Sheltered by the Millionaire (11 page)

“Hey,” she tugged his tie, “you ignored me too.”

He tugged her loose ponytail in return. “I gave you space when it looked like you were going to cause a scene.”

Before she could launch a retort, he kissed her silent, and this man knew how to kiss. Her arms slid around his neck and she knew without question he was a good man who would try like hell for her.

Which was going to make this hurt so much worse if it didn’t work out.

* * *

Whit was mighty damn pleased with how the therapy dog issue had shaken down.

He stood in the back of the Little Tots Daycare classroom with Megan while all the kids sat in a circle on a rug. The town had done an amazing job at getting the facility functional quickly so the children could get back into a regular routine, the kind of reassurance they needed after such a frightening event.

Their teacher was reading them a book about tornadoes. The golden retriever was calm, but alert, carefully moving from child to child as if knowing which one was most in need of comfort, whether with a simple touch of his paw or resting his head on a knee, or just letting a dozen little hands burrow in his fur.

As the teacher closed the book, she looked up at her students. “What do you think about the story we just read?”

Beside Evie, a little girl with glasses admitted, “I was scared.”

“Not me,” said the boy in tiny cowboy boots sitting on the other side of Evie.

“Yes, you were,” the girl with glasses retorted. “You were crying. I saw you wipe boogers on your sleeve.”

Evie raised her hand until the teacher called on her. “I was scared,” Evie said. “I told my mom I held Caitlyn’s hand ’cause she was scared. But it was really me. I was the fraidy cat.”

The retriever belly crawled over to Evie and rested his head on her leg. Evie rubbed the dog’s ears, her eyes wide and watery.

The teacher leaned forward in her rocking chair. “We were all afraid that day. That’s why we have the drills. So we know what to do in an emergency.”

Evie kept stroking the dog and talking. “What if another tora-na-do comes to our school? What if it hurts Mommy’s car again, ’cept it gets Mommy too?”

Megan started to move forward, but Whit rested a hand on her arm. It was hard as hell for him to hear the little imp’s fears too, but she was talking. Thank God, she was talking. Megan’s hand slid into his and held on.

The teacher angled forward, giving all the right grown-up answers that Evie took in with wide eyes, both her hands buried in the dog’s fur.

Evie kept talking, but she smiled periodically. Something that didn’t happen often.

Megan’s chin trembled. “This is so incredible to watch,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t have even thought twice about the article if not for you.” He ducked his head to keep their voices low so as not to disturb the class. “You do a good job educating about your work at the shelter.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“I knew about service dogs for the disabled and I’d heard there were studies showing that owning a pet lowers blood pressure.” He scanned the group of little ones up front with the dog. “But this is a whole new world.” In more ways than one.

“I think of it all as the balance of nature.”

“That makes sense.”

“Taking care of our resources.” She looked up at him pointedly.

“Hey, I’ve started recycling water bottles and cans because of you.”

She clapped a hand to her chest. “Be still my heart.”

“Are you making fun of me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I happen to think that was a very romantic gesture on my part.”

“It is sweet. But you would be wise to remember, sometimes I don’t have much of a sense of humor when it comes to things like this. You just caught me on a good day.”

“Fair enough.” He had a feeling there was a lot more to learn about Megan before he could banish the wary look that still lurked in her green eyes. “I will keep that in mind.”

He glanced at his watch, and damn, he was running late. When he woke up this morning, he hadn’t thought there was a chance in hell he could get through the day of Craig’s memorial service without a bottle by his side. But Megan and Evie had given him a welcome distraction. They were good for him.

“Do you have a meeting?” she asked.

“I need to go home to change and get some things together for Craig’s memorial service.”

She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh God, Whit, I’m so sorry. How selfish of me not to think about how difficult today is for you.” She touched his shoulder lightly. “What can I do?”

“This helped keep my mind off things.”

“I’ll meet you at the church.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to be there for you.”

He brushed his hand along her back, which was as much contact as would be appropriate here in a classroom full of kids. But he knew how tough it was for Megan to spend time away from her daughter and appreciated her being there for him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

This wasn’t a day when he could feel joyful by any means, but suddenly the weight didn’t seem as heavy.

* * *

Since her parents’ death, Megan had avoided funerals and memorial services, but she’d wanted to be here for Whit. As she stood in the church vestibule with Whit after the service, she was relieved it was over, and certain that attending had been absolutely the right decision.

It had been emotional experience for everyone. Not just mourning their friend, but also remembering that fateful day all their lives had been forever changed so quickly. Paige Richardson’s husband was taken from her in an instant.... A thought that had Megan reaching for Whit’s hand.

Whit’s words about his friend had brought tears to her eyes, reaffirming how important it was to be here for him. He was trying so hard and there was danger in a relationship that was too one-sided. It wasn’t fair to him.

