The Bachelor Project

by Victoria Chancellor

  “I don’t have many ideas…about decorating,” he added, as she sat beside him on the couch. She would have taken a chair across from him, but the only one available was a huge recliner that looked as if it would swallow her whole. Since it was positioned directly in front of the big-screen television, she assumed this was Ethan’s “throne” during his hours off.

  “Surely you’ve seen something in the magazines you liked,” she said, indicating the small stack she’d left on the coffee table while she’d looked around and measured the rooms. She knew perfectly well he’d barely studied the decorating journals, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She wanted this job to be a joint effort, not some stylistic approach she decided on her own. Unless her clients specifically said they had no ideas and did not want to become involved, she preferred to suggest options and get input from them on the place where they’d be living.

  “Um,” he said, his gaze fixed on her mouth for the tenth time since she’d arrived at his house. “I really didn’t look that closely…at the magazines,” he finished, turning his attention back to the selections she’d brought.

  You might have, if you’d been paying attention to the decorating, not the decorator, she silently admonished. “Let’s look at them together, then,” she suggested, scooting a bit closer and picking up her favorite that contained an article on Texas-style furnishings. The photos had been taken not far from here, in another small town, Bandera. The decorator had overdone the cowboy chic, Robin suspected, because that’s what New York editors and transplanted northerners expected from a Texas designer. Still, there were many good ideas to consider.

  “What do you think about this?” Robin asked, turning to the marked page.

  “Aunt Bess wouldn’t like it,” he said bluntly.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’d feel like I was sitting in the middle of a theme restaurant.”

  Robin laughed. “I know what you mean. How about if there were fewer branding irons and less movie memorabilia? Would you like it then?”

  Ethan made a face she could only describe as cautiously disparaging. “No, I don’t think so. I guess it would be fine for a little boy’s room, but not for me.”

  “Now I’m going to have to accuse you of being a male chauvinist. I’ll have you know little girls like Western themes, too.”

  “Okay, I get your point. But I’m not a child, and I think this is too fussy in the leather-denim-rusty horseshoe style.”

  Robin laughed. “Fair enough.” She put the magazine back on the stack. She didn’t need Ethan’s reminders that he wasn’t a child. The more time she spent around him, the more adult male he became. Luckily, he was an adult male client.

  She selected a magazine containing a French country motif she liked. The furniture was solid enough for a man like Ethan, but there were decorative touches his aunt would like, as well. “Take a look at this.”

  He didn’t wrinkle his nose this time, but he didn’t appear excited by the style, either. “I’m not sure. There’s still a lot of…stuff in the room.”

  “So you’d rather stay with a more open arrangement.”

  “I suppose.” He looked as though he was getting a headache.

  She placed the magazine on the stack and straightened them, then turned to Ethan. “Why don’t I leave these with you so you can take a look at your leisure? Just mark the pages of anything you like, whether it’s a lamp or a couch or a paint color. When we get together next time, we’ll look over your selections.”

  “When are we getting together again?” he asked quietly, his gaze straying once more to her mouth, then back to her eyes.

  She drew in a breath, reminding herself not to think anything of Ethan’s awareness. He probably behaved this way around all women. He was just a sexy guy. He couldn’t help it if his natural expressions made a woman go weak in the knees and lose her train of thought.

  “The sooner the better,” she heard herself say, then closed her eyes in embarrassment. The words had come out breathy, suggestive. “I mean—because we’re working on a tight schedule, we have to make some decisions soon.”

  “Because you’re not going to be in town very long,” he said, his own expression changing to a more businesslike one.

  “Exactly. I’m planning on staying through July.” Unless she ignored her own advice and messed up her friendly, professional relationship with Ethan. She had no intention of allowing this unwanted and inappropriate reaction to escalate. Because if she did something wild and crazy, like revealing her attraction to the sexy bachelor, she’d have to leave with her tail tucked between her legs.

  “How about tomorrow, then? Come around one o’clock, and I’ll fix us something to eat after church. Aunt Bess stocked the freezer with meals, and there’s plenty for two.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “She’ll be upset if she comes home and finds a full freezer. Besides, I’m certain she’d want her best friend’s great-niece to have a little company.”

  The aunts again. How could she say no to such logic? “Only if you promise to study those magazines. We have to decide on a style. Oh, and if you have any collections, from baseball memorabilia to Christmas ornaments, show me tomorrow. A theme or focal point would go a long way toward getting us started.”

  “I’m not much of a collector.”

  “Whatever you have. Think about it.”

  “I will.” His gaze strayed once more to her lips, then he jerked his head around and pushed himself up from the sofa. “Thank you for coming over.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to the project.”

  He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the awful oil painting over the couch. “I imagine you are.”

  Robin smiled. “You could have a yard sale when we’re finished.”

  “I think I’ll donate it to the new community center.”

  “They’ll be thrilled,” Robin said, tongue in cheek.

  “Don’t get smart with me,” he teased, “or I’ll decide this painting absolutely has to stay.”

