“Go on,” a man on the board directed.
“We’re getting older and so’s Mick. Having to get up and down each time he needs to relieve himself is wearing on us.” She took her seat and folded her hands into her lap.
People were starving in Ethiopia and being killed in the Middle East, but here in Yorkshire Falls, canine concerns ruled the day. Roman remembered that the itch to leave town had started during his apprenticeship with Chase, and had grown with each meeting he’d attended that had degenerated into petty arguments between neighbors with too much time on their hands.
Back then, Roman’s imagination had traveled a dual path in search of excitement, from foreign locales with more intriguing, fast-paced stories, to Charlotte Bronson, his crush. Now that he’d visited most of the places in his dreams, he had but one focus. His mind returned to Charlotte and the attraction he’d proven was mutual.
He’d intended to corner her, to make her admit to avoiding him tonight and find out why she’d ditched him in high school. He had a hunch, but wanted to hear it from Charlotte. He hadn’t intended to seduce and arouse them both. Not until he’d looked into those eyes and seen the same emotional connection sizzling in the depths.
Nothing had changed. She was glad to see him, no matter how she fought that truth. Then there was the fresh coat of glossy coral color on her full, pouty lips. No red-blooded man could resist. He’d inhaled her scent and nuzzled her soft, fragrant skin. He’d gotten close enough to tease but not satisfy.
Roman groaned, because though her body screamed, Take me—and he’d wanted to—her mind rebelled. And now he knew why. She’d finally given him a reason for rejecting him that he understood. One he’d suspected all along. We’ll have that date, all right. The day you decide to stay in town.
She wanted a home in Yorkshire Falls. She needed stability and security, to live happily ever after in the way everyone knew her parents never had. He’d been too young and rushed to see the truth before, but he understood it now. And that meant she was the last woman he could turn to with his agenda. He couldn’t hurt her, and that meant he needed to take a lesson from Charlotte and steer clear.
“Next.” A gavel banged against the wooden platform on the desk up front.
Roman jumped in his seat, startled. “Dammit, I missed the outcome,” Roman muttered. Because he was preoccupied with her. This time he’d only missed out on the doggy dilemma, but next time he could miss much more. And that was something he couldn’t let happen.
“Is that you, Chandler?”
Roman turned at the sound of his name to see a familiar-looking guy slip into the seat behind him.
“Fred Aames, remember me?” He stuck out his hand.
Chase and Rick hadn’t been kidding. Fred no longer resembled the fat kid everyone had bullied. “Hey, Fred, how are you?” Roman shook his hand.
“Couldn’t be better. How ’bout you? What are you doing back here?”
“I’m back in town for my mom; I’m here now for the Gazette.” Roman glanced forward. No one had introduced anything new for discussion yet.
“I heard about Raina’s hospital trip.” Fred ran a hand through his dark hair. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“You covering for Ty?” He leaned forward and placed an arm behind Roman’s chair, nearly knocking him forward in the process. Fred had lost weight but not upper body strength. He was still one hell of a big guy.
Roman stifled a cough and nodded. “His wife went into labor and he couldn’t be in two places at once.”
“That’s nice of you. Besides, these meetings are as good a place as any to get caught up on what’s going on around here.”
“True enough.” If he paid attention, Roman thought. But he hadn’t a clue if Mick the beagle had been granted his freedom or locked behind closed doors for the duration of his doggy life.
The sound of a gavel hitting the table let them know the meeting had adjourned for a short recess. Roman rose and stretched in an attempt to wake himself up.
Fred stood, joining him. “Hey, you involved with anyone right now?”
Not yet. Roman shook his head, refusing to go that route with anyone but his brothers. “Not at the moment, why?”
Fred stepped closer. “Sally’s been eyeing you. I thought she had a thing for Chase, but now she’s locked in on you.” With a generous wave that made a mockery of his whisper, Fred gestured to where Sally Walker sat in her seat, taking notes for the county record.