At least the service had been in the evening so she wouldn’t be spending as much time away from Evie. Her daughter had been excited talking about going to preschool tomorrow. She’d chattered about her friends and all the fun activities coming up for December.

Megan stood silently at Whit’s side while he gave his condolences to Craig Richardson’s widow Paige and his twin brother Colby, who’d returned to town from his home in Dallas.

Everyone was making small talk, doing their best to hold it together. Then Whit took her elbow and guided her outside, shouldering through the crowd and into the chilly night full of stars. In the dark, the scars from the storm didn’t show. It was almost if it never happened. Except tonight reminded her too well it had.

She tucked her arm in his. “Are you okay?”

“Hanging in there. It’s hard to believe he’s been gone for over a month.” Whit sighed, cricking his neck to the side as they walked to his truck.

“Did I hear right that R&N Builders is helping out with the reconstruction?” Colby Richardson and Whit’s friend Aaron Nichols were partners in the business.

“You did. Colby has offered all the services of his very successful company to help,” Whit confirmed, although his forehead was still furrowed over what should have been a good piece of news.

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to have more time with your friends, especially now.”

“Hmm.”

She squeezed his arm as they walked. “Something’s bothering you?”

“The whole evening is just surreal. Especially seeing Colby with Paige.”

“Because Colby is Craig’s twin?”

He shook his head. “Because Colby and Craig each went out with Paige in high school. There is still a lot of tension between Colby and Paige.”

“It must be difficult for her to have him around reminding her of her dead husband.”

“Maybe so.” He nodded, stopping beside his truck and opening the door for her. “Tonight sure makes a person think hard about what’s important.”

“That’s an understatement.” She climbed inside, thinking back to the first time she’d sat inside this vehicle, terrified for her daughter.

He settled behind the wheel without starting the truck. “It meant a lot to me to have you here.”

“Of course I was here for you.”

He stretched his arm along the seat, his fingers toying with her hair. “I think we both know what we have going is about more than sex.”

His words stirred up a flurry of nerves in her belly. “Are you saying you’re thinking about happily ever after and white picket fences?”

“I’m saying you mean something to me.” He angled toward her, his eyes intense in the darkness. “And yeah, that scares the hell out of me, but this isn’t casual. Not for me.”

“Well, it scares the hell out of me to think about letting a man in my life again.” As terrified as she was to say the words out loud, tonight had reminded her there were no guarantees in life. She linked her fingers with his. “But it scares me more to think about not trying at all.”

Eleven

W
hit couldn’t remember being this nervous—and genuinely pumped up—about a Friday night date.

But then he’d never proposed to a woman before.

The diamond solitaire damn near burning a hole in his suit coat pocket, he shifted gears on his Porsche as he drove through Royal with Megan at his side. They weren’t hiding out in some tucked away place. He’d chosen a restaurant near his Pine Valley home, where the odds of running into friends were high. Megan had agreed. The whole town knew they were dating. Evie had accepted him into their routine this past week.

And soon, everyone would see the ring on her finger.

Things were moving fast, sure, but during the week since Craig’s memorial service, Whit had felt as if he and Megan had lived two lifetimes together. Their lives fit together. More than fit. They were good together and he didn’t want to lose that. He’d been searching his whole life for a steady home life to build a family. Megan was the perfect woman for him.

Steering through the night streets, he noted the Christmas lights just beginning to crop up in windows and could see the efforts to rebuild the town starting to bear fruit. There was still a lot of work to be done, but then couldn’t that be said about life overall? Everything was a work in progress. And he looked forward to meeting the challenge with Megan at his side.

God, she was gorgeous in a green lace dress, her thick hair swept up into one of those loose kinds of topknots that somehow stayed in place but begged his fingers to set free. She was such an intriguing mix of contrasts. On the one hand, a no-nonsense kind of woman not afraid to get her hands dirty whether she was working with animals or building a compost heap. On the other hand, an elegant woman as comfortable curled up reading her daughter a book as she was dressing up for a five-star evening out. Megan’s confidence didn’t come from a sense of entitlement or wealth. It came from within. From having tackled life head on and made her way in the world.

He respected that.

Megan trailed her fingers along the window as they drove past the Royal Diner, still closed due to damages from the storm. “Evie and I used to have supper there on days I would work late.”

“Amanda will reopen,” he said. “It’s just going to take a while. I hear she and Nathan took out good insurance on the place. With luck the diner will be even better than ever.”

