The Taming of the Bachelor (8 page)

“Are they like you?”

“Addison is. Tyler...not so much.”

“He takes after his dad?”

“No. Tyler is my little brainiac. Very into school and learning and contests and competitions. Lewis was smart, but he was more interested in physical challenges, than mental.”

“What did Lewis do?”

“Radio advertising.” She smiled crookedly. “Sales guy. Very goal-oriented, with tons of charm.”

“And you were charmed by him.”

“I was,” she agreed. “He was popular and outgoing. Everyone loved him. My brother used to tease me, asking what someone like Lewis would see in boring old me?” Paige shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d say. I still don’t know.”

“I
do,” Dillon said flatly. “You are incredibly warm, and real. You radiate light. That’s a gift.”

“A boring gift.”

“Nothing boring about you.” His voice dropped and he leaned towards her, leaning close enough that he could see tiny flecks of jade in her blue eyes and the tiny pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat.

He stayed there, wondering if she’d draw back, move away.

She didn’t.

She just looked into his eyes and from the brightness of her eyes and the lush softness of her pink lips, he knew what she was feeling. He was feeling it, too. The desire crackled between them, the chemistry electric. Dillon couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt hunger like this. He didn’t just want her. He needed her.

Needed to touch her, and kiss her, and feel her against him.

He craved her taste and smell. Craved the satin heat of her skin.

He had to get control. Had to smash the tension.

“Tell me more about Lewis,” he said, grabbing at the one topic that should bring them back to reality. Dead husbands were nothing but a cold shower.

She blinked, surprised. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything. Was he a good dad...a good husband?”

She sucked in air in a small whoosh of sound. “Yes.”

“Your marriage was happy?”

It took her a split second to answer “Yes.”

She’d hesitated for only a moment but he’d heard it. His brow furrowed and he found himself wondering if her marriage was truly good, and satisfying. “Are you uncomfortable talking about him?”

“No.” And yet suddenly she was toying with her fork, and then her pie plate, her fingers restless. “I just don’t do it often. Not even with his parents. Makes them sad.”

“Do the kids talk about him?”

She shook her head. “Not as much, not anymore. I’ll bring him up, though, try to keep his memory alive but it’s getting harder. They were so young when he died. Addison doesn’t remember being with him, or doing things with him. Tyler remembers a camping trip just before Lewis died. Tyler and Lewis went fishing and Tyler hooked his finger.”

“That has to be hard for you.”

“It’s hard. It’s sad. It’s...wrong. I hate that they have to grow up without him, but it is what it is and I moved us here so they could be near Lewis’ parents. I wanted them to know their dad’s parents, and who their dad was, and what he loved. And Lewis loved the mountains. Loved them. And being out of doors, and hiking, skiing, mountain climbing all of it. So we’re here.”

“It had to be a shock when he died. It was an accident. A climbing thing, right?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

Suddenly Paige couldn’t just sit another moment. Needing to be busy, she rose and retrieved the coffee pot from the burner and refilled their cups. It’d been more than a shock when Lewis died. It’d been absolutely devastating. Like a bomb falling, exploding. His death blew her life apart.

In all those years of his climbing, she’d never seriously contemplated him dying.

How could he? He was strong and healthy and smart and lots of people climbed and jumped out of planes and heli-skied...

Lots of people did daring things and didn’t die. Why should he?

Those things happened to other people. No one she knew had ever had a loss...her parents were together. All four grandparents still alive. Her family was close. Normal. Nice. Her world was nice. She was nice.

Lewis had loved her sweetness, her stability, her serenity. She was that good girl with faith and strength and confidence, which made her perfect for him.

Didn’t he used to say that all the time? She was just perfect, and they had two beautiful, perfect kids, and a wonderful, perfect life...

Then he died in that avalanche that claimed two others climbers and the perfect life ended.

Death was real. Grief was real. Perfection didn’t exist.

Even faith didn’t protect you from terrible things.

Even strong faith didn’t keep you safe.

As she put the coffee pot back on the burner, she realized that Dillon was watching her intently.

Her gaze met his briefly and she looked away, uncomfortable with the sympathy she saw in his eyes.

She didn’t want his sympathy. Didn’t want sympathy from anyone. It wasn’t their fault, wasn’t anyone’s fault. These things happened.

Accidents happened.

She swallowed hard as she walked back to the counter. She didn’t return to her seat though, she stayed on the far side, with the counter between them. It just seemed safer that way.

“He was climbing Everest. Going for the big one.” She struggled to smile. “I wish I could say I had a bad feeling about that expedition. I didn’t. He was fearless, and I was clueless.” It was a battle to hold her smile when her chest squeezed, her heart aching. “I’m definitely more clued-in now.”

“How long ago did it happen?”

She closed her eyes, held her breath a moment and then opened them. “It’ll be four years on May 26
^th
.”

Four years in May, Dillon thought, seeing how the past had put shadows in her eyes. Four years and she still wasn’t yet dating, and he wondered why.

Was it because she hadn’t found the right man yet? Or was it because she’d loved Lewis so much?

