The Bachelor Project

by Victoria Chancellor

  He pulled off his boots, then his pants. No, he probably hadn’t really been in love yet. But with Robin, he sensed the potential for profound emotion. For extreme want. For overwhelming need. If he gave in to his desires, he might fall hard and fast, and what good would that do? He’d be left brokenhearted and alone at the end of the summer. He balled up his uniform and tossed it into the laundry hamper with unnecessary force.

  Controlling the situation now was the best approach, he told himself as he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. He and Robin would be polite, but not close friends. And when she left, she wouldn’t take his heart.

  ROBIN STEERED HER CART down the produce aisle, her thoughts on colors and textures of the fruit and vegetables—anything that kept her from thinking about how lonely the past few days had been. She missed Ethan with an intensity that was both anticipated and surprising. Oh, she’d known she’d feel sadness that they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, explore the attraction between them. But she hadn’t expected the sense of loss she felt almost every waking moment.

  She was working on his house, but not with him any longer. She was around his things, but not around him. She smelled his scent throughout his rooms, on his belongings, and she wanted to hear his voice and see his face again.

  But she wasn’t going to give in to her desires and use any excuse to spend time with him. Why torture herself? He’d made his feelings clear. As an adult, she needed to respect his right to avoid commitments. To avoid her.

  She was so distracted by her thoughts that she ran her cart into a display of lemons and limes, sending fruit rolling across the linoleum floor like bright bowling balls in search of a target.

  Moaning, she parked her cart out of the way and bent down to gather the yellow and green fruit. She wasn’t in any hurry; she had nowhere to go, no one to see. She just didn’t like the fact that her fascination—and yes, frustration—with Ethan had left her incapable of navigating a grocery store.

  She heard footsteps, but ignored the other shoppers to find the last two limes. One rolled at the touch of her fingertips, coming to rest against one highly polished boot. She reached for the fruit, but the owner of the boot neatly and gently placed it over the lime.

  She realized she was staring at well-creased cotton pants above the black boots. Who wore black and blue together? The police. She moaned, knowing—just knowing—who would be looking down in amusement at her.

  “Ethan,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see him now. She wasn’t ready.

  “Hello, Robin.” He removed his boot from the unscathed lime and hunkered down in front of her.

  His face was close, his familiar scent invading her mind until she couldn’t breath for fear that she’d overload on his presence. A faint shadow of beard covered his jaw, and she imagined there would be just a trace of scratchiness if she placed her palm on his cheek.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “Shopping for a few things Aunt Bess needed,” he replied, nodding toward a hand basket Robin hadn’t noticed earlier. “And we’re in the grocery, not the library,” he added with a touch of amusement. “You don’t have to whisper.”

  She felt a blush start on her neck and creep up her face. To hide her reaction, she broke eye contact and retrieved the lime. “I’ll just finish up here and let you get back to your shopping.”

  His hand stilled hers. “How are you?” he asked, his tone now serious and gentle.

  “I’m fine,” she answered brightly, forcing a smile. “I ran out of a few things and thought I’d go before I forgot. You know how early everything closes around here.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. “Not like the big city.”

  “That’s right.” Robin pushed to her feet, her legs prickling from hunching down on the floor. Or maybe she was just as shaky as she’d been the other day beside the stream, after Ethan had kissed her.

  She didn’t want to believe his mere presence could affect her so. She didn’t want him to have that much power, because she was leaving here in a month and a half—maybe sooner—to go back to her comfortable, familiar life. If she became too close to Ethan, she wouldn’t have any more peace in Houston than she’d had before she left for Ranger Springs. The main difference would be the man she left behind—the man who affected her more than the fiancé she’d dumped after two years of courtship.

  Ethan continued to squat, looking up with piercing blue eyes and a troubled expression. Then he rose and retrieved his basket. “Let me know if you need anything…for the decorating project or whatever.”

  “Of course,” she said, proud that her voice remained level. Ethan would never know how much he affected her, she silently vowed. Admitting her attraction would only make him uneasy, and besides, she didn’t want to humiliate herself.

  “Please, tell Bess hello for me,” she said as she smiled and placed the last lime back in the display.

  Without a backward glance, she pushed her shopping cart down the aisle and away from the man who had the good sense and steely disposition not to get involved.

  BESS CALLED SYLVIA that afternoon and explained the conversation at the Four Square Café, then what she’d seen with her own eyes.

  “I went away, expecting to find them all cozy and involved when I got back. But they’re not! She’s decorating his living room and dining room, but that’s all that’s going on.”

  “Are you sure? These young people can be pretty sneaky.”

  “Look who’s talking! I can’t see that you’ve lost your ability to sneak around.”

  “This is different, Bess.”

  “Of course it is,” she said rather sarcastically. “We’re talking about our great-niece and nephew’s happiness.”

  “Exactly. So what are you going to do?”

  “I want to see them together so I can find out what’s wrong. I think Ethan’s entirely over that last marriage fiasco, but what if he’s not? And poor Robin must still be upset. How did her parents and fiancé take it?”

