From Doctor...to Daddy (2 page)

Dillon's gaze returned to Erika's. “I do have a commitment tonight, don't I?”

Were he and Stacy simply childhood friends? Or did he date more than one woman at a time?

One meal. She could see if he really
was
a regular guy. Or if he was a player like Scott had turned out to be.

“Yes,” she answered, rolling her chair away from her desk. “I'll gather my things and meet you at the Hitching Post.”

Straightening, he nodded. “See you there.”

Erika hoped to high heaven she wouldn't regret getting to know Dr. Dillon Traub just a little better.

 

Erika opened the door to the Hitching Post and stepped inside, troubled by her phone conversation with her mom. When Erika had told her she was having a bite to eat with Dr. Traub, the cold silence had reminded Erika of too many things she'd like to forget.

Erika had assured her, “It's just a bite to eat,” and explained about the emergency with Jeff. Still, her mom's attitude had been more than a little concerned and Erika knew why. After all, her romance with Scott had put them both through the wringer.

At twenty-three, she'd been working as a receptionist in a real-estate office in town. Scott had bought one of the condos at Thunder Canyon Resort and intended to spend his spare time there. She'd spent spare time there with him, believing she was totally in love. He'd been handsome and polished, and she'd fallen for him hook, line and sinker. She should have had a clue when he didn't particularly want to be seen in public with her. But red flags hadn't been on her mind—only the bliss she'd felt in his arms.

She'd never forget the expression on his face when she'd told him…

She sighed, wishing the past could stay in the past. He'd used her and discarded her, and her mother had helped pick up the pieces. Erika would never forget any of it, nor the whispers that she'd been looking for a way up in life…that Scott was her ticket and she was a gold digger.

Since then, she'd made sure her behavior had been impeccable.

But now here she was, having dinner with eligible—and rich—Dillon Traub. Maybe her mother was right to be concerned. Maybe a simple dinner
could
cause more gossip she didn't want to deal with.

The Hitching Post's flavor hit Erika as soon as she stepped inside. There was a beautiful walnut bar to her right, packed with diners jockeying for tables or finishing their happy-hour conversations. When she'd suggested the place to Dillon, she'd forgotten about that painting of Lily Devine above the bar. She'd been painted almost nude, except for a bit of diaphanous cloth. What had Erika been thinking?

She'd been thinking that maybe the beer, peanuts and honky-tonk music would distract her from the chemistry she felt between them.

When she spotted him at a back table, her heartbeats tripped over each other. In his suit, he stood out. Most everyone here was dressed casually. But something about his appearance was different and she suddenly realized what it was. He'd discarded his bolo tie and opened the collar of his shirt. Hot enough in his fine suit, that open collar made him look worldly and, oh, so sexy. Hello. She'd already known she was attracted to him, but now attraction took on a whole new meaning.

She'd have something to eat and be gone.

When she reached the table, he smiled and she
couldn't help but smile back. Although formality was left at the door at the Hitching Post, she was momentarily charmed when Dillon pulled out her chair for her. As he bent to push it in, she caught the scent of his cologne and her heart skipped a beat.

Don't fall for good manners,
she chided herself.
Or chemistry.

After they were both seated, the table for two seeming much too intimate despite the other patrons around them, Dillon said, “The waitress came around but I didn't know what you wanted.” He raised his hand and caught a server's attention.

A redhead with a long ponytail hurried over. “Ready now?” she asked enthusiastically, eyeing Dillon.

Dillon motioned for Erika to go first and she ordered cola with a twist of lime. She needed caffeine for the long night ahead. Dillon ordered soda, too, instead of something with liquor. Then she remembered that he was on call. So much for the see-if-he-likes-beer test.

Country music blared from the jukebox and a few of the patrons had started a line dance. Dillon smiled again. “I never could get the hang of that. I think I have two left feet.”

“But you've tried it?”

“Oh, sure. Country's big in Texas, too.”

She blushed. She should have realized that. “Do you like country?”

“Some. I like jazz, Nickelback and Paul McCartney, too.”

