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“I changed my mind,” the older man said. “I want some lasagna. And I’ve reached the age where I should certainly have what I want. Hellfire, Dane, I might die in my sleep tonight, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Alva’s ruffled feathers didn’t fool Dane. He knew what the man was up to.
One of his eyebrows arched high as he accused, “So, you’re just going to leave me here in the clutches of an encyclopedia salesman?”
The delighted sound Alva emitted could almost have been described as a wicked cackle. “Saleswoman, don’t you mean, boy?” He paused long enough to grin. “You should buy yourself a set of books. A little reading never hurt any man.”
Dane only shook his head at his father-in-law’s antics.
Then Alva’s knowing gaze sobered. “But she ain’t selling anything, is she?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, eyeing the door of Dane’s house. “The two of you looked…familiar sitting on the porch together as I drove up.”
“Familiar?” Dane’s forehead knitted. “That’s a strange word to use.”
Alva shrugged. “You do know her, though, don’t you?”
“Sort of,” he had to admit. “We went to the same college together. But that was a lifetime ago.”
“So the two of you have plenty of catching up to do,” Alva surmised. “You don’t need me hanging around. And it’s getting late. Be a gentleman. Invite the little lady to dinner. She can have my steak.”
“You don’t need to do this—”
“I told you,” the old man interrupted Dane’s protest, his grumpy tone back full force, “I feel like having Lottie’s lasagna tonight.”
Dane only shook his head. There was no changing the man’s mind once it was set. “Well, I hope you’ve got some antacid tablets in your medicine chest. You’re going to need them later.”
“Aw, now, you know my stomach is clad in iron.”
“You’re gonna wish it was,” Dane quipped as he stepped back from the truck.
More laughter rumbled from Alva. “You have fun chattering about old times.”
The truck tires kicked up grit and pebbles as he pulled off down the lane.
Hunger pangs pinched Dane’s stomach and he turned back toward his home. In that instant, Lacy opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.
“It’s got to be close to your dinnertime,” she called to him. “Let’s go into town and find something to eat.” Then she added, “It’ll be on me.”
Her tone made him pause. That coaxing quality in her voice was enough to lead him to believe she was up to something. But that thought was pretty silly. He didn’t even know Lacy Rivers. And she sure didn’t know him. They hadn’t seen each other in years and years. If she was up to anything, he sure was stumped over figuring out what it could possibly be.
“Maybe she does want you to buy some encyclopedias.” He murmured the words under his breath as he started toward her, doing his best to contain the humorous grin that the idea churned up.
“Pardon?”
He did chuckle then, taking the stairs two at a time. “I said, you don’t have to buy dinner. Besides, there isn’t a decent meal to be had in Oak Flat.”
“It is a small town, isn’t it?” she commented. “As I drove through, I noticed a diner, a post office, a small grocery store and a church. Not much else.”
“Sounds like you won’t be needing the grand tour. You already took it.”
“Hmm…I was hoping to find a hotel…”
He was vaguely aware of the concern shadowing her expression, but something more urgent called his attention.
What was that scent? An enticing, exotic aroma he couldn’t put a name to. But whatever it was, it had his blood pounding. He swiveled his head, inhaling slowly, deeply, and he realized the perfume was floating on the air around Lacy. The sensuous fragrance made his gut tighten.
The sensation overtaking him was so…odd. He drove agitated fingers through his hair.
“I am hungry,” he admitted, louder than he’d meant, wanting to focus on something—anything—other than her…other than the stirring and utterly unique scent of her. “I’ve got steaks for the grill, if you’d like to stay for dinner.” He eyed her warily. “You’re not vegetarian, are you?”
She grinned, and the dimple that formed in her left cheek caused a whirlwind of memories to buffet his mind. He remembered that sexy dimple. How he’d liked to make her smile just so he could see it. He remembered other things, too. The conversations they’d shared, filled with interest and fun. The utterly spontaneous laughter. The serious debates. That kiss…
He shoved the dangerous thoughts from him.
