What could he say to her? I’m attracted to you but it’s too soon to expect anything else? I want to take you to bed but I don’t want the pain of loving and losing? He remembered too well Megan’s withdrawal because his hours were too long and his time with her too limited. She couldn’t understand why he wanted to become a doctor when he had his inheritance from his dad to rely on. But all the money in the world couldn’t save their son.
Although he’d only known Erika for two and a half weeks, he felt as if he’d known her for much longer. Yet he was a practical man. Especially after this conversation, he didn’t believe Erika would expect him to give up medicine for her. For her and Emilia, he corrected himself.
Yet, knowing her for just two and a half weeks, how sure could he be about that?
Dillon’s office was quiet all Monday afternoon. He cast a glance out to the reception area, knowing Erika’s desk chair was empty. Dammit, he missed her and he didn’t want to.
The drive home yesterday from D.J.’s had been awkward. So had their greeting this morning. This afternoon, she’d left for an appointment in town with Bo Clifton. That had added a layer of restlessness to the time Dillon had spent in his office this afternoon. He didn’t know Bo well, but he did know one fact about him. He was a charmer…and a self-proclaimed renegade. That was one of the reasons he was running for mayor.
Dillon checked his watch. How long could Erika’s meeting with Bo take? She had said she’d wanted to consult with him about when and where he’d be addressing the residents of Thunder Canyon on Friday afternoon. All that would take about fifteen minutes. She’d been gone two hours.
It was none of his business.
A half hour later he was still trying to convince himself of that when Bo and Erika sailed into his office. Bo raised a hand in greeting and Dillon rose from his desk, walking to the middle of the room to shake his hand.
“It’s good to see you again,” Bo said. They’d run into each other in June at the town barbecue.
“It’s good to see you, too.” Dillon glanced over at Erika. Today she’d worn her hair in a chignon with tendrils escaping around her face. In a long-sleeved silky blouse with a navy vest and skirt, she was beautiful. In fact, Bo was looking at her now, too, and Dillon didn’t like the glint in his eye.
“Good luck with your candidacy,” Dillon forced himself to say, returning his attention to Bo.
“I intend to add hard work and glad-handing to that luck. Erika was kind enough to be a test audience for my speech.”
“It’s really good,” she said, coming closer to the two men. “It lays out all the ways he’s going to make this town better.”
“I thought you were meeting at campaign headquarters.” Bo’s office was downtown in a drugstore whose proprietor had just retired.
“Oh, we did,” Bo assured him. “But I had business up here with Grant, so I told Erika I’d walk her in. She was really a big help with my speech and helped me clarify a couple of points. Who knows? After I become mayor, I might have to steal her away from the resort and bring her into the mayor’s office.”
Erika beamed with pleasure at Bo’s compliment.
“Well, I know you two probably have work to do and Grant doesn’t like it when I keep him waiting,” Bo said. “It was good to see you again, Dillon.” He lightly touched Erika’s arm. “I’ll see you again on Friday.”
“I’ll be in the front row listening.”
Bo gave her a smile that Dillon knew would melt most of his female constituents.
After Bo left, Dillon asked Erika, “Had you met Bo before today?”
“Not really. I had a couple of phone conversations with him. Why?”
“You two seem to get along well.”
“He seems like a nice guy.” She was looking at Dillon with puzzlement.
“Lots of women think he is.”
“Are you trying to warn me away from him?”
“No, of course not,” Dillon answered gruffly, and went back to his desk. He had no right to tell Erika whom she could and couldn’t see. He had no rights at all where she was concerned.
And that nettled him most.
He couldn’t help but glance at her when he got back to his desk. She was still standing there studying him, head tilted, tendrils floating around her face in a way that made him want to brush them back. She asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Yet he knew it was.
“Well, I’ll see you later,” Erika said, waiting to see if he had something to discuss with her.
But he didn’t. “Later,” he repeated.
She left his office.
Erika worked on the computer the rest of the afternoon and Dillon didn’t interrupt her. He didn’t go near her. Whenever he did, he was overcome by the desire to take her into his arms, kiss her and take her to bed. He hadn’t wanted a woman like this in a very long time. He couldn’t even remember wanting Megan like this. Their physical relationship had always been satisfactory, except near the end. But he’d never felt the kind of need he felt coming from Erika, or even within himself. And that made him uneasy.
When Erika stopped in to say goodbye around 5:00, Dillon was somewhat curt. She looked…hurt.
Dammit, he didn’t want to hurt her.
There was only one thing to do. Go after her and attempt to explain. She was walking out of the reception area when Dillon caught up with her. She looked up at him and he could see the conflict in her eyes…could practically feel the emotion washing through her.
“What did I do wrong?” she asked.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I know I was a bear this afternoon.”
“A quiet bear,” she said, breaking into a little smile.
“What’s your favorite takeout? I’ll pick some up and bring it over and we’ll have supper with Emilia.”
“Are you sure you want to?”
He could see she was remembering their conversation from Sunday. He was, too. “Yes, I do.”