Sally half raised her hand in salutation, a blush staining her cheeks.
Roman waved back, then looked away, not wanting to encourage her obvious interest. “She’s not my type.” Because her name wasn’t Charlotte. The thought surfaced unbidden. “Why don’t you go after her yourself?” Roman asked.
“Guess you didn’t hear I’m engaged,” Fred said proudly. “Marianne Diamond’s going to be my wife.”
One of his brothers had mentioned it earlier, Roman recalled now. He grinned, raised a hand to slap Fred on the back, but refrained. He didn’t want the big man to reciprocate the gesture. “Well, good for you. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Listen, I’ve got to talk to one of the councilmen before things heat up again. I’ve got a few jobs on hold pending a permit … well, you don’t need to know details. See you around.”
“Sure thing.” Roman pinched the back of his neck. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him.
“How’d your first day back in the trenches go?”
He turned to see Chase standing beside him. “What’s wrong? Is it Mom?” He hadn’t expected to see Chase again tonight.
“No.” Chase laid a quick, comforting hand on Roman’s shoulder, then withdrew it.
“What, then? You don’t trust me to do my job?” Which wouldn’t be unfair, Roman thought. He still didn’t have an answer to the Carltons’ beagle’s problem.
Chase shook his head. “I just figured you’d be antsy sitting at one of these things and thought I’d relieve you in case it ran long.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I overheard you and Fred. Looks like you’ve got yourself a candidate.”
“From what Fred said, Sally was interested in you first.”
“Trust me, the field is open. I wouldn’t hold it against you for stealing her away from me,” Chase said wryly. “Sally’s too serious for me to even think about. She’s the type to be dreaming about a house and kids after one date.” He shuddered.
“If she likes a loner like you, she’s not gonna be interested in an outgoing guy like me.” Roman grinned, only too happy to rib his brother about his lone wolf qualities. Rick had been right in saying women were drawn to their older brother’s brooding silence.
But Chase stared him down, obviously unwilling to buy in to Roman’s excuses. “Sally’s ready to settle down. Everything she wants right now would make her the perfect candidate for you. So why’d you tell Fred she’s not your type?”
“Because she isn’t.”
“Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but isn’t that what you want? Sally’s interested in you and you don’t return the sentiment. See if she’ll accept your arrangement.”
Roman glanced over his shoulder again and took in Sally Walker, an innocent, blushing type of woman. “I can’t.” He couldn’t marry Sally. Sleep with Sally.
“I suggest you be careful, little brother. If you pick out a lady who actually is your type, you might not be in such a rush to get the hell out.” Chase shrugged. “Just something to think about.”
Leave it to Chase, Roman’s father figure, to point out the obvious. Also leave it to Chase to remind Roman of his priorities. His wife hunt. His brother was right. Roman needed a woman he could leave behind, not one he’d be drawn back to over and over again. Yet another reason Charlotte was all wrong for him. He wished like hell he could get her out of his system once and for all. But damned if he knew how. Touching her, tasting her, only made him want her more, not less.
An hour later, Roman
headed home, Chase’s words in his mind, but Charlotte in his subconscious. In bed later that night, he woke more than once in a heated sweat, Charlotte Bronson the cause.
Ten years, and the flame burned hotter than ever. Which only proved one thing: Temptation or no temptation, Roman couldn’t afford to get involved with Charlotte. Not now. Not ever.
The sun woke Roman early the next morning. Despite a splitting headache, he stretched and climbed out of bed with a renewed sense of determination and purpose. After a quick shower, he headed for the kitchen. Food wouldn’t kill the pain, but at least something to eat would fill his empty stomach. He reached into his mother’s pantry, pulled out a box of Cocoa Puffs, poured a bowl of cereal, added mini-marshmallows, then drowned the mixture with milk.
His stomach growled at the same time he settled in, sitting in the same chair he favored as a kid. Pulling out the latest copy of the Gazette, he looked over the new and improved layout, and a tug of pride lodged in Roman’s throat.
