The Bachelor Boss (O'Rourke Family 3)

by Julianna Morris

  “No, but you’re lucky I’m not planning to sue for every penny this place is worth. Now I suggest you apologize to Miss Dumont for your chauvinistic remark.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Libby assured hastily.

  “Yes it is.”

  The clerk cleared his throat. “I’m quite sorry, miss. I never meant to offend you. And there won’t be any charge for the night, of course. For either of you.”

  Neil grabbed the plastic key and held the door for Libby, who looked torn between wanting to leave, and wanting to soothe the clerk’s ruffled feathers. She finally gave him a kind smile, then ducked through the door.

  “That was very gallant, but I didn’t need you to defend me,” she said as they climbed the stairs.

  “You’re too nice to say anything. Jeez, is that the kind of crap women have to put up with?”

  Libby put her hand over her mouth to hide a grin. She’d never known a man willing to go to war for her over something so trivial as an annoying “little lady” remark.

  “Comparatively, it wasn’t so bad,” she murmured. “The male half of my own family can be far worse than that, though they don’t have a clue what they’re saying most of the time. They think they’re modern, progressive guys, but they really belong in the dark ages when it comes to their attitudes.”

  “So you just grit your teeth and resist unmasking their fantasy self-image,” Neil guessed.

  “Most of the time.”

  They reached their rooms and he handed her the plastic card key. “You’re too nice for your own good. Next time nail ’em for saying something stupid.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay. Wait a minute, let me check your room and make sure it’s all right,” he said, taking the key back again.

  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Neil ignored her, looking into the bathroom and under the bed, and even checking the windows to be certain they were still fastened. But when he paused at the door to inspect the locks he smiled sheepishly.

  “I suppose this makes me as big a hypocrite as the men in your family.”

  Her throat was so tight it was hard to talk. Who could have imagined Neil O’Rourke acting like that…endearing and charming, and so lovable her heart was having a hard time not falling head over heels?

  “I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said when she’d managed to regain her composure. “Deep down a lot of modern women really do want a knight in shining armor, but they also want the knight to respect their abilities and understand they can handle things alone. We don’t like explaining because it’s contradictory and confusing and guys might get the wrong idea. So I’m not sure who’s the hypocrite, or if it’s just part of being human.”

  “Which really means I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t?” he asked with a grin.

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re right, it is confusing.” Neil tossed the key on the bed. “I think I’ll just follow my dad’s code of honor and resign myself to being called a sexist jerk for it.”

  “You aren’t a jerk.”

  “But I’m a sexist?”

  “No.” Libby smiled. “Only I think you’re more like small town people than you want to admit.”

  “Small town, huh?” Neil chuckled. “I’ve been called worse.”

  In Neil O’Rourke’s lexicon being “small town” was probably an insult, but she hadn’t meant it that way. “It’s a compliment. No matter what you believe, the biggest difference between country folks and city dwellers is where they want to live.”

  “I’m not so sure of that, but if everyone in small towns was like you, Libby, I think I could spend the rest of my life in Endicott as a happy man.” He gave her a swift kiss and stepped outside. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Libby touched her tingling lips as she shut the door and leaned against it, breathing so hard her head spun. Keeping her perspective was hard, particularly with Neil confounding her on so many fronts.

  She slid down until she was sitting on the ground and didn’t have so far to fall if she kept hyperventilating.

  Okay, Neil was turning into a nice guy. It could happen to anybody. Nobody was all bad and he’d had the right influences from childhood—great mom, terrific dad, and plenty of brothers and sisters, all raised with good, solid values.

  But there was his commitment problem to consider.

  Nothing he’d said suggested a change in attitude about a wife and kids. His girlfriends never lasted, and he wasn’t exactly the home and hearth sort of guy. He liked eating in fine restaurants, traveling, the theater, nightlife, and high-rise apartments. Seattle was a gorgeous city, but it was still a city and she liked her lakeside home where foxes and deer came to drink at the water’s edge every morning.

  Neil seemed to enjoy kissing her, but that didn’t mean much. Sex for men usually meant something different than it did for women, even her dear, absentminded father admitted that.

  Neil might desire her, but it was only for the moment and wouldn’t last.

  More than anything, Libby wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t give in to the weakness. She was the one the family depended on, the one they relied on when something went wrong. Everyone called her a mother hen, and men like Neil didn’t want mother hens for girlfriends or wives. But that was okay, because she liked taking care of her family and being needed.

  She had to be practical.

  Realistic.

  And somehow get through the next two days of their scouting trip without doing something unbelievably foolish—like falling in love with Neil.

  The next morning Neil woke before dawn and stretched, inordinately pleased with life. There was a slight ache over his right eye from the shower curtain rod, but other than that he felt great.

  Which was really odd because he’d expected to be tense as hell after spending a chaste night without Libby in his bed.

  There was only one way to get her into his bed, and that was to marry her.

  The idea of marriage no longer sent cold chills down his spine, but it was a lot to think about. Most importantly, he had to face the fact he wasn’t ideal husband material for a sweetheart like Libby.

