by Brenda Novak
“You won’t find a prettier outfit,” the salesclerk said with an encouraging smile.
With what Dakota had done to her body, and what she’d had to work with from the beginning, anything would look good. But Tyson didn’t want to sit around, watching her try on a dozen different items. Seeing the clothes come on and off that many times would only make it harder for him to keep his hands to himself.
With a sigh, he handed the salesclerk his VISA. “You win.”
* * *
“SO YOU’RE ON the pill?”
Dakota glanced at the tables closest to them to make sure Tyson hadn’t been overheard. “Do we have to talk about this in a restaurant?”
“I’m just asking.”
She noticed that he hadn’t eaten very much of his clam chowder. “I thought you were hungry.”
“Not so much anymore.” He added pepper to his soup. “Are you going to answer me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you’re going to answer me? Or yes, you’re really on the pill?”
Taking the package from her purse, she slid it across the table. “Here. You can see for yourself.”
He didn’t seem particularly pleased. “Where’d you get this?”
She leaned closer to him so she wouldn’t have to speak very loudly. “There’s a Planned Parenthood here in town. I drove past it, realized what it was and turned around.”
He added additional pepper to his chowder, which was already more black than white. “You’re serious about this party.”
She sat up straight and ate another bite of her salad. “What do you mean, serious?”
“You thinking you might…you know, finally do it?”
The waitress came by to fill their water glasses. Dakota waited until she moved on to respond. “I’m twenty-six. I figure it’s time to do something.”
“With someone else.”
Dakota didn’t want to contemplate that, couldn’t even imagine it. But she also couldn’t imagine how badly it’d hurt when Tyson left if she didn’t at least try to protect herself from falling any further in love with him. He’d had a lot of relationships; she’d had very few. She was at a distinct disadvantage. “I don’t think we should talk about this,” she said.
“I want to know.”
“If the situation is right, and the timing is right…I guess. Maybe. I’d like to meet someone someday who might actually fall in love with me. And sex is part of that.”
“You have to be careful, Dakota.”
“That’s why you’re in charge of quality control.”
He frowned. “What’s quality control?”
“Introducing me to the right kind of guy. You mentioned a Quentin Somebody. You thought we might be good for each other.”
“Quentin won’t work.”
He stated this so authoritatively, she stopped eating. “Why not?”
“He’s too…ready for marriage.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“You don’t want to commit to the first guy you meet. Besides, I don’t like his mother. I’ve met her, and she’s too bossy. You wouldn’t want an interfering mother-in-law, would you?”
“You didn’t mention his mother before.”
“It didn’t occur to me. Besides, that was back when this idea seemed like a good one.”
Wariness crept up on Dakota. “What’s changed?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“That’s why you’re introducing me to other men, isn’t it?”
He hesitated, so she jumped in again. “At any rate, I don’t have a better plan. And aren’t there other guys who’ll be coming, guys who don’t have meddling mothers?”
“I guess.”
“Who?”
“John Sykes, Danny Carruth—”
“John looks cute on television,” she said, taking another bite of her salad.
“You watch football?” He sounded inordinately pleased.
“I’ll sit through a game or two with my father every once in a while.”
The “pleased” moment passed. “You think John’s cute, huh?”
“Sort of.”
“How cute?”
“Just…cute, okay?”
“Well, John won’t work.”
“Why not?”
He used the pepper again. “He’s too big a baby. Whines about everything.”
“And Danny?”
“Danny weighs over three hundred pounds.” More pepper. “He’s going to die of a heart attack before the age of fifty. You don’t want to be a young widow, do you?”
She reached out and took the shaker away from him. “I can’t pine for you forever, Tyson.”
He shot her a disgruntled glance. “I’m only asking for a few weeks,” he said sulkily.
When she laughed, he responded with a boyish grin that nearly melted her resistance right then and there. She had a feeling she’d pine forever, regardless. But she had to do something to save herself. If they canceled the party, she wouldn’t meet anyone new, and after Tyson moved away, her life would go back to the way it had been before he arrived.
She couldn’t face that dismal prospect. Not after she’d had it so much better.
“Come on,” she said, using a conciliatory tone. “I went to a lot of work for this body. I might as well see if anyone likes it.”
His smile vanished and he grabbed for the pepper. “Are you trying to ruin my lunch?”
“Maybe.”
He didn’t ask why. Dakota knew he didn’t need to. They both understood the reason already.
* * *
TYSON FROWNED at the scar on his knee. He had less than five weeks before he had to report to Los Angeles, and he wasn’t ready. Because of some torn cartilage, which seemed to be taking forever to heal, he was in the worst physical shape he’d ever been in. And he wasn’t making a lot of progress.
Lance, the trainer Gabe had lined up, was hunkered down to examine his leg, his face showing concern. A tall, soft-spoken man with blond hair and blue eyes who preached against fast food and trans fat, he took his job seriously. “Is it bothering you already?” he asked.
