The CEO's Unexpected Proposal

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Don’t tell me you like this,” she said a bit breathlessly as he came closer to her.

  “I think I’d like anything you wore. But this—” He waved at her from shoulder to shoe. “This is hot.”

  She knew her face was probably beet red. “I’m not hot,” she murmured.

  His grin vanished and he frowned. “Why do you think that?”

  She hadn’t told many people about Alan, only Celeste and Jenny. Not even her aunt. Still, she wanted Dawson to understand why she sometimes pulled away, why she didn’t always believe the desire in his eyes, or the want-to-kiss-you-look that came over his face.

  “The night of the prom, I learned that men…some men,” she amended, “want sex from a woman and don’t care how they get it.”

  “Mikala,” Dawson said, shaking his head. “He was a teenage thug.”

  “I know. Part of me knew it even then. But what happened that night still set the stage for how I looked at myself and how I thought men looked at me. You rescued me and I knew you weren’t like Carson. But that was different because we were friends.”

  “Maybe more if I hadn’t moved away,” Dawson reminded her.

  “Maybe. But you did move away and I went to college.”

  “And you met someone.”

  “Someone who I thought I loved, and who loved me back, suddenly decided to go on the road with a band instead of earning his degree. But the reason he wanted to go on the road with that band was because he was in love with the lead singer—a very sexy lead singer.”

  Dawson was quiet for a few moments but then said, “I’m sorry you felt deserted again. But don’t you realize his desertion had more to do with him than you?”

  She felt a smile tease her lips. “I’m the counselor, remember?”

  “Yes, you are.” Then Dawson was right there in front of her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against him. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, fascinating woman who doesn’t understand her own worth. You’re also a very sexy woman.” He ran his hands down her back, over her waist, down her hips. She could feel his arousal and she knew hers was matching it.

  “You’re sexy whether you realize it or not,” he went on. “Whether you want to be or not. When I kiss you, your passion breaks free. Most of the time you hide it, but it’s there, Mikala. I can feel it and see it and taste it.”

  She trembled under his hands…under his words. She did want him, almost desperately. Yet she didn’t want to be in an affair that failed. She didn’t want to come between him and his son. She didn’t want to be a stopgap measure for Dawson while he pulled his life back together.

  Taking another very deep breath, she pushed away and slowly shook her head.

  But Dawson wasn’t letting her turn him down that easily. “It’s the gift, isn’t it? It reminded you that your mother left and you think everybody else will, too. Can’t you look at that gift and just think your mother remembered you?”

  “She remembered me from a distance.”

  “You keep people at a distance, Mikala—except for Aunt Anna, Celeste and Jenny. Do you let anyone else get close?”

  “I have to have a balance. I have to keep perspective, especially with my clients.”

  “I’m talking about your personal life. You’re so busy trying to avoid getting hurt that you don’t take a chance.”

  “What do you want me to take a chance on, Dawson? Do you know for sure you’re going to stay in Miners Bluff? Isn’t all of your attention focused on Luke? A chance is one thing, a monumental risk is another.”

  Dawson studied her for several very long moments. “The outfit looks good, no matter what you think. Maybe your mother knows you better than you believe. Maybe she has regrets about the distance between the two of you.”

  He started for the door then stopped. “I respect your feelings, Mikala, but you can’t let your life be run by fear.”

  As Dawson left her office, Mikala sank into a chair, unbuckled the sandals and felt like crying.

  * * *

  Mikala was seated at her desk in the elementary school a few days later on her lunch break when the phone on her desk rang.

  “Yes,” she answered brightly, expecting to hear one of the teachers she worked with.

  “Mikala?”

  It wasn’t one of the teachers. It was the principal. “Phil! Hi.”

  “Mikala, I have a situation here and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “A situation?” Maybe it was regarding one of her students.

  “I have Luke Barrett in my office. He was just in a fight in the schoolyard. I have his father’s numbers but I can’t reach him. Luke tells me he had a business meeting. I have your name and number as the person to call if I couldn’t reach him.”

  She remembered Dawson asking her permission to do that and she’d agreed. “I see. Is Luke hurt?”

  “Well, yes, that’s why I buzzed you. The nurse has examined him and I think he’s just going to have a shiner. He needs to keep ice on it. I imagine his father might want to have him checked out at the urgent care center. We’ll have to notify him that Luke will have a day of in-school suspension.”

  “I’ll be right down.” She and Luke were stirring things up in therapy. He’d become very agitated when she’d wanted to talk to him about his drive home in the snow with his dad, when she’d wanted him to think about everything he’d remembered the day they’d gone tubing. So what had happened today? Was Luke acting out? Or was something else going on?

  When she reached the principal’s office, the secretary motioned her inside. “He’s waiting for you.”

  The door was slightly ajar and Mikala peeked in. Luke was sitting morosely in a captain’s chair against the wall. Phil was at his desk, saw her and motioned her in.

  Luke looked as if he’d gotten the worst of the fight. He was definitely going to have a black eye and there was a big, bright red brush burn along one side of his jaw. He was holding an ice pack to his eye, and when he looked up at her, there was defiance in his gaze.

