He was grateful for the change in subject. “Might is the key word. The potential for danger is always there—we train for it constantly. Fortunately, no one on the force in Ranger Springs has had to face a serious felony with weapons drawn.”
“Really? That’s saying a lot about the community.”
“It’s a good town. That’s why I chose their offer when I decided to leave the Bureau.”
Their salads came then, forestalling more serious conversation. As Ethan speared his lettuce and tomato, he knew that he’d have to finally say the words that would put his relationship with Robin on the back burner. He had to ignore the searing kiss they’d shared this afternoon…and focus again on the reasons why they had no future.
Throughout the meal, they commented on their entrées, the decor and the various people who seemed to be staring at them. Robin declined dessert, but he stalled a few minutes more because he was having a pretty good time, despite the reason for the date. Over coffee and a piece of pecan pie for him, Ethan mentally rehearsed what he’d say.
But not here in the restaurant. What had seemed like a good idea earlier, was, in reality, foolish. How could he concentrate on Robin with half the town looking over his shoulder or straining to hear his words?
“Why don’t we take a walk through the garden.”
AFTER THE SUN SET, the temperature dropped slowly to a bearable range. Walking out of the air-conditioned restaurant into the Texas night, Robin felt the residual heat of the day, but she was much more comfortable than she had been with the sun beating down on her. Like at the stream at midday…On that heated rock beside Ethan…
She had to quit thinking about that kiss.
“Would you like to sit?” he asked, as they reached the gazebo.
“Sure.” Bad news was always received better sitting down.
Ethan sat across from her, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped. He appeared a bit nervous, but resolute.
He’d come to the conclusion the kiss was a bad idea. No doubt about it.
“Robin, you know by now that I think you’re a very attractive woman.”
She nodded.
“I probably left you with the wrong impression earlier about my intentions.”
Here it comes. The explanation. The withdrawal.
“Ethan, you don’t have to explain yourself. I understand.”
“I know you understand about my former fiancées and my desire to live in a small town, but I’m not sure I made myself clear about how you fit into the picture.”
Robin tilted her head and looked intently at him. “I don’t fit into the picture.”
“That’s a blunt way to say it, but, yes, I suppose that’s right.” He leaned back on the gazebo’s wooden seat. “Ranger Springs could hardly support a decorator, and besides, I can’t see you giving up your life in Houston to settle in a place like this.”
She felt herself grow heated over his presumption. “I see. You’ve made a lot of assumptions about me, haven’t you.”
“I didn’t mean to sound critical. I’m not. Small-town life isn’t for everyone.”
Obviously he’d decided it wasn’t for her. “I realize that.”
“And I’m not going to leave here. So as much as I enjoy being around you, I can’t see a long-term relationship.”
Chapter Eleven
“Apparently you can’t see any type of relationship.”
He stiffened. “I’m the chief of police here, in a position of authority and in the spotlight from several angles. I can’t afford to have a hot, temporary affair.”
She felt the heat increase on her cheeks and neck, and knew she was blushing. Thank goodness for the darkness. “I don’t remember consenting to a hot affair.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to imply you had. I’m just trying to be honest.”
“What, exactly, are you saying?”
He leaned forward again, this time reaching for and capturing her hands. “I’d like nothing better than to indulge in a wonderful, mutually satisfying, hot and heavy relationship with you. For two weeks. For two months. But I can’t. I just want you to understand.”
“I think I’ve understood this from the beginning. You’re the one who seems confused.”
He straightened, letting go of her hands. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the one who almost kissed me in the car, ran out of your house, and kissed me beside the stream. Ethan, I haven’t been throwing myself at you.”
He pushed off the bench and began to pace. “I know you haven’t.” He stopped, then turned to face her. The faint light from the windows of the restaurant illuminated his features. “You didn’t have to do a thing. I wanted you the first time I saw you in the doorway of the Franklin house.”
She leaned against the post of the gazebo and folded her arms beneath her breasts. She remembered his comforting embrace. His hardness. His arousal. Now her heat increased. “Well, thanks, I suppose. I didn’t know I’d ever inspired that kind of passion.”
He shook his head. “I can’t speak for the rest of the male population. Maybe they’re blind. I felt a strong attraction to you from the beginning.”
“I felt the same for you, too, although I was confused. I didn’t want a relationship any more than you did. I thought we’d made that clear to each other.”
“It seemed to me the rules changed this afternoon.”
“If they did, you changed them.”
“Which is why I wanted to tell you again that I didn’t want to send the wrong signals.”
She frowned in skepticism. “You said earlier it was only a kiss.”
He ran a hand through his hair again. “I lied. You tied me in knots. I felt like I’d been caught up in a Texas twister.”
She felt some feminine smugness at his admission. “But you don’t want to do anything about it.”
“Wrong. I want to. Believe me, I really want to. But I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you, me or the people who care about us.”
“I’m not in the habit of asking for anyone else’s opinion when I make a decision.”
“And I’m in the habit of looking at how my decisions will be perceived by the citizens of this town.” He visibly stiffened. “If that sounds boring or unsophisticated to you, I’m sorry.”