And so the conversation went as they ordered, waited a short time and then enjoyed their meals. Knowing a big meal would make her sleepy and that was the last thing she needed, she ordered a taco salad. But Dillon
dug into his ribs and coleslaw like an enthusiast. His plate was empty before she'd finished.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it down beside his plate. “I've got to admit, the ribs here are good, but D.J.'s are better.”

Dillon's cousin D.J. Traub owned the Rib Shack, located near the lodge. Actually, he not only owned the Rib Shack at the resort, but other Rib Shacks across the U.S. From what she knew of D.J. and his brother, Dax, they hadn't come from wealth. They'd both found their niche and made the most of it. She wasn't going to hide the fact that she knew Dillon was indeed more than a doctor.

“Tell me why you went into medicine,” she requested. “From the rumors I've heard, you could have been CEO of the company your father started.”

He arched a brow, but didn't look upset or annoyed at her question. “There are a ton of reasons why I wasn't the one to manage Traub Oil Industries. My mother took over the business after Dad died. My brother Ethan is the CFO now and he fits the part.”

There was obviously a story there, but Dillon didn't seem about to confide in her. Of course, they didn't know each other all that well, so why would he?

However, he surprised her when he added, “My father died on an oil rig when I was twelve. He took a fall and his injuries were serious. Even as a twelve-year-old, I wondered if I had been a doctor, could I have saved him? That's the reason I went into medicine.”

She was remembering more details she'd heard about Dax and D.J. Traub and didn't know if she was stepping into dangerous territory. But Dillon had opened the door.

“Your cousins—didn't their mom die when they were kids?”

“How I forget the gossip mill in Thunder Canyon,” Dillon remarked with a rueful smile. “No one's history is private. To answer your question—yes. I think that was one of the reasons we were close, even though I only saw them summers when we were growing up. We shared a difficult experience, and I guess it created a bond between us.”

A country ballad began playing on the jukebox. Dillon nodded to the familiar melody. “I think this conversation's gotten a little serious. Would you like to dance? I can slow dance much better than I can line dance.”

She hesitated, knowing she should say no. But the urge to feel like a desirable woman again was strong. “Yes, I would,” she replied.

Before she could rise to her feet, he was behind her chair, helping her up. He definitely was a gentleman…
or
a good pretender.

The dance floor was crowded and that made her feel more comfortable for some reason. No one she knew was in sight.

She had to admit that she'd imagined Dillon holding her. But the real deal was something else entirely. As soon as his arm went around her and his large hand took hers, she knew she was indeed in trouble. He was at least six inches taller than she was—the top of her head just came to his nose. In his arms she could feel the strength of his muscles. Did he work out? At dinner he'd told her he tried to go riding many mornings. To top it all off, at this time of day, his jawline was becoming slightly stubbly. The scruffier look suited him.

When she looked up and her gaze collided with his in
terested brown eyes, nerves in her body tingled—nerves that she didn't even know she had.

Too much…too soon…too fast.

After taking a deep breath, she eased away from him slightly to start another conversation. It was the only way she could distract herself from what was going on in her body, let alone the fantasies in her mind. He didn't try to hold her close, but kept his eyes on hers as she moved away. Those few inches mattered a lot. She could breathe a little easier. And think. What was wrong with her tonight? She'd been so calm and cool-headed ever since Scott.

“You said your mom took over your dad's business,” she began. “I think that's wonderful.”

“Lots of men in the company didn't share your opinion, but she made it clear they either had to come aboard with the program or they'd be gone.”

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“I have four brothers and one sister.”

“Wow! Your mom handled all of you and a career, too?”

His silence told her this wasn't a question he was comfortable with, yet he didn't duck it. “Two years after my dad died, my mom remarried. Peter was working on the rig when my dad fell. He helped her through all of it and they got close.”

His hand ruffled through the waves on her shoulders and she wondered if he did it to distract her. If he did, he was succeeding. “Today's the first time you've worn your hair down,” he noticed.

When she kept it tied back or in a chignon, she felt more professional. But this morning, she'd been running late. “I was a bit rushed this morning so I let nature take its course.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to recall them. Nature. Attraction between a man and a woman was exactly what was going on here. They both knew it.

Dillon's thumb played teasingly against hers. The sensual sensation raised her temperature a couple of notches.

So she tried again with conversation. “Are you planning to spend much time with your cousins, now that you're here again?”

