Sheltered by the Millionaire

by Catherine Mann

  “Unless you intend to spend your life alone, at some point you have to trust again,” Beth said with undeniable reason.

  “I could wait until Evie’s eighteen.” Except after last night’s sex, fourteen years felt like an eternity.

  Her friend stayed diplomatically silent and bit into an apple.

  The noise level in the lobby grew. New voices and a squeal from Evie drew Megan’s attention away from her pity party, thank heaven, because talking was just making her feel worse today.

  She rolled back her chair and stood. “Beth, I should see what’s going on out there.”

  She stepped into the lobby, her eyes drawn immediately to Whit. What was he doing here in the middle of the workday? Then she noticed Evie petting a golden retriever. Megan’s instincts went on alert at the thought of her daughter petting a possible stray with an unknown vaccination history. Except then she saw the dog was wearing a “service dog” vest. What did all of this have to do with Whit’s arrival?

  He turned to face her—and he wasn’t alone. A sleekly pretty woman with dark hair stood at his side. Jealousy nipped. Hard.

  Megan smiled tightly and knelt beside her daughter. “Sweetie, that vest means this is a working dog. We don’t touch dogs with this special vest.”

  Her daughter—dressed as a Ninja Turtle today—grinned. “I asked. She said it was okay and Mr. Whit said it was okay. He brought the dog for my preschool class.”

  Megan glanced up at him, confused. “What’s going on?”

  Whit set his Stetson on the receptionist’s desk. “I talked to the day-care director about bringing in a therapy dog for the kids given all they went through with the tornado. The local school psychologist recommended this group in Dallas and contacted the other parents to clear it. I said I would check with you to save her a call, and well, here we are. The dog handler said she’s even interested in evaluating the dogs here for training.”

  Introductions were made in a blur and the next thing she knew her wonderfully intuitive friend Beth was offering to walk the dog handler—Zoe Baker—back to the play yard.

  Megan’s head was spinning in surprise. Of course it was a great idea, but having someone take over decisions for her daughter so totally felt...alien. But there wasn’t much she could say since he’d gone straight to the school and she didn’t want to cause a scene that would upset Evie.

  Still, she ducked her head and said, “Could we talk for a minute. Alone.”

  Miss Abigail knelt beside Evie. “Would you like to come with me to play with the cats? Your mom told me a new litter of kittens was just brought in.”

  Evie skipped alongside Abigail with a new spring in her step Megan hadn’t seen in a month.

  Whit swept his hat off the desk and followed Megan to her office. “I meant this to be a surprise, to show you I care about you and Evie, that I respect your work with animals.”

  “Okay,” she said cautiously, “but why not consult me? This is my child. And animals are my area of expertise.”

  He scratched his head, wincing. “You’re right. I should have. I was thinking about Evie’s fear of going back to school and then I saw this article about the group in Dallas and I got caught up in the moment wanting to surprise you. Like with the catnip.”

  “This is a much bigger deal than catnip.”

  She couldn’t help but feel defensive. “I don’t want to push her before she’s ready.”

  “Hey,” he took her shoulders in his hands, “I’m not questioning your parenting. Thinking of her made me wonder about the other kids. So I spoke with some of the dads at the Cattleman’s Club and asked if their kids were having trouble this past month. This is for all of them. Not just Evie.”

  “You talked to the other parents...about their children?” Her lips went tight, anger nipping all over again.

  But she couldn’t help but remember how carefully he’d studied the instructions for taking care of Tallulah. Thinking about that kind of thoughtfulness applied to her daughter touched her. “Which other children?”

  “Sheriff Battle said every time his son hears a train he thinks the tornado’s coming back.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands. “When I saw that article about therapy dogs going into nursing homes and schools, it got me thinking. Ms. Baker uses shelter dogs, which I knew would be appealing to you. I even learned there’s a difference between service dogs, therapy dogs and emotional support dogs. Anyhow, what do you think? Aside from the fact I’ve been pushy, when I should have consulted you.”

  “I actually think that’s a great idea. I’m kicking myself for not thinking of it.” She sagged back against the edge of her desk. “You sure acted on this quickly.”

  “You’ve had your hands full. And I figured why wait. The day-care staff is expecting us this afternoon. I’m hoping Evie will be excited to take the dog to show off to her friends.”

  “I still wish you’d consulted me. We talked about this yesterday.”

  He flinched. “Guilty as charged and I truly am sorry. It seemed like a good surprise in my head. Would you have said no if I told you?”

  Sighing, she conceded, “Of course not.”

  But that wasn’t the point.

  He scratched the back of his neck. “My buddies thought it was funny as hell that I was asking about kid stuff so word got around fast. The press is involved now too, planning to cover it. I figured it would be a good chance to talk about shelter dogs and how full your rescue is.”

  And he’d done all this for her when she’d given so little of herself in return. She’d just held back and questioned and worried. “You’re really going all out to win me over.”

  “Busted.” He slid his arms around her waist. “I want to be with you.”