“And Emilia?” she asked, knowing he had mixed feelings about spending time with her little girl.
“And with Emilia. I can’t wall myself off from children forever.”
“But that’s what you try to do.”
He didn’t deny it. “I know. I’ll try not to tonight.”
Erika looked as if she wanted to ask what that meant, but she didn’t. She just said, “Emilia likes the fried chicken from that little restaurant over on Pine Street. If you could pick up some, that would be great. I have veggies I can warm up and some potato casserole I had left over from last night. If you don’t mind leftovers,” she added.
“The truth is, I don’t care what we eat—I just want to be with you and Emilia.”
He didn’t touch her, though he wanted to. He promised her nothing would happen here where they worked. He kept his promises.
But she laid her hand on his bicep, and the contact seared not only his arm but his very center. “Then I’ll see you in a little while.”
He watched Erika walk down the hall into the huge lobby and get lost in the people mingling there. He’d notice her in any size crowd. He’d know her from a mile away.
He wasn’t going to think about shoulds or shouldn’ts tonight. He was just going to try to stay in the moment.
Stay in the moment.
When Dillon knocked on Erika’s door, a box of chicken in hand, he heard Emilia crying inside.
When he rapped harder, Erika called, “It’s open. Come in.”
After he opened the door and stepped inside, he found Emilia seated on the living room floor, red-faced and crying, pounding her little fists on her knees. Erika was kneeling beside her, talking to her in a calm voice. But it didn’t seem to be helping. He guessed the toy bin next to Emilia was the source of her frustration, though he didn’t know why.
“I brought supper,” he called, smiling at Emilia, hoping to break the thread of whatever was going on.
She glanced at him for a moment, stopped crying, but then a secon
d later continued again.
Erika shook her head. “She’s being stubborn tonight. She wanted to dump out the whole bin of toys and I told her she had to pick two.”
“Can she count?” Dillon asked teasingly.
“That’s the point. I’m trying to teach her,” Erika replied with a smile.
The wailing continued at a high pitch until Dillon set the chicken on a side table and crouched down to the almost two-year-old. “Hey there, little princess, what’s this all about?” He held out his hands to her, not knowing what she would do.
Emilia gave her mom a baleful glance, then lifted her arms to Dillon, hiccuping.
He picked her up and rose to his feet. “So you think you can play with more than one toy at a time?” He scooped up a doll that was two-sided. One side was a plain little girl, the other side was a princess. He wiggled the doll at Emilia’s tummy. “Don’t you think this will keep you busy for a while? Especially if we cut up chicken into tiny little pieces so you can try to eat it.”
Now Emilia was smiling at him and grabbing for the doll. He turned it to the princess side. “A little princess always listens to her mommy, doesn’t she?”
At the word mommy Emilia’s gaze went to Erika.
Erika just shook her head, came over to the two of them and wiped a few tears from her daughter’s cheek. “Okay, tell me your secret. I tried to get her interested in the doll and she wanted no part of it. She just wanted to empty her toy bin.”
Dillon laughed. “Your daughter simply knows that I’m Dr. Prince Charming and I can do no wrong.”
As soon as he said the words, he wished he could draw them back. Because he could do some wrong. He could hurt Erika and himself in the process. And here he was, holding her daughter, liking the feeling of being here with both of them.
“I thought you’d run in the other direction if you heard her crying.”
“I don’t scare that easily.” Their gazes held and the current that always danced between them was stronger than ever.
Erika licked her lips, then took a deep breath.
Dillon felt as if he could use a couple of breaths of that crisp, fall air outside.
Then she asked, “Could you bring her into the kitchen and put her into her high chair? I just finished warming the potatoes. I’ll pop the vegetables in the microwave.”
Fifteen minutes later Erika had finely minced the vegetables with chicken and stirred it into the mashed potatoes. Dillon didn’t want to start without her. “I can wrap the rest of the chicken and put it in the oven until you’re finished feeding Emilia.”
“I’m used to cold food,” she joked.
He realized again how many sacrifices Erika had made for her daughter, and the ones she was still making. He was filled with the desire to make her life easier. Yet he knew she was too independent to accept help. He felt so protective of the two of them, and he still hadn’t figured out why. He’d been around moms and kids and backed away from them before.
Was he finally ready to move forward with his life? And what exactly did that mean?
Going to the counter he poured two mugs of the coffee that Erika had brewed. He took his black but he knew she liked sugar and cream. He fixed hers, then took both the mugs to the table.
She glanced down at it with a look of surprise on her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a man serve me coffee.”
He stopped by her chair and clasped her shoulder. “You deserve to be served coffee…and a lot more.”
The heat that rose in her cheeks seemed to rush through his whole body. They were stepping into dangerous territory, teetering on the edge of an attraction that could easily turn into an affair. He moved away from her and sat across from her at the table again and took a sip of scalding coffee.
Erika had returned her attention to Emilia again, giving her a last spoonful of potatoes, then shaking a colorful cereal onto her tray. Emilia reached for one of the little shapes and grinned at her mom.
