From Doctor...to Daddy (10 page)

Her hands wandered from his neck and played over the shoulders of his denim shirt. The material was thick so she inched her fingers under the collar, found the band of his T-shirt and traced her fingertips along the neck. His skin was as hot as the heat burning inside her belly.

Dillon must have been feeling the same need, because his hands passed down her back, stopped at the hem of her soft pink sweater, then slid underneath until his palms lay along her midriff.

“Are you okay with this?” he whispered into her ear.

“I'm more than okay,” she said breathlessly.

Leaning back a bit, she moved her hands from his shoulders…down the placket of his shirt. She pulled his T-shirt from his jeans and slid her hands underneath and felt Dillon's stomach muscles tighten at her touch. She couldn't ever remember being quite this bold.

With Scott, sex had been serious business, and their dates usually ended in his bed. But Dillon didn't seem to be in any hurry, and neither was she. Once a couple had sex, everything could change…not necessarily for the better, in her experience. She wasn't ready for any change. Feeling desire for Dillon didn't have to lead to a burning crash—not if they went slow and easy. Not if she made sure she knew exactly what she was doing. They could play, couldn't they? Have fun and take some pleasure, and forget for a few minutes the burdens outside their doors?

“Oh, Dillon,” she said, sifting her fingers into his chest hair, reveling in it. “You're bringing something so different into my life, I'm not sure what to do with it.”

Reaching up under the front of her sweater, he covered her breast with his palm, taking their intimate play
to a new level. “This scares me, Dillon,” she managed to say, hardy able to breathe.

“What—my touching you?” he said, kissing her again.

“Not your touching me. The way I feel when you do.”

Slowly he dropped his hand from beneath her sweater and she was sorry she'd said anything.

But he didn't look sorry. He just looked patient. “I don't want to scare you. And we do have to go back to the house or Allaire will send out a search party. She's very protective of her guests,” he teased.

Erika laughed, lightness flowing through her genuine laugh that she felt had been dormant inside of her ever since Scott left.

Dillon straightened her sweater and she snapped a couple of the snaps on his shirt. “Do we look presentable?” he asked, quirking up a brow.

“We both look like we've been kissing.” She reached up and stroked a touch of pink from his upper lip. “You're wearing my lipstick.”

He ran his thumb along her chin. “And you have a little bit of beard scratch on you. Someone like Allaire could tell.”

“They'll know anyway,” Erika said wryly, one arm around Dillon's waist, his around hers.

“How will they know?” he asked.

“Women just do. With what Allaire and Shandie have been through, they'll see.”

“Do you mind? Would you rather take a walk and then go back in?”

“A walk would be nice. But I want to make sure Emilia's behaving. And it's okay if your family knows. Allaire and Shandie aren't the type to gossip. They
had enough gossip tossed around about them, so they wouldn't do it to me.”

“I'm glad that's settled. That means I can kiss you whenever I want this weekend, and not worry about the consequences.”

But they both would be worrying about the consequences. They could change each other's worlds.

And that was the scariest thought of all.

D
illon's heart and mind were in turmoil as he glanced at the closed door to Erika's bedroom and descended the stairs early Sunday morning before sunup. He hadn't slept much last night. His room was next to Erika's and he could hear her moving around…hear her bed creak…hear Emilia when she had awakened in the middle of the night, then had soon quieted probably because Erika had gone to her and soothed her. It wasn't only his time in the barn with Erika yesterday that had caused the conflict in him. Last evening he had carried Emilia to her room, her little arms around his neck. She'd smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek before he'd laid her in the crib. He could so easily become attached to that little girl, let alone her mother.

What he needed was a strong cup of coffee. Not that the coffee would help him make any decisions. Time just seemed to be moving too fast. Frontier Days would
start on Friday. Then he'd be here another week and that was it.

Unless…

Should he consider moving his life because of an attraction? Because of tender feelings he felt for a child? Texas was his home. Yet when he gazed out at the mountains from his office, when he looked into Erika's eyes—

He'd reached the kitchen just as the sun was starting to pop up over the horizon. Angling around the island, heading for the coffeepot on the counter, he caught movement out on the deck. Going to the French doors, he spotted Erika wrapped in an afghan, looking toward the sunrise.

How long had she been down here?

She must have come down while he was in the shower or he would have heard her.

When he stepped out onto the deck, the sky was absolutely golden, streaked with pink and purple to the east and west of the sunrise. The peaks of the pines on D.J.'s property seemed to poke into the gold, making light rain over the whole backyard.

Erika shifted toward him, her profile backlit by the blazing sun. “I just stole down here for a few minutes.”

Without speaking, he just went over and sat beside her, sharing the moment.

“It's remarkable, isn't it? There's so much beauty in these hills.”