“Just a few minor twinges,” Tyson said.
“Then why are you frowning?”
Tyson peeled off his sweaty T-shirt and threw it at the hamper in the corner of Gabe’s gym. “I don’t know.”
Lance rocked back on his heels, resting an elbow on his own knee. “You’re distracted. But who wouldn’t be with what you’re going through?”
Tyson shrugged, letting the trainer believe it was the problems he was having with Rachelle that were bothering him. But now that he was tucked away in the mountains and the rest of the world seemed to be moving on without him, his lack of focus had just as much to do with Dakota. She was different since he’d come home. Despite her rejection of his offer for a brief but torrid affair, she was acting a bit reckless. And that tempted him to be reckless, too.
He remembered the way she’d brushed up against him this morning while reaching around him for the sugar, could still feel the soft give of her breast as it came into contact with his arm. When he’d moved to get out of the way, she’d curved her lips into a taunting, purely feminine smile.
She knew she was driving him crazy; she was doing it on purpose.
“Let’s do another circuit.” Lance tapped him on the shoulder, and Tyson forced himself to move. He needed to burn off as much testosterone as possible.
* * *
TYSON WAS IN the family room watching some football DVDs his coach had sent when he heard the doorbell. Dakota answered and told someone thank you. Then there was the rumble of a big truck pulling out of the drive, and his stomach sank.
“The packages you sent from L.A. have arrived!” she called.
He’d guessed as much. Thank goodness Lance was gone. “The big one’s for Braden.”
“You sent something to Braden?”
The surprise in her voice did nothing to improve his mood. “Even ogres lik
e me have an occasional weak moment.”
She came to the doorway and waited until he turned to look at her. “Should we bring them in here so you can see us open them?”
“No.” The last thing he needed was to watch Dakota pull that sheer bra and those “barely there” panties from the box.
“You are being an ogre,” she said. “You’ve been grumpy all day.”
“I’m busy.” He skipped back ten minutes or so on the DVD because he hadn’t been paying attention to it. He was busy but not with what he should be doing. He was busy wanting something he couldn’t have.
“Fine.” She took Braden, who’d crawled into the room as she left. From there, Tyson heard no response to the packages. No noise. No nothing.
He tapped his fingers on the leather couch, wondering what she thought of what he’d sent. “Do you like it?” he asked at last.
“Braden loves his stuffed dog. So do I. I’ve never seen one quite so big.”
He waited but she didn’t continue. “And you?”
“I don’t know,” she called back. “I didn’t open it.”
“Why not?”
“I’m pretty busy myself.”
“Fine,” he said. “Bring the gift to me, then. I’m not going to give it to you.”
She appeared in the doorway. “You’re taking it back?” Her voice sounded far less strident.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” He wasn’t about to have her wear that lingerie for someone else, regardless of his intentions when he’d bought it. He suspected he hadn’t purchased it for the sake of someone else to begin with, but that was more self-analysis than he considered wise at the moment. Some things were better ignored than explored.
“Here.” She walked over and dropped the box on the couch. “I didn’t want it anyway.”
Right. Her disappointment at losing the gift was as easy to read as her stubborn pride. “You’re making this difficult,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m making what difficult?”
Pausing the DVD, he put the box in his lap, intending to hide it or burn it or…something. “Living in the same house.”
“I’m cooking and cleaning and taking care of Braden. How is that making anything difficult for you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
Tossing aside the box and the remote, he got up and closed the distance between them. She retreated as he advanced, but soon backed into a wall, and he put one hand between her and the door before she could move to the exit. “You’re punishing me for not being able to give you what you want.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“No, I’m not.” He arched an eyebrow as he gazed down at her. “But I think you should take this as fair warning.”
“Fair warning of what?”
He kissed her hard, as he’d wanted to kiss her in the dressing room. “I’ll only let you push me so far.”
She was breathing heavily, from anger and excitement if she was experiencing anything close to what he was feeling. “Before…?”
“Before I carry you upstairs and have you begging me to show you what making love is all about.”
They stared at each other for a long time. Then she wet her lips and seemed to soften. “Why would that be so bad again?”
He longed to pin her against the wall and kiss her hungrily, to let that act lead to its natural conclusion. But he didn’t want to be too rough. Dipping his head, he touched his lips to hers, barely letting their tongues meet, using everything he’d ever learned about kissing a woman to coax her into changing her mind. He thought he might be getting close when the tension went out of her body and she sighed in satisfaction. “It wouldn’t be bad,” he whispered. “It’d be good. Damn good. I promise.”
“This is good,” she murmured, and she was right. The desire that flowed through him was more intoxicating than liquor.
Her arms went around his neck, and when his hands slipped under her shirt, she didn’t stop him. At the feel of her soft flesh, he pulled back to catch his breath. He needed to calm down, take his time, make sure she enjoyed every second as much as he did. But he was feeling a little shaky and out of control, which was a new sensation for him.
