by Jane Porter
He took the phone and looked through the pictures more slowly, studying each of her designs. “Where do you sell them?”
“Through my website, The Montana Rose, and I also have a couple local stores that have started carrying pieces. They want my pillows but those are easy to pack and ship myself, so right now they’re only available through my site.”
“You don’t want your own retail space?”
“Maybe one day, but I can’t afford the overhead, and frankly, I don’t want to be tied down with regular hours and staffing. I like the freedom of working out of my garage, and with the baby—” She broke off, smiled tightly. “It’s good to be independent, you know?”
“I do, and you’re talented.”
“Thank you.” Sadie took her phone back and turned it off, slipping it back in her purse. “I like being creative, and I love being my own boss.”
“How did you get it into it?”
“I’ve refinished furniture for years. I started back in high school.” She looked at him a moment, just taking him in, still amazed that they were sitting here together, talking about life and jobs as if they were a couple on a first date. But this wasn’t a date, and she had to be careful not to let her imagination run away with her. Much less her ridiculous idealistic heart. “What about you?” she asked. “What do you do when you’re not on tour?”
“Stop by my ranch, make sure it’s still there, and then check on my real estate, take care of any repairs that are necessary.”
“Doesn’t sound like you spend much time at your ranch.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“There is nothing wrong with it. But there’s nothing”—he shrugged—“right with it, either.”
“Why did you buy it?”
“I thought it’d be a good investment, but as it turns out, it was just okay. I’ve been more successful with rental properties. They’re solid. Tangible. I like putting my money into something I can touch.”
“Do you have a license?”
“No. And unless I’m buying at auction, I use a broker. I don’t like all the paperwork. Happy to give a commission to someone willing to handle that for me.”
“Is it rude to ask what you’ve bought?”
“A couple apartment complexes in Bozeman, another two in Missoula, I have one in Billings, and then some rental houses as well.” He leaned back as the busboy brought them two glasses of water. “It’s actually what brought me to Marietta this weekend. An older apartment complex over by the Catholic church was being auctioned this morning—”
“The one on Fourth Street between Chance and Farrell?”
“You know it then?”
“Natalie’s dad used to own it. He struggled to keep it leased, and so he sold it to someone else and then it ended up in foreclosure. It’s been abandoned for some years now.”
“Three,” he answered, “and I think it has potential so I came for the auction—”
“I hope you didn’t buy it—”
“I did.”
“No.”
“I was the only one who showed up to bid.”
“Because everyone else knows better,” she muttered.
“Or maybe everyone else was too afraid to invest in the community.”
“It’s not easy trying to sell that part of Marietta. It’s considered undesirable.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“You say that because you weren’t raised over there. I was, and I know it’s a hard sell. One of the reasons I moved into my mom’s house after she died was because I couldn’t get a fair price for it. Natalie tried to sell it for me, and she got lowball offers, and so rather than take a pathetic offer, I let my apartment in Bozeman go and moved back home. As it turns out, it’s been a good decision because her house was paid off, and I don’t have a mortgage and am saving quite a bit of money, but you... I don’t envy you trying to turn that complex into something appealing. There’s a lot of crime over there.”
“Like what? Kids on skateboards carrying spray paint cans?”
“Graffiti is a problem.”
“Thank you for the heads-up.”
She knew he was laughing at her and she sniffed. “I hope you got a good deal.”
“I did. It was a great deal.”
The waitress arrived to take their order. Sadie waited for her to leave to ask, “How did you get started in real estate?”
“A former girlfriend convinced me it was better to invest in real estate instead of letting my money just sit in the bank.”
“Sounds like she was a serious girlfriend.”
“We were together a number of years.”
“What happened to her?”
“What always happens, the relationship ran its course, and we parted ways.”
“Just like that?”
“Darlin’, every woman I dated knew upfront I didn’t do forever.”
“So you never loved any of them?”
“I cared for them, and I loved making love to them—”
“Not the same thing!”
He smiled at her, a smile so slow and hot and sexy that it seemed to suck every bit of oxygen from the room. “You’ve never made love to me.”
Sadie struggled to catch her breath. He was big and imposing from afar, but close like this, he was positively lethal. “Nor will I. I’m not looking for sex.”
He grinned at her, white teeth flashing, creases fanning from the corner of his eyes. “Are you quite possibly a thirty-year-old virgin?”
Sadie considering tossing her ice water at him to knock that smug smile off his gorgeous face. “No.”
“It’s okay if you—”
“I’m not. I’ve had serious boyfriends, and a fairly long-term relationship with a pilot that my mom hoped would turn into the ‘one,’ but it didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Turns out he was seeing a couple different flight attendants at the same time.”
“That must have been devastating.”
“If I’d loved him. But I didn’t.” She grimaced. “My mom took it hard, though. She thought he was Mr. Wonderful.”
“Was he that wonderful?”
“He’d bring her flowers when we had dinner with her. She loved that.”
