Читать книгу From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'': From Doctor...to Daddy - Crystal Green, Crystal Green - Страница 9

Dillon slowed on Thursday morning when he spotted Erika at the coffee bar not far from the main lobby. Usually he brewed a pot of coffee in his suite. This morning, however, he’d needed to go to his office, get to work … and forget.

He’d been awake most of the night, remembering the day his wife had left. She’d said, “Toby’s gone and there’s nothing holding us together anymore. I want a new life. I don’t want to be married to a doctor.”

He could have told her he’d leave medicine. He could have told her he’d work in management at Traub Industries and build the portfolio he’d inherited. In the end, he’d known if she couldn’t accept his need to be a doctor, their marriage had truly collapsed.

With the old memories still ricocheting in his head and Erika standing about ten feet away, he decided he might need a double espresso this morning.

When Erika turned from the cashier, a tall coffee in her hand, he noticed the navy suit she wore projecting professionalism and decorum. It was a different style than the one she’d worn yesterday, with larger lapels … more fitted at her waist. Her very slim waist. The white silk blouse had a V-neckline. It was quite sedate, but the sedateness itself was alluring. She’d pulled her hair back from her face and secured it in a tight chignon, but there again the severity of the style just showed off the beauty of her face and her dark eyes.

Dillon checked his watch. When his gaze met hers, he motioned to one of the small, black wrought-iron tables. “I’ll get my coffee and join you.” He really didn’t want to give her a chance to say no.

Indecision flickered across her face, but then she nodded and crossed to one of the tables, one a bit removed from the others in a shadowed corner. Did she not want anyone to see them together? Because of all that gossip Stacy had mentioned?

When he joined her, she was seated, staring into her coffee as if it held the schedule for her day. He didn’t sit across from her, but rather beside her. She didn’t move her chair away.

As she looked up at him, he asked, “So do you drink straight coffee or one of those exotic drinks?”

That’s obviously not what she’d expected him to ask. “Do you really want to know?”

His arm was on the table and he leaned a little closer to her. “Yes, I want to know … in case I pick up coffee for the two of us some morning.”

“I think that’s on my roster of duties.”

He shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s simply a courtesy. So what do you drink?”

“A double-shot latte. And you?”

“Straight espresso.”

“Now that that’s settled, why did you really ask me to join you for coffee?” she asked him, choosing to be direct.

“Because I like you.”

Again, surprise showed on her face. “You always say the unexpected.”

“Maybe that’s because you think men are predictable.”

Tilting her head, she studied him more assessingly. “So you’re telling me you’re not like most men.”

“I don’t know. What do you expect from most men?”

“That’s beside the point.” She lowered her gaze to her coffee again as if she didn’t want to reveal any secrets.

Even sitting next to her like this, he could feel the attraction between them. He wouldn’t let her put him in the same category as other men in her life. “That’s exactly the point. You never told me why you ran away from me at the Hitching Post.”

“I didn’t run away,” she protested, her chin lifting, her eyes flashing a bit, revealing passion he realized he’d like to tap.

He liked her flash. “You just evaded my question. Evading is pretty much the same as running away.” If he challenged her, he might get to the root of the problem.

Her grip tightened on her coffee. “All right. It was the way you talked about possibly spending time with your cousins’ children. You were so detached … like you were saying the words but you didn’t really mean them.”

She was perceptive … way too perceptive. After practicing the past few years, he thought he had his neutral face down pat. But this wasn’t the place to tell her why he tried to be detached. To tell her about Toby … and Megan. “How did you interpret the detachment?”

She weighed his question, apparently understanding he was giving nothing away. “It meant you don’t want the responsibility of children because you believe they’re a burden. You don’t necessarily ‘like’ kids.”

“I like kids,” he said quietly.

“And parenthood is a huge responsibility.”

He certainly didn’t disagree with her on that. But he wanted to keep this conversation about her. “Do you believe most men don’t want the responsibility of fatherhood?”

After a few heartbeats, she finally replied, “I know two in particular who didn’t—my father and Emilia’s father. I’m sure you’ve heard gossip.”

“Actually, I haven’t. I had no idea you had a daughter. Why do you keep her a secret?”

“She’s not a secret. Almost everyone in Thunder Canyon knows about her. But I try to separate my professional life from my personal life. I haven’t always done that and I found it’s better this way.”

“No pictures on your desk? No mention of her?”

Erika set her cup on the table and her hand fluttered toward him. “I don’t need a picture of her to hold her in my heart twenty-four hours a day.”

