The Bachelor (11 page)

She’d gathered every ounce of courage she possessed to turn back toward him and reenact her fantasy. To reach out for him
first. To accept and give in to his kiss despite knowing he could hurt her badly. And he had. The man had given her ego a
huge bruising she wouldn’t soon forget. Now she knew how he’d felt all those years ago. Payback sucked royally, she thought.

And yet she couldn’t deny his lingering appeal. She let her gaze wander across the packed room. He was scrumptiously alluring
in black jeans and a white pullover shirt. He stood out from the crowd, and not just by defying convention and not wearing
green. Her eyes were drawn back to him again and again. Apparently the problem wasn’t mutual, because he hadn’t once glanced
her way.

Instead he drifted from single female to single female, plying his charm, easy grin, and sex appeal. It galled Charlotte to
see that he had an extremely receptive audience. She was merely one of many. And it hurt.

She arrived back at her station to find she had company. Raina Chandler sat behind the long table serving as a makeshift bar.
“Hi, Raina.”

The older woman graced her with a huge, welcoming smile.

“Let me look at you.” Charlotte stepped back and took in the older woman’s appearance. She was slender as always and a makeup-induced
glow radiated in her cheeks. From looking at Raina, Charlotte couldn’t tell she’d been in the hospital. “You look wonderful!”

“Thank you. I’m trying not to let my health get me down.” Raina’s glance darted sideways, then back again.

“Well, haven’t seen you all week. I hope that means you’re taking good care of yourself. One hospital trip is one too many.”

Raina nodded. “I’m learning to be more cautious,” she acknowledged. “Now back to you. I’ve come to relieve you. Go mingle.”

“Oh, no.” Charlotte shook her head. “I’m not going to let you stand on your feet and handle punch bowl duty. You need rest.”

Raina waved a hand in the air, dismissing the possibility. “I’m not your replacement.”

Charlotte glanced around, but she didn’t see anyone with her. “Who is? Not my mother, I hope?”

“Last I saw, your mother was doing quite nicely. Socializing, even.”

“Dennis Sterling?” Charlotte asked, unable to hide the hope in her voice.

“Unfortunately, Dennis is going to be late.”

“Darn.” As the town’s only veterinarian, any animal emergency fell into Dennis’s lap.

Raina patted her hand. “Don’t worry. If the man’s interested, once he takes a look at your mom tonight, he’ll be persistent.”

“Isn’t she gorgeous? I picked her dress myself.”

“Your taste is impeccable, as always. You look beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” Knowing she’d picked out this outfit with Raina’s youngest son in mind, Charlotte felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
Especially since she’d decided to go with something daring, an outfit she’d purchased during her New York City days.

Maybe he’d been able to resist her enough to pull away, but not before she’d felt his body’s reaction to her. The man wasn’t
immune. And tonight she needed the ego boost of having his appraising eyes focused on her. Unfortunately, that blue gaze wasn’t
nearly as interested in her tonight as she’d hoped.

“I understand you and my youngest had a run-in,” Raina said, as if she could see into Charlotte’s innermost thoughts.

The flush turned into a full-fledged burn in her cheeks. Who could possibly have seen her with Roman? she wondered, this afternoon’s
events playing out in erotic detail in her mind. “I … uh … we …”

“Met up again in Norman’s a few nights ago. Rick told me.” Raina ignored Charlotte’s exhale of relief and merely patted her
hand once more. “You never know what might develop after years apart. I’m here to give you a chance to put that sexy outfit
to good use. Sam’s going to watch the punch bowl, aren’t you?” Raina reached behind her and pulled the town’s ultimate loner
into view.

“Hi, Sam.” She was surprised he’d ventured into a crowded function, but free food and drink might explain that.

“I wanted to ask you how you two were acquainted,” Raina said.

“She’s just a sucker for an old man,” he muttered. Charlotte nodded. She’d always had a soft spot for the loner.

“And Sam sometimes does errands for me.” Mailing letters and such in return for cash that enabled him to buy food, she thought,
but she didn’t say that out loud.

He was a proud man few in town bothered to know or understand. But even as a little girl, she’d remembered seeing her mother
reach out to him. Charlotte was saddened, on her return to Yorkshire Falls, to see Sam’s solitary life had stayed the same,
and she’d gone out of her way to help him without directly offering charity.