“What kind of flowers would he give you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was too busy giving them to his other girlfriends.”
“At least you can joke about his other girls.” Rory leaned back against the booth. “Have you ever been in love?”
She took a quick drink of her water. “Just once.”
“What happened?”
Her shoulders shifted. “Nothing. I never told him.”
“Sounds like you need to take more risks.”
“While you, Rory Douglas, need to take less.”
Chapter Five
Rory had avoided relationships ever since he and Krissy broke up a couple years ago, but even with her, he’d made it clear he wouldn’t ever get married, or start a family. Commitment wasn’t for him, or so he thought until he sat listening to Sadie talk about getting pregnant and having a baby on her own.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like anything about it. And he would have never called himself old-fashioned or judgmental, but thinking of Sadie trying to raise a child on her own got his back up. He wanted more for her. He wanted more for the baby, too. Life was challenging, and children deserved as much security and stability as possible, which was why having two, loving parents was far more ideal than just one.
“So what is your pregnancy plan?” he asked. “Have you started any medicine? Is it going to be an IVF procedure?”
“The doctor doesn’t think we need to try IVF right off the bat. He has me on Clomid, and I’m tracking my temperature, and I also have an ovulation kit, too. When it’s time, I’ll go in and he’ll transfer the donor sperm and,
fingers crossed it’ll work.” She gave him a bright smile. “It might take a couple tries. I’m prepared to give it six months, and if that doesn’t work, then we go to IVF. That’s why I’m trying to save everything I can. Just in case IVF is necessary.”
“What about the men you’re dating? Anyone special?”
“It’s good... but you know, still in the early stages.”
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“There’s no problem. Paul’s a decent guy. He really is.”
“You don’t sound very excited about him.”
“We’re still getting to know each other.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging, sweetheart.”
“He’s a solid, stable man. He’s a Marietta city planner. His office is at the courthouse.”
“I don’t care about his resume. I want to know how he makes you feel. Does he light you up? Is it hard to keep your hands off him?”
Her lips compressed primly. “I’m not fifteen, Rory.”
No, she wasn’t fifteen. She was a gorgeous, smart, passionate woman in her thirties and she deserved a man who’d make her feel beautiful and valuable and cherished. “So there are no sparks and no chemistry?”
“There could be. If I give him a chance.”
“Chemistry doesn’t work like that.”
“I’ve heard it can develop over time.”
“How many dates have you had so far?”
“Four.”
He made a low, rough sound. “I don’t get it. You want to park me in the friend zone—and we have chemistry off the charts—while you keep dating him, hoping something will develop? Why?”
“Because he’s here, and you’re not.”
“I’m here now.”
“Yes, but for how long? You avoid Marietta like the plague.”
He ground his teeth together, unable to argue that.
Sadie continued on, expression defiant. “After Mom died, I made a vow that I’d give other men a chance, and that’s what I’m doing.”
Rory refused to even let himself imagine her on a date with Paul, or anyone else. She was his, plain and simple, and while this wasn’t the time to follow that thought all the way through to its conclusion, he knew he’d have to examine it later. But for now, he was fighting for her, and fighting to claim her. “Has family always been important to you, or is this something that’s become more urgent since your mom died?”
“I always planned on getting married and having kids, lots of kids. It’s actually something of a shock to realize here I am, thirty-five and still single. I don’t mind the single part as much as I mind not being a mom. That’s so important to me.”
Rory could picture her pregnant, glowing. She’d be so bright and beautiful. He swallowed hard to chase the vision away. “Your mom didn’t put pressure on you to settle down?”
“Never. She only ever wanted me happy. And, yes, she wanted grandkids, and I wanted to make her a grandmother. I thought there would be time.” Her voice quavered, and she drew a quick tremulous breath. “She was a wonderful mom. She would have been a doting grandmother.”
“Any brothers or sisters?”
“No, just the two of us. My father died when I was a baby—he was a trucker—killed during a winter storm in Wyoming during one of those infamous whiteouts. I don’t remember him, so I’ve never really missed him, but I know Mom did.”
“She never remarried?”
“She never even dated again. Said she loved Dad too much.” Sadie paused, remembering. “Growing up, we had our moments, but by the time I graduated from high school, she really was my best friend.”
“No wonder you’re missing her so much.”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her fingers in the moisture beading her water glass. “There were certain things we always did together. Holidays like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, as well as things like tonight’s Marietta Stroll. We went every year together. It was our annual tradition.”
“Is that why you’re not going tonight?”
“No. I need to work. I really am behind.”
“Are you behind, or are you just pushing yourself too hard?”
“I need to make money while I can.”
“You need to honor her memory.”
Suddenly her eyes shimmered with tears. She dashed them away before they could fall. “I’m afraid if I go, it will just make me sad.”
That soft, tearful confession felt like a vise around his heart. He didn’t know how she did it, but it felt as if she’d climbed into his chest and taken up residence there. “What if I took you?”