“So essentially, you were just keeping her a secret from me.”

“Dillon, she’s not a secret. I just—”

“You just didn’t trust me enough to tell me about her. You didn’t trust me enough to believe I’d understand what had happened.”

Her gaze didn’t evade his. “It’s not as if we know each other.”

Although he was physically attracted to Erika, there were so many other qualities he liked about her, too. Her blunt honesty was one of them. So he was just as bluntly honest. “Do you want to get to know me?”

It wasn’t difficult for Dillon to see the turmoil Erika was in and he guessed one of the reasons why. “This isn’t a boss-secretary situation, you know. You’re a free agent. You’re coordinating Frontier Days. You’re just helping me out with my schedule and phone calls while I’m here.”

Her brown eyes conveyed her concern. “You can still turn in a report about me after you leave that can affect my future.”

Keeping his gaze on hers, he assured her, “I could write that report now and be done with it. It took me about an hour on our first day together to learn you’re organized, you practically have a photographic memory and you’re a perfectionist. What more could any employer want?”

“So you’d write a letter of recommendation now and file it away until you leave?”

“Yes. If doing that would mean you’ll have dinner again with me tonight.”

“I can’t.”

Dillon kept his expression neutral, denying how disappointed he felt. Maybe he was all wrong about the two of them connecting. Maybe he was the only one aware of the electricity in the air when they were sitting close together like this. But then he leaned back in his chair, leveled his gaze on her and knew he wasn’t wrong. Still, this was her call. He wasn’t going to pressure her.

“Okay,” he said, pushing his chair back. “That’s settled then.”

But before he could pick up his cup of coffee, her hand clasped his forearm. The electricity was there all right—sparking, buzzing, tingling.

“I have a commitment tonight,” she explained. “It’s a potluck dinner with some of the women in my neighborhood. But …” She gave him an intriguing half smile.

“But?” he asked, denying the fact his heart rate had sped up.

“But you’re welcome to come along.”

“Won’t I be the only guy?”

“Is that too much of a challenge?” she teased.

He knew she wasn’t teasing entirely. It didn’t take a genius to realize this was probably some kind of test. She was throwing down a gauntlet. He’d spent much of his life picking up gauntlets. The future was always more exciting when he did.

“A potluck dinner sounds great. What can I bring?”

That evening Dillon’s rented luxury sedan followed Erika’s small Ford to an older section of Thunder Canyon, possibly an original section. The row houses—a mixture of brick, clapboard and stone—jutted in and out along tree-lined streets.

Erika pulled up in front of a narrow redbrick house that rose two stories. A windowsill box of colorful mums decorated the front window. The house next door, in gray brick instead of red, had a similar box at its front window.

As Erika stepped out of her car, Dillon joined her. She said, “I have to pop inside my place first to get my contribution to the supper, then we’ll go over and gather up Emilia.”

“Your mom lives next door?”

“Yes. It’s more than convenient. It’s wonderful really.

For a while I lived there with her and she wanted me to stay. But I needed a place of my own. This one went up for sale right when I was thinking of buying a house. I knew it was fate. It took every penny of my savings for a down payment, but I wanted something I could invest in and have for a lifetime, maybe even leave to Emilia someday. It’s not very big, but it’s perfect for the two of us.”

She walked up the two front steps and unlocked the door.

Leaning against the wrought-iron railing, Dillon asked, “Mind if I come inside?”

“Not at all.”

When Dillon walked in, he wasn’t sure what to expect. But right away he could see this little gem of a house was something special.

She saw him looking down at the gleaming wood floors and said, “They just needed to be refinished. I did it myself with a little help from our neighbor.”

“You do home improvement?” he asked with a smile.

“I watch the Home and Garden channel when I have a chance. I’ve learned a lot. I also go to the local hardware store and the clerks there fill me in on what I don’t know.”

The living room was to the right, off the small foyer. A braided rug in blue and green and yellow was surrounded by a comfortable-looking sofa and an easy chair in the same colors. Green throw pillows fringed in yellow picked up the colors in the curtains. An entire wall was devoted to framed photos of Emilia. Dillon felt the familiar lance to his heart as he remembered the photographs of Toby that had decorated his and Megan’s living room.

Shaking off the shadows, he noticed a red washbasket full of toys that sat in one corner accompanied by a milk crate that held books. Passing the stairway to the second floor, they headed through the dining room into the kitchen.

“If you haven’t guessed, I like blue and yellow a lot,” she said with a wide smile.

