“Mom, how can you say that? For the past three years, all I’ve wanted to do is to live on my own, mother on my own, take care of Emilia on my own.”
“And it’s hard, isn’t it?” Her mother’s eyes searched for the truth.
“Yes, it’s hard. But it’s also satisfying. I’m working to build a future for two. That gives me motivation and a goal. My life isn’t just about me anymore, it’s about the two of us. I don’t like Dillon because of everything you mentioned. I like him because—”
She took a breath and needed a moment to say something her mother could accept. After switching off the burner, she flipped the omelet on to a plate.
“Tell me,” her mother prompted.
“If I tell you, you’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“He makes me feel alive. He makes me feel like I’m more than I am.”
Her mom didn’t laugh, but now she looked really worried. “You’ve fallen for him. Erika, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I don’t want to get hurt again, either, but I haven’t dated in three years, Mom. I haven’t wanted to be with a man for three years. Being near Dillon makes me want things again.” She wasn’t going to go into what those things were, but from the look on her mom’s face, Erika could tell Constance got the gist.
This time as Emilia came around the corner of the table, her sneaker bumped a chair leg and she fell. Both Erika and her mom rushed to her.
“You’re okay,” Constance assured her granddaughter. “Come on, let me help you up.”
As soon as she was standing again, Emilia toddled to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. Caught in the little girl’s embrace, Erika gazed at her mother. “Don’t worry about me, Mom, I’m going to be fine.”
Constance laid one hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and the other on her granddaughter’s hair. “I don’t know if you will be fine. But I trust you to know what’s best for you.”
Erika had been thinking and organizing and planning her future ever since the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She wouldn’t stop now just because Dillon Traub’s kisses turned her insides to mush.
All weekend, Erika had thought about how close she’d been to going to Vegas with Dillon. The idea of it gave her that going-over-the-top-of-the-Ferris-wheel feeling and she wasn’t even sure why, given what a colossal mistake that would have been.
Yet as she locked her purse in her desk drawer Monday morning and switched on the computer, she knew she looked forward to seeing him in spite of every good reason to keep her distance. Because Dillon was as punctual as she was, Erika listened for the sound of his footsteps. She was sipping her cup of coffee when she heard them.
Something was different. His stride was usually quick and smooth with an athlete’s agility. This morning, however, when he appeared beside her desk, she knew something was definitely wrong. There was a scrape on his jaw and his breathing was deliberate and slow.
“What happened to you?” she asked, knowing whatever had, it was none of her business.
A smile broke slowly across his lips. “I scored.”
For a moment, his words didn’t compute. Then she realized he’d been involved in some kind of sport.
“I don’t suppose you were bowling?” she asked with a lifted brow.
He laughed and put a hand across his ribs. Shaking his head, he said, “Touch football.”
“With enemies or friends?”
“Dax, Marlon Cates and a few others.”
He took a deep breath and seemed to wish he hadn’t. In fact, he’d even gone a little pale.
She hurried around the desk and stood very close to him. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe you should call Dr. Babcheck and just go up to the suite and rest.”
Now he looked a little angry. Straightening, he dropped his arm to his side as if to prove he was fine. “Just a few bruised ribs. I don’t need to call my backup. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.”
Then as if he didn’t want her asking any more questions or studying him further, he went down the hall to his office, his posture almost in a military stance as if he had to prove something to her.
As Erika answered the phone, fed information to reporters about Zane’s concert, worked on schedules for activities for Frontier Days and made multiple lists for everything she still had to do, she found herself worrying about Dillon and wanting to check on him. Because he was her employer?
Hardly.
Because he’d kissed her?
It wasn’t just that, either.
At lunchtime, she decided she really needed to look in on him. She could do that easily. She’d ask him if there was anything he wanted for lunch, even though he’d told her she didn’t have to do that.
But when she stood before his closed door, knocking didn’t seem easy after all. Gathering her courage, she did it anyway.
He called, “Come in,” with less forcefulness than usual, she thought.
Dillon was seated at his desk, a medical journal open in front of him. She noticed some papers that had apparently floated off the printer and onto the floor. Automatically she went to them to pick them up.
“I can get those,” he told her and stooped to do it. But when he did, she could see his grimace, the pain evident on his face with his quick intake of breath.
“Dillon,” she said gently, crouching down beside him, scooping up the papers that had fallen there. “You shouldn’t be here. In fact, I’m pretty sure you should be at the emergency room. You need to see a doctor.”
“I am a doctor, Erika. Even if I cracked a rib, there’s nothing I can do for it but let it heal.”
He was one stubborn man, but that didn’t surprise her. Males usually were stubborn. She dismissed the fact that she could be, too. “Just what would you tell a patient in your condition?” she challenged him.
“I’d tell a patient to rest,” he grumbled, almost under his breath.
She clasped his forearm and when she did, the connection she felt to him was hot and tingling. “And maybe you’d advise them to take some pain medication?”
“I’m not taking pain medication,” he snapped. “I’ll tough this out today and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Exasperated with him, she stood. “I could call Ruthann and ask her to come in a little early.”
“Her regular hours are fine. I’m fine.”
“Sure you are, and I’m Miss U.S.A.”
Now he cracked a grin. “You could be.”
“That’s not in my life plan.”
He turned serious now. “Just what is your life plan, other than becoming a resort manager someday?”
“It’s not complicated. I just want to be a good mother to Emilia and help her grow into an independent young woman.”
“But what do you want for yourself?”
“I haven’t had time to think about that.”
“I think you’ve thought about it, but you were so hurt by your last relationship you’ve closed off the possibility of another one.”
At his all-too-perceptive comment, Erika suddenly realized how badly