He paused a moment, thinking about it. “Yeah, I guess so. I haven’t always been this way. Being raised by J.D. made a big difference, though. It took a while, but we got there.”
“You lost your parents quite young, didn’t you?”
“Sage was six and I was four. I don’t remember too much about them, but Sage—” Dylan sighed “—he took it real hard. Kind of put himself in opposition to anything J.D. said or suggested from day one.”
“I always wished I had a brother or sister,” Jenna said wistfully, taking a sip of her water.
He found his gaze caught by her actions, riveted by the movement of her slender throat as she swallowed.
“Only child?”
“Only and lonely,” she said lightly, but even so, he heard the truth behind her words.
“Where did you grow up?”
“All over. I was born in New Zealand and grew up there before my mom and dad broke up.”
“New Zealand, huh? I thought you had a bit of an accent.”
“Hardly,” she snorted. “When we heard my mom had died, Dad packed us up and brought us back here to the States. Any accent soon got teased out of me at school.”
“Back to the States?”
“My father’s American. We traveled a bit and eventually I got to settle here in Cheyenne. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Painful history by the sound of things. What she didn’t say spoke louder than what she did. Dylan turned to the hamper in a bid to break the somber mood that had settled over them. He reached past the cooling pads he’d packed around the food and lifted out a couple covered containers. He popped the lids off, revealing in one, sandwiches made with freshly baked whole grain bread, and in the other, a selection of sliced fruit.
“I can promise you I prepared these myself and that I carefully studied what you can and can’t eat in pregnancy,” he said, putting the dishes down between them on the blanket.
Jenna picked up a sandwich and studied the filling. “You mean you washed and dried the lettuce in here yourself?”
“With my own fair hands,” he assured her with a grin. “But don’t tell any of my kitchen staff that or they’ll expect me to do everything myself.”
They ate in companionable silence and Dylan quietly cleared up when they were done.
“Tell me why you’ve never been on a picnic before,” he suggested, interrupting her contemplation of the lake’s beauty.
She remained silent for a while, and so still he began to wonder if she’d even heard him.
“I guess I just never had the opportunity before,” she eventually said, but he could tell she was leaving plenty out of that trite little answer. “It’s nice, though. Thank you.”
He’d have to be satisfied with that, he told himself, and filled in the gap in conversation that followed with his own tales of the times he and Sage had raided their aunt’s kitchen to take a picnic outdoors. He loved it when he made Jenna laugh. It lifted the shadows from her eyes and showed a different side to her than the one that constantly met him head-on and tried to thwart his every attempt to spoil her.
It wasn’t much later that Jenna lay down in the sunshine and closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds. The day’s temperature was still pretty mild, but the wind had a bite in it, so Dylan got his sweater from the trunk of the car and gently put it over her as she slept.
He stretched out beside her, wishing they had the kind of relationship where he could pull her into his arms, curl around her body and keep her warm with his heat alone.
All in good time, he assured himself. All in good time.
* * *
Jenna woke with a shiver as a shadow passed over the sun. She opened her eyes to see a cloud sailing overhead. She realized that she had something covering her and lifted it to see what it was. Dylan’s sweater? When had he done that? A warm sensation filled her at his consideration.
For a minute or two she just lay there, absorbing the sounds of the insects and birds, and relishing the peaceful surroundings, before she became aware of a deep steady breathing that came from close by. She turned her head and saw Dylan lying on his back beside her. Well, that answered one question, she thought. He didn’t snore. His arms were bent up under his head and even in sleep the latent strength of his biceps were obvious. She observed the steady rise and fall of his chest. His T-shirt had risen above the waistband of his jeans, exposing just a hint of his lower belly.
At the sight of his bare flesh a tingle washed through her, and her fingertips itched to reach out—to touch and trace that line of flesh with the faint smattering of dark hair. She didn’t dare give in to the temptation, though. Things were already incendiary between them. They didn’t need any further complications and right now, to her, a relationship with Dylan was a complication she’d rather avoid.
She looked past him to the Caddy, sitting in all its shiny glory under the trees.
What kind of man did that? she asked herself. Who on earth bought a classic car on a whim for someone he barely knew from Adam, just because she said it was a dream of hers? The thought triggered a memory of the day her dad had come to pick her up from junior high. They were living in Seattle at the time and he’d rolled up in a brand-new 5-series BMW, looking like a cat that got the cream.
Soon after, she’d met the reason behind the car. His latest conquest had bought it for him when he’d admired it one day as they’d passed a dealership. It was payment, he’d said flippantly, for services rendered. Jenna hadn’t fully understood, at the time, just what he’d meant by that. Just as she’d never understood, until she got older, why all the women he dated had at least ten, sometimes more, years on him. Or why he was always turning up with expensive things. Even back then it had made her uncomfortable. It hadn’t seemed right, especially when her dad never appeared to hold down a real job. But her father had just laughed off her concerns when she got brave enough to broach them.