He knew Erika was talking about the sunrise, but he was thinking of other things that weren't as uplifting.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Did he want to tell her? Erika was an optimistic woman. She'd had to be to turn her life around as she
had. She saw her child as a gift and the beauty in the world the same way.

He liked to think
he
was an optimist, but he was a realist, too. “I'm thinking people come to Montana to find this beauty so they can take it back with them. It helps them deal with what isn't so beautiful in their lives.”

“Is that what you did? You came here in the summers and what you saw and what you did carried you through the rest of the year?”

“Yeah, I think that was the case. But I'm also thinking about the guests who come and go home and forget about the sunrise because they have to deal with everyday problems.”

“There are problems here, too,” Erika offered. “You saw some of them when you came to the potluck supper with me—men and women losing their jobs because of this economy, single moms trying to make ends meet on one salary… Thunder Canyon isn't immune.”

“No, I suppose it's not. I guess I was thinking about the mobile units I worked with in Houston. The refugees from Katrina who needed medical care. So often I wish I could do more as a doctor. So much is out of my hands.”

“Like your son passing too young? Like your dad dying when he was in his prime?”

She'd gone straight to the core of it. “Yes. Sometimes I have questions that are just too big for answers.”

Their chairs were close together and now she leaned toward him. “Did you ever consider joining Doctors Without Borders? Or just giving a few weeks to bring health care to children who need it instead of coming to a place like this to practice?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel me practicing medicine here isn't worthwhile?”

“I'm not saying that. But I think
you
believe you'd be doing more good somewhere else.”

Was Erika right? Would a concierge practice just increase his frustration that he couldn't do more?

“You asked me if I want to manage a resort someday,” she said. “I only want to manage a resort to prove I can. I want to add something like that to my résumé. But eventually what I'd really like to do is to work at a foundation where I can do some good.”

Dillon reached out and took her hand, sliding his thumb back and forth against her knuckles. He felt a tremble run through her and knew he could create desire in her, just as she created it in him. “Sometimes I think you believe that we're very different, that we've come from different worlds. But I don't think we are.”

“You're the heir to an oil fortune,” she pointed out. “You can work anywhere you want, do whatever you want to do, go wherever you want to go. You don't even
have
to work, if you don't want to. That in itself makes us very different, Dillon.”

Sometimes her preconceptions about him made him angry. “You don't think
I
need meaningful work to do, too? I became a doctor to make a difference.” And becoming a doctor was part of the reason why his marriage had fallen apart.

Erika let out a sigh and pulled her hand away. “You'll never understand how it feels to not have enough in your wallet to buy food for your next meal. You'll never understand how a father can walk out because he didn't want the responsibility of staying. You'll never understand what it is to have a new life to take care of when you haven't taken very good care of yourself. We
are
very different, Dillon. And one of the main differences is in a couple of weeks you'll be going back to Texas and I'll be staying here.”

What could he say to her?
I'm attracted to you but it's too soon to expect anything else? I want to take you to bed but I don't want the pain of loving and losing?
He remembered too well Megan's withdrawal because his hours were too long and his time with her too limited. She couldn't understand why he wanted to become a doctor when he had his inheritance from his dad to rely on. But all the money in the world couldn't save their son.

Although he'd only known Erika for two and a half weeks, he felt as if he'd known her for much longer. Yet he
was
a practical man. Especially after this conversation, he didn't believe Erika would expect him to give up medicine for her. For her
and
Emilia, he corrected himself.

Yet, knowing her for just two and a half weeks, how sure could he be about that?

 

Dillon's office was quiet all Monday afternoon. He cast a glance out to the reception area, knowing Erika's desk chair was empty. Dammit, he missed her and he didn't want to.

The drive home yesterday from D.J.'s had been awkward. So had their greeting this morning. This afternoon, she'd left for an appointment in town with Bo Clifton. That had added a layer of restlessness to the time Dillon had spent in his office this afternoon. He didn't know Bo well, but he did know one fact about him. He was a charmer…and a self-proclaimed renegade. That was one of the reasons he was running for mayor.

Dillon checked his watch. How long could Erika's meeting with Bo take? She had said she'd wanted to consult with him about when and where he'd be addressing the residents of Thunder Canyon on Friday afternoon. All that would take about fifteen minutes. She'd been gone two hours.

It was none of his business.

A half hour later he was still trying to convince himself of that when Bo and Erika sailed into his office. Bo raised a hand in greeting and Dillon rose from his desk, walking to the middle of the room to shake his hand.

“It's good to see you again,” Bo said. They'd run into each other in June at the town barbecue.

“It's good to see you, too.” Dillon glanced over at Erika. Today she'd worn her hair in a chignon with tendrils escaping around her face. In a long-sleeved silky blouse with a navy vest and skirt, she was beautiful. In fact, Bo was looking at her now, too, and Dillon didn't like the glint in his eye.