  It was an ego deflating concept, and his mood sobered as he shaved and got dressed. In college when he’d thought he was in love and asked the girl to marry him, she’d turned him down because he wasn’t rich and well-connected. Those things wouldn’t count to Libby.

  In fact, he might not have a single quality she was looking for in a husband, and that possibility did send cold chills down his spine.

  Hell.

  Neil changed from his jeans to a pair of sweats. The motel was located on a long frontage road, and he needed to work off his sudden uneasiness.

  Wasn’t that the limit?

  You spend an entire life figuring on one thing, then start to change your mind and realize you might have screwed up simply because you didn’t change gears fast enough.

  Outside the air was cold and crisp, with the first rime of frost on the ground. He stretched for a couple of minutes, then took off down the dimly lit road.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Libby said over breakfast.

  Well, she called what she was eating breakfast, but Neil preferred something more substantial in the morning than a bowl of fruit and a chocolate-flavored latte.

  “About what?” he said, digging into his steak and fried eggs. One thing he liked about country restaurants was the food they served in the morning. Especially after running several miles on an empty stomach.

  “We shouldn’t…that is, we have to remember we’re professionals with a job to do. Kane doesn’t have a policy against fraternizing amongst employees, but getting involved usually creates more problems than it’s worth.”

  Criminy.

  His juicy steak suddenly tasted like shoe leather.

  “I’m sure you agree,” Libby said. “Not that we’re actually involved, or anything,” she added.

  “No, of co
urse not.”

  She pushed her fork around the fruit in her bowl. “And we both agreed we didn’t want to be involved, right in the beginning. You said yourself that you weren’t interested in starting anything.”

  Personally, Neil thought he’d said some stupid things, and that had to be the stupidest.

  Not want to start something?

  Of course he’d wanted to start something. He was a guy, and Libby was stacked. She had a smile like warm sunshine, and he’d been attracted to her for eleven years. He’d done his best to pretend she didn’t exist since they were so obviously incompatible, but that hadn’t changed his basic, gut-level response on the rare occasions they’d run into each other.

  “Neil?” Libby prompted.

  “Yeah, go on.”

  Confusion clouded her green eyes, but he was trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t get his face slapped, or the door permanently slammed on him before he figured out what he really wanted. For now it was probably safer if she kept talking.

  “There isn’t a lot more to say. I enjoyed last night, but we shouldn’t let it happen again.”

  Oh, this wasn’t good.

  “Nothing happened. Not really.”

  “I suppose that’s true from your point of view,” Libby said tartly and he winced.

  Fine.

  They could back off from one another while they were sorting stuff out. It wasn’t the end of the world and it would give him time to regroup. Except it might be the end of the world, and he just didn’t have the good sense to see it. Still, considering their positions, he couldn’t push without looking like he was taking advantage.

  “Okay.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “Okay, what?”

  “Okay. We’ll do what you want.”

  Libby nodded, feeling miserable all over again. Neil hadn’t put up much of a fight; he’d mostly listened and then agreed. She ought to be happy, thrilled, instead she wanted to kick him. Again.

  Almost as if sensing her thoughts, Neil shifted his legs away from her. “I like this restaurant,” he said, digging into his steak again.

  She pushed her fruit aside, giving up the pretense of eating. Even her latte didn’t taste good, and she happened to know they used SBC—Seattle’s Best Coffee—beans, which was her very favorite coffee company.

  “Do you eat like that every morning?” Libby asked, shuddering at the thought of so much heavy protein hitting her tummy and sitting there all day.

  “Only on special occasions.”

  Swell.

  She wondered if their breakup—after not really being involved in the first place—could be considered a special occasion. Her only consolation was knowing he’d ordered his breakfast before she’d suggested they refrain from a repeat of last night’s kiss. On the other hand, she might have just beaten him to it.

  She pushed her nonfat chocolate latte in the same direction as the fruit.

  Things were bad when you didn’t even want chocolate.

  At the end of their third day on the road Libby had convinced herself that everything was for the best. She and Neil had regained the friendly camaraderie they’d been building, and had discussed the future of their division inside and out. They had four new properties for the bed-and-breakfast line, and were ready to begin contracting for restoration work.

  Really.

  It was all for the best.

  Maybe she could even start to concentrate on Christmas. It was close to the holidays, and though she’d helped decorate the church and her parents’ house, she hadn’t put up even a wreath or silver bell on her own, or shopped for a single gift. She would do it on Saturday, if only to prove to herself that her life could go on despite her inner turmoil.

  Stretching tiredly, Libby glanced into the backseat to see how Bilbo was doing in his cat carrier. Neil had insisted on driving to Endicott to get him, though she’d said she was going up over the weekend.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine.” She smiled wryly. “Bilbo takes things in his stride. Right now he’s sound asleep with his face smooshed up against the carrier door.”

  “I’ve never seen such a big feline.” Neil shook his head. “Are you certain he doesn’t have a little tiger blood in his veins?”

