He sat beside her on the bench, leaned toward her and couldn’t help sliding his hand under her hair. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, Mikala, but it’s damn confusing.” He wanted to kiss her desperately. He needed to feel her in his arms again. It was such a wrenching elemental need that he really didn’t know how to handle it.
“Please don’t look at me that way, Dawson,” she murmured.
“Like I want to kiss you again?”
“I don’t think you know what you want.”
Those words hit him hard and he pulled away from her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hesitating a few moments, she finally answered him. “Your wife died and your world turned upside down. Luke has had problems since then. You’re looking for an escape.”
He was silent a long time, thinking about how he’d felt since he’d returned to town. Was he using an attraction to Mikala to cover up everything else that was going on inside of him? The unexpectedness of changing his life…his turmoil about Luke?
“When are you going to have another session with Luke?” he asked.
“I’ll give him this week at school. Saturday will be good, unless a problem crops up.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do without a problem a day.”
Her smile was slow in coming, but when it did come, it lit up her face. They were back to being Dawson and Mikala—friends. Maybe they could hold on to that label for a while. But sitting here, feeling the heat between them, it didn’t seem too likely.
* * *
It was almost eleven on Wednesday night when Dawson closed his laptop and went to check on Luke. Luke’s door was cracked slightly and Dawson pushed it open. The bedside lamp was still shining but Luke was sound asleep, still wearing his iPod ear buds. He hadn’t said much about school this week though Dawson had tried to get him talking. Maybe his son would open up to Mikala when he saw her on Saturday.
Removing the ear buds and taking the iPod from Luke’s chest, he set them on the bedside table and looked down at his boy, his heart full of everything he felt for him. Sure, he loved him. But there was something so much bigger than that, too…something that made swallowing difficult. He gently laid his hand on Luke’s head for a moment, then turned out the bedside lamp and left the room.
Dawson thought about going downstairs for a snack then reconsidered. Luke still had bad dreams sometimes. He wanted to be there if his son woke up. But the truth was, he missed Mikala. She’d had counseling sessions throughout dinner last night and tonight. There was something he wanted to ask her.
It was late. Would she still be up?
Going to his room, he picked up his cell phone and dialed her number. Half expecting the call to go to voice mail, he was surprised when she answered on the second ring. “Dawson? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Oh, no. I just got out of the shower and—” She stopped abruptly.
But that stop made him wonder what she was wearing. A robe? Anything? Was her long hair wet? Or had she gathered it on top of her head as she’d done once in a while in high school?
Thoughts of high school always brought back memories of the prom. He wondered if the self-protective guard Mikala tried to keep securely in place had to do with what had happened that night. Had she blamed herself for the way Carson Simmons had acted? When Dawson had seen her torn prom dress, the terrified look on her face, he’d wanted to smear Carson against the windshield. Instead, he’d roughly pushed him away from Mikala, helped her out of the guy’s car, swept her into his arms and carried her to his Mustang. Even though that night had happened so long ago, he remembered it as if the prom had been yesterday.
“I won’t hold you up,” he assured her. “I just wondered what your schedule looks like the next couple of days. Or maybe the beginning of next week. I’d like to check out a few houses and I wouldn’t mind having a second opinion.”
With only a slight hesitation, she reminded him, “You’re the expert in construction. I wouldn’t think you’d need a second opinion.” She was fishing for his motive and he did have one.
“This isn’t just about construction. I’m looking for something different than we had before. Not something with so many rooms Luke and I can’t find each other. I want him to feel at home. I guess I want a certain atmosphere about the house, sort of like the Purple Pansy has—that feeling of coming home. I’m not sure walking into an empty house, I’ll realize if it has it or not. You might.”
“You think women are better at that?”
“I think you might be better at it.” After all, he’d already discovered she was the most intuitive and perceptive woman he’d ever met.
Instead of giving him an answer, she asked, “So how is Luke doing at school?”
“He’s not saying much. I ask. He clams up. I helped him with a couple of math problems he seemed frustrated with, then he went to his room and shut me out with those ear buds again.”
“Do you know what he’s listening to?”
“Yes. He likes a variety of musicians and his apps are still wholesome kid stuff.”
“You keep a close watch.”
“I do now,” he confessed. “You’ve had long hours this week,” he commented.
“Some weeks are like that. But I like what I do and it’s my…life.”
She needed more of a life than her work. Even he knew that. It had taken him many years to learn it, but he had, the hard way.
She went on, “I try to keep a few hours free on Friday afternoons. Do you think you could arrange to look at houses then?”
“I’ve been in touch with a real-estate agent. I’ll call her in the morning.”
“I’ll be at the elementary school tomorrow,” she said. “But if you leave a message on my voice mail, or with Aunt Anna, I’ll get it.”