Chase had managed to grow the paper along with the increased population in town.
The sound of someone running down the stairs startled him and he turned to see his mother come to a quick halt as she entered the kitchen.
“Roman!”
“You were expecting someone else?”
She shook her head. “It’s just … I thought you’d left the house already.”
“And you decided to run a marathon while I was gone?”
“Weren’t you supposed to have breakfast with your brothers?”
He narrowed his gaze. “I couldn’t get out of bed this morning, and don’t change the subject. Was that you running down the stairs? Because you’re supposed to be taking it easy, remember?” But hadn’t Rick said she’d sounded winded last night too?
“How could I forget something so important?” She placed a shaking hand to her chest, then walked slowly into the room, coming up beside him. “What about you? Are you feeling okay?”
Other than disoriented from this circular conversation, he was fine. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Because your ears are obviously still clogged from the plane ride if you’re thinking you heard something as ridiculous as me running, of all things. Do you want me to make an appointment with Dr. Fallon for you?” she asked.
He shook his head hard enough to clear his ears had they been blocked and met his mother’s gaze. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“No need.” She slowly lowered herself into the chair beside him, then stared at his cereal bowl, a frown puckering her face. “Well, I see some things haven’t changed. I can’t believe I actually keep that garbage on hand for you. It’s going to—”
“Rot my teeth, I know.” She’d told him often enough as a kid. But she loved him enough to indulge him anyway. “You do realize I haven’t lost one yet?”
“Yet being the operative word. A single man needs all his teeth, Roman. No woman finds it attractive to wake up in the middle of the night and discover you soaking your dentures on the nightstand.”
He rolled his eyes. “Good thing I’m a respectful man and don’t let women spend the night.” Let his mother chew on that, Roman thought wryly.
“Respect has nothing to do with it,” she muttered.
As usual, his mother had a point. Women didn’t stay overnight because he wasn’t currently involved and hadn’t been in a while, and because women who spent the night took it for granted they could spend another one. And another. The next thing a man knew, he was in a relationship—which Roman supposed wouldn’t be a bad thing, if he could find a woman who interested him for more than a couple of weeks. Chase and Rick felt the same way. At this point, Roman figured the Chandler brothers’ hearts were stamped NO TRESPASSING. Any intelligent woman read the fine print before getting involved in any way.
“You’re too smart for your own good, Mom.” As he rose from his seat, he realized Raina was completely dressed for the day. She wore navy blue slacks, a white blouse with a tie, and the pin with three baseball bats, a diamond in each, clipped into the center—a gift from his father after Chase’s birth, and added to with each son she’d delivered. Other than her slight pallor, she looked great. The way his mother always looked, he thought with pride. “Going somewhere?” he asked.
She nodded. “To the hospital to read to the children.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“And before you argue with me like Chase and Rick tried to do, let me tell you something. I’ve been in bed since late Friday when your brothers brought me home. It’s a beautiful morning. Even the doctor said fresh air would do me good as long as I take it easy.”
“Ma—”
“I’m not finished.”
She waved a hand in front of his nose and he lowered himself back into his chair, knowing better than to attempt to get a word in edgewise.
“I always read to the children on Monday and Friday. Jean Parker has chemotherapy treatments on those days and she looks forward to hearing Curious George Goes to the Hospital.”
Bless his mother for caring, he thought. Even ill, she put others first. She’d always had more than enough room in her heart for any kid who’d walked into their home.
As if she’d read his mind, she placed her hand over that heart and rubbed gently. “And besides, there’s nothing like children to make a heart feel decades younger.”
He rolled his eyes. “More rest will do the same thing, so after you read, I expect you home and in bed.” No way would he touch the dig regarding kids. Not when he was about to embark upon a hunt to find a mother for his. “Are you finished with the monologue?” he asked politely.
She nodded.