  “Just pure Maine Coon. They can weigh over thirty pounds. Look, you really don’t have to take me to my house,” Libby said abruptly. “I need my car, anyway, to get to work tomorrow.”

  “We’ve been over this. I’ll send the limo out in the morning. It doesn’t make sense for you to drive into Seattle, and back out again. It’d be dark before you got there. Now, where do I turn?”

  Libby gave up. Knowing Neil, he intended to inspect the house to be sure nobody had broken in during her absence—never mind she got home after dark most winter evenings, he was going to ensure her safety. She would have enjoyed the gallantry more if he had personal reasons for being concerned about her, which just went to show she was being irrational.

  “Turn at the gas station,” she muttered.

  He followed her instructions, winding through the hills until they drove through the thick band of evergreen forest that surrounded her property.

  “Whoa, this is nice,” he said.

  “Probably too quiet for you.”

  “You never know.” Neil helped Libby down and lifted the enormous cat carrier from the back seat. “I’ll get your luggage in a minute.”

  “Going to check the house out?”

  “Yeah, but only because I’m a man and can’t help myself.”

  She laughed and handed him the key. He noted the sturdy locks on the door and the placement of good lighting around the property with approval.

  Libby’s home surprised him, though it shouldn’t have. It was a modern, two-story log house. The interior was open and airy, with large windows that revealed a small, but picturesque natural lake beyond the broad deck. She obviously didn’t have a fondness for clutter and knickknacks, preferring instead a scattering of deep, rich blues and greens that complimented the hardwood floors and beamed ceiling.

  It was tranquil, like Libby.

  A celebration of the senses. He would never underestimate her again.

  “Is it all clear?” she called from the doorway.

  “Just a minute.” Still absorbing the peace he felt from every corner, Neil quickly inspected the spacious rooms, though he couldn’t help lingering in her upstairs bedroom.

  Desire hit him like a sledgehammer at the sight of a queen-size bed covered by a rich green comforter and piled with pillows. Coiled rag rugs of blue and green sat jewel-like on the oak floor, seeming an extension of the world of water and evergreen outside, revealed by a bank of south-facing windows.

  If that wasn’t enough, the bathroom was a sensual delight, with a whirlpool tub that sat in a corner of glass fire brick walls, masses of leafy plants, and an overhead skylight.

  He wanted Libby.

  He wanted her in that bed, for hours and hours.

  After that they’d check out the tub for a while. It would be like making love in a jungle. Then they’d go back to bed.

  “Neil?”

  “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  He put his hand on the doorframe and practiced his deep breathing. Libby was the one who’d put up the Don’t Touch signs, so he was obligated to respect her wishes. But it was driving him crazy.

  By the time he got downstairs Libby had obviously gotten tired of waiting for him. Bilbo was stretched out on the couch and she was carrying her suitcase in from the Blazer.

  “Hey, I said I’d get that,” Neil said, grabbing it away. “You want this in your bedroom?”

  “Yes, thank you. It’s at the top—”

  “Of the stairs. I know.”

  Libby sighed as she stroked Bilbo’s broad head and heard his purr rumble loudly in the stillness. It was better being friendly with Neil, instead of romantic.

  Really.

  And if she kept telling herself that, she
might actually start to believe it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re a mess.”

  Neil scowled up at his brother from the chaise lounge in his mother’s backyard. “Thanks, Kane, I didn’t know that.” He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, which was quite a feat since it was forty degrees outside and he was only wearing a light jacket.

  At least it wasn’t raining.

  “Mom wants to know if you’re spending the afternoon out here, or plan to eat dinner with the rest of us,” Kane murmured.

  “Give me a break, I haven’t been sleeping lately.”

  “Dare I ask why?”

  “Why the hell not? Everyone else has been asking.”

  “So?”

  “So I can’t sleep, that’s all.” Neil closed his eyes again, but all he could see was Libby’s face, which was exactly why he couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t thought about her that much—only every five minutes or so, and he wasn’t any closer to making a decision.

  Maybe because he was afraid it was too late for a decision.

  Kane prodded his foot. “Talk to me. I’m sure there’s a solution.”

  “That’s because you don’t know the problem.” Neil lifted one eyelid. “Even if it’s all your fault.”

  His brother sat on a nearby lawn chair and smiled quizzically. “How do you figure that?”

  “You made Libby Dumont my vice president.”

  “So?”

  “So she’s like this forbidden candy that you can’t stop thinking about. Then you get a little taste, and that isn’t nearly enough, so you want more, only you’re not sure how much. And then the candy says take a hike, and you have to respect that because it turns out you’ve got a code of honor, even if you haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

  Kane whistled. “Libby told you to take a hike?”

  “Not exactly, but if I’d had any sense I would have changed the subject instead of chowing down on steak and eggs.”

  “Why didn’t you change the subject?”

  “I thought I’d get into more trouble by talking.”

  “This is interesting. You want to have an affair with Libby Dumont.”

  “I didn’t say an affair,” Neil snapped, annoyed. Jeez, didn’t Kane know Libby any better than that? She’d been his executive assistant for years before promoting her. “You aren’t listening.”