“Well, now he’s going to watch the punch bowl,” Raina said.

“Freeing you to dance with me.” Rick Chandler appeared on the opposite side of the table, cornering her in front of his mother
with a wink.

The last thing Charlotte needed was time alone with another Chandler man. “As long as I’m being relieved, I think I need some
air.”

“You just got some, didn’t you?” Raina called her on her bluff.

Rick met her gaze. “I need you to bolster my reputation around here. The women are turning me down left and right.” He eyed
her pointedly and she understood he wanted to talk without creating a scene or a distraction. Police business, probably. She
still owed him the list of customers who’d purchased or ordered the handmade panties from her shop.

Better cooperate with Yorkshire Falls’ finest, Charlotte thought. “I think a dance will do me more good than fresh air.”

Rick pushed the table back to make room for her to slip through.

“And that means I can get back to my …” Raina’s voice trailed off and she placed a shaky hand on her heart.

“Mom?” Rick asked.

“I’m okay. It’s just that maybe coming out tonight wasn’t such a good idea. Palpitations.” She glanced away, toward the far
wall. “I’ll just get Eric to sit with me until he can take me home. He’s my …”

“Date,” Rick offered, guiding his arm around his mother’s waist. He shot Charlotte a worried glance, but pasted a smile on
his face, obviously playing it light with his mother. “You can say it. You’re here with your date.”

“I’m here with my doctor.”

“Who’s suddenly paying exclusive attention to one patient?” Rick smiled knowingly at his mother, then gestured across the
room, calling the doctor over.

“It’s like you said, I’m his patient.”

But Charlotte noticed Raina couldn’t meet her son’s gaze.

“Who’s the lucky woman tonight?” Raina asked in an obvious subject change.

“I told you they won’t have anything to do with me.” He winked Charlotte’s way.

“What happened to Donna Sinclair?” his mother asked.

“She only wanted me for my body.”

Raina rolled her eyes and Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh at the byplay, though she too was concerned about Raina’s health.

“Erin Rollins?”

“Last month’s news, Mother.”

“Then maybe you could try cheering up Beth Hansen.”

At the mention of Beth’s name, Charlotte started, then grew concerned. “Why? Isn’t she with David?” Charlotte didn’t expect
Beth and her fiancé here, not when they hadn’t seen each other going on two weeks.

“I haven’t seen Beth but I hear her fiancé’s a no-show and figured she’d need a shoulder,” Raina said. “But that could just
be hearsay.”

Charlotte sighed. “I’ll stop by on my way home and talk to her.”

Raina nodded. “One of you should. Now, Rick, since Charlotte’s taken that job, how about you ask Mary Pinto to dance? She’s
over there by her mother’s wheelchair.”

He shook his head.

“Lisa Burton?” She pointed to the conservative school-teacher standing by the wall.

He sighed. “I can find my own dates, Mom. And I’m here talking with Charlotte now. Are you trying to scare her away?”

“Funny. From what I hear of your brother’s behavior when Charlotte’s near, I thought Charlotte was his concern, not yours.”

Before Charlotte could react, Dr. Fallon came up beside them. He promised Rick he’d sit with Raina until she got her strength
back, and then he’d drive her straight home. He steered Raina away with a firm hand at her back.

Rick stared after them, amused by the new couple, but obviously very concerned about his mother’s health. “She can’t be in
better hands,” Charlotte said.

“I know.”

“Anyone ever tell you you Chandlers are like hurricanes?” she asked, speaking of Raina’s references to Roman.

Rick shook his head. “Not lately, but it’s as good a description as any.”

“I adore your mother, but sometimes she can be …”

“Blunt,” Rick said.

“An admirable trait when aimed at others,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Twice as admirable when she’s accumulating business
for me. It’s just that …”

“She embarrassed you talking about Roman.”

Charlotte nodded. “Before we dance, do you want to make sure your mother’s okay?”

“No. You said it yourself. She couldn’t be in better hands than her doctor’s. So may I have this dance?” He held out his hand.
“You can whisper customer names in my ear.”

She laughed. “Why not?”

