The Taming of the Bachelor (11 page)

It was freezing outside and she wasn’t wearing a coat and her teeth were starting to chatter, but she was also starting to get angry. Who was he to call her ridiculous? “Clearly I drank more than I should have,” she said. “It was a mistake from start to finish. I’d just like to move forward, and I’ll do that better if you just go.”

He gave her a long, assessing look, his black brows flat, his golden eyes narrowed. “I didn’t reject you last night, Paige. That’s not what was happening.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“Maybe it’d matter if you were staying in Marietta and we’d have to see each other around town, but you’re not staying, and you’re not planning on returning often, so I think we can safely agree to disagree and pretend last night didn’t happen.”

He said nothing for a moment, simply stared at her as if she was a hysterical female, someone of questionable mental health, and she didn’t like it at all.

He was the problem, not her.

“Goodbye,” she said crisply, standing tall.

“That’s it? That’s how this ends?”

“No. It ended last night. Remember?”

“You’re making something personal—”

“It was personal. It was you, and me, but I don’t want to get into it today. I spent the night thinking about it, trying to understand what I did, or said, that turned you off, and I’m tired of analyzing, tired of worrying. Please just go.” She smiled tightly. “Safe travels, best of luck with Tutro, hope it all works out for you.” And then she was gone, disappearing into the house and closing the door firmly behind her.

D
illon stared at the dark green door with the beveled glass panels in disbelief. That’s it? That’s how this was going to end?

Impossible.

It didn’t make sense. She didn’t make sense. She was acting like a little girl. A spoiled little girl.

Like a....brat.

H
e swore under his breath as he returned to his truck. He was ticked off. Seriously ticked off.

She was lucky she had young kids sleeping in the house, otherwise he would have dragged her inside, put her up against the wall, and kissed her until the ice princess act melted away.

She should be grateful he didn’t take advantage of her last night. Making love to her would have been the easy thing. Walking away had been damn hard.

His temper simmered as he drove down Bramble, heading for the entrance to Highway 89, but he didn’t feel like going back to the ranch. He didn’t feel like driving anywhere.

He was frustrated as all hell and the last thing he wanted to do was drive for thirty minutes.

He’d get coffee. Maybe something to eat. Not at the diner, though. He wasn’t going back there again. He was done with Paige and the diner and drama.

Thank God he was leaving in two days. His only regret was that he wasn’t going for another two days.

Dillon parked in front of the Java Café, and went inside, lining up at the counter to order a black coffee and an egg bagel sandwich.

The café was busy and he took a seat at a small table in the corner and read the Bozeman Daily Chronicle while he waited, and then ate the hot sandwich while pouring over the business section. He was still reading and nursing his second cup of coffee when the glass door swung open, bell jingling, and his brother, Trey, walked in.

“I saw your truck out front,” Trey said, pulling out a chair to sit down at Dillon’s narrow corner table.

Dillon folded his paper into fourths, tucking it away. “What are you doing today?”

“Looking for you.”

“Oh? Everything okay?”

“I think so.” Trey leaned back in the sturdy oak chair. “I hope so. Depends on you.”

“What’s going on?”

Trey drew a breath. “Don’t go hitting on Paige Joffe.”

“
What
?”

“Don’t pull that with me. Everyone knows. Everyone saw you leaving Grey’s together after the auction, and then you were at her house last night, and back again this morning—”

“That’s nobody’s business.”

“She’s got enough going on. She doesn’t need you.”

Dillon ignored this last bit. “And I don’t think you actually mean everyone knows. I think McKenna saw me leave Grey’s Saloon with Paige and then McKenna told you—”

“McKenna wasn’t the only one.”

“But that’s not who brought it to your attention, is it?”

“The point is, you can’t lead Paige on. She’s not one of your sweet young things—”

“She’s not that old.”

“I’m not calling her old, but she’s a woman, in her mid to late thirties. A
mother
—”

“Very aware of that.”

“So be careful. Just keep in mind she’s got two little ones that depend on her. You play games with her and it’ll just mess with her head, and that’s not fair to her, or the kids.”

Dillon gave Trey a long hard look. “Who do you think I am? I’m not an asshole.”

“Never said you were, but she’s McKenna’s best friend—”

“Stay out of this.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” His hands balled into fists. His lower lip curled as he met Trey’s gaze and held it, acknowledging the challenge in his older brother’s eyes. He didn’t care if Trey was the best fighter that had ever come out of Crawford County. He wasn’t afraid of him, and wasn’t going to be intimidated, either. He was bigger than Trey now, bigger than all of them, and maybe he didn’t have Trey’s speed, but he was no slouch in the ring. He could hold his own. Give him something to think about. “And I know more about her than you think, and I’m not trying to get into her pants. I like Paige. I respect her. And the last thing I want to do is hurt her, especially as I’m out of here two days from now.”