“I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of girl.”
“Good,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of that around here. Let me fire up the coals, and while they’re burning to embers, I’ll grab a quick shower. Then, over dinner, you can tell me what brings you to Oak Flat.”
Before too long he left Lacy Rivers in the kitchen washing the fresh greens that would make the salad she’d insisted on helping with.
In the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and turned on the shower. Full blast.
Memories bombarded his brain. The indecision he’d suffered. The worry. The temptation. The sleepless nights he’d spent praying for resolve. The fear that he wouldn’t have the strength to do the right thing. But in the end he had. He’d succeeded in putting his own frivolous and selfish desires aside.
But Lacy had come back into his life. And as the cool water sluiced down his body, he couldn’t help but conclude that he was once again experiencing the same reaction—or should he say the same uncontrollable attraction—he’d had to this woman all those years ago.
Chapter Two
The steak had been grilled to perfection. The baked potato was light and fluffy, drizzled with the perfect amount of rich butter. The salad was crisp and cool, the homemade balsamic vinaigrette making it utterly…perfect.
And so was Dane Buchanan. Just as perfect as she had recalled him being.
During her drive to Oak Flat, Lacy had worried that her memory of the man might somehow have been glorified by the passing years, that she’d made him larger than life in her mind. But she’d discovered over dinner that he was as honest, intelligent, hardworking and down-to-earth as she remembered. And there simply wasn’t a more perfect physical specimen of a man to be found, she was sure.
His face was leaner, more honed than she remembered. The smile lines bracketing his mouth, fanning out from his eyes, gave him a remarkable appeal even her wildest imaginings had failed to conjure. His thick thatch of coal-black hair was shiny and Lacy found herself wanting to comb her fingers through the hints of silver at his temples. The years had transformed him physically into quite a man. Quite a man, indeed.
But what hadn’t changed one iota were his eyes. She’d been fascinated by his smoky-gray gaze twenty years ago. Enthralled by the curiosity that had danced there, the vigorous light that flashed and caught her up in the energy that had seemed to pulse from him back then.
Those sooty orbs still ignited with uncontainable liveliness as she coerced him to tell her about his day-to-day life breeding and raising Angus cattle. He had a wonderful way of expressing the joy he found in what seemed the most mundane of chores. And she found herself just as swept away by him, just as mesmerized by his joie de vivre now as she had been when they’d attended college together. She listened in wonder as he described the spring calving season and all the sleepless anxiety and miracle of new life that came with it. And summer hay cultivation had kept him busy from sunup to sundown until just recently. He made the mowing, raking and baling sound almost fun, although she imagined it had to be hot, rigorous work.
A couple of times he’d tried to inquire about the reason behind her arrival, but she’d successfully parried his questions. She wasn’t quite ready to blurt out her motivation for coming to see him. Not just yet.
Not only did she feel unprepared, but she also continued to be overwhelmed with desperation. The feeling kept rolling over her in a wavelike fashion. The anxiety welling in her brought a dread she wasn’t used to. She was a successful businesswoman. And she hadn’t gotten that way feeling apprehensive or fearful. She’d landed at the top by identifying terrific opportunities when they presented themselves…and by taking full advantage of those opportunities.
Dane Buchanan was the opportunity of a lifetime, in her estimation. But she couldn’t allow this chance to slip from her grasp by shocking him with her request too soon. She needed to ease into this. Garnering his trust, renewing their friendship, had to come first. She had every intention of doing this right.
The other men she’d approached about fathering a child for her had been people she had known as friends, or through friends or her business. And those associations had helped her to make her plea, given her an opening, a place to start. But the connection she had with Dane was twenty years old. And she didn’t even know how well he remembered their times together. How would the poor man react to having some stranger from his past marching into his home out of the blue, asking him for a sample of his sperm?
If she couldn’t fathom the scenario herself, how in the world would he?
She needed to take her time. Ease into this.
