The Taming of the Bachelor

by Jane Porter

  “From a man’s perspective, all conversation is uncomfortable and usually unnecessary, but you women have taught us it’s considered the first step of foreplay,” he answered, taking her hand, catching her wrist, his fingers wrapping around the slender bones. He gently but firmly tugged her from her seat, propelling her towards him so that he could draw her between his knees. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

  “I am.” She gazed down into his face, fascinated by the way his brow knit, and his jaw tightened as he studied her. He was so good-looking, so rugged and male, and she was so drawn to him, so attracted and ready to put all the questions and curiosity to rest. Would making love with Dillon be worth all the sleepless nights? All the impossible fantasies and relentless craving? “And you? Are you enjoying this?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I think you know I like you more than I’ve liked any woman in a very long time.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” She loved looking into his eyes, loved the focus in his eyes, and the hint of fire. He was so aware of the world, and his alertness made her long to be the focus of his attention. She wanted the night he’d denied her. She wanted the heat, wanted the sparks, wanted that consuming desire. “So is there any woman who will be upset to discover I am here?”

  “No. There is only you.”

  Her heart turned over. She smiled faintly, and lightly clasped his face, feeling the rough bristle of his beard. “You make that sound like a problem, though.”

  “It is a problem since we live 1,700 miles apart.”

  She dipped her head, lightly kissing him. “We live in an era of planes, trains and automobiles. It’s not as if we can’t figure out a way to see each other.”

  “I don’t want to do long distance.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t always have to be long distance.”

  “I’m not returning to Montana, and that’s where you and the kids and Lewis’ parents live.”

  She pressed another light kiss to his lips, stopping him from saying more. “Stop being so practical,” she whispered against his mouth. “You’re ruining the mood.”

  She felt his smile and he drew her down onto his lap, his arms circling her waist, holding her close. “And for your information, I did miss you. A great deal, actually.”

  His voice was so deep and husky it sent shivers up and down her spine. “I hated when Tyler called you and talked to you, and I couldn’t.”

  “You could have. You just didn’t.”

  “You made it clear when you left that there wouldn’t be a relationship.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  “Yes.” She looked into his eyes. Dillon had a body—a big gorgeous male body—and his body was appealing, but there was nothing sexier than his brain. He was smart. Intense. And oh so very hot. “Here I am. So what are you going to do with me?”

  Chapter 15

  Paige couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t relax, not with her thoughts racing. Her mind shouldn’t be racing. The sex had been incredible. Dillon was incredible. And yet now that he was asleep, she couldn’t stop thinking.

  What would happen now?

  They’d made love and she’d come apart in his arms, and then he’d kissed her after, telling her how beautiful she was, but there had been no mention of love. No mention of anything. No mention of a future or what would happen once she returned to Marietta Sunday morning.

  On one hand she knew it was too early. She’d only just gotten here. They’d only made love for the first time ever tonight. But now that they had, she was panicking.

  Had it just been sex, or was it more?

  She prayed it was more.

  She prayed they were more than just a weekend hookup. And yet, isn’t that what she told Dillon she wanted? A weekend with him? No strings attached?

  She shouldn’t have told him that. Or herself. She wasn’t someone who did sex-no-strings-attached well. Actually, she’d never had sex-no-strings-attached ever.

  Shivering, Paige left bed and reached for her nightgown and pulled it over her head, and then grabbed Dillon’s shirt and drew it on, over her short nightgown before slipping from the bedroom and heading down to his kitchen to see if he had any herbal tea. Years ago, after Lewis first died, she’d sit up all night, night after night, staring out the window at nothing, with a cup of tea at her elbow. She rarely drank the tea, but making the tea, and having that cup next to her, was a ritual. It provided comfort, and gave her something to do, something to touch, something to hold when she was numb and grieving and unable to imagine a future.

  Going through Dillon’s cupboards, she found they were all bare. Not a box or bag of tea anywhere. It was hard not to contrast Dillon’s world with her own.

  His steel and glass corporate office. Her simple brick diner.

  His sophisticated, modern light-filled home. Her tall, narrow Victorian.

  His massive refrigerator, empty except for a bottle of vodka in the freezer. Her refrigerator, fully stocked, with the banged-up doors covered by kid’s art and photos and report cards.

  They had nothing in common. There was no reason for them to be together. Nothing that would keep them together. Except love.

  But that was the catch. He’d never once mentioned love. He cared for her. He wanted what was best for her. He’d also repeatedly insisted, he wasn’t the one for her.

  Her eyes stung.

  She was going to get her heart broken, wasn’t she?

  Dillon was awake when Paige slipped from the bed, and put on her nightgown, and then tugged his shirt on over her nightgown. He watched her quietly open the bedroom door and step out, and listened as she quietly closed the door behind her.

  He rolled onto his back once he was alone, putting an arm behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

  It shouldn’t have happened.

  Sex with Paige—shouldn’t have happened. He shouldn’t have kissed her at that damn diner, or kissed her goodbye before he left Marietta. And he definitely shouldn’t have spent hours making love to her tonight.