Erika stood, went to the oven and removed the chicken with an oven mitt. She set it onto the table with the other casseroles. “Dig in.”
Dillon filled his plate and began eating. Erika did the same. The silence between them was comfortable until she asked blandly, “So…what was going on with you this afternoon?”
“You haven’t guessed?”
She wiped her fingers on a napkin. “No. I thought maybe something happened while I was gone.”
Dillon took her hand across the table and linked his fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away. “What if I told you I was jealous of Bo Clifton?”
After a quiet moment of studying his face she asked, “Are you serious?”
He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her palm. “I suppose that’s what it was. It was a foreign feeling, really. I just didn’t like the fact that he was being so charming to you.”
“Oh, Dillon. Don’t you think I recognize the difference between Bo giving me a compliment and you giving me a compliment?”
“I hope you do.”
“You need to give me a little more credit. You need to trust—” She stopped.
“I need to trust you? Do you trust me?”
For a moment he thought she was going to get up and run away, but then she admitted, “I’m beginning to.”
The phone on Erika’s kitchen counter rang.
He reluctantly pulled his fingers from hers.
“I could let my machine take it, but if it’s my mom she’ll wonder why I’m not answering. She knows I’m home.”
He nodded, wishing they weren’t constantly interrupted…wishing they’d have some quiet time just for the two of them, away from work and responsibilities.
Erika answered the phone. “Hi, Mom.” After she listened for a little while she said, “Dillon’s here, having dinner with us.”
He didn’t know if her mom went silent or if she did, but there seemed to be a long pause. Then Erika said brightly, “You can bring it over now. We don’t mind. I’m positive. I’ll be getting Emilia ready for bed soon. Okay.” She put down the receiver.
“Your mom’s coming over?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t know if she’ll stay—”
“Don’t apologize. She cares about the two of you. Do you want me to leave?”
“Don’t be silly.”
He liked her immediate and spontaneous reaction. Rising from his chair, he crossed to her. “One of these days we’re going to have time alone.”
She moved a little closer to him and almost whispered, “And what will we do with it when we do?”
He circled her waist with his arms and pulled her tighter against him. “That will depend on you.”
He rubbed his cheek against hers, kissed her sweetly and slowly, knowing he had to keep it light with Emilia sitting close by…with Erika’s mother on the way over.
The doorbell rang and he broke away from her. She looked as if she wanted to stay in his arms and that’s what he wanted, too. But wanting something and getting it were two different things. “I’ll take Emilia from her high chair. Go ahead and get the door.”
Erika gave him a last longing glance before she opened the door to her mother.
Constance came in and took in the scene with one assessing look. “Hello, Dr. Traub,” she said as she entered the kitchen.
Dillon almost smiled at her formality. “Hello, Mrs. Rodriguez. It’s good to see you again.” He’d taken Emilia from her high chair and was wiping her face with a napkin.
“There’s still some chicken, Mom, if you’d like to have some,” Erika invited.
“Oh, no, I ate. I just wanted to give you this for Emilia. I finished it tonight.” She handed Erika the bag she’d brought along.
Erika peeked inside and took out a corduroy jumper that was decorated with embroidered pumpkins. “Oh, it’s adorable.” She hugged her mother. “Thank you so much. She’ll look so cute in it.” She held it up to Emilia and said, “What do
you think?”
Emilia took the jumper, brought it to her face and laid her little head against it. Erika and Dillon both laughed.
Dillon said, “You do beautiful work.”
“Thank you,” Constance returned. “Sewing is my favorite hobby.”
In the awkward silence that followed, Erika took Emilia from Dillon’s arms. “I’m going to take her upstairs and put her to bed. It won’t take long. I think she’s already half asleep. Do you want to help?” Erika asked her mom.
“No, you go ahead. I’ll have a cup of coffee with Dr. Traub.”
“Dillon,” Dillon said, hoping to make them both feel more comfortable.
After Erika went upstairs with a worried glance at the two of them, he poured a mug of coffee for Constance. She added milk and sugar and sat at the table across from him. “I suppose you and Erika work closely together…since she’s your receptionist,” Constance began.
“Not so closely. Erika has other responsibilities that keep her busy, too. She met with one of the candidates running for mayor this afternoon.”
“You had work to discuss this evening?” her mother asked.
“No, we didn’t.”
Constance frowned. “So you’re becoming friendly outside of work?”
“I enjoy spending time with your daughter.”
“Erika told me you lost a child. That must have been terrible.”
“Yes, it was. At first I thought being around Emilia would be…hard. But each time I’m around her…” He shrugged. “I think about my son, Toby. But I also see Emilia for who she is, and she makes me smile.”
“And Erika? She makes you smile, too?”
“Erika is a very special woman.”
“Who is much younger than you are.”
This interrogation was getting uncomfortable but Dillon tried to keep his tone from becoming defensive. “After what she’s been through, I think she’s mature beyond her years.”
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