“Back to that, are we?” he asked teasingly.

“I'm just curious. There are so many stories floating around about Dax and D.J., their feud, their fistfight, the women they married. Were you part of all that?”

“No, I wasn't. I was busy establishing my practice.”

Again something that she couldn't decipher passed over his expression.

But he continued, “We did have a family reunion in June and we had a great time.”

“Do they have children?” She shouldn't have asked, but she might as well know where he stood on that subject.

A shadow crossed Dillon's face. “Dax has a six-year-old and a two-year-old. D.J.'s little boy is two, also. I haven't been around them much. But I'm looking forward to some time with them while I'm here.”

Dillon's tone didn't match his words. He was being polite about it.

Erika's blood felt like ice water. All she could think was that he was another man who didn't like responsibility. He was another man who thought fatherhood would be a burden. He was another man who would be a mistake if she saw him again.

What was she doing here with Dillon Traub?

For the rest of the dance, she didn't look him in the eye. She pretended he could be any one of the men on the dance floor—no one special, no one sexy, no one who made her heart beat much too fast.

When the song ended, Erika was relieved, but Dillon didn't let her pull away. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“I just remembered—” No, she wasn't going to make an excuse. She wasn't going to lie to him. “I have to go, Dillon. Thanks for dinner but I do have to go.”

Then she left him standing there, looking puzzled as she walked away. And when she pushed open the door into the cool September air, she didn't look back. Her daughter Emilia came first.

And she would never forget that.

D
illon pulled money from his wallet and flicked it onto the table with his bill. What had gone wrong with Erika?

Just as he asked himself the question, he felt the vibration of his cell phone on his belt. Did someone at the resort need him?

When he pulled the phone from its holder, he checked the screen and smiled. “Hold on a sec, Corey, until I leave the restaurant.”

Outside the door, Dillon took a deep breath, wondering why Erika's leaving had disappointed him so deeply. He didn't even know her. He shouldn't even think about knowing her. He was here for a month, then he'd be gone. Besides that, she had to be twelve or thirteen years younger than he was. Maybe that was the whole problem. She decided she'd rather be out with someone her own age.

Now, however, his mind went to his brother, holding the line from Midland, Texas. “Okay, now I can hear,” Dillon said. “I was at the Hitching Post. You know how noisy that can get.”

Corey laughed, a good old Texas chuckle. At thirty-three and six feet tall, with light brown hair and brown eyes, his brother was the epitome of a Texas male. As a management consultant, he dressed stylishly when he chose to, but he was most at home in his boots and jeans. He'd spent some time with Dillon, their cousins and friends at the Hitching Post in June.

“What were you doing at the Hitching Post?” Corey asked. “Don't tell me you were trying to pick up somebody at happy hour?”

Corey enjoyed women's company and didn't understand why Dillon still didn't date.

He and his brother had always been honest with each other. Although Ethan was between them in age, Corey and Dillon thought more alike on subjects
other
than women and had gotten to be better friends the older they'd grown.

So now when Corey asked, Dillon was honest. “I was here with someone.”

There was a pause as if Corey was thinking about that. “With someone? Like the receptionist you met at the resort this summer?”

“You guessed that
how?
”

“I saw the way you looked at her when she led us to Marshall's office in June. But more than that, I saw the way she looked back.”

“Yeah, well, she's not looking back now. We were having an enjoyable evening, then all of a sudden she froze up and left. I would have appreciated a hint as to what I did wrong.”

“You'll probably never know,” Corey empathized. “I don't understand women any more than you do. They have a language I don't get—a language they want us to learn, yet they don't want to teach it to us.”

After another pause, Dillon asked, “Did you call just to see how things are going here?”

“Partly. Actually I might be in Montana again in November. I'm thinking about staying at the lodge. How do you like it there?”

“It's luxurious. Anything you might need is at your fingertips.”

“But?” Corey asked perceptively.

“But if you're going to stay any length of time, you might want to rent one of the condos. Many of them are empty.”

“Thanks—I'll keep that in mind. So how do you like Marshall's practice?”

“A medical practice like this one could be any doctor's lifelong dream. I can even glimpse elk from the wall of windows in my office.”

“Yet it's not
your
dream?”

