by Francis Ray
“My husband thinks so, but it’s always nice to hear,” she told him.
Dillon chuckled. Gloria was a hoot, and he liked to tease her. “I’m going on back.”
She leaned over the counter and whispered, “He just left. He’s a handsome devil, I give you that, but I told him we’d be watching him.”
“Thanks.” Dillon went to his mother’s office and knocked.
“Come in.”
Her voice sounded shaky. She could be upset or … Dillon opened the door. His mother’s cheeks were flushed, her hair slightly mussed. Scratch upset.
She held his gaze, but he could tell she was nervous. She’d never asked for anything from him, done without so he didn’t have to. She’d worked hard to give him a house with a yard, the puppy he’d wanted, the car at sixteen.
Some would say she’d given him too much. As an adult, he realized she hadn’t wanted him to have less or, more important, feel less because he didn’t have a father in his life.
Dillon knew Roman was right. One word from Dillon and she wouldn’t see Roman again. She’d always put Dillon first. Their bond was strong and unshakable. His gaze fell on the bakery box. He lifted the lid, then switched his attention to hers.
“You going out with him again?”
She bit her lip. “Dinner tonight and then a movie.”
He let the lid fall. “I don’t guess I have to tell you to be careful. No parking. If you need me, don’t think. Just call. Home by ten.”
Her smile trembled as he repeated the rules she’d given him growing up. “No.” She glanced down, then up, her gaze troubled and a bit unsure. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
He took her unsteady hands and knelt. “Do you want to go out with him?”
She nodded. “But I don’t want to make a mistake again. We’re just dating, but … I don’t want the town whispering about me when I pass.”
Dillon’s face hardened. “You can’t live your life to please the town. Please yourself.”
She almost smiled, freed her hand to cup his cheek. “Yes, Mother.”
They both chuckled. She’d been the best and, for the lack of a husband, had borne the brunt of the town whispers. He couldn’t change that, but he would help her think of herself for once. And if Roman messed up … “He’s a good man.”
She nodded again. “I won’t have time to fix your dinner.”
“I’ll pick up something. Don’t worry.” He kissed her on the cheek and pushed to his feet. “Have fun.”
“Thank you.”
He stopped at the door and looked back at her. “Thank me by pleasing yourself for once. I’ll make myself scarce if you two want to come in.”
She blushed and tucked her head.
Chuckling, he headed to his truck. He trusted Roman, but it wouldn’t hurt to be there when he picked his mother up.
* * *
“I’m leaving early today,” Dillon announced to Samantha as soon as he came through the office door. “See you tomorrow.”
“It’s just six. You’re supposed to be working on the prototype while I work on the files. We have to be ready Friday.” Sam lifted a brow and folded her arms. “You got a hot date?”
“No, but Mama does with Roman.”
“What?” She snatched her arms to her sides.
Dillon rubbed the back of his neck. “I trust the guy, but…”
“He’s a man, and your mother is a beautiful woman,” Sam said knowingly.
“Yeah.”
Her lips twitched. “I guess the stories about protective big brothers goes double for protective sons, especially those with a reputation like yours.”
“I’m not that bad.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dillon, you’re practically legendary in this county. You probably gave a lot of mothers some hard times. I’d say it’s payback time.”
His eyes narrowed. “If he gets out of line…”
“Marlene can handle him.” Sam folded her arms and leaned against the desk. “Give them a break. You’ll only make her nervous if you’re there.”
“You might be right, but I plan to be there just the same.” He glanced at his watch, then started for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Dillon, you can’t be serious.”
“I’ll stay out of the way.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You could come with me so it would seem more casual,” he suggested. “We could go grab a bite later.”
“As if they need two people staring at them.”
“We could be in the back or something.”
“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes your best intentions get pushed to the back in certain situations.”
She briefly lowered her head. She probably remembered the kiss. “I’ll get my purse, but we’re staying on the terrace until they leave and then we’re going to grab dinner.”
“I’ll just say hi to Mama and then we’ll go to the back.”
* * *
Marlene had changed clothes twice. She didn’t like the way she looked in either outfit. Besides that, her hair refused to behave. In her bedroom, she stood in front of her built-in floor-to-ceiling mirror and considered changing for the third time. The times she’d seen Roman, he’d been in dress slacks and a tailored shirt. He was coming straight from work.
Remembering the wrinkled shirt, she glanced skyward. What was she doing? Maybe she shouldn’t go.
“Mama,” Dillon called, rapping on her bedroom door, “Sam and I are going out back to talk business.”
She came out of the bedroom, wringing her hands. “Hello, Sam.”
“Hi, Marlene. You look fantastic,” Samantha said, catching Dillon’s arm. “We’re going out back.”
The doorbell rang.
Marlene started, glanced at her watch. “That can’t be Roman. He’s ten minutes early.”
“He’s anxious,” Samantha said with a smile. “When he sees you, he’ll be glad he was early.”
Marlene ran her hand over the pale peach sundress. “I—I don’t know.”