“Will do,” he agreed. He could keep talking to her all night. But a sense of intimacy was already developing between them and a late-night conversation could light too many fires. “Thanks for agreeing to go with me. You get a good night’s sleep.”
“I will,” she murmured. “Good night, Dawson.” She hung up.
He held the phone for a while as if he were holding the sound of her voice. Then he laid it on the bed beside him, still wondering if her hair was wet or dry, if she was wearing a robe or a nightgown, if she was slipping into bed and looking forward to Friday as much as he was.
Chapter Five
Mikala stood in the second house on the Realtor’s list, knowing this one was as wrong as the last one she and Dawson had toured. The first one, an old Victorian, had needed so much work that Dawson and Luke couldn’t have moved into it for at least six months.
As she followed Dawson into the master suite of this almost brand-new house, she realized she’d looked forward to this afternoon all week. But that fluttery feeling in her stomach when she came anywhere near Dawson carried an alert notice with it—Be careful!
The real-estate agent had gone outside to make a call and they’d been left alone to wander so they could get a feel for the place. The woman obviously thought they were a couple.
The house had been staged, and as Dawson glanced around the master suite, the huge king-size bed drew their gazes like the proverbial magnet.
They both looked away.
In quick long strides Dawson went to a closet, opened the door and said, “This house reminds me of the one I left in Fountain Hills. It’s even bigger.”
The wryness in his voice and the furrow in his brow told her there was emotion under the surface.
He peered inside the walk-in closet. “This would be a spare room in a smaller house. Kelly would have had plenty of room for her—”
Stopping abruptly, he quickly strode toward the bathroom.
Mikal
a didn’t know whether to follow or to stay put. However, her instincts guiding her, she went to stand beside him.
The bathroom was practically as big as a bedroom with its marble steps, raised Jacuzzi tub and double shower. The his and hers towels—white with gold embroidery—made a stark comment, pointing out exactly what Dawson was missing in his life—his wife and Luke’s mother.
“Do you like the house?” Mikala asked, just to urge him to talk again.
His answer was practical as well as curt. “It’s well constructed. There were some shortcuts in the finish work. I could take care of that.”
“But?” she prodded.
“I brought you along for the ‘but,’” he responded with a slight smile that really wasn’t a smile at all. He was definitely hiding something…feelings he didn’t want her to see. He added, “What’s your take?”
“It’s a beautiful house, but it’s cold,” she said without hesitation.
He pushed his hands into his jeans pockets. “I can see why you think that. This house isn’t so much sitting here waiting for a family, as it’s just sitting here showing off.”
Thinking that she might have been too blunt, that being with Dawson urged her to be more honest with herself as well as with him, she said, “Maybe you have to imagine it with your taste—your paintings on the walls and the kind of furniture you like, rather than what someone picked out because they thought it was neutral enough to fit anyone.”
He was already shaking his head. “The rooms are too large. The ceilings are too high. That makes the house formal.”
“It is in a great neighborhood.” She was listing the positives, maybe trying to figure out exactly what Dawson was looking for.
“It’s a development with very large houses that just fit on small plots of land. When I sign on with a developer, the architect looks at trying to fit homes into their natural environment. As far as neighborhoods go…” His voice trailed off. Finally he went on, “Neighborhoods mattered to my parents. We moved into the house on Hickory Road when I was ten. My mother was so excited because she thought the neighbors were up and coming or had already arrived.”
Mikala remembered where Dawson had lived in a very nice section of town. But he never talked about it much. Back in high school she remembered thinking she’d known very little about his home life. “You lived near Clay, didn’t you?”
“Sure did. To have a banker as a neighbor made my mom feel important. All I cared about was that Clay and I would live closer together. We were already friends and being able to run in and out of each other’s houses was a kid’s dream.”
“I didn’t realize you were friends before high school.”
“Yep, we teamed up early. We didn’t start hanging out with Zack until middle school.”
Absently Dawson opened the medicine cabinet, closed it again, went to look in the shower, then exited the bathroom into the bedroom once more. Crossing to the bed, he sank down on it. “This house really does remind me too much of our house in Fountain Hills.”
There was so much regret and sadness in his voice that Mikala had to go to him. She sat beside him on the beautifully flowered taupe comforter. “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.
Staring straight ahead at the winter landscape on the wall, Dawson took a little time before answering. “Moving into that Fountain Hills neighborhood mattered to Kelly…and to me, too, I guess. Barrett Construction was taking off and we could live anywhere we wanted. I would have preferred something a little more…rural, but Kelly, like my mom, wanted to live in the right neighborhood with the right people.”
Facing Mikala, he explained, “I want something different now. For me and Luke—” He shook his head. “I don’t care what neighborhood we live in. I just want him to be happy.”
“When you narrow it down, you might want to take him along, keep him involved in the decision-making.”
