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Finally Mikala admitted, “My last relationship proved it.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I haven’t forgotten it.”
“That’s the problem. Maybe Dawson can help you forget about it.”
“Don’t go there,” Mikala warned.
Celeste just shrugged and sipped her tea.
That evening Mikala stood at the door to Dawson’s suite, not knowing whether she should be angry at her aunt or just amused by her. Mikala had had an early evening session and had come in to find her aunt putting together a dinner platter. She’d made sloppy joes, oven-baked potatoes and some kind of broccoli casserole with cheese. She’d handed the platter to Mikala and said, “Why don’t you take this up to Dawson? He’ll probably be glad not to have to go out again.”
“Aunt Anna—” Mikala wanted to start a conversation about why her aunt was doing this.
But always intuitive where her niece was concerned, her aunt had just patted her on the shoulder and said, “It’s just a friendly gesture, Mikala. Go on before it gets cold.”
Her aunt had done so much for her, Mikala couldn’t refuse her anything.
From the hall she spotted light under Dawson’s door and knocked lightly. But Dawson didn’t answer.
Go away, or not go away? The food on the plate was warm but wouldn’t stay that way long.
Since the door was slightly ajar—She wasn’t going to go inside unless he was right there.
Pushing the door open a little more, she saw Dawson was right there, stretched out on the sofa on his side, fast asleep. He was too tall for the couch. His head looked as if it was in an uncomfortable position on the sofa’s arm and he’d hunched a throw pillow under his shoulder. With his shoes off, he barely fit. She remembered what she’d thought when she’d first seen him at the reunion. He was a multimillionaire, the CEO of his own company, confident, charismatic, sexy. Now as she studied him, she saw a bit of the vulnerability he wanted no one to see, a hint of the boy she’d once known.
As if he could hear her thoughts, he opened his eyes and spotted her.
She felt as if she’d been doing something wrong. “Your door was open,” she said quickly. “Aunt Anna thought you’d like dinner. It’s hot, so I didn’t want to just take it back to the kitchen. I thought maybe you were watching TV and didn’t hear my knock.”
He levered himself up, ran his hand through his hair and motioned to the laptop on the coffee table. “I took some calls and worked for a while. Then I thought I’d just close my eyes for a couple of minutes before I got back to it.”
Crossing to the sofa, she sat down beside him, setting the food on the coffee table. She imagined he’d had lots of sleepless nights in the past few weeks, lots of days filled with worry and stress about Luke along with what he was going to do about his business, his work, and a new life in Miners Bluff.
“Maybe some food will get the juices flowing again.”
As soon as those words came out of her mouth, she knew she should have watched what she said more carefully. His eyes went deeper green with a simmering intensity she’d seen there before.
Yet he didn’t comment, just eyed the platter appreciatively. “Your aunt knows the way to a man’s heart. Her kindness is limitless.” He paused, thought about what he was going to say, and then obviously decided to say it. “I see that same kindness in you.”
For the second time in one day, she felt heat come to her cheeks. She never blushed. “Thank you. Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.” She would have risen to her feet, but he held her arm and she stayed where she was.
“Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’re helping to make this transition easier. I called Dad when I came up here.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And … Luke is giving him all the reasons why he should stay with him instead of moving up here with me.”
“Oh, Dawson, that has to be so hard to hear.”
“I wouldn’t know. Luke won’t talk to me. What happens if he gets here and barricades himself in his room like he does at home?”
“I really don’t think that will happen. At least, not all of the time. We’ll have surprise on our side.”
“Surprise?”
She counted on children’s curiosity a lot of the time whether it was to try something new or just to coax them to talk. “He doesn’t know Anna and he doesn’t know me. Even the weather’s different here. Who can resist looking up to Moonshadow Mountain and Feather Peak? There will be plenty of things to interest him, and lots of people who can get through to him. His natural curiosity will help, too. I know things seem bad right now, but try to stay optimistic. Try to see all the things that will connect you to Luke rather than tear him away.”
Dawson was looking at her differently than he ever had before. She’d caught a glimpse of desire the night of the prom and the night of the reunion. But now, there was something behind that desire. Emotion? Feeling for her and a past they’d shared? That’s what caught her in its trap. That’s what took her by surprise. That’s what helped good sense flee and made “the moment” become all-important. As an adult the moment had never been all-important for her. She always analyzed the consequences. But Dawson kickstarted a passion she didn’t even know she possessed, without even a touch or a word or a kiss.
Suddenly he was murmuring, “Mikala, you’ve always been special to me. I always wondered what might have happened if I hadn’t left Miners Bluff.”