“I wasn’t going to argue. I just wanted to know if I could make you breakfast. I wouldn’t want you to wear yourself out before you start your volunteer work.”
A smile worked its way onto her face. Considering she was over sixty, her skin still held a glow most women would envy and the lines weren’t as deep as many others’ her age. Fear of losing her suddenly washed over him. He stood again and held out his arms. “I love you, Mom. And don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
She rose and hugged him in return, her arms and her grip strong and sure. This was his mother, the woman who had raised him, and though they touched base only once in a while because of his schedule, he adored her. He couldn’t imagine life without her in it. “I want you around for a long, long time.”
She sniffed. “Me too.”
“Don’t wipe your nose on my shirt.” Female tears made him uncomfortable and he wanted her perky and strong again. “The doctor said you’ll be fine as long as you take care of yourself, right? No stress, no overdoing it?”
She nodded.
“I suppose reading couldn’t hurt. Can I drive you into town?”
“Chase is picking me up.”
“How are you getting home?”
“Eric is dropping me off after lunch.”
“How is Dr. Fallon?” Roman asked.
“Fine. Looking out for me just like you boys.” She stepped backward, dabbed her eyes with a napkin she’d swiped off the table, and though she didn’t meet his gaze, she was his composed mother again.
“How about a bagel and a cup of decaffeinated tea?” Roman asked.
“Don’t spoil me. I’ll be lost when you’re gone.”
He grinned. “Somehow I doubt that. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
Raina laughed. “And don’t you forget it.”
An hour later, Roman slipped out of the house for a walk to town, grateful his mother’s breakfast discussion had included only town gossip and no more baby talk. He knew what he had to do and neither needed nor wanted a reminder.
The job ahead wouldn’t be a simple one. The women of this town were raised to be wives and mothers—working or stay-at-home, it didn’t matter. It was the wife part that made Roman nervous, and had him wondering how the hell he’d find someone willing to accept
his untraditional needs. He needed an untraditional woman who’d accept his absences and wondered if that person could be found in Yorkshire Falls.
There was always the possibility of choosing a more cosmopolitan woman, one who understood Roman’s needs better. He’d have to check his PalmPilot when he got home, but a few women he’d met in his travels and knew more intimately in the past came to mind. There was Cynthia Hartwick, an English heiress, but Roman immediately shook his head. She’d hire nannies to care for her children, and Roman wanted any kid of his to know a loving motherly upbringing.
He’d always liked Yvette Gauthier, a pretty redhead with a bubbly personality and the ability to make a man feel like a god. Then, just as he recalled how that same personality trait had nearly smothered him, he also remembered she’d become a flight attendant, which meant she wouldn’t be around if his kid fell and got hurt or needed help with homework. Raina had always been home for her boys. Though Roman didn’t mind if his wife worked, a long-distance job for both parents was out of the question.
His mother wouldn’t approve of either woman. It made him laugh thinking of Raina’s reaction to the cool Englishwoman or the sultry French tigress. His mother was the crux of this situation—she wanted grandchildren, so the woman would have to live or be willing to settle in Yorkshire Falls.
So much for the women he’d met along the way, Roman thought wryly. He felt somewhat relieved. He couldn’t imagine marrying any of them anyway.
The glare of the sun beat down on his aching head. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for people yet. Not until he’d had some caffeine, but as he approached town, his solitude was interrupted. A high-pitched voice called to him and he turned to see Pearl Robinson, an older woman he’d known forever, rushing toward him dressed in her housecoat and her hair in the same gray bun she’d always favored.
“Roman Chandler! Shame on your mother for not telling me you were in town. Then again, she’s got more on her mind than gossip. How is she feeling? I baked a tray of brownies to bring over this afternoon. Is she up for company?”
Roman laughed at Pearl’s rambling. She was such a sweet woman, harmless if you didn’t mind chatter and nosiness, and after being away for so long, Roman was surprised to find he didn’t mind either.
The Bachelor Page 5