She wanted to jump up and run out of the gazebo, but she didn’t. How far could you run from the chief of police in a town this small? “Then you’re right—you shouldn’t have a summer affair with a flighty decorator from Houston.” She held up a hand. “Even if she were offering.”
Ethan smiled tentatively. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was taking you for granted.”
“You made me sound like a sure thing.”
“I’m sorry. I was going at this from my point of view.”
Typically male, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. “I’m glad we have that out in the open. My only question is this—do you want me to continue with the house, as you said this afternoon, or have you had second thoughts about that, too?”
“No, I really like your ideas. I’d love for you to continue with the decorating.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Is there any way you can proceed without me being involved so much?”
Robin took in a deep breath, hiding the hurt of his withdrawal as best she could. “Of course. Give me a budget, and I’ll only need to consult with you on major purchases.”
“I can do that.”
“I will need your input occasionally.”
“Just let me know when and where, and I’ll be glad to cooperate.”
“We’ll need to go some places together. Not often—but if I see a large piece that I believe will be perfect, I’ll want your approval.”
“Sure.” He walked toward her, then took a seat beside her this time. “Look, I didn’t mean to sound like I couldn’t be around you. I just think it would be best if we limited our private time together.”
“To avoid temptation,” sh
e finished for him.
He looked at her in the dim light, his features softening. “Yes.”
His voice sounded so sexy and rough that she almost leaned toward him and captured his lips once more. Just to see if he was right. Just to see if this afternoon had been a fluke. The realization of how much she wanted him hit her hard, and she jumped up from the bench.
“We’d better be getting home,” she said quickly. “I’m sure you have an early morning.”
He straightened as if he, too, had suddenly become aware of the intimate setting. “Of course.”
They walked in silence to the Bronco, and drove to the Franklin house with only polite chitchat and observations between them.
In the driveway, as Ethan cut the engine, Robin reached for the door handle. “Thank you for dinner, Ethan.”
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“You don’t have to—” she started to say, but he was already out of the vehicle and walking around to her side.
They walked side by side to the front door. Robin felt the awkwardness of the situation like never before. Before, she’d experienced the underlying attraction and anticipation. Tonight, she felt the suppression of emotion between them.
This feeling was much worse.
“Thank you for having dinner with me,” Ethan said, as Robin fit the key in the lock.
“You’re welcome.” She pushed open the heavy wood door. “I imagine your aunt will be back soon.”
“Yes, I’m expecting her any day.”
“That’s good. I know she worries about your being alone.”
Ethan shrugged. “I’m a grown man, but sometimes she sees me as someone much younger.”
“I know what you mean. My great-aunt is the same. If our aunts were different, they wouldn’t have pushed us toward each other in their not-so-subtle way.”
He nodded, then took a deep breath. “Aunt Bess doesn’t understand why I’m reluctant to get involved again, but I do have a position in the community. I can’t go from woman to woman, getting involved and uninvolved on a whim.”
Robin shook her head. “She’s wrong.” So very, very wrong. “I can’t imagine a woman around who wouldn’t jump at the chance to spend time with you.”
“Right,” he scoffed. “They just don’t want to marry me.”
“Oh, Ethan, that’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? Look at my history.”
“Whatever happened between you and those two other women wasn’t because you’re unexciting. Believe me, I’m a really good judge of people. You are not boring.”
“I’m glad I have one person on my side,” he said with a touch of dark humor.
She shook her head again, but could tell he wasn’t convinced. And what could she do to show him how exciting he was to her? Certainly nothing that fell within the bounds of the much cooler relationship he’d defined earlier.
“Well, if I can’t convince you, I suppose I’ll just say good-night,” she said, when he remained stoic and silent.
There was a brief pause, then he leaned forward and gave her a sisterly peck on the cheek. He pulled away quickly, smiled awkwardly, and turned to walk toward his Bronco.
She placed her palm where his lips had touched her cheek. “Good night, Ethan,” Robin whispered into the silence of the night, but she felt as though she was saying goodbye to something very special.
BESS HADN’T BEEN HOME twenty-four hours when she decided to have lunch at the Four Square Café to get caught up on all the news. Specifically, news about Ethan and Robin, since her nephew wasn’t talking…darn it!
She walked in and looked around, immediately spotting Thelma and Joyce sitting at their usual table, as thick as thieves. Those two could gossip like no one else. She hurried toward them, intent on joining the conversation.
Thelma’s eyes lit up. “Bess! When did you get back?”
“Yesterday afternoon. It’s good to be home.”
“Did you have a good time?” Joyce asked.
“A wonderful time. It’s good to visit with old friends.” Bess sighed as she reached for a menu. “Of course, I always miss Ethan, and I worry about him being by himself for that long.” She glanced up briefly from perusing the menu she already knew by heart.
Thelma and Joyce exchanged meaningful glances, then Joyce said, “He hasn’t been alone all that much.”
Bess tried to appear shocked. “What do you mean?”