  He never lost control, at least not sexually. Even when he drank too much, he was careful about who he hooked up with, and when, and where, and how.

  He was all about control.

  But with Paige, his control was non-existent. She had crept under his skin and worked her way into his heart and to be honest, he liked her there. She belonged there. She belonged with him.

  Except his life was in Texas and hers was in Montana and he couldn’t see moving her and the kids to him, and he couldn’t move Tutro there.

  He wasn’t even sure he could handle being a father. His dad hadn’t been a great dad. Why did Dillon think he could do better?

  And yet, she’d felt so good tonight. Making love to her was even better than he’d imagined. She kissed like a woman, and burned in his arms. Hot. So hot. He’d loved how she melted for him and was turned on by the way she responded. She was sweet and real and good.

  So good.

  And despite everything he’d done to protect her, he could already see the writing on the wall. He was going to break her heart and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Paige eventually went back to bed and when she woke up, it was morning, the sun pouring through the expansive glass windows in long rays of golden light.

  Dillon was gone and reaching over she touched where he’d slept, his side no longer warm. He must have gotten up quite some time ago.

  Paige showered and dressed and headed downstairs. Dillon was dressed in faded Levi jeans and a blue checked shirt and he looked boyishly handsome.

  “I don’t even have coffee,” he confessed. “How about we go out, get breakfast, and then explore a little bit of Hill Country?”

  She nodded, smiled, grateful he had a plan. “That sounds wonderful. I’ve never been to Texas. I’d love to go for a drive.”

  “We could head down to Fredericksburg. It’s ninety minutes from here, depending on traffic. We could do some wine tasting and I know girls always like t
he cute little shops.”

  Dillon proved to be a perfect host throughout the day, attentive to every detail from choosing the perfect place to eat, to finding the right scenic drive, to sharing interesting trivia about where they were going or what they were seeing.

  For someone born and raised elsewhere, he certainly knew a lot about Texas, and he obviously loved Central Texas.

  It was late in the afternoon when they started back for Austin. It had been a really nice day, too, with very little of the awkwardness she’d felt this morning when waking. But that was Dillon, she thought. He’d worked hard today to be charming and fun, and he’d succeeded. He’d been great company. The best company. She was going to miss him when she went home.

  “Texas agrees with you,” she said, glancing at Dillon behind the wheel. She was mellow from the wine and their late lunch, and perfectly content to sit back and let Dillon get them home. He looked so rugged and vital in the setting sun light, too, the dark golden light illuminating his profile, emphasizing the strong lines of his nose, cheekbones and jaw.

  “I’m happy here,” he said.

  She hadn’t known what to expect when she flew down to Texas yesterday, but he’d shown her something of his world, and it was a good world. Austin might be a city but it was close to country and Dillon was a man who needed both—energy and technology, coupled with wide-open spaces.

  She reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear, and yet it was impossible to control it with the convertible top down.

  “Did Lewis find it easy being a dad?” Dillon asked, voice pitched low.

  Dillon’s question caught her unawares and she shifted in her seat, puzzling over the question even as she tried to remember how Lewis had been as a father.

  “I don’t know that he found it easy or hard,” she answered after a moment, tugging more hair behind her ear, the setting sun now in their eyes, as well as gilding the surrounding hills copper and gold. “At least, he never said anything one way or another.”

  “Do you think he enjoyed it?” Dillon persisted.

  “I don’t know.” Her frown deepened as she thought back over the years they had been together. “He was a good man. I can’t say anything bad about him, but marriage isn’t always easy, and being a parent can be incredibly frustrating...and exhausting...and I think in all honesty, Lewis didn’t always enjoy the day-to-day parenting. He loved the kids—don’t get me wrong—but lots of parenting is just showing up. Being there, physically. Emotionally. And that was the part Lewis found difficult. He wanted the fun stuff. The love and the hugs and the special occasions but the drudgery of being a parent sometimes got to him.”

  “What about you?” Dillon asked after a moment. “Does the drudgery part get to you?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, thinking about life, her life, and the children. “I’m lucky I’m thirty-eight, heading towards forty. I know things now I didn’t know when I first married. I know more about life. I’m a realist now. Practical.”

  She glanced at him, and discovered Dillon looking at her. “You don’t get the kids and the love without the drudgery,” she said, smiling faintly. “You don’t get the kids and the love without real life. Real life is work. Real life is complex. Real life is challenging. But I also know, I won’t have the kids forever. They’re going to grow up, and move out, and so I’m grateful I get to do their laundry, and make their dinners, and help with homework, because one day I won’t do any of those things. They won’t be there for me to help, or love, or spoil. So I count my blessings, and every day, at the end of the day, I know I’m lucky. I’m loved, and I have people I love. What more can I ask for?”

  Dillon reached over and took her hand, kissing it. “I like you, Paige Joffe.”

  She swallowed hard. “I like you, too, Dillon Sheenan.”