  “Luke, do you want to tell Miss Conti what happened?”

  “I was in a fight,” he mumbled.

  “That’s all he’ll say,” Phil said. “The other boy isn’t saying anything, either.”

  Mikala took the icepack from Luke’s eye. The bruising was already intense.

  “Oh, Luke! Does it hurt?”

  “Not much,” he said with a shrug, then winced as he blinked.

  “Your dad’s going to want you to go to the doctor.”

  “Dad’s not even answering his phone. He doesn’t care.”

  Mikala crouched down before Luke so she was at eye level with him. “You know better than that, don’t you?”

  Luke stared down at his sneakers.

  “Luke.”

  He raised his gaze to hers. “He’s going to be mad I got into trouble again. Maybe you could take me to the doctor. Then we wouldn’t have to tell him.”

  Kids had a great way of ignoring the obvious. “What would you tell your dad about your face and your hand?” She motioned to the scrapes there, too.

  “I could just tell him I fell.”

  “Do you really want to lie to him?”

  “No, but—”

  “Besides that, Mr. Talbott will be notifying him of your suspension.”

  Luke’s face fell even further if that was possible.

  “Let me try to reach your dad again.”

  * * *

  An hour and a half later Mikala followed Dawson and Luke up to their suite at the Purple Pansy. Father and son weren’t talking…yet. Dawson had finally gotten the voice mail message and had called Mikala while she and Luke were on their way to the urgent care center. He’d met them there. Luke had been examined and checked out, but he’d r
emained stonily silent. Apparently Dawson had decided waiting for privacy was the better option than trying to convince Luke to talk. He’d asked her to come upstairs with them since she’d been involved in all this. She didn’t know if it was a good idea or not, but she wanted to help if she could. Both Dawson and Luke had come to mean so much to her. She hated to see them floundering like this.

  Inside the suite, Dawson motioned Luke to the sofa. Luke sat, looking like a shaken-up kid. All Mikala wanted to do was put her arms around him.

  Dawson pushed the ottoman near Luke and sat on it, while Mikala took the chair beside the sofa. Dawson looked directly into Luke’s eyes. “Now, tell me what happened.”

  “I got into a fight.”

  “I know that. Who did you fight with?”

  “She already told you.” He stole a glance at Mikala.

  “I want you to tell me,” Dawson repeated firmly. “Who did you fight with?”

  “Brandon Sennett.”

  “He’s in your class?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you friends?”

  “No. If we were friends, we wouldn’t fight.” That was so obvious to Luke, and he believed it should be evident to his father, too.

  “So who threw the first punch?”

  “You’re going to talk to Mr. Talbott anyway. He’ll tell you.”

  “I told you, I want you to tell me.”

  “I punched him first,” Luke said.

  At that, Dawson paused and Mikala guessed he was figuring out where to go from there. Finally he prompted, “So tell me why.”

  “It wasn’t anything important,” Luke muttered.

  “It was important enough for you to fight about. What did Brandon say?”

  “He said I’m homeless.” When Luke looked at his dad, there was nothing but sadness there, and Mikala’s heart broke for him.

  She glimpsed emotion on Dawson’s face just for a second. Then he hid it. She knew what he was thinking—Luke wasn’t only homeless but motherless, too. His son had traumatic memory loss and all of it made Dawson feel powerless. Obvious frustration that he couldn’t help his son through this difficult time made the nerve in his jaw work.

  She watched as he swallowed before he spoke. “First of all, home doesn’t have to be a physical place, not when you’re with people who care about you. And technically, I guess we are homeless. But we won’t be for long. I have a house to look at tomorrow.”

  “Here? In Miners Bluff?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to go back to Phoenix. I want to go back to Granddad. I didn’t want him to go back there without us!”

  “I know you miss Granddad. But I thought you were beginning to like it here.”

  Luke jumped up from the sofa. “I don’t like it anywhere. I want to be with Granddad. I want everything the way it was before Mom died!” He ran to his room and slammed the door.

  Mikala felt Dawson’s regret, confusion and turmoil.

  “Maybe I should have let you talk to him.” Dawson stood, shaking his head then pacing. “Or maybe I should just move us back to Phoenix.”

  She went to Dawson and gently touched his arm. Their physical awareness of each other was instantaneous. He went still and so did she.

  After a moment he asked, “It’s really hard not to let a child run your world, isn’t it?”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to remember who’s in charge,” she admitted.

  “I know returning to Phoenix isn’t the answer. I just don’t know how to help Luke move forward. I talked to Dad about moving here. I’ve been studying personnel files. I have two foremen I can promote who would be capable. But nothing’s certain yet and that’s a problem for another day. Right now, I just want Luke to know he belongs here, that we can make a life here, make it better than the one we had in Phoenix for the past two years.”

  Mikala was impressed with Dawson’s resolute attitude. She’d always admired that about him. “You’ll figure this out,” she said. “You and Luke will figure it out together.”

  He was wearing a flannel shirt today and jeans, work boots made for touring a construction site. His brown-blond hair fell over his brow and there was desire in his eyes that made heat start pooling in every feminine place.

