by Pamela Bauer
She knew he was right, yet Garret’s words echoed in her head. Just before Dylan had come home he’d told Maddie, “The only thing Dylan takes seriously is his work. Mom likes to think it’s just a matter of time before he settles down, but I know my brother. When it comes to women, he’s like a kid who collects sea-shells on the beach—always looking for the next one.”
Not that it mattered to Maddie. She had no plans to become the next seashell. Nor was she under any illusions as to why he wanted to have dinner with her. He was simply tired of being cooped up in the house. He’d made that perfectly clear and she’d seen the advertisements for nightclubs circled in the newspaper. All he was looking for was to be with people, to have some excitement.
It was that last part that made her wary. She wondered just what kind of excitement he expected to find having dinner with her.
She didn’t want to admit it, but it was that very thought that had her saying, “All right. I’ll go with you, but I need to change my clothes. Shall I meet you down here in say, half an hour?”
His eyes gleamed at her acceptance. “Half an hour will be fine. You’ll have a good time, Maddie. I promise.”
CHAPTER SIX
Dear Leonie: There’s this really cute guy who’s been coming on to me. I’m not interested in him because I’m dating this really nice guy who’s more my type. The problem is my roommate likes the really cute guy and the thought of her with him is making me crazy. What’s wrong with me?
Signed: Really Confused
Leonie says: Are you sure you don’t like the really cute guy?
WHEN MADDIE CAME BACK downstairs she had changed into a pink vee-neck sweater and a pair of black slacks. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders.
“You look good.” Dylan hadn’t intended to compliment her. She’d made it clear that she only thought of him as the landlady’s son.
“Thanks.” She looked uneasy and quickly reached for her jacket, which hung on the coat tree. “Are you sure you want to do this? The snow’s going to be deep.”
“I think I can handle a little snow,” he said, bending to slip his feet into the work boots he’d worn earlier.
But it was more than a little snow, he discovered, as they walked the short distance to Snelling Avenue. By the time they reached the pub, Dylan’s pant legs were wet and his fingers were a bit numb. He welcomed the warmth that greeted them as they stepped inside.
“I can see no one’s taking the weather advisory seriously,” he commented, surveying the crowded restaurant. “I’m not sure there are any vacant booths.”
“I think there’s one in the back,” said a passing waitress who’d heard his comment. She directed them to a high-backed booth in a corner that was far away from the noise of the bar. It had leather seats and a wooden table that had a candle burning inside an amber glass centerpiece.
Dylan helped Maddie as she shrugged out of her coat, then hung it on a hook on the side of the booth. He watched her slide across the bench seat and wished he could slip in beside her. Nothing in her body language told him she’d appreciate such a gesture.
He removed his jacket and hung it next to her coat, then sat down. She looked so beautiful in the dim candlelight, with her cheeks rosy from the cold, that he found it difficult to take his eyes off her.
She was staring at him, too, but for another reason.
“Your ears are red,” she told him.
“It’s cold out there, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said in good humor.
“I bet you wish you were back in Saint Martin.”
“No, I’m glad I’m right here.” It was the truth. He liked being with her.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather be in an Irish pub in Saint Paul in the middle of a blizzard than in the fresh air on a beachfront restaurant in the Caribbean?”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The air out there is fresh.”
“Yes, and if it keeps snowing at the rate it is, we might know all of these people quite well before the night’s over,” she noted with a quirky smile.
“I guess there are worst places to be stranded than in a pub.”
She didn’t need to comment because a waitress arrived. When Maddie asked for a Killian’s Red, Dylan said, “Make that two.”
As soon as the waitress had gone, he picked up one of the menus and asked, “What do you recommend?”
“I like the corned beef and cabbage, but they also make wonderful potato-leek soup.”
It was while they were going over the menu choices that someone called out, “Well, for goodness’ sake. Look who’s here.”
Both Maddie and Dylan turned at the sound of a woman’s voice. Approaching the booth was a gray-haired woman, a grin on her face, a balding man at her side.
Maddie smiled in recognition. “Hi, Elaine.”
The woman tugged on the arm of the gentleman at her side and said, “This is the girl I told you about, Leo—the one who’s organizing our prom night at the co-op.” Then she looked at Dylan and said, “Finally I get to meet your beau. You must be Jeffrey. I have to tell you, I think the world of your Maddie. She’s the best,” she said, casting an affectionate grin at Maddie, who shifted uneasily.
“Elaine, this isn’t Jeffrey.”
The older woman covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I just thought…forgive me,” she said contritely to Dylan.
“No problem.” He rose to his feet. “I’m Dylan Donovan. I’d offer you my hand but, as you can see, it’s out of commission.” He pointed to the sling.