Dillon glanced around the room at the yellow cupboards with blue accents, a round table with a high chair positioned at it and two shelves of cookbooks in a corner hutch. A circular, stained-glass window let in jewel-colored light even as the sun descended. The overall effect of the first floor was charming, and he could imagine Erika happily running after Emilia, bringing laughter into all of the rooms.

“What?” she asked him when she caught him staring at her.

“You’re full of surprises. I never thought you’d dabble in paint or hardware.”

“I’m a single mom, Dillon. I do what I have to do.”

Yes, she was a single mom. He remembered being a dad. It sounded as if she’d always put her daughter first. He hadn’t put his son first. Not until it was too late.

She unplugged the Crock-Pot on her counter. “We’ll just put this in the backseat of the car. It will stay hot.”

Dillon crossed to the kitchen counter to help her. Standing beside her, looking down on her, smelling that wonderful scent from her hair, he wanted to kiss her more badly than he wanted to do anything else. She was looking up at him as if she might want it, too. But he wouldn’t rush anything with Erika. In fact, he shouldn’t even think about starting anything with Erika. She had a child. They lived in two different states.

She has a child, he repeated to himself.

“I’ll carry it,” he said, his voice a bit husky.

“It’s beef stew,” she said. “Most of us try to stretch out paychecks so you’ll see lots of casseroles, I’m afraid.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She quirked up her brows. “Just how often do you eat casseroles?”

He finally had to admit, “Not often. But that’s not because I don’t like them. I just usually grab some takeout supper, or eat at a restaurant.”

“No cooking skills?” she joked.

“No time to use cooking skills. That probably sounds like an excuse, but when I get home at nine o’clock some nights, the last thing I want to do is cook.” With sudden insight, he said, “That’s probably the same way you feel many nights, too, only you have a daughter to think about, so you don’t have a choice.”

Her eyes lingered on his. He thought her gaze dropped to his lips, stayed there a few seconds.

She brought her gaze to his again, then blushed a little. “Not many men understand that.”

“Maybe the men you’ve known don’t understand it, but I know men who do—Dax and D.J. particularly. Even I know that once children are in the picture, everything else should revolve around them.”

They came a little closer to each other, toe-to-toe. If he set down the stew, it would be easy to wrap his arms around her and bring her in for a kiss. But he knew this wasn’t the place or time to start something.

Still, he had the feeling something had already started.

“Speaking of children …” Erika joked, turning away to make sure everything was in order before they left. “If you put that in my car, I’ll get Emilia. Sometimes it takes a little while to coax her into her coat. She can be stubborn.”

Dillon went out the door first and Erika followed, locking the door. “I have a feeling you can be stubborn, too. Am I right?” he asked.

“Only when something is very important.”

A few minutes later, Mrs. Rodriguez was peering out the door when Emilia toddled down the steps and ran straight to Dillon. He’d just finished settling the pot on the floor of the car next to a huge box of chocolates he was contributing to the supper and spun around at the sound of her laughter.

That sound tore at his heart. But he lifted her, unable to resist holding Erika’s daughter. “Well, don’t you look pretty in that red sweater.”

She pulled a lock of her brown hair and grinned at him. “Cawwy … cawwy.”

Erika came over to her daughter and lifted her from Dillon’s arms. “I’ll carry you.”

But Emilia shook her head vigorously and pointed to Dillon.

Her gestures for some reason reminded him of Toby’s. “Would you like me to put you in your car seat?” he asked the almost two-year-old, his voice strained, not knowing if she’d understand.

She reached toward him again. “Go … go … go.”

Erika laughed and Dillon had to smile. At two, Toby had known what he’d wanted, too. When Dillon glanced at Mrs. Rodriguez, she wasn’t smiling. She waved goodbye but didn’t seem happy about her daughter driving off with a man. This Scott Spencerman must have done a number on them both.

A few minutes later, with Dillon driving her car, Erika was giving him directions to a church hall. It wasn’t far and they didn’t have time for conversation until right before they climbed out. Then she said, “Emilia doesn’t usually take to men as she’s taken to you.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“She hasn’t been around many men, so she sees them as strangers. But you—For some reason you’re different.”

Then Erika quickly unfastened her seat belt and exited the car.

Dillon watched as she expertly released Emilia from her car seat. But when Erika shut the back door of the car, Emilia reached her little hands toward Dillon. He could see Erika’s look of surprise. He was surprised, too. And touched … in a deep but bittersweet way.

