After the Dawn (20 page)

“No, that won't be necessary.” She smiled to ease the worry in his face. “I must have had a senior moment.”

He tsked. “Not likely. You're too beautiful and too vibrant for that to happen. You probably just need to eat.”

“I'll let you go, then. Bye, Marlene. Hope you feel better,” Anna said, her voice sounding a bit odd.

“I'm not so hungry that I can't introduce one of my best friends.” Marlene caught Anna's arm as she started to pass, surprised to find it rigid. The other woman looked up. Marlene saw the hurt slowly fade from her pretty face. Anna had had a bad reputation as an easy party girl before she married when she was five months pregnant.

Some of the people in town refused to let the past remain in the past. She'd had it rough, and still did, since her husband abandoned her and their daughter a year after they were married. She was a good woman who had made mistakes just like every adult. Marlene never wanted her to think that she thought differently.

“Roman, I'd like you to meet Anna Douglas and her beautiful daughter, April. Anna, this is Roman—”

“Santiago,” Anna finished with her usual bright smile, extending her slim hand. “Mr. Santiago, you probably don't know the women at the plant are keeping track of sightings of you. We actually have the haves and the have-nots.”

Smiling, Roman accepted the hand. “Please to meet you, Mrs. Douglas.” He bent down to shake April's hand as well. The friendly child giggled. Straightening, he said, “Probably because I'm the newest employee.”

“And…” Anna drew out the word. “You might have other attributes worth checking out.” She switched her attention to Marlene. “See you next week at the book club meeting. Come on, scamp. Let's go home.”

“Bye, Anna, April,” Marlene called, watching the two head to a beat-up Ford and get in. The engine caught. The soft rumble of a well-tuned car vibrated across the parking lot.

“There are some horses beneath that hood,” Roman said as Anna pulled off with a wave.

Marlene smiled with pleasure. “I tuned it myself.”

Roman stopped, picked up her hands, then lifted his gaze to hers. “And they're still soft and lovely. Like I first thought, you're an amazing woman.”

“I think I'm finally glad you think so.”

“Marlene.” He breathed her name, his head lowering, his intent obvious.

It took all of her willpower to step back. “Ah, maybe we should go on in.”

He blew out a breath. “You make me want you and forget where I am. A dangerous combination, and one I intend to thoroughly enjoy.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Let's go have dinner. Some things shouldn't be rushed.”

 

Eleven

Samantha slid into the open-ended booth with her cherry Coke. Dillon hadn't liked it, but she'd paid for her own food. It had been important to establish that this was not a date. But, man, did he look good in jeans and a chambray shirt. She wasn't the only woman who thought so. The woman behind the counter could hardly take her order for looking at Dillon. He'd just grinned. Sam had wanted to kick him.

Finished with his order, Dillon started toward the booth she sat in. Samantha didn't have to look around to know he commanded the attention of every woman in the room—with or without a man. A woman would be crazy to think she could keep the attention of a man who oozed sex appeal the way he did.

Instead of sitting across from her, he bent to slide in beside her. Samantha's eyes widened. It was move or have him sit on top of her.

“You're crowding me.”

“Then scoot over.” His hip touched hers, and she quickly complied.

Heat and a strange longing to touch him washed over her. “Why didn't you sit on the other side of the booth?” Each side easily accommodated three people.

“It should be obvious.” He put his lips on the straw of his Coke.

Samantha couldn't help but think of his mouth on hers, him sucking on her tongue. Desire rocked through her. How could her body betray her this way? “Well, it isn't.”

“I can see Tracy when she calls out our orders.” Crossing his long legs, he slouched down on the bench.

“You know her?”

His grin was pure devilment. “She told me her name.”

Samantha had the urge to kick him again or pour her drink over his head to cool him off. Since she needed cooling, she took a long suck on her straw. She felt his gaze on her and looked over. Hot craving stared back at her.

“Numbers twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”

“I—I think she called our numbers,” Samantha said, glad she could form a coherent sentence when all she wanted to do was crawl in his lap and take the kiss her body craved.

“Numbers twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”

“Maybe you should get them.” Dillon took the top off his drink and gulped.

Heat climbed up her neck as the reason dawned for his not wanting to get up. She scooted out of the booth and went to get their food. When she returned, she sat on the other side of the booth. However, as soon as she looked up and their gazes met, she knew she'd miscalculated. It would be worse sitting across from him, looking at what she wanted and couldn't have.

“Did you call Mark?”

“What?” Mentioning Mark was like throwing a bucket of ice water on her.

“The reporter friend.” Dillon picked up a French fry. “Is he on board?”

It took Samantha a moment to notice his hand wasn't steady. He was as affected as she was and trying to remind them both they had a business-only relationship. He wasn't going to take advantage of her weakness. For a crazy second, she wished he weren't being noble again.

She unwrapped her hamburger. “He is. He's coming in Saturday.”

“To see you or the race?” Dillon asked, not even pretending to eat.

She placed the burger on her tray. “We will not do this. Please. Collins—”

“Has to come first,” he finished for her, picking up his burger and taking a bite. “Can you cook?”

“Yes. Why?”

“If things go the way I think they might between Mama and Roman, they'll be going out every night, which means she won't be cooking.”

Samantha eyed him suspiciously. “You can't be asking me to cook for you.”

He placed his hamburger back on his tray and pushed it away. “It makes sense. You know Mama wouldn't care about you coming over. I could work on the prototype at the plant, then go over the files with you in the evenings.”

It sounded reasonable, tempting. And risky. “Sorry. I don't think that's wise.”

“Probably not.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“You're not eating?”

“It's not what I want.”

Samantha felt the pull again and tucked her head to eat her hamburger. She was definitely staying clear of Dillon. He was much too tempting.