Elaine expressed her sympathy and concern, which had Maddie adding, “He’s recovering from shoulder surgery, which is why we’re here. Dylan’s mother is my landlady and she’s out of town so I’m playing Florence Nightingale.”
“How sweet of you,” the older woman said, giving Maddie’s arm a pat.
While the four of them made small talk, it was obvious to Dylan that Maddie was trying to dispel any notion Elaine might have that they were anything but casual acquaintances. Several times she mentioned his mother’s absence and her role as nurse for the weekend. She looked relieved when the waitress returned with their beers and Elaine and her husband said goodbye.
When they’d gone, Dylan asked, “So what is this prom day at the co-op?”
“It’s a fund-raising event the store is sponsoring this spring. Employees dress up in old prom dresses and formal attire in an effort to raise money and donations for the emergency food shelves,” she explained, then took a sip of her beer.
“And you’ll be wearing one of your old prom dresses?”
“Not one of mine. They’re long gone, but Elaine found one for me at a consignment shop.”
“She’s a good friend of yours?”
“More of a professional acquaintance. She’s one of the founding members of the co-op.”
“Who obviously hasn’t met your Jeffrey. I’m not sure she believed that I was your landlady’s son.”
Maddie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re on a date and didn’t want anyone to see us together.”
No, it wasn’t exactly a date, but Dylan found himself wishing that Maddie was having dinner with him because she wanted to be with him, not because she’d lost a wager. He didn’t want to be an obligation to her, yet that was exactly how she saw their time together and it bothered him.
“Your Jeffrey has nothing to worry about from me. I don’t make it a habit of going after other men’s women—no matter how tempting.” And she was definitely a temptation, especially the way her tight pink sweater clung to her curves.
“I wish you wouldn’t call him my Jeffrey. People aren’t possessions.”
“Ah, so it’s that kind of a relationship, is it?”
“What kind?”
“Politically correct.”
“It has nothing to do with being politically correct. It has to do with respect.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes. There’s no pl
ace for possessiveness in a healthy relationship,” she stated firmly.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes. Obviously you don’t.” She made it sound as if it were a defect in his personality.
“Maddie, the very nature of physical attraction demands that people regard each other in a possessive way.” As he said the words he wondered if she’d ever had the kind of physical relationship that made one want to possess another’s heart and soul.
“I disagree. Love isn’t possessive.”
“Who said anything about love? I’m talking about physical attraction.”
“Look, it really doesn’t matter, does it?” The impatience in her voice told him she was uncomfortable with the topic of discussion. Her next words confirmed it. “We’ve already established we’re not on a date here, we’re just having dinner. Maybe we should talk about something else.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to ask her about her relationship with Jeffrey, but he could see it was a subject she didn’t want to discuss with him. Instead he asked, “Have you ever lived anywhere but North Dakota and Minnesota?”
The fingers wrapped around her glass relaxed their grip. “Yes. I was in a traveling theater production before I moved here. Every six weeks we moved on to a different city. I saw a lot of the United States during those two years.”
“And did you enjoy it?”
“I did. It was a great experience.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because I got tired of dancing in pain. I had an injury that kept recurring and decided that being a professional dancer wasn’t for me. Although I’m not sure how long I would have continued had my knee held up. It may appear to be a glamorous lifestyle, but it’s actually very difficult.”
“Teaching is easier?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. I enjoy the students. My youngest group is four-year-olds. They’re so cute and so much fun. Your nephew’s in that class.”
He chuckled. “Mickey takes ballet lessons?”
“And tap.”
And just when he thought he’d seen all the surprises coming home had for him. “Whose idea was that?”
“Not mine,” she was quick to point out.
“I can’t believe Shane would have suggested it.”
“It was Jennifer’s idea but Shane didn’t object so I don’t think you should, either.”
“Did I say I objected?”
“You don’t need to. I can see it in your face.”
“What you see on my face is surprise. Knowing Shane, I’d expect Mickey to be playing peewee hockey, not dancing with a bunch of little girls.”
“There are other boys in the class.”
“How many?”
“One.”
“Exactly my point.”
She went on the defensive then. “There’s nothing wrong with men learning how to dance. Believe it or not, women actually like it when they do.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Do you dance?”
“Only when there’s music playing…unlike a certain fourteen-year-old I remember,” he said, unable to resist teasing her.
It had the desired effect. She smiled. “The music is often playing in my head.”
He lifted his glass in salute. “To those who dance.”
She clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. Then she asked, “Are you good at it?”
“I haven’t had any complaints thus far, but then I haven’t had an expert’s opinion yet. Maybe you could evaluate me once this shoulder is healed,” he said provocatively.
She was spared from having to answer by the return of the waitress, who took their food orders. As soon as she’d gone, Maddie said, “Mickey loves to dance.”
“I know. He tried to show me in the airport. What about your friend, Jeffrey. Does he like to dance?”