“Like the hospital?” She smoothed a hand over her green lace dress. “I almost feel guilty getting all dressed up to have fun when there are still people dealing with the chaos of the aftermath.”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself. You work hard and deserve a break. I think even the people who are struggling take comfort from seeing life returning to normal around them. It’s good to do regular things. Support local businesses.” He rested his hand on top of the steering wheel. “I know a perfect diner Evie will love when you two move in with me—I guess I should say, ‘What if you and Megan moved in with me?’”

Wait, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say. He was going to propose, then ask her to move in while they were engaged. But damn it, the words were already out there, so he held his peace as he stopped at a red light and waited for her response.

“What did you say?” she asked carefully.

“I have plenty of space.” The light changed and he accelerated, weighing his words. “It’s a gated community, so you two would have more security. And Evie would enjoy the Pine Valley community stables and pool. I’m thinking she could use some jodhpurs. Maybe for Christmas?”

“Maybe,” Megan said noncommittally. To the riding clothes or moving in?

He needed to shift into damage control ASAP.

“Is that a no to moving in?” If so, that didn’t bode well for his plans to propose.

“You’ve sprung this on me rather quickly. Can we talk more about it, please?” Her fingers clenched and tangled together in her lap. “I have a lot to consider with Evie. She’s only just stopped wearing costumes—thank you again for bringing the therapy dog to her school. You were right about that.”

Did that mean she trusted him more? “I did it for all the kids. And for the animals too. I’m glad Ms. Baker was able to take two off your hands.”

“You and me both.” She twisted in the seat toward him. “I didn’t mean to be short about moving in together. You just caught me unaware.”

He glanced at her beautiful face, full of worry. “It’s okay. Like you said, we can talk more later. We have time.”

They had time and he had plans. He knew the right opportunity would present itself for the proposal. And he’d even chosen a gift for her he thought would let her know just how much he cared about her as a person and accepted their differences.

She smiled, and it damn near took his breath away. “Taking our time. I like the sound of that.”

* * *

Megan had barely tasted a bite of the appetizer, soup, salad or main course. Her mind was still on Whit’s surprise suggestion that they live together. Things were moving so fast, she felt as if she was still stuck in the tornado sometimes.

But with each minute that passed, she found herself considering the possibility more seriously.

They were all but spending every waking hour outside of work together. Evie didn’t even question his presence. If anything, her daughter questioned when he would arrive. She’d even asked if he could pick her up from day care. He was everything Megan could have hoped for in a man, on so many levels. So much so, it scared her sometimes how well things were going. Maybe that’s why she was nervous about moving in together. It was like tempting fate.

The waiter cleared away their dinner plates and brought dessert. “Mr. Daltry,” the waiter said, “just as you ordered, our chef made this especially for your celebration. A dark chocolate and orange tart with toasted almonds. I hope it is to your satisfaction.”

Orange and chocolate? Surely not a coincidence?

The twinkle in Whit’s eyes confirmed he’d intended the treat as a reminder of their time together in the greenhouse.

“I’m sure it will be perfect,” Whit answered smoothly. “Please pass along my thanks.”

Megan pressed a hand to her mouth to stop a laugh as the waiter left them alone again. “You’re wicked.”

“Just reminding you of all the wonderful times we can have together in the future.” His hand gravitated to his suit coat, smoothing his lapel as he’d done a number of times throughout the dinner.

Was he as nervous as she over this? In a strange way she found it comforting, more of a sign he took this big step seriously.

“About what you said in the car regarding moving in together, I’m still not ready to say yes outright, but I want to think about it. And for me that’s huge.”

His hand fell away from his jacket and she linked fingers with him.

“Whit, we have something wonderful started. Let’s not rush.”

“Sure, of course,” he agreed, but the tight lines of his mouth indicated that she’d let him down.

Couldn’t he see how hard she was trying by letting herself be swept into his world so fast? She thought they’d really made progress. And it wasn’t as if she just had herself to consider. A move would be a lot of upheaval for Evie at a time when she was just settling back into school and enjoying herself.

Megan tried to think of a better way to help Whit understand—to ease that tense expression on his face—when a cleared throat from behind him drew her attention upward.

Colby Richardson stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets. His resemblance to his late brother Craig was shocking. The man had a closed-off air emotionally, but that was understandable given what he must be going through. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I wanted to congratulate you.”

Megan looked up in confusion. Whit couldn’t have already told people of his plans to move in together, could he? Whit stood, as if to quiet the man, which only fueled her concerns—and confusion.

“Thanks, Colby. I appreciate that. Could I treat your table to another round of drinks?” Whit asked, clearly trying to divert him.

“Of course. I see you have a bottle of champagne on its way over. I should leave you both to celebrate your big purchase.”

Megan frowned. “Big purchase?”

“Yes,” Colby said. “Whit managed quite a coup this week in scooping up the stretch of wetlands on the edge of town.”

Her insides chilled faster than that bottle of bubbly in the ice bucket. “You bought up the wetlands?”