Erika started to explain to her daughter, “Dr. Dillon doesn’t want—”

Dillon found himself responding impulsively, “Sure, Dr. Dillon will carry you inside. Come on.”

Emilia was a little bundle of sweater and cotton overalls. She smelled sweet and he recognized the shampoo scent, the same brand Allaire used on her child. She laughed up at him, her sparkling brown eyes full of mischief. Then as suddenly as she’d reached for him, she tucked her little head under his chin and poked her thumb into her mouth.

“I think she could become attached,” Erika said softly, a bit of worry in her tone.

“She’s a real gift, isn’t she?” he asked Erika, knowing what she’d been through.

“Yes, she is.”

An elemental understanding passed between them. It was bone-rattling in a way. Understanding could be as potent as chemistry.

He wondered if Erika felt the understanding, too, because suddenly she looked toward the social hall instead of looking at him, and said, “We’d better go inside.” Then she went to the backseat for the Crock-Pot. After handing him the chocolates, they strolled up the walk, side by side.

Inside the social hall, Dillon was surrounded by the sound of women’s voices. As he looked around, he realized this was indeed a test. Most of the women were accompanied by children. Already a few casseroles lined one of the tables. Paper dishes and plastic tableware marked each place. For once in his life, he wasn’t exactly sure what he should say, or what he should do. He was bombarded by memories of Toby as he caught sight of children with their moms playing with toys, sitting at the tables.

Leaning close to Erika, he asked, “Will there be gossip about you bringing me here?”

“Not the way I’m going to introduce you. I thought you could give them some tips on nutrition and on keeping their kids healthy.”

It was obvious Erika wasn’t ready to go on a “date” with him. It was also obvious she was comfortable here—more comfortable than she was with her coworkers at the resort. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll ward off gossip with facts about nutrition. Why don’t you introduce me? We’ll start with that.”

Erika clapped her hands for everyone’s attention. The chatter ebbed away as the women looked at her expectantly.

“I want you to meet Dr. Dillon Traub. He handles emergencies and ailments at the resort. If you have any questions about the best foods to feed your kids, or how to keep them healthy this winter, feel free to ask him.”

Dillon smiled at the women. “I don’t pretend to know all the answers, but if I can tell you anything that will help, I’ll be glad to do it.”

Tired of being held, Emilia squiggled around in his arms. He raised his brows at Erika.

“You can put her down. She likes to roam from chair to chair. Mom already fed her because she usually gets caught up in play with someone here and doesn’t eat.”

After Dillon set Emilia gently on the floor and she ran toward another little girl who looked to be about three, he took off his suit coat and laid it across the table at the rear of the room. Then he tugged down his tie, slung it from around his neck and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. His shirt sleeves were next. He rolled those up and felt a lot more comfortable.

As he took a seat next to Erika, women began filling the chairs around the table, introducing themselves and asking him questions. They weren’t shy and soon they were having a lively discussion about fresh foods, frozen vegetables and healthy snacks for kids. At one point, Dillon glanced at Erika and caught her watching him. Her interest gave him an odd feeling, but pleasurable and unsettling. What was he doing here? But then he realized, he enjoyed just being with Erika. The sound of her laughter entertained him, the curve of her hair against her cheek aroused him, her quick humor made him laugh. When her knee brushed his under the table, she quickly moved hers away. He felt sorry about that. The closeness of her body against his gave him an adrenaline rush he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Scalloped potatoes, chili, black-bean soup and homemade bread were all very good and he complimented the chefs. These women knew how to stretch a dollar and do it well. From what he overheard, they seemed to rely on each other for babysitting and rides to work when their cars broke down. Here, Erika was among friends who supported her.

Erika was fielding Emilia’s attempt to run around the table when Dillon caught sight of a young mother. She was holding the hand of a little boy who looked to be about five. As Dillon observed the child, he wondered if the boy had a fever. There was a glassy look to his eyes that Dillon didn’t like at all.

The women were mostly finished eating and talking among themselves. He pushed his chair back and casually made his way to the young woman and her child.

When he crouched down by the little boy, he said, “Hi, there. What’s your name?”

The little boy looked up at his mother.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“My name’s Kevin.”

Dillon extended his hand to the boy’s mother. “Dr. Traub.”

She took his hand hesitantly and shook it. “I’m Sue. Sue Kramer. Kevin isn’t feeling well. He has a sore throat.” Her arm went around her son’s shoulders.