The doorbell rang again.
“Dillon, what do you think? Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Marlene said, biting her lower lip. He had yet to say a word. He just stared at her.
“I think you should.” Dillon picked up her handbag from the bed, then went into her closet and came back with a light shawl. “It gets cold in the movies.”
The doorbell rang again.
“In a minute he’ll be banging on the door.” Taking her arm, Dillon led her to the front door and opened it.
“Marlene,” Roman said. “I was afraid … You look beautiful.”
“Have her home at a decent hour. No speeding,” Dillon said to Roman, then to this mother, “Do you have money in case he gets out of line and you need to call me?”
She nodded, finally smiled. “Yes.”
“You have my cell phone. We’re going to Dixie Bell to eat and then the seven-thirty movie.” Roman caught Marlene’s hand and drew her over the threshold. “Good night.”
“Night. Have fun.” Dillon closed the door.
* * *
“I’m proud of you.”
“I’ve never seen her that scared and unsure of herself.” Dillon rubbed a hand over his face.
“A man you care about will do that.”
Turning, he folded his arms and stepped away from the door. “Speaking from personal experience?”
“You promised me food.” She smiled. “Is the Burger Joint on Beacon Street still open?”
“Last time I drove by.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
* * *
“I almost didn’t come,” Marlene said, no longer clutching her purse. Perhaps it was the soft music on the radio that helped calm her.
“I figured as much when no one answered the door.” Roman cut her a quick glance. “I wasn’t sure if Dillon had changed his mind about me.”
“It was me.” Marlen
e laughed nervously. “I wasn’t sure I looked right, then he came home and you were early.”
“Sorry.” He stopped at a signal light. “Guess I was anxious to see you, and scared that if you had too much time to think, you’d back out.”
“If it hadn’t been for Dillon, I might have,” she confessed, finding her muscles relaxing more and more. “That’s the second time Dillon has acted the parent, repeating my words back at me.”
“He probably heard them a lot.” Roman pulled into the graveled parking lot of a long wooden building with an eight-foot plastic heifer in front.
“He did. Dillon liked testing me and rules,” she said. “Sometimes…”
“You wondered if you were doing the right thing,” he finished.
“Yes. I look at him now and think how grateful I am for him.”
“So am I,” Roman said. “He led me to you.”
Marlene flushed.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“Yes. Twice.”
“Just checking.” He grinned, and she grinned back.
He hopped out of the car, then went around to open her door and helped her out. “Any idea what a decent hour is?”
“When Dillon was in junior high, it was nine.”
“I think we’re going to miss it.” His hand closed around her elbow.
Smiling, thinking he might be right, Marlene continued toward the restaurant. The warmth and excitement of his touch wasn’t as scary or unnerving as it once had been.
Out of the corner of her eye, she stole a look at him. Her heart did a hop and a skip. Even in profile, he was an extremely handsome man. His hair might be liberally sprinkled with gray, but his broad shoulders were erect, his muscled build evident in the blue cotton shirt and dark gray slacks.
“Hello, Marlene.”
“Hi, Ms. M.”
Marlene jerked her head around to see Anna Douglas and her five-year-old daughter, April. For a moment, Marlene couldn’t think of a thing to say. She was thrust into the past, when people whispered as she passed. She’d never wanted to have that again.
“Marlene?” Anna and Roman said almost in unison. Her gaze jerked from one to the other. Both wore expressions of concern.
“Are you all right?” Roman took both of her arms, stepping in front of her. “Do I need to take you home?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, but, staring into Roman’s dark eyes, she couldn’t form the word. If he took her home, she knew she’d never get up the courage to go out again, even with Dillon pushing her. She was going to do what Dillon said, what she’d taught him. She was going to live her life.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” She smiled to ease the worry in his face. “I must have had a senior moment.”
He tsked. “Not likely. You’re too beautiful and too vibrant for that to happen. You probably just need to eat.”
“I’ll let you go, then. Bye, Marlene. Hope you feel better,” Anna said, her voice sounding a bit odd.
“I’m not so hungry that I can’t introduce one of my best friends.” Marlene caught Anna’s arm as she started to pass, surprised to find it rigid. The other woman looked up. Marlene saw the hurt slowly fade from her pretty face. Anna had had a bad reputation as an easy party girl before she married when she was five months pregnant.
Some of the people in town refused to let the past remain in the past. She’d had it rough, and still did, since her husband abandoned her and their daughter a year after they were married. She was a good woman who had made mistakes just like every adult. Marlene never wanted her to think that she thought differently.
“Roman, I’d like you to meet Anna Douglas and her beautiful daughter, April. Anna, this is Roman—”
“Santiago,” Anna finished with her usual bright smile, extending her slim hand. “Mr. Santiago, you probably don’t know the women at the plant are keeping track of sightings of you. We actually have the haves and the have-nots.”