She looked as if she wasn’t going to answer, then finally said, “No, he doesn’t.”
So they didn’t have that in common. Again Dylan found his curiosity aroused. “I understand he’s a friend of Garret’s.”
She nodded. “Your brother’s the one who introduced us. He and Garret were roommates during their undergraduate days.”
“And Jeffrey’s a graduate student at the university?”
“Yes. He’s very well respected in the academic community.”
“Is he fun to be with?”
That question had her stiffening. “I wouldn’t go out with him if I didn’t enjoy his company.”
“How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”
“About six months.”
“I see.” He’d hoped that she’d say only a few weeks. Six months increased the chances that it was not only a monogamous relationship but an intimate one as well.
Her eyes narrowed. “Just what is it you think you see?”
“That my chances of getting you to go out with me are slim and next to none if you’re that serious about him,” he said candidly.
“We’re not serious in the way that you think. At this stage we’re just very good friends.”
Friends? Hope sprang to life. “How close are you?”
“And why should I answer that?”
“Because you know I’m interested in you and would like for this to be a real date.” He didn’t see any point in not being direct.
She lowered her eyes. “That’s not possible.”
“Because of Jeffrey?”
She avoided his eyes, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. “Because of a lot of things.”
He frowned. “Tell me what things.”
“Like the fact that you’re only here for a short time.”
“You don’t date guys just to have fun?”
“I have fun with Jeffrey,” she repeated with a hint of exasperation, then she rolled her eyes heavenward. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why Jeffrey and I work and why you and I wouldn’t.”
“And that would be because…” He was eager to hear her answer.
“Because you see relationships as physical attractions and Jeffrey and I see them as companionships.”
Companionships? That had him assuming he was right—that there was no passion in her relationship with the other man. “Is that what you really look for in a relationship—companionship?”
“And friendship, yes. It’s a good basis for a relationship and it certainly will last longer than if you base it on…” She seemed embarrassed to finish.
He wasn’t the least bit reticent about supplying her ending. “Sex?”
“I was going to say physical attraction,” she corrected him.
“So you look first for friendship in a relationship—because you’re worried that physical attraction will fade.”
“Physical attraction does fade. You know that. You wouldn’t still be single if it didn’t.”
“Yes, but when the chemistry is there, there’s nothing more exciting.” Which was what his own body was telling him right now. Just being with Maddie was enough to energize every muscle and nerve inside him.
“I’m not saying there isn’t, but it’s not the foundation for the kind of relationship I want,” she stated rationally. “I think if you’re good friends, chemistry will follow.”
“So you’re not going to risk putting the cart before the horse.”
“Exactly.”
“So you’re going to go with the horse and hope the cart shows up, is that it?” The thought annoyed him. That this unknown Jeffrey had this gorgeous, sensual woman at his fingertips and was content with companionship.
“Jeffrey’s not a horse.”
“But he’s satisfied with the two of you being just friends.” He raised a brow.
“Yes. Is there a reason why he shouldn’t be?” She sounded a bit annoyed and her next words proved that he’d flustered her. “I’m happy, he’s happy. Satisfied?”
The waitress arrived with their food, putting an end to what had
become a tense moment. After she left, Dylan did his best to keep the conversation impersonal, but it was difficult. He knew that Maddie was fooling herself if she thought there wasn’t a physical attraction between the two of them.
He’d noticed it the first night he’d come home and she’d confronted him with so much passion. He’d thought it was her defense of his mother that had aroused so much emotion, but every subsequent time they’d been together he’d seen that same fire in her eyes. They couldn’t be in the same room together without tension arcing between them.
That’s why he couldn’t resist asking, “How often do you and Jeffrey see each other?”
In between bites of corned beef, she said, “Whenever our schedules allow us to be together.”
“Did you see him last weekend?”
“No. He’s been working on his thesis for the past two weeks and he’s been very busy. Could we not talk about Jeffrey?” she asked on a note of impatience.
He shrugged. “Suits me. I’d rather talk about you.”
“Maybe we should be talking about you and why your brother feels he needs to protect me from you,” she suggested.
He frowned. “Which brother?”
“Garret.”
“I should have known. And what was his warning?”
“Not to take anything you say too seriously. That you like to flirt with women. Not that I needed the warning. I did spend a summer here, remember?”
“Meaning what? If I remember correctly, I was on my best behavior,” he protested.
“If that was your best…well, I guess it was a good thing I was a skinny little fourteen-year-old who could have passed for a boy,” she said dryly. “How many girls did you date that summer?”
“A few,” he confessed with a grin.
She nearly choked on her food. “A few? As in few hundred?”
“Now that is an exaggeration.”
“Is it? Is that why you were voted biggest class flirt in your senior class?”
“How did you hear about that?”
“Your mom has all the yearbooks on one of the bookshelves in the living room.”