“She cared about him. She thought she was in love with him. He was a businessman who traveled a lot and only wanted the condo here for skiing in the winter, and maybe some hiking in the summer. He didn’t want a life here. He wanted entertainment while he was here.”
“Stacy—”
“You asked,” she drawled.
After a long pause, he asked, “So what was the gossip about?” He felt annoyed that people couldn’t keep their noses where they belonged.
“The rumor was that Erika was a gold digger who took up with Spencerman for what he could give her.”
“Is he still around?”
“God, no. When Erika found herself pregnant, he sublet his condo and disappeared. I don’t know what really happened. I don’t know if anyone does. But Erika was out of work after Emilia was born and I think things got pretty rough. Now she barely talks to anyone while she works and leads a very private life. No one really knows if the rumors about her were true or not. Many people thought she got what she deserved.”
“A child and heartache?” Dillon asked. “Just what kind of people live here?” Dillon had met women who wanted to date him because of what he had rather than who he was. Erika didn’t seem like that type at all. Could a whole town be wrong?
He thought about his mother and stepfather. Could a whole family be wrong?
“Are you interested in Erika?” Stacy asked, surprised.
He supposed that was because she knew he hadn’t dated since he and Megan divorced.
“Will you tell me she’s after my money if I say I am?”
“No. But I’ll tell you to watch your back and your heart.” She reached across the table and clasped his hand. “I know what you’ve been through—losing Toby and then your divorce. We’re friends, Dillon. We have been since we were kids. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He smiled and shrugged off her concern. “How can I possibly get hurt? I’m only going to be here a month and then I’ll be returning to Texas.”
“A lot can happen in a month,” Stacy prophesied.
Part of him hoped her prediction was wrong. The other part of him hoped she was right. He felt as if he’d been living in a bunker since Toby died … since Megan had left. In his group practice with three other doctors, he’d seen patients and dealt with insurance companies until he was too tired to see straight. Each night he’d gone home and collapsed, many nights falling asleep on the couch with the television blaring so it overrode his thoughts. Perhaps a casual relationship was the antidote he so desperately needed.
Erika has a child, he reminded himself.
Maybe Corey was right and it was time for him to leave his bunker … to bury his regrets and the guilt that he’d failed to save his son. He remembered again the way he’d felt at the Hitching Post with Erika in his arms. Would she say yes if he asked her out again?
He might just have to take a chance and find out.
Chapter Three
Dillon slowed on Thursday morning when he spotted Erika at the coffee bar not far from the main lobby. Usually he brewed a pot of coffee in his suite. This morning, however, he’d needed to go to his office, get to work … and forget.
He’d been awake most of the night, remembering the day his wife had left. She’d said, “Toby’s gone and there’s nothing holding us together anymore. I want a new life. I don’t want to be married to a doctor.”
He could have told her he’d leave medicine. He could have told her he’d work in management at Traub Industries and build the portfolio he’d inherited. In the end, he’d known if she couldn’t accept his need to be a doctor, their marriage had truly collapsed.
With the old memories still ricocheting in his head and Erika standing about ten feet away, he decided he might need a double espresso this morning.
When Erika turned from the cashier, a tall coffee in her hand, he noticed the navy suit she wore projecting professionalism and decorum. It was a different style than the one she’d worn yesterday, with larger lapels … more fitted at her waist. Her very slim waist. The white silk blouse had a V-neckline. It was quite sedate, but the sedateness itself was alluring. She’d pulled her hair back from her face and secured it in a tight chignon, but there again the severity of the style just showed off the beauty of her face and her dark eyes.
Dillon checked his watch. When his gaze met hers, he motioned to one of the small, black wrought-iron tables. “I’ll get my coffee and join you.” He really didn’t want to give her a chance to say no.
Indecision flickered across her face, but then she nodded and crossed to one of the tables, one a bit removed from the others in a shadowed corner. Did she not want anyone to see them together? Because of all that gossip Stacy had mentioned?
When he joined her, she was seated, staring into her coffee as if it held the schedule for her day. He didn’t sit across from her, but rather beside her. She didn’t move her chair away.
As she looked up at him, he asked, “So do you drink straight coffee or one of those exotic drinks?”
That’s obviously not what she’d expected him to ask. “Do you really want to know?”
His arm was on the table and he leaned a little closer to her. “Yes, I want to know … in case I pick up coffee for the two of us some morning.”
“I think that’s on my roster of duties.”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s simply a courtesy. So what do you drink?”
“A double-shot latte. And you?”
“Straight espresso.”
“Now that that’s settled, why did you really ask me to join you for coffee?” she asked him, choosing to be direct.
“Because I like you.”
Again, surprise showed on her face. “You always say the unexpected.”
“Maybe that’s because you think men are predictable.”
Tilting her head, she studied him more assessingly. “So you’re telling me you’re not like most men.”
“I don’t know. What do you expect from most men?”
“That’s beside the point.” She lowered her gaze to her coffee again as if she didn’t want to reveal any secrets.
Even sitting next to her like this, he could feel the attraction between them. He wouldn’t let her put him in the same category as other men in her life. “That’s exactly the point. You never told me why you ran away from me at the Hitching Post.”
“I didn’t run away,” she protested, her chin lifting, her eyes flashing a bit, revealing passion he realized he’d like to tap.
He liked her flash. “You just evaded my question. Evading is pretty much the same as running away.” If he challenged her, he might get to the root of the problem.
Her grip tightened on her coffee. “All right. It was the way you talked about possibly spending time with your cousins’ children. You were so detached … like you were saying the words but you didn’t really mean them.”
She was perceptive … way too perceptive. After practicing the past few years, he thought he had his neutral face down pat. But this wasn’t the place to tell her why he tried to be detached. To tell her about Toby … and Megan. “How did you interpret the detachment?”
She weighed his question, apparently understanding he was giving nothing away. “It meant you don’t want the responsibility of children because you believe