  “A theme of sand dunes and pastels.” Robin pursed her lips and tapped a finger against her mouth. “I can see it now—seashell plant hangers, ceiling-high sea grasses, pinkish-beige walls and carpet. Of course, we’ll need to install a large aquarium in the wall.”

  “Very funny.” He chuckled as they walked toward the door. “I’ll see what I can find so we don’t get stuck with cheesy seascapes.”

  “You do that.” Robin hugged her binder and tape measure to her chest. “Have a good day, Ethan.”

  His gaze seemed to caress her in a very unprofessional manner. At least he hadn’t leaned toward her, or put his hands on her. She might forget all about her good intentions. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’ll be here.” She smiled to break the tension. “Now get busy and find something for me to work with.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  ETHAN CLOSED THE DOOR, then leaned against the solid wood as he let out a long, deep breath. He’d almost blown it. As he’d watched Robin walk through his rooms, he’d nearly gotten up a dozen times and taken her in his arms. He’d had no idea how seeing her in his house would affect him. He’d assumed—naively, he now realized—that he could interact with her on a professional level and not want to kiss her until all thoughts of business vanished from her head.

  He pushed away from the door and walked into the kitchen. At least she was only working on the living and dining rooms. If she’d ventured into his bedroom, he wasn’t sure how he would have reacted. Followed her inside? Taken her in his arms? Asked her if she’d like to check out his king-size bed?

  “Stop it,” he mumbled as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a cold can of soda. He rested the frosty metal against his forehead. Had he been a complete fool when he’d impulsively asked Robin to decorate his home? Hiring her seemed such a good idea at the time. Knowing how she longed to express her creativity, how lonely she must
be in Ranger Springs, how she probably needed something to fill her days…

  What had he gotten himself into?

  He popped the soda cap and took a long drink. As soon as he finished mowing, he decided, he’d take a look around for something from his childhood. Maybe he’d call his mother and ask her for advice, although explaining to her that he was working with a decorator would no doubt have her rolling around laughing. She’d often commented that he’d made “bachelor chic” a permanent part of his life.

  Maybe she wasn’t just talking about his decorating, come to think of it.

  Frowning, he walked through the living room and stared at the magazines Robin had left. Tonight he’d look through every page of them between innings of the ball game. After all, he didn’t have a date. He didn’t have to work. And the quicker he came up with his personal preferences, the faster Robin could get busy decorating.

  He hadn’t been this distracted and out of control since high school—and he really didn’t like the feeling.

  Chapter Seven

  For the first time since moving to Ranger Springs, Robin felt excited about getting up every day. She wasn’t making as much progress as she usually did with a client, but at least the company was great. Even keeping her project secret from the citizens of the small town proved to be fun and challenging.

  She’d never before heard as many thinly veiled questions about who she was working for as she had in the last several days. Jimmy Mack at the hardware store guessed a different person each time he saw her, which was often, since she kept going in for paint swatches and samples of molding. Thelma and Joyce, regulars during lunch at the Four Square Café, guessed she’d been hired by the Franklins, but Gina put a stop to those speculations. One day while she stood in line to cash a small check, Robin overheard the pastor of the Methodist church ask the banker if he’d hired her to redecorate his house.

  All the mystery was really quite amusing…until she heard rumors that she and Ethan were dating. Apparently no one put two and two together and figured out he was her client. Or perhaps they just couldn’t believe the single chief of police would want his home decorated.

  If his neighbors had seen her coming and going in the late afternoon or evening, what did they think she was bringing over in her overstuffed purse and binder? Massage oil and risqué photos? And what about that stack of magazines? Did they believe Ethan needed a little encouragement from Playboy? She had no idea how the mind of a small-town resident worked, but Robin found the process amusing, as long as Ethan suffered no repercussions.

  Over the past three days, he no longer looked at her constantly, or made remarks that could be taken more than one way. She wasn’t sure if increased contact had made her less appealing to him, or if her first visit to his house had been just a fluke. Whatever the reason, she felt much more relaxed when they met to discuss a decorating strategy.

  At least they’d finally decided on one: Southwestern country. Ethan had discovered an old arrowhead collection in his closet, and remembered a favorite Native American blanket from his childhood. He’d called his mother, and she’d located the piece at the family home in West. Robin was looking forward to seeing the blanket, which was to arrive in the mail today. She hoped some of the paint colors she wanted to use would compliment the vivid design so common in the woven works of art. A combination of heavy pine furniture and “homey” touches would bring life to the bland interior of the house.

  Today, now that they’d chosen the basics, they were going on their first shopping excursion to see if they could find appropriate accessories. Ethan’s fear of being caught shopping at an antique mall or gift store was almost comical, except that Robin could understand his misgivings. He simply didn’t want to become the topic of conversation for folks in town, whether they were speculating on who he was dating or whether he was redecorating his house. As a public figure, he was automatically in the spotlight, but he also had a right to privacy.