The waitress came then and took their orders. Bess tried to hide her impatience to get back to the subject.
“Ethan didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
The ladies proceeded to tell her about Ethan’s dates with Robin—from Wimberley to the latest at Bretford House. They seemed to take a lot of pleasure in the gossip, but then they became more serious.
“We’re glad Ethan is seeing someone again, Bess. But a decorator from Houston? She’s only here temporarily.”
“Who says? She might decide to stay.”
“She seems a little ill-equipped to live here. Why, I don’t think she can even cook! She tried to buy one of those fancy catered meals here in Ranger Springs.” Joyce leaned closer. “Probably for your nephew.”
Bess winced inwardly. That was her fault. She should have listened to Sylvia, who’d told her Robin couldn’t cook.
Thelma added, “We’d all like to see Ethan find someone suitable, but I’m not sure this young lady is the one.”
“I’ve known her great aunt for a long time,” said Bess. “Robin is really a very level-headed young woman.”
“If you say so,” Joyce said, patting Bess’s hand. “But remember, she is a decorator. You know how…unreliable those artistic types can be.”
ETHAN ARRIVED HOME to the welcome scent of fresh-baked rolls and pot roast. He knew he’d missed his aunt, but smelling her cooking made the sentiment that much sharper. He placed his hat on the peg beside the back door and walked through the kitchen.
“Aunt Bess, I’m home.”
“In here.”
He found her in the living room, arms folded beneath her breasts, staring at the fireplace wall. “What’s the matter?”
“Robin dropped off some sketches this afternoon. I’m trying to imagine what the brick would look like painted.”
“Robin came by the house?”
“Yes, she did. She said she didn’t want to bother you when you were home, so she chose the afternoon.”
“Really?” Ethan tried to appear casual, but as usual, the thought of Robin standing here earlier caused his pulse rate to increase a notch. “How was she?”
“She’s fine. Oh, a little quieter than I remembered, maybe.”
“Quieter? She’s not sick, is she?”
“No.” Bess chuckled. “My memory is probably failing me. She just seemed a little more…animated last time I saw her.”
Ethan felt the guilt kick in. He’d caused her sparkle to dim, but he didn’t know what to do about it. The best approach was to avoid the subject, he supposed, so he went back to the reason for Robin’s visit.
“She doesn’t like the brick?”
“No, she said it was too dated. Tan brick isn’t ‘in’ any longer. She thinks we should paint it to match the wall. She suggested a warm, kind of golden-beige color for the living room and a terracotta for the dining room.”
Ethan stood beside his aunt. “Gee, I don’t know. I guess she’s right.” He leaned over and kissed Bess’s forehead. “It’s good to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be back,” she said, patting his hand. “Although I’m not sure my temperament is going to tolerate much of this decorating.”
“If you don’t want me to change things, I’ll call her and cancel.”
“No!” Bess sounded alarmed. “I didn’t mean that at all. I think what she has planned will be great.”
“But you don’t like the fireplace idea?”
“Come to think of it, I like it fine.” She turned to him and smiled. “Why don’t
you get changed, and I’ll get the meal on the table.”
“Fine by me,” he said, already heading for the hall. “I’ll clean up.”
Aunt Bess was a sweetheart, he decided as he headed for the master bedroom. Even if she didn’t like what Robin had planned, she’d never stop him from making the changes. Bess wanted him to be happy, and if decorating the house in a style Robin called “Southwestern country” was the answer, then Bess would go along.
He suspected she’d rather have the fussy type of furniture she’d used in her room, but she’d never suggest it for him. Thank goodness.
Robin, on the other hand, wanted him to be very satisfied with his choices.
What had started out as a way for her to stay busy and out of his hair had backfired, and the only person he could blame was himself. However, he felt their talk the other night, despite the parts where he’d blown it, had gone well. She understood why he couldn’t get involved, why he didn’t want a casual summer fling.
Oh, hell, he admitted to himself as he stripped off the uniform shirt, of course he wanted a summer affair. But he was afraid he wouldn’t want it to end come August or September. He’d want Robin in his life—and what kind of pain would that cause? Lots.
He hadn’t been madly in love with Belinda, his second fiancée, and look at the damage her rejection had caused. The town had rallied around him, but for at least six months after the botched wedding, their sympathetic looks and well-meaning but probing questions left him gritting his teeth in frustrated anger. And Belinda? She’d never come back to Ranger Springs to shop or visit, as far as he knew. Now, two years later, he felt foolish for thinking their marriage might work, and sympathy toward a shy young woman who didn’t deserve to be shunned by the town she enjoyed visiting.
He probably hadn’t really been in love with Monica, either, although it had seemed like the real thing at the time. After all, if he’d really loved her, he would have found a way to compromise around her career. He did feel some lingering anger over the way she’d dumped him, though. Monica was an intelligent, take-charge kind of woman. She should have had the guts to tell him to his face that she didn’t want to marry him and live in Ranger Springs. If she’d loved him, she would have, wouldn’t she?
The Bachelor Project Page 13