Dawson glanced around again. “You’re right about that. But narrowing down choices could take time. This house has a lot going for it, but it’s not right for us.”
Mikala touched Dawson’s arm, then almost wished she hadn’t. There was already a connection between them and any kind of physical move toward each other made that connection seem even stronger. “You’ll find the right place. It could just take some looking.”
When he was quiet, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“I haven’t had anyone ask me that in a long while.”
Is that why he kept his thoughts and feelings to himself except where Luke was concerned?
Finally he said, “I was thinking of opening a branch of our company here. But I don’t know if there’s enough business in Miners Bluff to sustain it. I might have to start in Flagstaff—that’s if I want to expand. I really don’t need more to keep me busy, especially not now. But maybe another company in Miners Bluff could give the town a boost and add jobs where they’re needed.”
“You think about that kind of thing, don’t you?”
“I do.”
What were the roots of Barrett Construction? What had happened after Dawson had moved away from Miners Bluff with his mother? Why had his parents split up? They were all questions she still didn’t feel comfortable asking.
Sitting close enough to Dawson to feel his body heat, knowing he’d asked her along for more than just a second opinion, she decided to venture into what might be sacred territory. “Tell me about Kelly. About your marriage.”
He gave her a quick look, and she thought he was going to shut down. But then he turned back to her with sincerity evident on his face. “We were happy at first, even though we married because of the pregnancy. Kelly told me she wanted the same things I wanted—a home and family. She’d lost her parents and was on her own when we started dating. She seemed willing to follow me wherever the company led. But I don’t think she realized how hard I had to work to make it a success. I don’t think she realized that the house, the cars, her jewelry and the neighborhood she wanted to live in came with a cost.”
“The long hours you put in.”
“Exactly. Even after Luke was born, I was still building the company with Dad, adding more crews, expanding our options so we could survive no matter the economic climate. I think Kelly liked being a mother, but I also think she felt trapped by it. Yet neither of us wanted Luke raised by a nanny. Once Luke was in school, she had more free time but it never seemed to be enough. I don’t know. Those last couple of years were…tense.”
“You didn’t talk about it?”
“Oh, Mikala. Communication in a marriage can get tripped up in so many ways. We concentrated on Luke mostly when we were home, and didn’t make enough time for each other.”
They sat there in silence. Mikala wanted to ask a lot more yet guessed Dawson had revealed all he was going to.
“So what kind of place do you really want?” she asked, changing the subject back to a more comfortable one. “The real-estate agent could probably help you better if you gave her more than a vague idea.”
“You’re probably right. But the problem is, I can’t describe what I want. I’ll know it when I see it.”
He was gazing at her in that way he had that was so intensely personal. And the sparks of desire in his eyes made her feel short of breath.
“Mikala,” his voice was husky, almost raw.
She knew what he wanted. But he wouldn’t take it, not unless she gave the signal she was willing. They both remembered prom night. They both remembered the other kisses they’d shared. She could see the need in his eyes, feel it in the tension that crackled in the air between them.
She leaned toward him, ever so slightly. His arm came around her. When she turned toward him, her leg brushed his. His face was so close, his lips simply a whisper away.
She could still pull back. She didn’t have to let t
his happen. But she suddenly wanted Dawson’s kiss more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. He made her feel desired, but safe. That was a potent combination.
As his lips came down on hers, she realized their passion was even more potent. She felt his blazer against her sweater as she inhaled the musky scent of his cologne. She lost her breath as his tongue breached her lips and he was all she cared about in the world. How crazy was that?
Their kiss became a fiery entity of its own. The tip of his tongue played with hers and she lost the ability to think. She lost her inhibitions. She lost every sense of propriety she’d once possessed.
This is crazy, she thought again.
But even crazy didn’t seem to matter. Only the sizzle they were generating. The way she felt in his arms mattered. Their desire became so tantalizing, so feverish that she was hardly aware that he’d laid her down on the bed! He was touching her face, kissing her eyelids, murmuring her name. When she slid her hand under his blazer, she was aroused by the hardness of his stomach, his muscled leanness, his restrained power. Dawson’s hand caressed her breast. His touch was teasing and seductive. She loved the way he made her feel.
Suddenly a voice sailed up the stairs. “Mr. Barrett, do you have any questions?”
Mikala froze.
Dawson tore his lips from hers and swore. He cleared his throat and then called down to the real-estate agent. “We’re just having a last look around. We’ll be right down.”
Mikala just wanted to lie there with her eyes closed, and deny the embarrassment she was feeling. But of course that wasn’t possible. She told herself no one died of awkwardness. But as she pushed herself to a sitting position and glanced at Dawson as he did the same, she wondered if that was true.
After a few beats of silence, Dawson asked, “Are you all right?”
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