Her head dipped, hiding her face. “You don’t want to do that.”
“You should know by now that I’m not easily manipulated, or guilted into doing things just because someone thinks I should. I do what I want, because it’s what I want, and I want to take you tonight. I think it’s important you celebrate your mom’s memory.” His voice dropped, deepening. “When I lost my mom, I didn’t do enough to celebrate her. It was a mistake. Don’t be like me.”
Sadie didn’t immediately speak, and Rory immediately kicked himself for saying what he had. It was a struggle for him to share and be open. His previous relationships had ended because he couldn’t, wouldn’t open up, and they were right, he hadn’t been willing to share many thoughts, never mind feelings. But the past had held him back far too long. If he wanted more out of life, if he wanted the chance he’d prayed for that night in Clovis, California, then he had to try to give more and trust more, even if it felt foreign as hell.
“Well, that would be wonderful,” she answered, giving him a watery smile. “I was just worried the cold would hurt your hip.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m tougher than I look,” he answered dryly.
Her head jerked up, brown eyes wide with surprise and then she realized he was teasing, and she laughed even as she cried.
She was a walking disaster, he thought, torn between tenderness and exasperation, but at least she was his disaster.
Rory leaned across the corner of the table and kissed her. Her lips quivered beneath his, soft and salty from tears, and yet her warm mouth tasted impossibly sweet. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of kissing her, which was a good thing since he didn’t intend to let her go.
Sadie didn’t want the kiss to ever end. She felt so good and warm, deliciously warm, and when he lifted his head, ending the kiss, her cheeks burned, and her lips tingled, and she felt exquisitely sensitive all over.
“You have to stop doing that,” she whispered, realizing she had no idea how to manage him, and her feelings were most definitely not under control. “People will get ideas.” I will get ideas.
“Let them. You’re beautiful, and I’m enjoying being with you.”
Heat flooded her, but also anxiety. The compliment was lovely. He was lovely. But wasn’t that the problem? Rory made her want the sun and the moon and all the stars, but how was that realistic? If once she started hoping and dreaming again, how would she ever settle for a quiet, normal life without him?
“You don’t do forever, remember?” she said huskily, stressed, parched. Her hand shook as she reached for her water glass. She took a long, rather desperate drink to cool off, as well as pull herself together. By the time she set the glass back down she felt calmer and more in control. “Rory, you’ve no interest in settling down. You don’t like feelings. I love feelings. You don’t want to settle down and I’m planning on becoming a mom. Our goals and plans don’t align—” She broke off when the waitress arrived with their lunch.
Sadie was grateful for the interruption. She exhaled and leaned back against the seat while Rory gave her a look that made her think they weren’t done with this conversation.
That expression of his made her nervous. But then, he was making her nervous. Rory brought out the most emotional, impractical, irrational side of her, and Sadie was exhausted from being emotional, impractical and irrational. It was time she grew into the person she
was meant to be, the woman her mother raised her to be, which was strong, self-sufficient, and independent. Not teary and fragile and emotionally dependent.
She’d vowed to make permanent life changes, changes that meant she’d use her brain, not her heart, and she’d made good progress by coming back, moving into her childhood home, and working at a local business instead of jetting all over the country. But Rory threatened everything, the stability and peace of mind, she’d worked so hard to achieve.
Rory finished his sandwich before she’d gotten through half of hers. The moment he was done, he pushed his plate back and focused on her. “Are you and this Paul guy in an exclusive relationship?”
Sadie nearly choked on her bite of turkey sandwich, the bread and meat suddenly way too dry to swallow easily. “No,” she said when she could speak.
“Is he seeing anyone else?”
“I don’t know. I don’t mind if he is, though.”
“So you’re not into this guy at all.”
“You can’t say that.”
“I can. And if you’re going to date him, there’s no reason you can’t also date me.”
She put down her sandwich, no longer hungry. “We talked about this.”
“I heard what you said. You’re determined to go out with decent, boring men to feel like you’re keeping a promise you made to your mom—”
“This has nothing to do with my mom. This is about me, and managing my feelings, and I won’t be able to do that if I get close to you. Kissing you makes me breathless—”
“Good.”
“Not good. Because it makes me want more than kissing. It makes me want everything.”
“Even better.”
“No! It’s not. Don’t you see? If I keep kissing you, how will I ever go to Grey’s tomorrow night with Paul and watch football and eat wings and pretend I’m having a great time? How will I laugh at his jokes and be appropriately sympathetic when he tells me stories about working for the city and how his boss smells of onions, but it could also be body odor, he doesn’t know, and he’s not sure if he should say something to his boss, or buy him a stick of deodorant—” She broke off, temper blazing. “Because that’s what dates with Paul are like. He’s a caring man who takes his job seriously, and is worried about his supervisor’s hygiene, and doesn’t want to offend him but help him make better decisions.”