He’d never stayed with anyone for long. All of a sudden she’d wake one morning and they’d be on the move again. Sometimes clear across the country in pursuit of his next happily-ever-after. She’d had no idea that even while he was dating one woman, he was casually grooming up to five others via the internet. Nor did she know that when they’d moved to Laramie when she was fifteen, and she’d shaved her head as part of a school-run fund-raiser for one of their cancer-stricken teachers, that her father would use that picture to create a whole new set of lies to fleece his victims with.
Lies that eventually saw him hauled off to jail for fraud and caused her to be placed here in Cheyenne with Margaret Connell. Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to think about that time—about the gross invasion of her life by the media, the reporters who’d accused her of being complicit in her father’s schemes. She’d been just a kid, with nowhere and no one else to turn to. When child services had taken her, she’d wondered if she was going to end up in prison, too. After all, she had no one else. Her mother was dead. They’d learned she’d died less than a year after she’d left them, choking on her meal aboard ship. And there’d been no other family to come in and pick up Jenna’s fractured life.
Mrs. Connell had been a much-needed anchor and a comfort. For the first time in her life Jenna had been able to stay in one place for more than what felt like five minutes. It hadn’t broken her reticence about making friends, though. Even now she found it a struggle to get close to anyone. She’d learned growing up that it was better that way, better than having to say heart-wrenching goodbyes every time her life turned topsy-turvy again.
She studied Dylan’s strong features. Even in sleep he looked capable, secure in his world. What would it be like to take a chance on him? To just go with the flow and let him take control of her and the baby’s worlds?
Even as she considered it, the idea soured in her mind. And what about when he lost inte
rest and moved on? she asked herself. As her father had moved on so many times? As Dylan himself had moved on from various publicly touted relationships in his life? She wouldn’t do that to her child, or to herself. They were both worth so much more than that.
Self-worth. It was a hard lesson to learn, but it was one Margaret Connell had reinforced every day Jenna had lived under her roof. It was why Jenna could never accept anything that was a facsimile of a real life, or a real love. She’d been there already and she still bore those scars. Probably always would.
Dylan’s eyes flicked open and he turned his head to look at her. “Nice sleep?” he asked with a teasing smile.
“Mmm, it was lovely. Thank you for this. It was a great idea.”
“Even though we had to do it in that?” He nodded over toward the Cadillac.
“Yes.” She heaved a mock long-suffering sigh. “Even though we had to do it in that.”
He rolled onto his side, facing her. “You certain you don’t want it? You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know.”
“No, thank you. I don’t want it. Besides, there’s no anchor point for an approved child restraint,” she said soberly, reminded anew of how much her life, her dreams, would change in a few short months’ time.
“Good point. Maybe I’ll keep it for date nights.”
Jenna felt her entire body revolt at the statement. Here she was contemplating approved child restraints for their baby, and he was busily planning his next night out with some woman.
“Our date nights,” he specified with a wicked grin that told her he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
“We won’t be having any of those,” she said in an attempt to suppress his humor, especially since it was humor at her expense.
“I think it would be good for our kid to see our common interests don’t just revolve around him or her. I’ve seen too many couples lose sight of what they feel for one another when they’re crazy busy with their kids and with work. They lose themselves, and worse, they lose each other.”
His words, spoken so simply, ignited a yearning inside her that made her heart ache. He made it sound so simple. But she knew to the soles of her feet that life just wasn’t like that.
“You’re forgetting one thing,” she murmured. “We aren’t a couple.”
He leaned a little closer. “We could be.”
And with that, he inched a tiny bit nearer and closed his lips on hers.
Seven
The second their lips touched, Dylan knew it was a mistake. If only because they were in a public place and there was no way he could take this all the way. Not here, not right now—even though his body demanded he do so. He should have waited until they were behind closed doors. Someplace where they could relish their privacy and take the time to explore one another fully. Enjoy one another without fear of discovery.
It didn’t mean he couldn’t make the most of the moment, though, and he slid his hand under Jenna’s head, cradling her gently as he sipped at the nectar of her mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, pliant beneath his. A rush of need burst through what was left of his brain, urging him to coax, to plunder, to take this so much further than a kiss. But he held back.
He wanted her, there was no denying it. But he was prepared to take this slowly—as painful as that would be—if that was what he had to do to convince her he was serious.
Jenna’s hands lifted up to bracket his face, and he took that as permission to use his mouth to tease her some more—to open her up and taste her, their tongues meshing, their teeth bumping. How he wished he could see all of her, and touch and taste every inch.
She was pregnant with his child and he’d never seen her naked. Just the idea of it made his nerves burn with raging heat, and urged him to go further. But still he held back, eventually forcing himself to ease away, to create at least a hand span of distance between them. It wasn’t enough. There could be an entire continent between them and it wouldn’t deaden how he felt about her. How much he wanted her.
“Think about it,” he said, rolling away and standing up.
“Think about what?” she asked, looking up at him with a dazed expression in her eyes.