However, the words that would incite his sympathy in her plight as well as obtain his help had better come to her. Fast. Because, her mind warned, you don’t have a whole lot in the way of time. You can only stall the man for so long.
And as proof that the thought was nothing but dead on, he chose that moment to lean toward her, level a direct gaze on her face and ask, “So what was it that made you look me up after all these years, Lacy?”
Renewed panic swelled inside her. Frantically, she did what she could to tamp it down. But she could do nothing to quell the deep maternal yearning that plagued her soul. Her success here was more important to her than any business venture she’d ever strived for, any success she’d ever achieved.
Lacy literally blanched at the thought. She knew how intense, how terribly profound, her longing was to become a mother…to birth, to hold, to care for, to raise, to love a child of her own. She’d described it to her friends as being marrow-deep. But the fear pulsing through her at this moment, the chill the thought of failure brought, made her recognize that filling this hole in her, satisfying her mothering instinct, was more important than anything she’d ever needed or done or accomplished in her whole life. In that instant, she realized she’d never be complete without a child.
She also realized the extreme anguish she faced…if Dane were to refuse her request.
His gray gaze had darkened with concern as he reached across the table, his work-roughened palm warm, almost comforting, as it slid over top her hand.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve gone quite pale.”
The physical contact made her blink, and she forced her eyes to remain open as she battled the wave upon wave of energy that coursed up her arm—over every inch of her skin—as her body reacted to his touch.
Her lips were cottony dry, and she moistened them. She had no idea how long she’d been silent…or how long she’d been wrapped up in her own desperation.
“I’m all right.” She picked up her glass of water, noticing the slight tremble of her fingers, and took a gulp. “You must think I’m crazy,” she said after setting down the glass. “Coming here unannounced. After so much time.”
“I don’t think that at all.” He relaxed against the back of the kitchen chair. “I will admit to being curious. I mean, it has been a lot of years.”
She paused a moment, her mind going completely blank. How could she ever explain herself to him? He was going to hear what she had in mind, and he’d go screaming and running into the night. When they had sat down at the table to eat, rain had begun to ping against the kitchen windowpane, but Lacy doubted the weather would stop the man from fleeing the situation should he decide to do so.
Dane was sure to react adversely to her idea. All the other men had, hadn’t they?
She wanted to give herself a swift kick. She wouldn’t get anywhere thinking such negative thoughts.
With her eyes glued to the window, she murmured, “You see, I’ve been searching for the perfect man—”
His loud groan cut her words to the quick.
“You’re not a journalist, are you?” he asked, suspicion varnishing his tone until it was sharp and burnished. “Twice over the years, I’ve had reporters hunt me down about that stupid article that was written about me during college. And I don’t mind telling you, both times I’ve refused to be interviewed.”
The subject of their conversation had twisted out of shape so suddenly that Lacy was taken off guard.
“No,” she assured him. “I’m not here to do a story on you.”
He looked visibly relieved. “That whole thing was such a crock. I can’t believe that idiot reporter printed that story back then.” Almost to himself, he said, “That silly article nearly kept Helen from marrying me.”
“Well, I thought it was a wonderful article,” Lacy told him. She couldn’t have stopped the words from tumbling off her tongue even if she’d wanted to. “Very flattering.”
“Too flattering,” he spat out. “The adulation was so overdone that the whole piece bordered on obsequious. It was downright obnoxious with its sugary depiction of me and my life. If I’d have been diabetic, I’d have gone into insulin shock.”
The venom that oozed from his words, his expression, his whole body stance, took her completely by surprise. Although she couldn’t say why, his strong reaction annoyed her.
“But it was all true, wasn’t it?” She blurted out the question, sure that she knew the answer already. “Every fact in that article was correct.”
He refused to relent. “Come on, Lacy. The Perfect Man? No one is perfect. Especially me.” His face screwed up as if he’d bit into something bitter. “The whole mess made me look damn pompous. I was relieved that the magazine hit the stands so late in the school year. I was never so glad to be away from a place as I was that university. That town. I’m not a conceited person, Lacy. And I hated being made to look like one.”