*   *   *

Marlene must know half the town,
Roman thought. Unlike the other night when they'd gone to eat and were left alone, here people recognized her. Women waved from their tables or as they passed when leaving. If they were near, they stopped for a hug and to give him a critical once-over as she introduced them.

“I'm sorry,” she said after the last woman and her husband walked away. “You're hopping up and down so much, you haven't been able to enjoy your meal.”

“I don't mind the women. But if a man comes over, we might have a problem.”

The small smile slid from her face. “You won't have to worry about that.”

“Good, because I'm a possessive kind of guy.” He said the words casually as he cut into his chicken-fried steak. He figured he might as well get it out there.

“Because of what happened?” Marlene asked, her fork poised over her broccoli.

His gaze lifted to hers. “No. It's you. Just you. I look at you and feel…” He paused, searching for words. “Things I never felt before.”

“Oh.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. He hungered for her. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, he knew she'd see the raw need and he didn't try to mask it. He wanted her to know how much he desired her.

She picked up her glass with an unsteady hand. “Perhaps we should discuss something else.”

“Sorry if you're embarrassed, but as I said, I believe in frankness.” He took a bite of mashed potatoes. “The guys working with me said this place had the best home cooking in the city. Both recommended the chicken-fried steak. What do you think?”

“That you're a patient man,” she said, the smile that warmed him and turned him on returning.

He breathed easier. “Comes with the territory. It can take weeks, months, to investigate an account.”

“How are things going?” she asked.

He frowned. “Dillon is right. I can't put my finger on it yet, but I will.”

“You're as self-assured as Dillon.”

Roman shrugged. “If you don't believe in yourself, you can't expect anyone else to. But I figure you know that already.”

She placed her fork and knife on her plate. “Life offers a lot of challenges.”

“And rewards,” he said, his meaning clear. “Has Dillon told you how we met?”

“He said you worked for Carson's family.”

“Carson's father and I graduated from MIT together. Our families have known each other for three generations.”

Interest sparkled in her eyes. “Three generations. How wonderful.”

“Coffee and your dessert.” The waitress placed the cobblers and their coffee on the table and left.

“An understatement. My father and Nathan's father met while working in basic training for the air force.” Roman picked up his spoon. “Both came from poor parents. Both were the first to finish college. My younger sister is married to Nathan.”

Surprised delight flittered across Marlene's face. “Dillon never mentioned you were related to the Rowlands. I've met Tess. She's a beautiful woman on the inside and out, and unpretentious as they come. She and Nathan have always made Dillon feel welcome when he went to visit them. One weekend here when Dillon and Carson were freshmen was enough for Carson.” Marlene smiled. “He enjoyed my cooking, but not the quiet life.”

“To think I could have met you long ago.”

“Perhaps. Please go on.”

In other words,
Roman thought,
she would have brushed him off.
“There are five of us children. I'm the oldest. Blessedly, my parents are still alive. All of us live in Dallas since my youngest brother recently relocated from Charleston. He's also the only one still single. Our families were always close. My divorce changed that for my children.” His hand clenched on the spoon. He sat back in his chair.

“I can forgive my ex for cheating, but not for disrupting the lives of my children. They live in D.C., apart from both of us because their mother makes them feel guilty if they show a preference for me.”

Her hand covered his. “I'm sorry.”

He'd barely felt the warmth before her hand moved. “You're lucky Dillon is around.”

“We almost grew up together.”

“It's still difficult to believe that you're his mother.” Roman smiled. “I guess you know he talks about you. He's proud of you.”

“There were times—” Shaking her head, she picked up her spoon but didn't eat. “It wasn't always easy.”

“Yet, you did it, just like you run the garage. Like I said, you're a remarkable woman, Marlene. It's going to be a pleasure getting to know you better.”

“So this isn't our first and last date?” she asked with a bit of a twinkle in her eyes.

“Not by a long shot.” He leaned across the table. “This is just the beginning.”

*   *   *

The movie had been a romantic suspense and one she had wanted to see. She liked both the male and female leads. The movie should have kept her attention. It hadn't.

Marlene kept thinking about when he'd take her home and the good-night kiss. The torrid love scene between the leads had only made her more aware of the man sitting beside her, his male scent, the strong arm around her shoulders …

Now, walking to her door, she couldn't stop shivering. She could no longer deny the reason. Anticipation, not fear.

Thankfully, the first try unlocked the door. Reaching inside, she switched on the light, wondering if she should invite him in. Dillon had said he'd make himself scarce, but … She turned and found herself where she had wanted to be all night, wrapped in Roman's strong arms. She sighed with the rightness of it. His hand slid into her hair, angling her head up.

“I can't wait any longer.” His mouth brushed against hers, warming her lips, heating her body. It seemed an eternity before his lips settled firmly against hers, his tongue gliding inside her mouth. She was incredibly aware of his lean body pressed against hers. She felt cherished. She'd never felt that way with a man. Her knees trembled. Her hold tightened as she sank more deeply against him.

He tore his mouth away, his breathing harsh, then pulled her to him. “You…”

Trembling, Marlene just held on as her heart tried to settle. “I might be too old for this,” she mumbled, then stiffened as she realized she'd said the words aloud. Mortified, she shut her eyes. She might have joked about a senior moment earlier, but she hadn't just had a kiss that made her ache and burn.

She heard a muffled sound and realized it was laughter. Seconds later, her laughter joined Roman's.

“I'm older and I say we're definitely not too old.” He straightened, brushed her hair away from her face. “You're so beautiful.”

“Would you like to come in?” she asked. She was going to reach out for what she wanted.

“I'd like nothing better, but I don't think I'm that strong. How about a game of putt-putt tomorrow night?” he asked.

Marlene unhappily accepted that he was right. She'd prefer Dillon not catch her on the sofa. “I've never played.”