  “I think they are in denial of how she truly feels. All they saw was the enormous amount of money that was wasted. Forfeited deposits to florists, the band and the country club. The wedding gown. The invitations.” Sylvia sighed. “The wedding was going to be a huge social event for Warren and Robin’s parents. You just can’t imagine what a ruckus her cancellation caused.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about the differences between a small wedding, like the one Ethan’s fiancée had planned, and a much larger one in Houston.”

  “There is a huge difference just in the scale. Add to that the heated feelings involved, and it was a whopper of a mess.”

  “Is there a possibility she hasn’t discussed why she couldn’t marry what’s-his-name?”

  “Warren—but everyone calls him Gig.”

  “And what about Warren? Did Robin talk to him after she broke off the engagement?”

  “No, I’m sure she didn’t. He was pretty upset. I think he tried to convince her that she was just emotional, like all brides. He didn’t want to hear how she felt.”

  “Hmm. Maybe Robin really isn’t ready to move on, then. Maybe we’re pushing her into something she isn’t prepared for.”

  “You may be right, although I still feel sure your nephew would be good for her.”

  “Not if she’s not ready.”

  “What can we do?”

  “I think she needs to talk to her parents. If her fiancé will sit down with her and act decently, then she should try again to explain her reasons.”

  “Easier said than done,” Sylvia said. “I don’t think Robin is ready to come back to Houston.”

  “Maybe the time’s not right.”

  “Maybe,” Bess hedged, “but Sylvia, I’m not giving up on those two.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The invitation to lunch couldn’t have come at a better time. When Bess called her, Robin had just located a good source for the type of custom, square coffee table she wanted for The P
roject. The furniture maker was in Fredericksburg, so she couldn’t go to see him right now. Since the actual renovation was under way, she wanted to make the best use of her time so she could finish quickly. So she wouldn’t be forced to spend hours with Ethan…and want even more.

  Grabbing her purse, plans and keys, she hurried to her car. Bess had asked if Robin would drive them to Bretford House, since her car was in the shop.

  She hadn’t realized until Ethan had clearly expressed his intention not to get involved, how much she missed having at least one friend around. With Bess back in town, the stay in Ranger Springs would go much faster. Perhaps Bess would even like to give her input on the decorating. With Bess’s approval, Robin wouldn’t have to bother Ethan as much. And if they weren’t near each other, he wouldn’t “bother” her.

  Besides, he should like not having to deal with any personal decisions.

  Alone. That’s what he wanted, she thought as she slid behind the wheel. The man would probably find one excuse after another to stay single. After all, he’d claimed he was boring to women! Hogwash, as his aunt would say. He didn’t want to risk his heart again, which was fine with her. She wasn’t about to hope for something that wasn’t going to happen.

  She knew the way to Ethan’s house so well that the trip took mere minutes. There was no car in the driveway, so Ethan was at work. Good. Today, she just wanted to have a friendly visit with Bess, and celebrate finding a good furniture source.

  When Bess answered the door, Robin hugged her, then they set out for the restaurant.

  The tables in the main dining room were sparsely occupied, but the bigger room to the side was full.

  “Is that a club?” Robin asked Bess.

  “The Fourth of July Committee,” Bess explained. “That’s our biggest single event of the year, although the Christmas candlelighting is getting popular, too.”

  Robin smiled. Apparently Ranger Springs wasn’t too concerned about being politically correct. In Houston the appropriate term would be “holiday candlelighting.”

  They chatted about the decorating. They talked about Bess’s friends in San Antonio, about Sylvia, about Robin’s stay in the Franklin house. In fact, they talked about everything but Ethan Parker.

  And then, as if the scene were staged by a Hollywood studio, he walked through the door. His gaze zeroed in on her as he stepped into the room, and her heart skipped a beat. He was coming straight to their table.

  “AUNT BESS, you didn’t tell me you were going out to lunch today,” Ethan said as he leaned down to kiss his aunt’s cheek.

  “I didn’t know I had to report my every move, dear boy,” she chided.

  He straightened and watched Robin sip some water. Hiding her nerves, he would have said about a suspect. But what was she nervous about? Surely she didn’t think he’d have a serious discussion with her in this restaurant…again. Or perhaps that’s what was causing her anxiety—the memory of their trip here a few days ago. Or was she still flustered about their encounter at the grocery store?

  “How are you?” he said. His words came out far more soft and intimate than he intended. He wanted to look his fill, but he had to settle for a casual glance, since his aunt was staring at him. Robin was wearing a floral sundress with straps so tiny that he wondered what she was wearing beneath it. Surely she had a bra on. No one went out to lunch at Bretford House without a bra.

  Damn, he wanted to know, even as he told himself it was none of his business.

  “I’m fine. Bess and I were just talking about the decorating project.”

  “Really?” He turned to his aunt, trying to blank out the image of Robin in a scrap of a clingy dress and nothing else. What were they talking about? Ah, yes: the decorating project. “Robin has some good ideas, don’t you think?” he forced himself to say.

  “Yes, I like what she has in mind. She’s such a clever young woman.”