His gut told him it was probably a combination of the two, but one day she would meet the right man, and she’d be ready to move on.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could have been the right man, but he wasn’t sticking around Marietta. He’d had enough of small towns and Montana winters and he was looking forward to getting to Texas and back to work.

It was almost as if she could read his mind. “Tell me about this new job,” she said, reaching across the counter to stack the pie plates.

He shrugged. “There’s not much to say.”

“That’s not what Trey said.”

He looked up into her eyes and their gazes locked, held, her expression intense. Curious.

Her eyes were always beautiful but right now they were even more lovely, shining darkly blue, filled with emotion and intelligence and a warm bright light that had nothing to do with Lewis and everything to do with them, here, right now.

She was attracted to him, and the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

Dillon drew a slow breath, reminding himself that he had to be careful. He couldn’t lead her on, letting her think that there could be something between them when there never would be. He wasn’t a relationship guy. Maybe one day, down the road, but he wasn’t there yet, and wouldn’t be for a long time. “How much did Trey tell you about Tutro?”

“Enough to know this isn’t exactly a new job.”

“No, it’s not.” He hesitated, wondering where he should begin, and unsure how much to tell her, but thinking that talking was a hell of a lot safer than kissing, and right now, all he could think about was taking her mouth...

Taking her...

“It’s not new at all,” he said. “It’s my company. The one I co-founded with my best friend from college. We started Tutro right out of grad school, with funding from Troy. It was a struggle initially but we were doing some really cool, innovative things and we started doing well. Really well. Greg began pushing for us to take the company public. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to have to answer to shareholders. I thought staying private would also protect our ideas better. We began to hit heads but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Turns out, it was a big deal.”

“So you left your company to come home.”

He nodded, growing more comfortable. Talking about Tutro definitely killed some of the sexual tension because Tutro wasn’t sexy or hot or fun. It was frustrating, and consuming, and soon it would be his reality again. “I was given an ultimatum,” he added, “the company or my family. I couldn’t believe it.”

He grimaced, silent, remembering how when he showed up on the doorstep of the old log house on the Sheenan Ranch, he’d returned unemployed, terminated by Tutro’s board in a 6-2 vote of no confidence. At the time, Tutro’s PR team called it “an amicable parting with co-founder Sheenan returning to the family homestead in Montana,” when it hadn’t been amicable in the least.

It had taken Dillon a whole month of hard riding and ranch chores to come to terms with the vote, and the realization that his best friend, Greg Newsome, wasn’t a good friend at all. As it turned out, Greg had been angling for quite awhile to seize control of Tutro and by eliminating Dillon as co-president, he had that control. So he did what he’d been wanting to do: he took Tutro public.

“But now the company wants you back,” she said.

He looked at Paige, having forgotten for a moment she was even there. “Tutro went public in a big way, but then within a couple years, it did a spectacular nosedive, sending earnings plummeting. Tutro went from being a bright light in Austin’s competitive bio-medical field, to a failure.”

“And you’re supposed to turn that around?”

He heard her incredulous tone and smiled crookedly. “I am the last hope.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I don’t mind pressure. I don’t appreciate disrespect.”

“A part of you must be excited about the challenge.”

“I’m looking forward to the fight. I’d like to be able to save my company.”

“And you think you can.”

He hesitated. “I’m sure as hell going to try.” And he did have a chance. Bringing him back as Tutro’s CEO would help on Wall Street. Shares would certainly trade up, not because Dillon was a savior, but Dillon was a Sheenan, brother to Troy Sheenan, and Troy was a big deal in the venture capital world. Insiders knew that Troy had helped Dillon with cash to start the company and those same insiders would assume that with Dillon returning to assume leadership, that Dillon would return with support from his big investor...his brother.

And Dillon didn’t accept Tutro’s third offer until he sat down with Troy and talked about Tutro. Not because he needed Troy’s money, but because he wanted Troy’s opinion. Could Tutro be saved? Was it worth saving?

“This is going to be a good move for you,” she said quietly. “I think this is exactly what you need.”

For a long moment they just looked at each other, the silence weighted, consuming.

As the silence grew, so did the crackle of awareness. It was late. They were alone in the warm diner and the snow kept coming down outside in a steady flurry of white. It felt as if they were in their own world, a private world, far removed from reality and responsibility.

Dangerous thinking, he reminded himself. Dangerous being here, like this, when he could see she was just as caught up in the moment as he.

Something was going to happen. Something that shouldn’t happen.

He needed to go. Now. Because if he stayed much longer he’d do something damn stupid like kiss her. Touch her. Love her.

“I
t’s late,” Dillon growled, rising, grabbing the dishes and picking up plated and cups and carrying them to the kitchen.

One of the forks fell midway and she picked it up and followed him into the kitchen. “Just leave the dishes in the sink,” she said, “I’ll do them tomorrow.”

He did as she directed, then turned to face her. “What about you?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest. “What do you need?”

She wrinkled her nose as she counted off a list on her fingers. “New electrical and plumping...a furnace that works. Windows that seal. Floorboards that don’t creak. Not too bad, huh?”

His chest tightened. She was making light of her problems, but it couldn’t be easy. Her life hadn’t been easy. “That’s it?” he teased gently, admiring her more than ever. “That’s all you need? Fix those little things and your life will be a dream?”