“I can't dream anymore, Corey.”

The silence between them was telling and Dillon asked a clipped, “What?”

“You have to let go of the guilt. You'll never be happy again if you don't. For the millionth time, you had no control over Toby's leukemia.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Thoughts of Dillon's four-and-a-half-year-old son who'd died were so bittersweet he usually closed the door on them.

“All right. So let's talk about what you're going to do when your stint for Marshall is up. Are you going to accept that concierge practice in Odessa?”

The doctor who had offered Dillon the position had
put a sweet deal on the table. “I don't know. Taking care of the guests at the resort is a somewhat similar experience. I'm going to see how I like it before I make up my mind.”

“Good idea. The truth is I don't know if I can see you being at the beck and call of patients because they're paying you well for the opportunity to have you as their doctor. It doesn't sound like you.”

“I never thought I'd be here at the resort, taking over for Marshall, either.”

Corey waited a beat before asking, “So you just ran into this receptionist again?”

“Not exactly. Erika's my receptionist now.”

“Ah-hah! The plot thickens. Just how did she come to
be
your receptionist?”

“Grant assigned her. I'm not taking up all her time. It's pretty slow for her most days, but she's the one planning Frontier Days. She's working right outside my office all day, so we interact.”

“I see. And tonight you decided to interact on a personal rather than business level?”

His brother's words brought back the image of him holding Erika in his arms, his hand under her hair, his other hand clasping hers. At first, as they'd danced, she'd been close enough to arouse him. But then she'd needed some space. He got that. They didn't know each other very well. But leaving as she had—

“Ask her,” Corey suggested.

“Ask her what?”

“Ask her why she left. That's what you want to know, right? Maybe she's one of those rare women who will actually tell you the truth.”

His silence was answer enough for Corey.

His brother offered, “Yeah, the Texas Traubs inherited
as much pride as oil money. You know what Mom's always preached—pride comes before the fall. I think that means if you don't give up the pride, you're going to trip over something.”

Purposely changing the subject again, Dillon asked, “Did you attend the family dinner on Sunday?”

“Oh, yeah. Peter was in great form, filling us all in verbatim on the latest board meeting.”

“After all these years, we should realize Peter's not going to change,” Dillon reminded his brother.

When their mother had married Peter Wexler, Dillon hadn't known what to think. At fourteen, he was still grieving for his dad and couldn't imagine another man moving into his father's place. His mother had told them she needed help with six kids and running a business. Peter knew the business from the ground up and she'd teach him what he didn't know.

Dillon had heard the gossip at school as she'd dated Peter, then married him. The grapevine had debated over whether or not he was a gold digger. People assumed the oil-rig foreman would take Claudia Traub's money and leave her high and dry…but first he'd share the good life with her. Since Dillon hadn't been about to accept
anyone
sitting in his father's chair at the table, he'd rebelled big-time. He'd stayed away from Peter as much as he could, making sure he participated in after-school sports, studied someplace other than home and spent summers with his cousins in Montana. He'd told himself constantly he only had to live through four years because then he'd be in college and on his own. He and Peter had settled into a kind of truce, but they'd never become close, never become son and father.

Away from all of it now, Dillon finally answered Corey's question.

“We all have our own lives now. He's always seemed to make Mom happy and that's what's important, right?” Dillon asked, still trying to convince himself.

“I guess,” Corey agreed. After a pensive pause, he asked, “So what are you going to do about Erika?”

“Maybe I'll just do what you said and ask her why she left.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I'll talk to you soon,” Dillon said.

Dillon attached his phone to his belt and strode to his sedan. Did he really want to find out why Erika had left? Why even bother when by the end of September, he'd be gone?

 

Early the next morning, Erika exited the women's locker room at the resort's gym dressed in her tank top, shorts and sneakers. She was a little out of sorts. For some reason, today it had been difficult to drop off Emilia at the neighborhood day care—her little girl hadn't wanted her to leave. Plus, her dinner with Dillon last night had stirred up pre–Scott Spencerman dreams—dreams of vows, shared goals and most of all children who brought such joy to everyday life. Yet Dillon had squashed them with his lack of enthusiasm for children…the dark emotion in his eyes when she'd mentioned his cousin's kids.