“God, I want to make love to you,” he whispered.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were large, luminous, beautiful. “Do it.”
His heart pumped faster. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
“And afterward, you’ll be okay, right?” He cupped her breast as he’d longed to do that day in the dressing room. “You can take what we’re about to do in stride?”
Doubt entered her eyes. “How can I take it in stride when I’ve never done it before?”
“It’s…it’s an attitude. Just an attitude.” One she clearly didn’t possess. Damn it!
“I don’t know how I’m going to feel.”
That admission caused his conscience to start nagging him again. He didn’t want to leave Dakota any worse off than he’d found her, didn’t want to ruin the beauty of her trusting heart. “Dakota, I have to make sure you go into this with your eyes open,” he explained. “I can show you a good time and…and I can provide you with some nice things before I go, which I plan to do anyway, but I can’t give you any more than that. You have to understand, okay?”
She caught the hand that was cupping her breasts and moved it away. “You’re saying you want to make love to me but you don’t love me, right?”
“I’m saying…” What was he saying? He could feel what he wanted getting away from him, but didn’t know how to stop it without being an insensitive jerk. “I’m saying it can’t go anywhere after whatever happens here.”
“I see.” She nodded as a small, rather forced-looking smile curved her lips. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not…cosmopolitan enough to look at it the way I should, after all,” she said, and then she slipped away.
Tyson stood where he was, trying to let some of the emotion drain out of him, but it didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Give it time. Get a grip. She was right to have stopped what was happening. She deserved more. And when it came time for him to fly home, he’d be damn glad he didn’t have anything to seriously regret.
But that didn’t stop him from feeling like shit right now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grandpa Garnier: Speak your mind but ride a fast horse.
DAKOTA SAT ON HER BED, trying to recover from the maelstrom of emotions assaulting her. When she closed her eyes, she could still taste Tyson, still smell him. And even though he’d made it crystal clear that his feelings did not echo hers, she still wanted him.
“Quit being an idiot,” she told herself. “How many times does he have to warn you to guard your heart?”
At the bottom of the stairs Braden was starting to fuss. He’d probably seen her storm past him and done what he could to follow. She should’ve brought him up with her, but she’d been too upset to think of anything except getting away from Tyson.
“Da…da…da!” he babbled. That was usually all it took to bring her running, but she wasn’t thrilled about the possibility of bumping into Tyson again. Surely Braden could wait a few minutes, let her regroup.
“Da…DA…DA!”
“Hang on, sweetheart,” she muttered. “I need a minute.”
What was she going to do? It was stupid to compound her problems by wishing for something she could never have. If she wanted to improve her life, she had to forget Tyson and find someone else, someone who was emotionally accessible.
Getting up, she fingered the outfit hanging in her closet, the one she planned to wear this weekend. Hopefully, she’d meet someone at the party. It’d be easier to get over Tyson if she could distract herself with another relationship, even if that relationship only widened her circle of friends. She hadn’t realized how limited she’d allowed her life to become. Maybe she had to stay in Dundee and take care of her father, but she
could change other aspects of her life. Reach out. Have fun. Spice things up. Without money and without freedom, she’d fallen into such a terrible rut.
Braden wasn’t fussing anymore. Hurrying into the hall to make sure he was okay, she saw Tyson lifting him off the bottom stair. Their eyes met as he glanced up at her, but Dakota refused to feel anything. He was her employer, she told herself firmly. If he was also kind enough to introduce her to some teammates, she was going to take advantage of the opportunity. She was losing her perspective only because being with a man like Ty had made her almost painfully aware that somewhere along the line she’d quit really living. She’d gone through the motions, but she hadn’t had any real hope or happiness, hadn’t felt anything anymore.
At least nothing like what she’d experienced since coming to the cabin. Now she was feeling the flipside of those missing emotions—disappointment and pain. But she supposed she had to accept the bad along with the good.
She hesitated, wondering whether she should go down and take the baby. But Braden seemed happy in his father’s arms. And Tyson acted as if he had the situation under control. He stared at her for a second, then carried the baby back into the living room.
The phone rang while Dakota was standing in the hall, and she hurried to her room to answer it. Thanks partially to the photo of her taken at the cabin, other members of the press had placed Tyson in Dundee and a few of the more tenacious reporters were trying to contact him. Because of that, Dakota had been fielding all incoming calls, and it became her job to tell everyone he wasn’t available for comment. But this time Tyson answered the phone himself. She heard him say hello just as she picked up the handset.
“Mr. Garnier?”
“Yes?”
Dakota had already started to hang up so that she wouldn’t be eavesdropping when she jerked the phone back to her ear. It was Mrs. Cottle, who owned the pharmacy. Dakota hadn’t immediately recognized the voice because Mrs. Cottle sounded so uncharacteristically hesitant.