  She toyed with his tie and knew he wouldn’t give a damn if Evie painted it with jelly. “I’m still the same pain-in-the-butt person who’s fighting with you over what parts of Royal you choose to develop.”

  “And I’m still the same guy who’s going to argue there’s a way around things.”

  “We’re going to argue,” she said with certainty.

  “At least you’ll be talking to me rather than ignoring me.”

  “Hey,” she tugged his tie, “you ignored me too.”

  He tugged her loose ponytail in return. “I gave you space when it looked like you were going to cause a scene.”

  Before she could launch a retort, he kissed her silent, and this man knew how to kiss. Her arms slid around his neck and she knew without question he was a good man who would try like hell for her.

  Which was going to make this hurt so much worse if it didn’t work out.

  * * *

  Whit was mighty damn pleased with how the therapy dog issue had shaken down.

  He stood in the back of the Little Tots Daycare classroom with Megan while all the kids sat in a circle on a rug. The town had done an amazing job at getting the facility functional quickly so the children could get back into a regular routine, the kind of reassurance they needed after such a frightening event.

  Their teacher was reading them a book about tornadoes. The golden retriever was calm, but alert, carefully moving from child to child as if knowing which one was most in need of comfort, whether with a simple touch of his paw or resting his head on a knee, or just letting a dozen little hands burrow in his fur.

  As the teacher closed the book, she looked up at her students. “What do you think about the story we just read?”

  Beside Evie, a little girl with glasses admitted, “I was scared.”

  “Not me,” said the boy in tiny cowboy boots sitting on the other side of Evie.

  “Yes, you were,” the girl with glasses retorted. “You were crying. I saw you wipe boogers on your sleeve.”

  Evie raised her hand until the teacher called on her.
“I was scared,” Evie said. “I told my mom I held Caitlyn’s hand ’cause she was scared. But it was really me. I was the fraidy cat.”

  The retriever belly crawled over to Evie and rested his head on her leg. Evie rubbed the dog’s ears, her eyes wide and watery.

  The teacher leaned forward in her rocking chair. “We were all afraid that day. That’s why we have the drills. So we know what to do in an emergency.”

  Evie kept stroking the dog and talking. “What if another tora-na-do comes to our school? What if it hurts Mommy’s car again, ’cept it gets Mommy too?”

  Megan started to move forward, but Whit rested a hand on her arm. It was hard as hell for him to hear the little imp’s fears too, but she was talking. Thank God, she was talking. Megan’s hand slid into his and held on.

  The teacher angled forward, giving all the right grown-up answers that Evie took in with wide eyes, both her hands buried in the dog’s fur.

  Evie kept talking, but she smiled periodically. Something that didn’t happen often.

  Megan’s chin trembled. “This is so incredible to watch,” she whispered.

  “I wouldn’t have even thought twice about the article if not for you.” He ducked his head to keep their voices low so as not to disturb the class. “You do a good job educating about your work at the shelter.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

  “I knew about service dogs for the disabled and I’d heard there were studies showing that owning a pet lowers blood pressure.” He scanned the group of little ones up front with the dog. “But this is a whole new world.” In more ways than one.

  “I think of it all as the balance of nature.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Taking care of our resources.” She looked up at him pointedly.

  “Hey, I’ve started recycling water bottles and cans because of you.”

  She clapped a hand to her chest. “Be still my heart.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I happen to think that was a very romantic gesture on my part.”

  “It is sweet. But you would be wise to remember, sometimes I don’t have much of a sense of humor when it comes to things like this. You just caught me on a good day.”

  “Fair enough.” He had a feeling there was a lot more to learn about Megan before he could banish the wary look that still lurked in her green eyes. “I will keep that in mind.”

  He glanced at his watch, and damn, he was running late. When he woke up this morning, he hadn’t thought there was a chance in hell he could get through the day of Craig’s memorial service without a bottle by his side. But Megan and Evie had given him a welcome distraction. They were good for him.

  “Do you have a meeting?” she asked.

  “I need to go home to change and get some things together for Craig’s memorial service.”

  She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh God, Whit, I’m so sorry. How selfish of me not to think about how difficult today is for you.” She touched his shoulder lightly. “What can I do?”

  “This helped keep my mind off things.”

  “I’ll meet you at the church.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I want to be there for you.”

  He brushed his hand along her back, which was as much contact as would be appropriate here in a classroom full of kids. But he knew how tough it was for Megan to spend time away from her daughter and appreciated her being there for him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  This wasn’t a day when he could feel joyful by any means, but suddenly the weight didn’t seem as heavy.

  * * *

  Since her parents’ death, Megan had avoided funerals and memorial services, but she’d wanted to be here for Whit. As she stood in the church vestibule with Whit after the service, she was relieved it was over, and certain that attending had been absolutely the right decision.

  It had been emotional experience for everyone. Not just mourning their friend, but also remembering that fateful day all their lives had been forever changed so quickly. Paige Richardson’s husband was taken from her in an instant.... A thought that had Megan reaching for Whit’s hand.

