, his attire was business casual with a sports coat thrown over his Oxford shirt and jeans. There was no doubt why women flocked to him.
She turned toward the door. "Come on, I'm starving."
"Oh, and the woman has an appetite. I like that."
"Sure, says the man who dated enough skinny models to fill the room sideways.”
"Honestly, they're boring. Beautiful little dolls who eat maybe half a cup a meal and drink very little alcohol. Only positive thing I can say about them is sexist. So, I'll keep it to myself."
Smiling at him, she wondered about his life in Dallas. Since his return to Cupid, he hadn't mentioned much about his previous experiences here.
With a shake of her head, she laughed. "You are such a fast man."
"Ah, you're hurting my feelings. Recovering," he said. "I've been celibate for the last six months."
"Oh my, you must be suffering so badly," she cooed in sympathy not certain she believed him. What he didn't know was she had checked, and yes, her bedroom door had a lock. Tonight when she went to sleep, the door would be locked, just to make sure there would be no hanky panky. "I'm sure you have booty calls on speed dial."
Laughter rumbled from his chest. "Don't go there. Come on, let's go before this discussion gets me in even more trouble."
Reaching out, she took his hand. "Are we walking."
"Yes, we're a short block away."
His hand felt firm, his grip sure as they walked out of the apartment and caught the elevator going down. Exiting the building, a cool breeze blew through downtown as cabs honked and cars sped by.
At nine o'clock, the place was bustling. It would be fun to live here for about two weeks and then she would miss the quiet pace of Cupid.
Sometimes it was good to be reminded of what she loved about her small community.
Strolling into the restaurant, the maître d’ greeted him. "Drew, are you back in town?"
"Just for tonight, Jean. Tomorrow we return to Cupid."
The man nodded at her. "Lovely, follow me," he said. "Your table is not occupied."
Chloe followed the man and couldn't remember the last time she had dined in such a fancy place. Linen tablecloths covered the table, dim lighting, soft music, and the ambiance was cozy. Glancing at people as they made their way through the tables, she recognized a local weatherman.
The maître d’ pulled out her chair and she sank onto the cushioned seat.
"A bottle of your favorite?"
"Oh, yes," Drew said.
She glanced at him. "Why do I think you've done this before?"
No matter what happened tonight, she had to remain strong. When he asked her to go with him, she thought it was a business weekend. Over the course of the night, she'd decided it was more. So much more. A trickle of unease spiraled through her.
Uncertain if he was giving them a chance or could he be looking for an opportunity to strip her of her panties. Hopefully she would soon learn the answer.
Regardless, she was going to enjoy the evening.
"You're right." Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it, sending a rush of warmth through her. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were jealous of the women before you."
Laughter erupted from her. Just as the maître d’ brought over a bottle of wine and opened it with a flourish at their table. Last, he poured some of the chardonnay into their glasses and left.
"If I had been drinking, I'd probably spewed all over the table," she said still smiling at the idea she was jealous. That wasn't possible. Oh, she was attracted to Drew, but the man only expected desert and she was champagne.
Drew made the decision not to become romantically involved because of her beliefs. Chloe wanted forever after and refused to play his love games. "Look, I'm not jealous. I don't want to be seen and thought of as one of your many women. Someday I want to be someone's special woman."
Turning over her hand, he rubbed the inside of her palm, sending a delicious shiver through her. The man had the art of seduction down.
"There is no doubt in my mind you will be."
Taking a sip of her drink, she looked at the menu. "Okay, I'm going way out on a limb here. I'm going to be completely different from those skinny minis you date. I want a filet mignon cooked in wine and butter sauce with a baked potato and salad, and for desert, I want the bananas foster with the big flame and everything."
He laughed. "I like an appetite in a woman."
"Don't think I'm having a tablespoon of food."
Leaning toward her, he asked in a low voice, "Tell me again why we're not officially dating?"
Picking up his hand, she smiled. "It's not me. It's you. You're the one who was blatant about not wanting to marry. I'm a girl who requires a ring on it."
"Just my luck. I'm with the most beautiful girl in the restaurant and she has these standards."
Her brows drew together. "Tell me why again. I still don't understand your aversion to marriage."
His hand covered hers and she liked the texture of his skin against her own. Sometimes when he looked at her, his eyes darkened in that sensual stare that sent tremors rippling through her.
"Love is painful. It hurts when you lose someone. Over the years, I've found it's easier to let women know right up front I'm here to play and never get serious."
Nodding in understanding, thinking there was more he kept to himself, she said, "After my mother died, my father grieved for years. Father said he didn't think it was possible to ever find someone to fill the aching void left by my mother. That no one could replace her."
"My mother said almost the same about my father. She would never marry again because no one could be as good."
They sat in comfortable silence for moment while Chloe thought of everything he'd said. "Why do you think love is painful? With all the women who have paraded through your life, has there never been anyone who made you think she's the one? What about children?"
For a moment, she didn't think he would respond.
"I plan on being a great uncle," he said, gazing at her, his emerald eyes warm. "Why is love painful? When someone you love dies, it hurts. We were prepared when dad died and actually felt relieved he no longer suffered. But Mother's death was totally unexpected. And so close to Dad's. After that, I didn't want to feel anything anymore. So, I dulled my emotions by never letting myself get serious with any woman."
Part of her understood his response. Part of her thought he should accept that life and death went together. No one lived forever, but that seemed cruel. Though he talked of his mother and his fast lifestyle, she didn't think he realized how much his words revealed to her.
"You think it's better to
never love, so you don't experience pain? How do you think your mother would feel about your reaction to her death?"
A deep sigh came from him. "Right now, I haven't found anyone I wanted to take a chance to experience love and pain with."
"Understand," she said, agreeing with him. "Me, neither."
A sardonic laugh came from between his lips as he gazed at her, his green eyes sad. "With regards to my mother, the first portion of her lecture would be chewing me out and reminding me of how I'm acting immorally. The second part of her diatribe would be to remind me of my dad and their happiness. The wrap up would be I should find a nice girl and settle down."
How she wished she could tell him about the diary. She already liked his mother even in death. And for her son to recognize her reaction was perfect.
Just then Chloe glanced up and a very thin, beautiful woman had stopped by their table. "Drew, you're back in town?"
"Only for the night," he said, glancing up at her, tensing.
"Is she your latest date?"
"Chloe Kilian," Chloe replied, holding out her hand. "I'm remodeling his grandmother's house in Cupid."
The woman relaxed and drew her fake claws back in. "Anna Provinski, one of his many ex-girlfriends."
"Join us," Chloe said, being friendly and knowing it made Drew uncomfortable. "Tell me all about your experience dating Drew."
She laughed. "A tragic short tale."
Drew, who had been taking a sip of water, made a spewing noise and started coughing.
"Are you all right?" Chloe asked him.
"Dying," he replied. "But don't worry about me."
Anna shook her head. "Thanks for the invite, but my date awaits me." After giving Drew an icy stare, she said, "Call me."
Drew did not respond and the skinny model quickly walked away.
"Awkward," Chloe said, grinning at the discomfort etched on Drew's face. Deliberately, she had engaged and kept the conversation light and easy until the girl accepted she was a companion of Drew's on a business dinner.
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