“What do you think would have happened?” she whispered, knowing this moment was important, not wanting to shatter it.
His hand went to the nape of her neck. “I think we would have dated. We might have gotten close.” He tipped her lips up to his. “And maybe …”
As Dawson’s mouth took possession of hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and fell into the scent and feel of him. The kiss started slowly, like a wonderful melody that kept on playing. Then it changed verses as it increased in intensity, meandering into the refrain and began all over again. She’d always wondered what kissing Dawson would feel like. It was a symphony she never wanted to stop, a haunting ballad that reached down into her heart, making her feel emotions she’d never let surface.
Sudden need rose in her, sending fire into every part of her body. She didn’t even know the woman who was responding to the touch of his tongue … to the angle of his lips … to the deepening of their passion that left her totally without breath. She ran her hand through his thick, tawny hair. As his hands stroked up and down her back, she trembled.
Suddenly everything stopped—the new melody, the riot of sensations, the rippling adventure of wanting and being wanted in return.
He pulled away with a ragged oath and started shaking his head. “I never expected—” He stopped.
She didn’t give him a chance to say more. Somehow she managed to pull herself together, put distance between them and pretend she was perfectly all right.
“Enjoy your dinner,” she murmured as she fled to the door.
He called out to her, but she ignored him as she ran down the stairs, putting the moment behind her once and for all.
She hoped.
Chapter Three
Almost two weeks later Mikala watched Dawson and Luke carry their belongings into the Purple Pansy. Luke looked like his dad—same color hair and eyes, same jaw that would become more defined like Dawson’s as he got older.
She could already sense the tension between father and son. It was obvious that communication was almost null and void between them.
Since Dawson had left, she’d tried to forget about the kiss, and their awkward goodbye the next morning. Now, as she watched Luke and Dawson interact—or rather not interact—she knew she had her work cut out for her on all fronts, both personal as well as professional.
Aunt Anna stood at the counter, adding peas to the slow cooker as Dawson and Luke entered the kitchen once more, ready to return to the SUV for another load. She introduced herself to Luke and asked, “What do you think of vegetable soup for supper?”
His gaze glanced from hers to Mikala’s to his dad’s. Finally he shrugged.
But Anna was having none of that. “You’ve got to tell me what you like and don’t like. If you don’t like vegetable soup, say so.”
The ten-year-old pushed his blond-brown hair from his forehead, then shrugged again. “It’s okay, I guess. I like burgers better.”
“Of course you do,” Anna agreed with a smile. “But burgers every night aren’t healthy. I’ll make you one, though, if you promise to have some soup, too.”
Dawson interrupted. “You don’t have to make anything special. You don’t have to make anything at all. We can go out to eat.”
“Nonsense!” Anna swished her hand dismissively. Then she took the cookie jar from the counter and opened the lid, holding it out to Luke. “Homemade biscotti. There’s chocolate milk in the refrigerator if you’re interested.”
Mikala went over to a cupboard, opened it and removed a glass. “Just so you know, the glasses are in this cupboard. While you’re here, you’re welcome to make yourself at home.”
He took the glass Mikala offered, said “Thanks” and went to the refrigerator. He easily found the chocolate milk and poured himself some.
Dawson hovered, and to get him to stop, Mikala suggested, “I’ll help you bring in the rest of your things.”
“I can get it,” he began, but then caught her glance and understood. “Right.”
They were no sooner out the door when he blew out a breath. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but still … he wouldn’t talk to me the whole drive here.”
“Each day isn’t going to be the end of something, Dawson. Like you said, hopefully moving here will be the beginning. Try to remember that.”
He stopped. “Are you preaching the value of optimism? Because I’ve tried to be optimistic over the past year. It hasn’t worked out very well.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
His defensiveness dissipated. “Sorry. Being cooped up in a car for three hours with a sulking ten-year-old kind of frayed my edges.”
“Aunt Anna will work her magic. Come on, let’s see what else you have to bring in.”
At the SUV, Mikala went around to the back and reached for a very expensive suitcase. She could tell by the designer logo.
“Hold on.” Dawson took it from her before she could lift it to the ground. “That’s pretty heavy. I’ll get it.”
She flexed her arm. “I guess you haven’t seen my muscles,” she joked.
Finally he broke into a smile. His fingers surrounded her upper arm and he squeezed gently. It was supposed to be a playful touch. She knew that. But it wasn’t so playful as she looked up into his eyes.
He removed his fingers and kidded, “Yep, there are muscles there. But I’ll still carry the suitcase.”