  Returning to Austin, they stopped at one of Dillon’s favorite restaurants, a little Thai place, and ordered dinner to go. Once home they both showered and put on pajamas—well, Dillon wore sweatpants and a t-shirt but called them pajamas—and then they ate on his minimalist sofa and watched a movie on his big flat screen TV.

  “Have you checked in for your flight yet?” Dillon asked at one point during the movie.

  She shook her head. “No. I need to do it still. I was trying to do it on my phone but wasn’t having much luck.”

  “Let me see your phone.”

  He paused the movie while she went to retrieve her phone which she was charging in the kitchen. She opened her email and found the check in now notification from the airline and then showed Dillon. He had no difficulty getting her checked in, and showed her how to take a picture of her mobile boarding pass to use tomorrow when in the airport security screening line.

  She thanked him for his help and he drew her against him, kissing her, once, and again, and then again, with more heat and passion each time.

  She broke off the third kiss, carefully pulling away. “I don’t think I can,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can make love to you tonight and then leave you tomorrow.”

  She searched his eyes, thinking now was the time he could say something that would make everything all right, that would reassure her everything was okay.

  But he didn’t.

  And his silence just fed the dread in her stomach, allowing it to grow bigger, heavier, until it pressed against her lungs making it difficult to breathe.

  She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip, her mouth now painfully dry. “Because it’s ending, isn’t it? This, between you and me.”

  He stroked her cheek and then pushed hair back from her face. “Don’t you want more for yourself?”

  He answered her question with a question. The ultimate cop-out.

  So this was how it was going to end.

  Paige exhaled slowly, and drew further back, trying not to let herself feel too much, trying not to let herself hurt. She’d known she was putting it all out there when she made the decision to come see him. She knew she was taking a huge risk.

  But nothing ventured, nothing gained, she’d told herself, repeating the mantra on the flight.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and he was worth the risk.

  Now she didn’t know what to say.

  So Dillon talked. And Paige sat back on the sofa, knees drawn to her chest as he explained that while he enjoyed her, and cared about her very much, he was just thirty and in a different place from her. For him at thirty, life was about options and possibilities, conquests and freedom. He simply wasn’t ready for monogamy and forever.

  Dillon sat forward on the couch, saying to Paige what he needed to say, giving her an explanation that would set her free. He needed to clarify where he was in life, and who he was as a man, so that she’d have no illusions, and harbor no more secret hopes, and romantic dreams. He had to cut her loose, once and for all, so that she could move forward and find someone better suited in Marietta.

  But he watched her face as he talked, seeing how his careful words became weapons. He’d tried to deliver his painful message in a wry light tone of voice, apologetic, but sincere, and so he pretended he didn’t see her reach up to wipe away a tear. He pretended he was oblivious to the way her lower lip trembled.

  He hated hurting her. He also hated lying to her, and he was lying to her. He’d never lied to her before, but he didn’t know what else to do, or how else to get her to let go.

  She had to let go of him. She had to forget him. He wasn’t going to be the answer. He wasn’t one of those men that had been raised in loving, nurturing families. His dad had barely talked to Dillon when he was a kid, and certainly hadn’t attended a single thing he’d ever done, whether a basketball game or a school carwash. Dillon’s older brothers had tried to be there in their own way, but brothers weren’t fathers and as fathers went, Bill Sheenan had been a disappointment.

  Dillon refused to be the same kind of dad, and the only way he could ensure that he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps was by not being a dad.
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br />   It might sound drastic to some, but to Dillon, it was rational. Logical.

  So he was sending her home without illusions. It was a painful and brutal goodbye, but ultimately he was doing her a favor.

  Paige, who rarely truly cried, sobbed her eyes out on the fight back to Bozeman. She cried as she walked from the Bozeman airport to her car in the parking lot for the thirty-minute drive back to Marietta.

  By the time she reached Marietta, she was all cried out. There were no more tears left, and that was a good thing, because this was her fault.

  She was stupid. And stubborn. And she should have read the writing on the wall before she’d made the trip to Austin.

  It’s not as if he’d encouraged her. It’s not as if he had stayed in touch with her. No, there had been nothing—nothing—since that night he left in February and a smart woman would have taken the hint and moved on. A smart woman would realize she wasn’t wanted. So no, Paige wasn’t the brightest, and maybe that’s because she was always so optimistic but this time her optimism had let her down.

  She’d made a fool of herself but at least finally she understood. She knew.

  Dillon Sheenan was not the wrong man for her.

  Nor would he ever be the right man.

  They were finished. Done. Kaput.

  Chapter 16

  Paige woke up early on Friday, May 15th, aware of the significance of the day. It was Science Fair day, and tonight would be the Open House where all the entries would be judged and the kids, and public, would discover the results.

  Tyler was so excited about the science fair at breakfast that he couldn’t eat more than a bite or two of his waffle. She sent him to school with a tasty lunch that would hopefully be easy to eat, but when he returned home that afternoon, she discovered he hadn’t touched his lunch, either.

  “Honey, you have to eat something before we go tonight,” she said, sitting him down at the table with graham crackers, sliced apples and peanut butter. “Otherwise you’ll faint or something else you don’t want to do.”