Dillon felt Kevin’s forehead, then he took the boy’s pulse. It only took a few seconds for him to be able to tell Kevin’s heartbeat was fast. It was possible he could have strep, or it could simply be a virus. There was no way to know without a culture.

“I can’t really do a proper examination here,” Dillon said. “I’d like to make sure he doesn’t have strep throat.”

“Oh, but we don’t have any insurance,” she said, looking embarrassed.

“Do you have transportation?”

“Yes, my brother’s pickup truck. Why?”

Erika came over to them then and asked curiously, “What’s going on?”

“Kevin isn’t feeling well,” Dillon explained. “I’d like to take him to my office so I can examine him properly.”

“Where’s your office?” Sue asked.

“Thunder Canyon Resort.”

“You’re kidding! You want me to drive up there?”

Dillon could see she was uncomfortable with the idea.

“You really should get him checked out,” Erika advised her. “If you’re not comfortable going up there alone, I’ll come with you. I really should drop off Emilia first then we can meet you there.”

Sue looked from her son to Dillon, then at Erika. “I can’t pay him,” she said, her eyes becoming shiny.

Erika’s gaze settled on Dillon.

He made a quick decision on how to handle this. “You made that black-bean soup, right?” he asked Sue.

She nodded.

“I thought it was great. How about if the next time you make it, you drop off a serving for me. The restaurants are great at the resort, but the truth is I get tired of restaurant food. Your soup would make a great lunch.”

“You’re serious? I mean I could easily make you some next week.”

Dillon held out his hand to her. “It’s a deal.”

A smile came to Sue’s lips and she shook his hand again. “Okay.”

“We need about twenty minutes,” Erika told her. “Then head up to the resort.”

“I’ll wait in my car until you get there,” Sue told them, obviously not wanting to go inside by herself.

Dillon didn’t try to convince her otherwise. “We’ll meet you there,” Dillon assured her, then he pushed Kevin’s bangs across his forehead, remembering too vividly doing the same thing to Toby.

A little over an hour later, Dillon and Erika stood outside the side entrance to the main lobby of the Thunder Canyon Resort and watched the taillights of Sue’s truck pull away.

“I’m glad it wasn’t strep,” Erika remarked as she watched the truck wind down the hill away from the resort.

“It will just have to run its course. But the vaporizer I gave her to use should help.”

“Will the resort mind you giving that out?”

“She’ll bring it back when she brings the soup. There are plenty more in the supply closet.”

Erika turned to Dillon then, placing her hand on his arm. “That was a nice thing you did tonight.”

“What? Acting like a doctor? She had a sick child. I had to do what I could for her … for Kevin.”

The way Erika was looking at Dillon made him feel as if he’d accomplished some great feat. What she did next totally surprised him. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek.

Before he could stop himself, his arm went around her. She was slim but curvy and felt just right in his arms. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a sign that she was as interested in him as he was in her. The light from the entranceway illuminated the area so he could see she was willing to stay just where she was. The wind lightly pulled a few strands of her hair from its mooring in her bun and they blew across her cheek. Her dark eyes sparkled.

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, still looking up at him.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you.”

“Dillon, we shouldn’t even consider a kiss.”

“You kissed me,” he teased.

“That was just a thank-you kiss,” she whispered.

“Maybe this could just be a thank-you kiss.”

He really intended the kiss to be short and light and simple. But when his mouth settled on hers, when his heat ignited hers, it became more than a thank-you, more than short, much more than simple.

Her arms twined around his neck and he embraced her tighter. His mouth opened over hers and she responded in kind. She tasted so good, and she responded so passionately that his blood heated. He was more aroused than he’d been in years.

Then in a flashing instant, he felt the change. Her response came to a halt. He knew exactly what was going to happen. When he released his hold on Erika, she pulled out of his arms.

“I never should have done that,” she murmured, her hand over her mouth. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You weren’t thinking, and neither was I.”

She was shaking her head. “I can’t get involved. I have Emilia to think of. I never should have kissed you.”

He could see the panic in her eyes. The desire that had risen up in him when he’d taken her into his arms had rattled him, too. “Erika, it’s okay. It was only a kiss.”

“Only a kiss,” she agreed, looking over his shoulder and a little less panicked. “I hope no one saw us,” she murmured.

That made him frown. He wasn’t ashamed of being with her. They hadn’t done anything wrong.

But before he could put those thoughts into words, Erika stepped farther away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next moment she was running for her car, hopping inside, starting the engine. As she drove away, Dillon knew that taking advantage of her friendly kiss had been the wrong thing to do.