She fingered the linen napkin draped across her lap. “It never dawned on me that you might feel that way about it. In fact, all these years I never imagined that you’d be anything but proud of the title.”
Dane shook his head. “You have no idea how that title nearly ruined all my plans.”
As soon as Lacy heard the statement, she remembered how, when she’d made her final blatant attempt to encourage him to ask her out, he’d stressed to her his intent to carry out a certain plan he had for his life. She’d wondered about it at the time, but he’d kept his statements vague and she never did discover exactly what that plan involved.
“I arrived home after graduation,” he continued, “to find my fiancée waving that magazine at me and insisting that our getting married was a mistake. It took me six months to convince Helen otherwise.” Under his breath he added, “I’ve never been a violent man, but if that reporter had been within reach, I’d have beaten the daylights out of him more than once.”
“You were engaged back then?” Surprise was evident in her tone, and she was terribly relieved that it masked the hurt that welled up in her.
His gray eyes averted from her face as he nodded silently, awkwardness seeming to settle on his broad shoulders.
The news was like a bolt from the blue—a bolt that burned and ripped at the very heart of her. “When you took me out? When we…”
Kissed was the word teetering on her tongue, but it petered out before actually forming. She felt stunned. Wounded.
“No.” His answer was emphatic, his gaze conveying a steeling assurance as he shook his head. “Not when I took you out. But directly after.”
For a moment, he looked as if he had more to say on the subject. But the moment passed, and he remained silent.
She remembered his disappearance after their date, surmised that this had been the time when their paths had veered from one another. What she’d wanted to do was ask, once he’d returned to campus, why he hadn’t told her that he’d been spoken for. That he was in love with another woman. No wonder he hadn’t nibbled any of the bait she’d tossed out at him. He’d been a fish that had already been caught. She felt embarrassed by the way she’d practically thrown herself at him all those years ago.
His words sunk into the chaos of her thoughts. It took me six months to convince Helen….
Why a man like Dane Buchanan would have to convince a woman to marry him was beyond Lacy.
“So we’ve ruled out the profession of writer,” he said, reaching up to lazily scratch a spot on his chin. “What do you do for a living? You were such a go-getter, I knew you’d reach the top of whatever ladder you chose to climb.”
She thanked her lucky stars that he seemed to have forgotten his original question regarding the purpose behind her showing up on his doorstep. Being no fool, she jumped on his question with both feet.
“I own an Internet consulting business,” she told him. “Lacy Webs. We snare customers for you.” She grinned as she recited the familiar words. “Our jingle. And, of course, our logo depicts a tiny spider in a frilly web.”
He nodded, his eyes lighting with sincere interest.
“I worked for a computer firm for a few years. Then, I started building Internet sites for friends on the World Wide Web.” She reached up and toyed with her small diamond stud earring. Finally, she shrugged. “My business just took off. Before I knew it, I had landed my first corporate account. My parttime, ‘for fun’ job turned into an instant career. I create commercial sites. For businesses offering services or selling merchandise online. Bank sites have sort of become my specialty. Although I’ve had my fingers in everything—hospitals, universities, retail chains. You name it.” Her smile brimmed with satisfaction. “I’ve got more clients than I can handle, and I’ve been forced to increase my staff every year for the past five years. It’s been great.”
“Well, that’s wonderful,” he said, his words soft and genuine. “Like I said, I knew you’d go far. In whatever field you chose. I just knew it.”
His praise made her flush with delight.
The reaction was funny, really. As well as surprising. She’d never felt the need for someone else’s approval or admiration. Knowing her business was a success, and that she’d walked every step of the way on her own, that had always been enough for her. It might be silly, but hearing his good opinion of her made her feel, well, it made her feel…worthy.
The commendation he gave her not only felt nice, it revealed something to her as well. He’d thought about her. Maybe not often, but she’d been on his mind enough for him to decide these things about her. That idea thrilled the dickens out of her!