  Whit’s words about his friend had brought tears to her eyes, reaffirming how important it was to be here for him. He was trying so hard and there was danger in a relationship that was too one-sided. It wasn’t fair to him.

  At least the service had been in the evening so she wouldn’t be spending as much time away from Evie. Her daughter had been excited talking about going to preschool tomorrow. She’d chattered about her friends and all the fun activities coming up for December.

  Megan stood silently at Whit’s side while he gave his condolences to Craig Richardson’s widow Paige and his twin brother Colby, who’d returned to town from his home in Dallas.

  Everyone was making small talk, doing their best to hold it together. Then Whit took her elbow and guided her outside, shouldering through the crowd and into the chilly night full of stars. In the dark, the scars from the storm didn’t show. It was almost if it never happened. Except tonight reminded her too well it had.

  She tucked her arm in his. “Are you okay?”

  “Hanging in there. It’s hard to believe he’s been gone for over a month.” Whit sighed, cricking his neck to the side as they walked to his truck.

  “Did I hear right that R&N Builders is helping out with the reconstruction?” Colby Richardson and Whit’s friend Aaron Nichols were partners in the business.

  “You did. Colby has offered all the services of his very successful company to help,” Whit confirmed, although his forehead was still furrowed over what should have been a good piece of news.

  “I’m sure you’ll be glad to have more time with your friends, especially now.”

  “Hmm.”

  She squeezed his arm as they walked. “Something’s bothering you?”

  “The whole evening is just surreal. Especially seeing Colby with Paige.”

  “Because Colby is Craig’s twin?”

  He shook his head. “Because Colby and Craig each went out with Paige in high school. There is still a lot of tension between Colby and Paige.”

  “It must be difficult for her to have him around reminding her of her dead husband.”

  “Maybe so.” He nodded, stopping beside his truck and opening the door for her. “Tonight sure makes a person think hard about what’s important.”

  “That’s an understatement.” She climbed inside, thinking back to the first time she’d sat inside this vehicle, terrified for her daughter.

  He settled behind the wheel without starting the truck. “It meant a lot to me to have you here.”

  “Of course I was here for you.”

  He stretched his arm along the seat, his fingers toying with her hair. “I think we both know what we have going is about more than sex.”

  His words stirred up a flurry of nerves in her belly. “Are you saying you’re thinking about happily ever after and white picket fences?”

  “I’m saying you mean something to me.” He angled toward her, his eyes intense in the darkness. “And yeah, that scares the hell out of me, but this isn’t casual. Not for me.”

  “Well, it scares the hell out of me to think about letting a man in my life again.” As terrified as she was to say the words out loud, tonight had reminded her there were no guarantees in life. She linked her fingers with his. “But it scares me more to think about not trying at all.”

  Eleven

  Whit couldn’t remember being this nervous—and genuinely pumped up—about a Friday night date.

  But then he’d never proposed to a woman before.

  The diamond solitaire damn near burning a hole in his suit coat pocket, he shifted gears on his
Porsche as he drove through Royal with Megan at his side. They weren’t hiding out in some tucked away place. He’d chosen a restaurant near his Pine Valley home, where the odds of running into friends were high. Megan had agreed. The whole town knew they were dating. Evie had accepted him into their routine this past week.

  And soon, everyone would see the ring on her finger.

  Things were moving fast, sure, but during the week since Craig’s memorial service, Whit had felt as if he and Megan had lived two lifetimes together. Their lives fit together. More than fit. They were good together and he didn’t want to lose that. He’d been searching his whole life for a steady home life to build a family. Megan was the perfect woman for him.

  Steering through the night streets, he noted the Christmas lights just beginning to crop up in windows and could see the efforts to rebuild the town starting to bear fruit. There was still a lot of work to be done, but then couldn’t that be said about life overall? Everything was a work in progress. And he looked forward to meeting the challenge with Megan at his side.

  God, she was gorgeous in a green lace dress, her thick hair swept up into one of those loose kinds of topknots that somehow stayed in place but begged his fingers to set free. She was such an intriguing mix of contrasts. On the one hand, a no-nonsense kind of woman not afraid to get her hands dirty whether she was working with animals or building a compost heap. On the other hand, an elegant woman as comfortable curled up reading her daughter a book as she was dressing up for a five-star evening out. Megan’s confidence didn’t come from a sense of entitlement or wealth. It came from within. From having tackled life head on and made her way in the world.

  He respected that.

  Megan trailed her fingers along the window as they drove past the Royal Diner, still closed due to damages from the storm. “Evie and I used to have supper there on days I would work late.”

  “Amanda will reopen,” he said. “It’s just going to take a while. I hear she and Nathan took out good insurance on the place. With luck the diner will be even better than ever.”

  “Like the hospital?” She smoothed a hand over her green lace dress. “I almost feel guilty getting all dressed up to have fun when there are still people dealing with the chaos of the aftermath.”