Erika stopped short when she spied the object of her thoughts. Last night, Dillon had told her he liked to go horseback riding. But the weather was damp and rainy today, so he must have opted for the workout room instead. She wished she could just walk by him and forget last night had ever happened. But essentially, he was her boss and she couldn't.

He had spotted her, too.

He'd finished with one of the weight stations. Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench, he slung it around his neck.

She swallowed hard. His broad shoulders and slim waist told her he'd always been an athlete. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and navy gym shorts that didn't hide his powerful thigh muscles. There was a dark patch of sweat on his chest and under his arms. His body glistened from his workout, but he didn't seem self-conscious about it, though he wasn't smiling now as they both took a few steps toward each other.

“I didn't expect to see you here this morning,” he commented.

“I come in a few times each week.”

“I thought I'd save my favorite horse a wet, muddy ride.”

She might as well jump into it. “I'm sorry I didn't pay my half of the bill last night. If you'd like—”

“Don't be silly. I asked you to dinner, remember?”

Oh, she remembered. Glancing at his body again, feeling heat creep through hers, she recalled exactly why she'd accepted his invitation.

“Did I say something to make you run off?”

He was direct, that was for sure, and she liked that about him. She liked too many things. “It wasn't you, Dillon. Really.”

“That's hard to believe.”

When she didn't say more, he took another step closer, and now they were within touching distance. “You have circles under your eyes.” He gently touched one of them with his thumb.

Erika trembled and she hoped he couldn't feel it. She'd
never
felt this kind of chemistry before. Taking a shaky breath, she decided just to give him a little bit of
personal information. “I was up late last night studying. I'm taking an online management course. After all, I don't want to be a receptionist forever.”

“So you raced home to study?” He sounded…surprised. Maybe even a little impressed. “Would you like to do something like manage this whole resort someday?”

“Yes, I would. From everything I've seen here, I think I'd enjoy hotel management. I'm hoping that if I do a great job with Frontier Days, I'll be promoted.”

Dillon's gaze passed over her assessingly as if he was taking stock of her appearance and her intelligence, maybe even her age. Her shoulders squared and she knew she raised her chin, wondering what was coming next. Dillon had always been a gentleman, but they were alone here. Scott had taken advantage of any time they were alone to make a move on her.

But Dillon didn't engage in idle flattery, nor did he step closer. He asked, “Do you want to stay in Thunder Canyon or move on?”

“I haven't thought about leaving.” After all, she had a child and a life to make. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you're young, intelligent and beautiful. The whole world is open to you. Have you traveled at all?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe some day, but now I have to make a living and I'm establishing roots. After all, this is where I was born and raised. Don't you feel that way about where you came from?”

He shrugged. “I think a career path can lead away from roots. If you want to become a resort manager, you could end up on a tropical island.”

Maybe he felt as if he'd shared too much personal
information with her last night because he hadn't answered her question. “I can't picture myself leaving Montana. I feel grounded here.” She knew that mostly had to do with her mother and her daughter, but he didn't need to know that. “Have you traveled much?” she asked, curious about his life…curious about what being wealthy meant.

“I traveled before college, backpacked through Europe that summer.”

“Your parents let you do that when you were so young?”

“Let's just say I was a responsible eighteen-year-old, and at eighteen my mother and stepfather couldn't really stop me. I needed to get away and that was the way I chose to do it.”

“I bet they worried about you the whole time you were gone.”

“My mother was busy managing my father's company. Her marriage to my stepfather was still fairly new. I didn't feel they'd miss me.”

“But they did.”

“I could tell my mother did by the way her face lit up and she hugged me when I got home. What about your parents? Do they live in Thunder Canyon?”

This was territory where she didn't want to go, but she took a few footsteps in. “My mother does. She's an elementary school teacher. But my father left when I was five and we never saw him again.”

“I'm sorry,” Dillon said sincerely. “I know how hard it is to lose a parent, no matter how that happens.”

She wanted to touch him now, the same way he had touched her. She longed to slip her fingers through the wave of hair on his forehead, or touch the line of his jaw
that seemed so strong and determined. But she knew she should do neither. She knew she should back away.

She actually did take a step back. “I have to start my workout so I can get to the office on time.”