  His arm curled around her waist and he brought her close. “Your support means a lot to me and to Luke.”

  When he tipped her chin up, she welcomed his kiss. It was deep and thorough and it didn’t last very long. She knew why. Luke was his main priority and had to be. She respected that about him and she knew she wouldn’t feel so deeply about him if he didn’t want the very best for his son.

  Feel deeply? As she gazed into Dawson’s eyes, she knew she couldn’t use that euphemism any longer. She loved Dawson Barrett. That realization made her absolutely dizzy.

  * * *

  The real-estate agent opened the door to the house and led Dawson and Luke inside. Dawson had encouraged Luke to come with him. Maybe what they needed most was to make a decision together.

  The house was empty and their footsteps echoed as Dawson led Luke over the hardwood floors into the bright kitchen, large living room and to the first-floor treasure in the back—a sunroom.

  Dawson had a good feeling about the place. Despite its emptiness, it had warmth. Maybe it was the tall windows that let in lots of sun. Maybe a happy family had lived here before. He didn’t know. This just felt right.

  But Luke was quiet, not communicating, and Dawson could never tell what his son was thinking.

  The real-estate agent remained downstairs as they went upstairs, realizing they could have a discussion much easier without her. She’d already pointed out all the merits.

  The master suite was just right. As they viewed the other two bedrooms, Luke seemed more interested in one of them than the other. A long window seat had lids with hinges. Luke crossed to one and lifted it. “Pretty cool,” he muttered.

  “We could easily toss some cushions on those and you could study the constellations at night.”

  Luke glanced at his dad, then out the window again. “Or crawl out onto the porch roof and do it.”

  Dawson was horrified by that idea and Luke easily read his expression. A sly smile spread over his lips. “Just kidding, Dad.”

  Luke still sported a black eye that was now turning yellow and green as it healed. But the fact that he was smiling a little gave Dawson hope. “So what do you think?”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s got a giant backyard.”

  They’d been able to tell that from the view out the sliding glass doors in the dining area. “You could kick around a soccer ball, play catch…whatever you want. We could probably even cross-country ski back there. It’s not too far from Clay’s place, either.” Was he giving it too much of a hard sell?

  But Luke seemed to mull over everything he said. “Can we put a backboard on the garage?”

  All at once Dawson felt relieved. If Luke could envision that, maybe he could see himself living here.

  “Sure, we can. The driveway’s a little steep but not right in front of the garage. It’s perfect for one-on-one.”

  After another glance at the window seats, Luke went into the hall and peeked into the other bedroom again.

  Dawson stayed put.

  When Luke returned, he said, “This isn’t as big as our other house.”

  “Does that matter?” Dawson really wanted to know what his son thought about that.

  With a shrug Luke said, “Guess not.” He wandered over to the window seat again and lifted the lid. Then he faced his dad. “Can I have this room?”

  “If it’s the one you like.”

  “Can I paint it whatever color I want?”

  “Anything but black,” Dawson said tongue-in-cheek.

  But Luke
’s brows just arched. “Do you like it?”

  If he seemed too enthusiastic about the place, would Luke retreat just to be contrary? Dawson didn’t know. He only knew he had to be honest with his son.

  “I like it. I think we can be happy here.”

  After Luke thought about that, he asked practically, “So when can we move in?”

  * * *

  Mikala glanced at Dawson as he drove toward Moonshadow Mountain early Friday afternoon. He’d called her last night and said, “Luke and I found a house.” He’d sounded as if it had been the greatest achievement of his life.

  “Wonderful!”

  “Luke seems to like it. We signed the papers last night. How would you like to go with me to see it? We could have lunch afterward. Do you have time free tomorrow?”

  Dawson knew she usually took Friday afternoon to catch up and run errands.

  “After one. I guess you’re sure about this one? What’s it like?”

  “How about if I just surprise you?”

  So now she was waiting to be surprised!

  The scenery changed from the town’s cultivated sidewalks, maples and sycamores, to brush and pines. Celeste and Clay lived up this way in the foothills below Moonshadow Mountain. There were single-family dwellings, but also a few rural developments.

  She glanced over at Dawson once or twice and saw the eagerness on his face as he drove toward their destination. It was a sunny day today and snow sloshed under their tires as it melted. When Dawson barreled through a puddle, water sprayed along the side of his SUV. Soon he pulled into a long driveway that led to a two-story home nestling into pine and aspen. It looked as if it was comfortable there. There were holly trees on either side of the house and smaller shrubs under the windows. The slate-blue siding and navy shutters coordinated well with the gray roof. Native gray stone surrounded the door and a copper roof stretched out over the porch.

  “It’s about ten years old,” Dawson said as they mounted the steps and he inserted the key in the lock.

  Moments later they were stepping over the threshold. As soon as they walked into the foyer, Mikala saw the smile on Dawson’s face and knew why. There was warmth to this house with its hardwood floors and lots of wood trim. There was a stairway that led upstairs to a landing. To the left was a dining room, painted in soft green. The family room was to the right and had nubby tan, brown and rust tweed carpeting as well as a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. Plenty of sunlight flowed through the tall front windows.