  She pulled into his driveway and parked beneath the low branches of a cottonwood tree, out of sight of the road. Ethan pushed open the back door, apparently in a hurry to be on the road.

  Or in a hurry to have this task over, she thought with a smile. She knew many men viewed shopping as slow torture.

  “Ready?” he asked, jingling his keys as he headed for the Bronco.

  “I’m ready. Did the blanket come yet?” He opened the door for her, ever the gentleman, and she slid into the passenger seat. At least in his larger vehicle, they’d have enough room to bring home any treasures they might find.

  “No, but it should be here this afternoon.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to seeing it with the colors we’ve chosen.”

  Ethan walked around the Bronco, his posture a bit more tense than usual. Robin wanted to ask him why, but she felt the inquiry would sound too personal.

  “Are you sure this place in San Marcus will have something I’ll like?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel.

  “You can never be certain of specific inventories, but they specialize in Texas memorabilia and accessories.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding about as excited as if he were attending his own execution. He pulled out of his driveway onto the road.

  Robin laughed. “Don’t overwhelm me with your enthusiasm.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not good at this sort of thing.”

  “How do you know?” She looked around as they passed many of the businesses she’d grown accustomed to in such a short period. Ranger Springs no longer seemed so foreign, although she did miss the amenities of the big city. And the money—she definitely missed having an income.

  He frowned. “I don’t know. It’s kind of like picking out china and stuff, isn’t it?”

  “Now, what do you know about picking out china patterns?” she teased.

  “Not very damn much,” he grumbled. “Never mind. I’ll be fine.”

  “I have faith you’ll be fine once we get there. How long will that take?”

  “About a half-hour.” He scowled at the road ahead. “Slump down in your seat, okay? We’re about to pass Susie, and she’s coming out of Joyce’s beauty shop. If she sees you with me, I’m dead meat.”

  Robin giggled as she hunched down as far as the seat belt would allow. “This town has you wrapped around its finger,” she observed with good-natured criticism. “And I’ll bet most people think you’re really in charge, don’t they.”

  “I have no idea,” he said nonchalantly. “I’m just trying to avoid more gossip.”

  “More?”

  “You can get up now. We’re on the state highway, so we probably won’t see anyone else who’ll be able to recognize you.”

  “Seriously, have you been the subject of a lot of gossip?”

  He paused before answering the question. “I don’t know. Not a lot, but there was a time…Let’s just say that the people of this town took an interest in my personal life a few years ago and haven’t let go since.”

  “Will you tell me why?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  Robin pursed her lips and settled back into the seat. Another facet to Ethan’s character she had yet to uncover. She’d thought she’d created a pretty comprehensive inventory of his traits the other night, but obviously her list wasn’t complete. He had secrets he wanted to hide from her. Apparently everyone else in town knew the story.

  Of course, he had said “not yet” instead of shutting her out completely. Maybe he was planning on revealing more to her later. Robin decided to wait for Ethan to tell her.

  They traveled in silence for several miles. Robin enjoyed watching the countryside pass by quickly. This drive wasn’t as scenic as the one they’d taken to the German restaurant the other night, but she enjoyed seeing the rock-strewn hills, occasional cattle and ever-present, scrubby cactus that grew alongside tall prairie grasses and scattered clumps of red and yellow wildflowers.

  Soon they neared San Marcus, a picturesque college town that
also boasted Aquarena Springs. When she was younger, she remembered, she’d seen travel brochures featuring Ralph, the diving pig. She’d always wanted to see Ralph, but her parents hadn’t considered a trip from Houston to San Marcus a top priority. Later, Great-aunt Sylvia had explained that there wasn’t just one Ralph, but a series of piglets who dived into the clear springs to cheering audiences. She’d said Robin could go later because there would always be a new Ralph, but Robin wondered if that was true.

  She was going to ask Ethan about Ralph, but he looked even more grim as they approached I-35. The antique mall was located on the service road, not far away.

  She wanted to place her hand on his arm, to comfort him, but his expression kept her from acting on her instincts. She settled on verbal reassurances. “Ethan, I hope we can enjoy ourselves.”

  He looked doubtful. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Just don’t expect a lot of input from me.”

  “You need to tell me what you like.”

  “Hey, I’m the guy with the boring beige sofa and white walls, remember? Doesn’t that tell you something about my taste?”

  “No, not really.” She watched as he maneuvered into the parking lot. “You didn’t have many options before.”

  “What makes you think I would have chosen something different if I did have other choices?”

  She frowned as she considered his question. Why was he putting himself down? She’d seen far more atrocious furnishings than his rather bland living and dining rooms. “I think you’re just nervous about shopping.”

  He turned the key, shutting off the engine. “I’m not nervous. I’m just not good at this sort of thing.”

  “So you’ve already claimed. And I’d just like to say that you’ve never been shopping with me.”

  “You may be real disappointed.” He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.

  “With you? I doubt it.” But he was already walking around toward the passenger side.

  “Don’t say you weren’t forewarned,” he said as he opened her door. “I’m not exactly Mr. Excitement, you know.”