  Robin seemed uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. “I’m meeting with the committee,” he said, nodding toward the separate room. Just as he had the other night in his house, he needed to get away before he did or said something stupid in front of his aunt and half the town.

  “I hope the plans are going well. Do you know if we’re having those adorable lion and tiger cubs again this year? I thought that was such a good fund-raising idea.”

  “I’m not sure, Aunt Bess. I’ll ask.”

  “While you’re at it, tell them we don’t need a car for every different little miss beauty queen. It drags out the parade too long.”

  “I’ll tell them, although I don’t know why you don’t get on the committee each year. You always have your share of ideas.”

  “Oh, I don’t have time for that committee. They meet far too often for my taste. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  Ethan smiled as he edged backward toward the committee luncheon. “Well, I’d better be going.”

  Robin smiled in that way he’d recognized as phony, although she probably had no idea anyone could tell she wasn’t sincere.

  “It was nice seeing you again,” she said.

  “Same here. Like I said, let me know when you need my approval on something.”

  “I may get Bess to help on some things.”

  “Really?” He was surprised at how disappointed he felt. Was it possible he was looking forward to seeing what selections she made for him? Or did he subconsciously want to spend more time with her, even though he knew logically he shouldn’t.

  Frustrated and confused, he still had to be civil…and bland. Especially for Aunt Bess. She couldn’t guess how much he’d grown to like Robin in the past two weeks. His efforts were minimal at best; he was sure his smile was as artificial as Robin’s. “That’s great.”

  ETHAN ARRIVED HOME to find his aunt folding her laundry. “Getting settled back in from your trip?” he asked as he hung his hat on the peg beside the back door.

  “Actually, I’m getting ready to go on another one.”

  “You’re kidding. You just got home day before yesterday.”

  “I know, but I called Sylvia last night, and she’s rather lonely since Robin isn’t around. She wondered if I could come and visit, and I thought that might be a good idea, with all this decorating going on.”

  “I didn’t want the project to drive you out of your home,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m very glad you’re doing this. I’ve thought for a long time that your living room could use a little more punch.”

  “You never said anything.”

  “It’s not my place, dear.”

  Ethan felt his frustration level rise. Would he ever understand women? Probably not.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “In the morning.” She paused from folding her shorts and tops. “You know, talking to Sylvia made me realize what a drastic step Robin took in canceling her wedding. She must have been very sure of her decision.”

  Ethan went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. “Why do you say that?”

  “Just think about how much would have been involved in a society wedding like the one she must have planned. The florist, the caterer, the dressmaker, the entertainment. Then she had to arrange to return hundreds of gifts. I imagine she was absolutely exhausted when she left Houston to stay here.”

  “I suppose,” he said, frowning at the suddenly bitter taste of the brew.

  “Of course I’m right! Just think of that poor young woman, trying to graciously explain over and over why she was backing out of a match with a young man who seemed to be perfect. All without the support of her family or her fiancé.”

  Aunt Bess had painted a pretty grim picture of Robin’s life right before moving here. But was it accurate? He thought back on what Robin had told him. She’d focused on the positive aspect of not marrying the wrong person. Since Robin obviously came from a wealthy family, he’d assumed her life was a breeze. But did he really know much about her?

  “Well,” Aunt Bess said, interrupting his thoughts, �
��I’d better get these clothes into the suitcase.”

  “Sure,” he responded automatically, unwilling to stop thinking about Robin now that his aunt had so clearly described Robin’s personal pain. Brow furrowed, he leaned against the counter and dangled his forgotten beer, wondering if he’d ever get Robin out of his mind.

  ETHAN PULLED TO A STOP in front of the Franklin house, unsure of the reception he’d receive inside. Robin was apparently home, because her sporty red coupe was parked beside the house. She would no doubt be curious about this visit, but she might also be cool toward him. The question he wanted answered was whether her eyes would light up briefly before she schooled her face into a calm facade. Before she gave him a polite, phony smile.

  Robin probably thought she was good at hiding her emotions, but she hadn’t dealt with an FBI-trained officer before. He’d always been good at reading suspects.

  At the moment, he suspected she’d stolen his heart when he wasn’t looking. Otherwise, he’d be able to exert self-control and get her out of his mind. He’d tried, but he hadn’t been able to forget her soft brown eyes, kissable lips or brave demeanor.

  She didn’t answer until he’d rung the bell twice and knocked several times. When she did open the door, her eyes appeared puffy and her nose pink. She sniffled before greeting him with a simple “Hello, Ethan.”

  She sounded more resigned to seeing him than happy he was there. She seemed sad, and his heart flipped in his chest.

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold on tight. He wanted to know everything she was feeling. The realization was fearsome.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, taking one step closer.

  “Nothing.” She sniffed once more. “I’m just working on a wreath. All the dried flowers and moss and…everything makes me sniffle.”

  “You look like you’ve been doing more than sniffling.”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wasn’t about to admit a weakness, which he could understand. She’d been through so much with her family and friends, topped off by moving to a town where she didn’t know anyone but a meddling older lady and a confused cop.