He fought back a smile. Maybe that’s all he’d have to do to convince her they should get married. Kiss her senseless until she simply said yes.
He offered her a hand and helped her to her feet, then picked up and folded the blanket, slinging it over one arm. “Us. Together. You know—a couple.”
She started to shake her head, but he reached up and gently took her chin between his fingers.
“Think about it, Jenna. At least give me a chance to prove to you how good we could be together. Not just as lovers, although I know that will take us off the Richter scale—again. But as a couple.” His hand dropped to the slight mound of her belly. “As a family.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed the cooler and turned and walked to the car. He didn’t want to see rejection in her eyes. Not when he’d realized, even as he spoke, just how much he wanted this. He’d lost his parents when he was only four, Aunt Ellie—his adoptive mother—only three years after that. He was luckier than most. He’d had four parents in his lifetime, five when he counted Marlene as well, and each one had left an imprint of devotion. An imprint so indelible it had made him promise himself that, when he eventually had a family, he would be a part of his children’s lives. They would know the security of parents who loved them unreservedly. He’d had that, and he would walk over flaming gas ranges if necessary, to make sure his kid had it, too.
Jenna appeared beside him, handing him the now empty hamper as he stowed the cooler and blanket in the trunk.
“Will you at least consider it?” he asked, closing the trunk with a solid thud.
She looked up at him, vulnerability reflecting starkly at him from those dark brown eyes of hers. “Okay.”
One small word and yet it had the power to change everything about the life he lived, about the choices he’d made. It should be daunting and yet it made him feel excited on a level he hadn’t anticipated. Made him almost feel a sense of relief that he could, maybe, stop searching for that one ephemeral thing that he’d always felt was missing from a life rich in so much already. The thing he’d sought in travel and women and had yet to find. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets to hold himself back, to stop himself from giving in to the impulse to grab her and twirl her around with a whoop of satisfaction.
“Thank you.”
* * *
The drive back to her home was completed in silence but it was a comfortable one. With one hand on the wheel, he’d reached across and tangled his fingers in hers for most of the journey. It wasn’t something he’d ever stopped to consider before with anyone else but, right now, he felt as if the connection between Jenna and him had solidified just that bit more. And it felt strangely right. By the time he dropped her off and saw her into her house he was already formulating plans for tomorrow. Plans that most definitely featured Jenna Montgomery.
Monday morning, the smell of fresh paint and new carpet filled Dylan’s nose the moment he strode in through the front door to check on progress at the restaurant and was pleased to see the delivery of the new furniture was well under way. He stopped a second to inhale the newness, the potential that awaited. The excitement that had thrummed quietly inside of him built to new levels. It was happening. He’d felt excited about each of the previous three Lassiter Grills to date but this one was even more special to him than the others.
Hard on the heels of his excitement came a thrust of regret that J.D. couldn’t be here to see their dreams become a reality. It was still hard to accept that his larger-than-life, hard-as-nails father figure was really gone. At moments like this, it was that much worse.
God, but he missed that man. And as much as he grieved for J.D. with a still-
raw ache, he owed it to the old man to make sure that everything about this new restaurant would match, if not eclipse, their existing venues. That meant keeping up his hands-on approach to business and proving that J.D.’s faith in making him CEO of the Lassiter Grill Corporation was well founded.
With a nod of approval, he walked past the massive polished wood bar to the double doors that led into the kitchen. As much as he loved the front of the restaurant, this was the hub of what made the Lassiter Grills great. This was where he belonged, amongst the stainless steel countertops and the sizzle and steam and noisy organized chaos of cooking. The last of the equipment had been installed a week ago and his team had spent the past week trialing the signature dishes that would be specific to the Cheyenne steak house, along with the much loved menu that made the Lassiter Grills so popular in L.A., Las Vegas and Chicago.
It was ironic, Dylan thought as he surveyed the hand-picked team, that he’d spent the better part of his adult years running away from responsibility and family commitment and yet in the past five years he’d embraced every aspect of both of those things. Clearly, he was ready to settle down.
The very idea would have sent a chill through him not so long ago but over the past few months, well, it had tickled at the back of his mind over and over again. Maybe it was losing J.D. so suddenly that had made him begin to question his own mortality and his own expectations of life. Or maybe he was finally, at the age of thirty-five, mature enough to accept there was more to life than the hedonistic whirlwind that had been his world to date. It was a sobering thought.
Satisfied that his staff had it all under control, he drove over to Jenna’s store. He pushed the door open and stepped in, his nostrils flaring at the totally different scents in the air, compared to those back at the Grill. As before, there was no one in the front of the store, but he could hear off-key humming coming from out back. The humming came closer and he saw Jenna walking through, carrying an armload of bright fresh daisies. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail today, lifting it high off her face and exposing her cheekbones and the perfectly shaped shells of her ears. He imagined taking one of those sweet lobes between his teeth and his body stirred in instant response.
EXPECTING THE CEO'S CHILD Page 6