Smiling, Roman accepted the hand. “Please to meet you, Mrs. Douglas.” He bent down to shake April’s hand as well. The friendly child giggled. Straightening, he said, “Probably because I’m the newest employee.”
“And…” Anna drew out the word. “You might have other attributes worth checking out.” She switched her attention to Marlene. “See you next week at the book club meeting. Come on, scamp. Let’s go home.”
“Bye, Anna, April,” Marlene called, watching the two head to a beat-up Ford and get in. The engine caught. The soft rumble of a well-tuned car vibrated across the parking lot.
“There are some horses beneath that hood,” Roman said as Anna pulled off with a wave.
Marlene smiled with pleasure. “I tuned it myself.”
Roman stopped, picked up her hands, then lifted his gaze to hers. “And they’re still soft and lovely. Like I first thought, you’re an amazing woman.”
“I think I’m finally glad you think so.”
“Marlene.” He breathed her name, his head lowering, his intent obvious.
It took all of her willpower to step back. “Ah, maybe we should go on in.”
He blew out a breath. “You make me want you and forget where I am. A dangerous combination, and one I intend to thoroughly enjoy.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Let’s go have dinner. Some things shouldn’t be rushed.”
Eleven
Samantha slid into the open-ended booth with her cherry Coke. Dillon hadn’t liked it, but she’d paid for her own food. It had been important to establish that this was not a date. But, man, did he look good in jeans and a chambray shirt. She wasn’t the only woman who thought so. The woman behind the counter could hardly take her order for looking at Dillon. He’d just grinned. Sam had wanted to kick him.
Finished with his order, Dillon started toward the booth she sat in. Samantha didn’t have to look around to know he commanded the attention of every woman in the room—with or without a man. A woman would be crazy to think she could keep the attention of a man who oozed sex appeal the way he did.
Instead of sitting across from her, he bent to slide in beside her. Samantha’s eyes widened. It was move or have him sit on top of her.
“You’re crowding me.”
“Then scoot over.” His hip touched hers, and she quickly complied.
Heat and a strange longing to touch him washed over her. “Why didn’t you sit on the other side of the booth?” Each side easily accommodated three people.
“It should be obvious.” He put his lips on the straw of his Coke.
Samantha couldn’t help but think of his mouth on hers, him sucking on her tongue. Desire rocked through her. How could her body betray her this way? “Well, it isn’t.”
“I can see Tracy when she calls out our orders.” Crossing his long legs, he slouched down on the bench.
“You know her?”
His grin was pure devilment. “She told me her name.”
Samantha had the urge to kick him again or pour her drink over his head to cool him off. Since she needed cooling, she took a long suck on her straw. She felt his gaze on her and looked over. Hot craving stared back at her.
“Numbers twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”
“I—I think she called our numbers,” Samantha said, glad she could form a coherent sentence when all she wanted to do was crawl in his lap and take the kiss her body craved.
“Numbers twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”
“Maybe you should get them.” Dillon took the top off his drink and gulped.
Heat climbed up her neck as the reason dawned for his not wanting to get up. She scooted out of the booth and went to get their food. When she returned, she sat on the other side of the booth. However, as soon as she looked up and their gazes met, she knew she’d miscalculated. It would be worse sitting across from him, looking at what she wanted and couldn’t have.
“Did you call Mark?”
“What?” Mentioning Mark was like throwing a bucket of ice water on her.
“The repor
ter friend.” Dillon picked up a French fry. “Is he on board?”
It took Samantha a moment to notice his hand wasn’t steady. He was as affected as she was and trying to remind them both they had a business-only relationship. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her weakness. For a crazy second, she wished he weren’t being noble again.
She unwrapped her hamburger. “He is. He’s coming in Saturday.”
“To see you or the race?” Dillon asked, not even pretending to eat.
She placed the burger on her tray. “We will not do this. Please. Collins—”
“Has to come first,” he finished for her, picking up his burger and taking a bite. “Can you cook?”
“Yes. Why?”
“If things go the way I think they might between Mama and Roman, they’ll be going out every night, which means she won’t be cooking.”
Samantha eyed him suspiciously. “You can’t be asking me to cook for you.”
He placed his hamburger back on his tray and pushed it away. “It makes sense. You know Mama wouldn’t care about you coming over. I could work on the prototype at the plant, then go over the files with you in the evenings.”
It sounded reasonable, tempting. And risky. “Sorry. I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Probably not.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.
“You’re not eating?”
“It’s not what I want.”
Samantha felt the pull again and tucked her head to eat her hamburger. She was definitely staying clear of Dillon. He was much too tempting.
* * *
Marlene must know half the town, Roman thought. Unlike the other night when they’d gone to eat and were left alone, here people recognized her. Women waved from their tables or as they passed when leaving. If they were near, they stopped for a hug and to give him a critical once-over as she introduced them.
“I’m sorry,” she said after the last woman and her husband walked away. “You’re hopping up and down so much, you haven’t been able to enjoy your meal.”
“I don’t mind the women. But if a man comes over, we might have a problem.”