Trey continued to stare at him, as if weighing Dillon’s answer against the truth, which only made Dillon angrier.

Tension vibrated between them, the tension humming through Dillon’s veins, throbbing in his head. He needed to walk away now, before he said, or did something he’d regret.

“Changing the subject,” Trey said, “whatever happened with that writer? Sean...Shane...the one from New York who wants to rent the house?”

It was a good move, changing the subject, but Dillon was still upset. “He cancelled out at the last second. We’re trying to reschedule for tomorrow. If we can’t nail it down before I leave, you’ll have to talk to him, see what you think.”

“I’d prefer not to. I’m not a big fan of those metro-sexual literary types.”

“What makes you think he’s metro-sexual? He’s got those crazy bushy mountain man beards.”

“He’s a writer, isn’t he?”

Dillon rolled his eyes. “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Sure I can. So make the meeting work. I’ve no desire to deal with him.”

“If he moves in first of March, you will be the one dealing with him.”

“If he moves in first of March, he’ll learn pretty quickly to stay out of my way.”

“If it’s going to bother you so much, having him there, let’s not rent the house to him. It’s not as if we have to have the money.”

“We don’t
have
to have the money, but it would be nice to purchase some new equipment and take care of some much needed repairs.”

“Then maybe you do want to be cordial when you see him.”

Trey sighed. “You’re worse than a woman.” He pushed back in his chair and then stood. “But if it will help you sleep better, then I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Dillon remained at Java Café a few minutes after Trey left, watching people come and go, even as he thought about what Trey had come to say, and that was for him to stay away from Paige.

Just remembering stirred his temper all over again.

He did not need Trey weighing in. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t the right one for Paige, nor had he ever entertained the idea that he could be the right one. He knew who he was, and what he was and he was nothing if not a realist.

Dillon didn’t want kids. He didn’t want to settle down. He was pretty damn sure even five years from now that he still wouldn’t be the man she’d need. Not long term.

He might satisfy her itch for a night, but beyond that, he wasn’t the man she was looking for and
he
knew it. He might be the youngest Sheenan, but he wasn’t feeble-minded and he didn’t need Trey, the family screw-up, questioning him, doubting his word as if he was the one lacking self-control. Focus.
Integrity.

Such bullshit, especially as Dillon had been the one home with Dad the longest. Dillon was the one who had the least amount of time with Mom. Dillon was the one who’d had to figure out life for himself.

Hell, he’d practically raised himself. Dad wasn’t going to raise him. Dad was a mess.

Jesus, they all were.

And
this
is why he wasn’t going to marry.
This
is why he wasn’t going to have kids. There was no way in hell he’d perpetuate the bloodline. There was enough Sheenan DNA around as it was, what with his brothers’ kids and then his dad shocking them all by adding some half-sisters to the mix after a decades long affair with neighbor, Bev Carrigan.

It was only in December that Dillon had learned Callan Carrigan, his drinking buddy and pool partner at Grey’s Saloon, was actually his
sister
.

Sister.

Two months later, the revelation still shocked him. Thank God he’d never made a move on her. Callan had never been his type, but if he were honest, he had looked her over, checking her out, and remembering how he’d checked out her assets made him shudder. Talk about a weird situation.

So no, life was definitely complicated enough without adding a wife and kids to the mix. He enjoyed female company, but there was no going-to-the-chapel-and-going-to-get-married stuff for him, and the women he dated knew it, which is why he didn’t date chicks with kids.

He didn’t date virgins.

He wasn’t a prince, and he’d never be someone’s hero.

So Trey didn’t need to fret and butt in where he wasn’t wanted, because Dillon wasn’t interested in McKenna’s BFF. Paige might be a hot mom, but she wasn’t on his radar. She wouldn’t ever be on his radar. They’d kissed a bit—

He stopped himself. Frowned.

Okay, it was more than just a bit, it was a lot, and it was hot, but it’s not as if clothes had come all the way off. He hadn’t taken her....

He’d thought about it.

He’d wanted to do it.

It’d taken tremendous self-control not to let it go any further.

It’d taken everything he had to go home last night and not step back inside her house, where there was a bedroom and a bed and a door that could lock.

He’d slept like hell, and woke up kicking himself for not taking advantage of the opportunity she’d given him last night.

He should have gone for it. He should have made love to her.

And because he had regrets and misgivings he went out and bought that damn plunger and took it to her house and instead of a warm welcome, she basically told him to take a hike.

She
was mad at
him
.

In trying to do the right thing, he’d become the bad guy.

J
ust after noon, Paige gave up. She couldn’t get the toilet fixed. She’d tried everything she could think of, had even looked up clogged toilets on YouTube but she couldn’t get the toilet running, not the way it should. Tomorrow she’d have to call a plumber.