He swung her into his arms and onto the dance floor in time for a slow dance. It wasn’t the most orthodox place to discuss
the panty thief. They bumped into many couples on the crowded floor, Pearl and Eldin included. The living-in-sin duo were
slow dancing together, too slow in deference to Eldin’s bad back. Watching them, happy at their age, should have given Charlotte
hope for her own future, but increased her longing for Roman instead.

“Customers, Charlotte,” Rick whispered, bringing them cheek to cheek.

“You’re one smart cop.” She laughed and whispered the needed information in his ear. He had his list of her customers at last.

But the best part of the dance had to be the fact that dancing with Rick had done what Charlotte and her outfit could not.
She finally had Roman’s attention. He was looking their way, a scowl on his handsome face.

If Roman strangled his brother, he’d burn in hell, but it might be worth the sacrifice just to get Rick’s hands off Charlotte’s
bare back.

Roman clenched his fists at his sides, taking in her green leather pants and the handkerchief-style top that wrapped around
her like a sarong and was tied in one knot in the back. One freaking knot that could open with the slightest breeze—or the
nimblest fingers. Damn her for wearing an outfit that chic and suggestive anyway. This was a family event in town hall, not
a New York City singles dance, for God’s sake.

“Yoo-hoo, Roman.” A feminine hand waved in front of his face. Terrie Whitehall. He’d forgotten he was deep in conversation
about the rudeness of patrons to bank tellers. “What?” he asked, never taking his gaze from Charlotte and Rick. The traitor.

“I’m still not sure what I think of her,” Terrie said.

“What you think of who?” Roman had long ago perfected the art of repetition without truly paying attention.

“Charlotte Bronson. You’re staring at her, so who else would I be talking about?”

Caught in the act, Roman forced himself to refocus on the brunette looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What about her?”

“She’s older than I am, mind you …”

“Just a year,” he reminded her.

“Well, she’s never done anything to me. Still, to come home and open up such a
brazen
shop …”

“I was under the impression most of the women, young and old, appreciated the cosmopolitan feel she’s brought to the town.”

“Some women, yes.”

But not the jealous, repressed ones, he thought, taking in Terrie’s severely pulled-back hair, spare makeup, and ruffled blouse
buttoned up to her neck. What the hell had he been thinking, considering her for the mother of his child?

Roman knew darn well what he’d been thinking—that he’d find a woman the distinct opposite of Charlotte in looks. One who worked
nine to five in a respectable job, who could provide him with the intelligent conversation he sought. Okay, so he’d found
conversation. Some of it intelligent, most of it gossip, and too little of it savvy enough to hold his interest.

He’d also wanted to prove to himself that looks weren’t everything—and they weren’t, as long as the woman in question had
a healthy respect for others, their occupations, and dress. This woman looked down her nose at Charlotte’s choices. Scratch
her off his list of wife candidates.

Along with the other half dozen women he’d spoken to or been cornered by tonight. After he’d left Charlotte in her shop, he’d
gone home to take a long, cold shower and mentally distance himself from the one woman he wanted, so he could hit on the women
he didn’t.

Backass logic, but then Roman figured this baby scheme was a backass plan to begin with. He looked across the room and spotted
his mother. Raina was resting in a chair, deep in conversation with Eric Fallon, the family doctor. He hoped his mother hadn’t
exerted herself by coming out to a party so soon after her trip to the hospital.

Someone ought to check on her and have a word with the doctor. He excused himself to Terrie. An idea in mind, Roman walked
up to his brother and, without a word to Charlotte, grabbed Rick by the shoulder. “I think you ought to check on Mom. She
looks kinda pale and she’s been sitting in one place most of the night.”

Rick inclined his head toward Roman. “Check her yourself. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“She doesn’t listen to me. Because I’m not normally around, she thinks I’m fussing too much.” Which was true—as far as it
went. Raina didn’t listen to anyone, all three of her sons included. But if it got his brother’s hands off Charlotte’s back
and waist, Roman would consider the half-truth worth telling.

“Take a hike,” Rick shot back.

“I think Roman’s got a point.”

Charlotte’s soft voice hit Roman in the gut, but he ignored the burning sensation. “If you’re the one who Raina will level
with, go make sure she’s okay,” she said to Rick.

“She’s sitting with her very own doctor, for Pete’s sake.”