“Good luck with your candidacy,” Dillon forced himself to say, returning his attention to Bo.

“I intend to add hard work and glad-handing to that luck. Erika was kind enough to be a test audience for my speech.”

“It's really good,” she said, coming closer to the two men. “It lays out all the ways he's going to make this town better.”

“I thought you were meeting at campaign headquarters.” Bo's office was downtown in a drugstore whose proprietor had just retired.

“Oh, we did,” Bo assured him. “But I had business up here with Grant, so I told Erika I'd walk her in. She was really a big help with my speech and helped me clarify a couple of points. Who knows? After I become mayor,
I might have to steal her away from the resort and bring her into the mayor's office.”

Erika beamed with pleasure at Bo's compliment.

“Well, I know you two probably have work to do and Grant doesn't like it when I keep him waiting,” Bo said. “It was good to see you again, Dillon.” He lightly touched Erika's arm. “I'll see you again on Friday.”

“I'll be in the front row listening.”

Bo gave her a smile that Dillon knew would melt most of his female constituents.

After Bo left, Dillon asked Erika, “Had you met Bo before today?”

“Not really. I had a couple of phone conversations with him. Why?”

“You two seem to get along well.”

“He seems like a nice guy.” She was looking at Dillon with puzzlement.

“Lots of women think he is.”

“Are you trying to warn me away from him?”

“No, of course not,” Dillon answered gruffly, and went back to his desk. He had no right to tell Erika whom she could and couldn't see. He had no rights at all where she was concerned.

And that nettled him most.

He couldn't help but glance at her when he got back to his desk. She was still standing there studying him, head tilted, tendrils floating around her face in a way that made him want to brush them back. She asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Yet he knew it was.

“Well, I'll see you later,” Erika said, waiting to see if he had something to discuss with her.

But he didn't. “Later,” he repeated.

She left his office.

Erika worked on the computer the rest of the afternoon and Dillon didn't interrupt her. He didn't go near her. Whenever he did, he was overcome by the desire to take her into his arms, kiss her and take her to bed. He hadn't wanted a woman like this in a very long time. He couldn't even remember wanting Megan like this. Their physical relationship had always been satisfactory, except near the end. But he'd never felt the kind of need he felt coming from Erika, or even within himself. And that made him uneasy.

When Erika stopped in to say goodbye around 5:00, Dillon was somewhat curt. She looked…hurt.

Dammit, he didn't want to hurt her.

There was only one thing to do. Go after her and attempt to explain. She was walking out of the reception area when Dillon caught up with her. She looked up at him and he could see the conflict in her eyes…could practically feel the emotion washing through her.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked.

“You didn't do anything wrong. I know I was a bear this afternoon.”

“A quiet bear,” she said, breaking into a little smile.

“What's your favorite takeout? I'll pick some up and bring it over and we'll have supper with Emilia.”

“Are you sure you want to?”

He could see she was remembering their conversation from Sunday. He was, too. “Yes, I do.”

“And Emilia?” she asked, knowing he had mixed feelings about spending time with her little girl.

“And with Emilia. I can't wall myself off from children forever.”

“But that's what you try to do.”

He didn't deny it. “I know. I'll try not to tonight.”

Erika looked as if she wanted to ask what that meant, but she didn't. She just said, “Emilia likes the fried chicken from that little restaurant over on Pine Street. If you could pick up some, that would be great. I have veggies I can warm up and some potato casserole I had left over from last night. If you don't mind leftovers,” she added.

“The truth is, I don't care what we eat—I just want to be with you and Emilia.”

He didn't touch her, though he wanted to. He promised her nothing would happen here where they worked. He kept his promises.

But she laid her hand on his bicep, and the contact seared not only his arm but his very center. “Then I'll see you in a little while.”

He watched Erika walk down the hall into the huge lobby and get lost in the people mingling there. He'd notice her in any size crowd. He'd know her from a mile away.

He wasn't going to think about shoulds or shouldn'ts tonight. He was just going to try to stay in the moment.

Stay in the moment.

 

When Dillon knocked on Erika's door, a box of chicken in hand, he heard Emilia crying inside.

When he rapped harder, Erika called, “It's open. Come in.”

After he opened the door and stepped inside, he found Emilia seated on the living room floor, red-faced and crying, pounding her little fists on her knees. Erika was kneeling beside her, talking to her in a calm voice. But it didn't seem to be helping. He guessed the toy bin next
to Emilia was the source of her frustration, though he didn't know why.

“I brought supper,” he called, smiling at Emilia, hoping to break the thread of whatever was going on.

She glanced at him for a moment, stopped crying, but then a second later continued again.