“Chivalry must be alive and well.” She grabbed a duffel bag and a basketball. “I guess a backboard’s in Luke’s future.”
“Maybe just mine. Anything I’m interested in, doesn’t interest him.”
“Have you asked him why?”
“Does it snow on Feather Peak?” After she arched a brow at him, he ran his hand through his hair.
“If I seem defensive, it’s because I am. That kiss when I was here last—” He stopped, obviously frustrated with himself because it had happened. “I see our move here and Luke’s therapy as a real chance to put everything right. I want to give him a more ordinary life without full security house alarms, gated communities, private schools. I guess I’m trying to leave ‘rich’ behind. I don’t want to throw a new life off track. I feel like I’ve failed him up till now. I wasn’t the greatest dad. Now he’s lost his mom and I’ll never be able to make up for that.”
“You’re right.” She couldn’t tell Dawson he wasn’t. But she also couldn’t let him take on a responsibility that could be too heavy for anyone. “You don’t have to make up for Kelly dying, and you can’t. You just need to be there for Luke.”
Dawson mulled that over as he picked up the suitcase as if it weighed nothing at all and they began walking toward the bed-and-breakfast again. When they reached the porch, he asked, “When will you start therapy with him?”
“Actually I want you to start therapy with him.”
He set the suitcase on the porch floor. “What do you mean?”
“If you and Luke go up to your suite, what’s going to happen?”
“He’ll probably go into his bedroom and shut the door.”
“Exactly. So instead, surprise him. Why don’t you take him into town and show him around? Point out where you lived, where you went to school and anything else that’s meaningful to you and could be meaningful to him. After you return, I’ll talk to him. Not a formal therapy session, but a get-to-know-you session. Maybe it will help him feel more confident about attending a new school, which is a big adjustment. We can both help him ease into it.”
Dawson stared up at the winter blue sky, at the pine forests that fringed so much of Miners Bluff. “And if he doesn’t say a word to me in the SUV?”
“He doesn’t have to. Just talk to him. Let the memories come … and whatever emotions come with them.”
“Coming back here and remembering could be painful. The idea of it makes me feel … vulnerable. I haven’t been vulnerable to anyone in a very long time.”
She could empathize. True intimacy demanded vulnerability and she was afraid of letting her guard down as much as anyone. “Nothing’s going to happen overnight, or in one ride around town. But if you can just share one memory with him from childhood—something that affected your life in some way—and he hears the truth in that, he might look at you differently.” Her tone took on a lighter note. “He might actually see that you’re not just his dad, you’re a person.”
“If you want Luke to see me as a person, we really have a lot of work to do.”
She laughed.
Dawson looked as if he wanted to give her a hug … or something. Instead he lifted the suitcase again, opened the door and headed into the kitchen where the biscotti jar and chocolate milk had brought back memories of their teenage years around that kitchen table. Maybe Dawson and Luke weren’t the only ones who would have to let a few walls down. Mikala’s biggest problem would be separating the personal from the professional.
But she could and would do that. She really had no choice. And while she was doing it, she would not think about Dawson’s kiss.
An hour later Dawson and Luke both stood in Mikala’s studio looking uncomfortable. If that was any indication of how their drive had gone …
“Luke, why don’t you go into the music room and make yourself at home. I just have to talk to your dad for a few minutes and then I’ll be in.”
Luke gave them both an I-don’t-want-to-do-this look, but wandered into the music room and went over to the bench at the piano. Mikala wasn’t surprised. That’s where he probably felt the most comfortable.
She said to Dawson, “Let’s step outside a minute. I don’t want to leave him too long.”
They were hardly on the stoop of the studio when Dawson said with some disappointment, “He didn’t say a word. I was hoping … We drove downtown around the park and I tried to explain the celebrations held there. You know. The happy times I remembered. Then I took him past our old house—my old house.”
She knew Dawson needed some of this return-to-the-past as much as Luke did, so she asked, “How did it look?”
“Different, yet the same. New shutters, beige trim instead of white, brown roof instead of red. But the yard … I remembered practicing my pitching in that yard. Tossing baskets at the backboard on the garage. Then the garage reminded me of the weeks I worked on my first car in there. I tried to share all that with Luke, but he just sat there as if nothing I said mattered.”
“He heard you, Dawson.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m sure because I can tell from Luke’s comments and his facial expressions and his body language that he hears what everybody’s saying. He’s in culture shock right now. You’ve moved him from the only home he knows. Give him time to settle in. Give yourself time, too.”