“Yes,” Whit shuffled his feet, “but it’s not exactly what you’re thinking.”

Colby backed away. “Sorry to have spilled the beans prematurely. I’ll just leave the two of you to talk. Good evening.”

The clean-cut real estate mogul turned and made a beeline to his table, leaving Megan alone with Whit again.

She restrained the urge to snap at Whit. He was a businessman, first and foremost. She knew that. She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d proceeded as planned. He’d never misled her about who he was.

Still, she couldn’t stem the deep well of disappointment pooling in her stomach.

“Megan? Do you want to hear what I have to say?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She folded her napkin in her lap, wishing she could sweep this disagreement away along with the breadcrumbs. “I understand we’re different people. I’m not angry.”

It cost her, but she would make peace. Try harder. Damn it, she was trying harder.

“But you’re upset with me.” Tension threaded through his shoulders, his jaw flexing.

She met his eyes and answered honestly. “Disappointed.”

“Megan, our careers are separate. I respect your professionalism and I expect you to respect mine.”

“Okay,” she answered carefully, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to compromise my principles.”

“You’re calling me unprincipled?”

She struggled for a way to wind back out of this discussion that was playing out like too many confrontations they’d had over the years. Had the past couple of weeks just been a fluke, with reality now intruding once again? “We’ve had this disagreement for years. Did you think I was magically going to change because we...”

She couldn’t even push the last words free without her voice cracking. She snatched up her water glass, her hand trembling with emotion.

He held her eyes without speaking for what felt like an eternity. Dishes and silverware clanked. The candles flickered between them, the dim chandelier above casting more shadows than light.

Finally, he shook his head. “You’ve already made up your mind about me. It’s clear we have nothing left to say to each other.”

How dare he act disillusioned with her? In the span of a couple of weeks, she’d done an about-face on so many of her stances to be with him. She was even willing to overlook this land purchase, as much as it galled her, and accept that they were different.

But now she suspected in spite of all his words to the contrary, he didn’t want to be with her after all. Because it wasn’t good enough for him that she would compromise on this issue. He needed her to be on his side. Think like him. Cheer on his plan to destroy wetlands she felt passionately about.

Why couldn’t they just leave it be? Like so many men she’d seen in the past, he was okay to let their relationship self-destruct. He’d found an out and taken it. The knowledge burned all the way down her throat. She shot up from her chair before she did something humiliating like burst into tears.

Or worse yet, accept anything he said as truth just to stay with him.

* * *

Anger and frustration making his blood boil, Whit strode through the restaurant after Megan. He angled past the Richardson family at one table, the sheriff and his wife at another, and barely registered that they spoke to him because his focus was fully on Megan.

He charged past a Christmas tree covered in golden lone stars and white twinkling lights. Whit pushed through the door and stopped beside Megan, who was standing under the restaurant awning. “Megan—”

“The doorman is calling a cab for me.” Her arms were crossed tight over her chest as her teeth chattered, her face every bit as chilly as her body language.

He held up a hand to stop the doorman from hailing a taxi. “Damn it, that’s not necessary. I brought you here. I’ll drive you home.”

“That would be awkward.” She squeezed her eyes closed and then nodded to the doorman, silently signaling him to flag down a ride. “Please, just let me go. You already made it clear we have nothing left to say to one another.”

Her struggle to hold back tears tugged at him. Damn it all, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But pride held him back from telling her the truth about that land. He needed her to believe in him. “You’re upset. I get that.” He took her arm and gently guided her away from the restaurant’s main entrance. “But this isn’t the place.”

She let him steer her a few steps to the side. “The facts won’t change if we’re in your car.”

“The facts?” He bit back a weary sigh. “You don’t understand—”

“How about this for facts?” Her arms slid to her side, her hands clenched in tight fists. “You’ve been buying up land since the tornado. Taking advantage of people’s pain. So fine. Tell me how I’m wrong,” she finished defiantly.

“Taking advantage?” He searched for the words to make her understand, for the words to keep her in his life. “I’ve been buying property from people who needed to cut their losses. If I wasn’t there to buy from them, they would lose everything rather than walking away with the money to start over. We’ve discussed this before.”

He’d spent his childhood seeing his family’s life repossessed. He wasn’t lying when he told her he tried to help people in his town as best he could. He swallowed back the past and focused on the present, on Megan.

She shook her head. “And destroying the wetlands? How is that ‘helping’ people? Sounds like you’re making excuses. You can justify it however you want, but I don’t see it the same way.”

The sound system hummed with a symphonic version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” as if mocking him with memories of a holiday spent in a homeless shelter until his dad landed on his feet again. Granted, they had all gotten gifts that year, courtesy of a local church group.