The CEO's Unexpected Proposal Read online

  When she and Dawson had danced together at the reunion, an old attraction to him had tugged at her. But it had no place here. Dawson’s life was in turmoil and his son was his priority and would be hers, too.

  Still, as their gazes held, the room seemed to shake a little. Yet Dawson was counting on her as a friend who could help his son. She would assist any child in this situation.

  “I’ll do my best to help put Luke on a healthy emotional path. I can’t tell you I’m going to solve anything, Dawson, but I can at least try to get the two of you talking again.”

  A light rap on the door startled them, and Mikala knew it must be her Aunt Anna. She didn’t have her in-session sign up. But if she didn’t answer the knock, her aunt would go about her business, knowing Mikala couldn’t be interrupted.

  Glancing at Dawson’s face, she could see he hadn’t wanted to revisit the past, but he’d done it for his son’s sake. She assured him, “I don’t have to answer that.”

  “Go ahead,” he said with a small smile and she could see he was glad for the break.

  When she stood, her arm brushed Dawson’s shoulder. Again there was a quick meeting of their gazes, but neither said anything. She felt totally unsettled and was glad to open the door again and feel the cold breeze.

  Her Aunt Anna smiled at her. “I saw the car, but your sign wasn’t turned around so I thought—”

  “It’s okay. Come on in. Dawson Barrett’s here.” She didn’t say more. If Dawson wanted her aunt to know anything else, he would tell her.

  Her aunt’s wavy, steel-gray hair attractively framed her face. She was wearing a jogging suit with a down jacket and her favorite pair of sneakers. Mikala’s heart contracted with love for this woman who had raised her. She owed her aunt more than she could ever repay and she loved her dearly.

  Dawson stood and came forward, hand extended.

  “Hello, Ms. Conti. It’s good to see you again.”

  Aunt Anna never stood on ceremony. She wrapped her arms around Dawson for a hug. “Don’t give me that ‘Ms. Conti’ baloney. You called me Aunt Anna when you were a teenager. You can still call me that.” She stood back to take a better look at him. “Mikala told me you were at the reunion. She’s never forgotten you, you know. You were her white knight at the prom.”

  Mikala wanted to crawl under the love seat, but Dawson chuckled. “I don’t know how much of a white knight I was.”

  His green gaze rested on Mikala and she remembered everything about that night in vivid detail—her torn dress, the date who had tried to maul her in the back of his car, Dawson coming to her rescue when she’d called out. Even more than all that, she remembered Dawson’s gentle kiss on her forehead after he’d taken her home. She’d told her aunt what had happened.

  After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Dawson turned back to Anna. “Did Mikala tell you I’m moving back to Miners Bluff?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Anna waited for him to explain.

  “I have a ten-year-old son. My wife died and he’s having a hard time. So I thought moving back here, giving him roots in a smaller community might help. Mikala’s skill as a music therapist is well-known. She’s going to spend some time with him.”

  “Well, if anyone can help him get settled again, I’m sure she can. Is your son with you?”

  “No, not yet. I came up today to meet with Mikala, to see the school and register him, to stay over and refamiliarize myself with what’s here. I’ll bring Luke up to Miners Bluff in a couple of weeks when his term in Phoenix ends.”

  “I see.” Anna paused, looked at Mikala and then asked Dawson, “Do you have a place to stay tonight…or when you move back?”

  “Not yet. I was going to check into a motel and look for something temporary until I find a house. I’m going to check around before I return to Phoenix.”

  “If I could make a suggestion,” Anna offered.

  “I’m open to suggestions,” Dawson responded with that smile that could disarm anyone. He’d always been an easy conversationalist. As senior class president and a basketball star, he’d had his pick of girls to date. Yet his circle of friends had been most important to him.

  “January isn’t a prime tourist month in Miners Bluff,” Anna explained wryly. “So the bed-and-breakfast has two suites vacant, one on the first floor with one bedroom and one on the third with two bedrooms. You could have your pick. For tonight and for when you return. I’d even give you a weekly rate since you don’t know how long you’d need to stay.”

  “Aunt Anna, Dawson might want something…different than the B and B.”

  Actually, Dawson looked relieved. “No, I think the Purple Pansy might be perfect. Convenient for tonight. And just right for me and Luke. Staying here could be good for him. That is, if your biscotti and pie are part of the deal.”

  Anna laughed. “You drive a hard bargain. But biscotti are always in the jar and I make pies twice a week. I never know who will drop in, or if I’ll get a last-minute reservation.”

  “Could I take a look at the suites now?” Dawson asked.

  “Well…” Anna drawled. “I have a meeting in town. But Mikala could show them to you.”

  Her aunt hadn’t mentioned a meeting that morning when they’d spoken. She wasn’t trying to play matchmaker, was she? Because Dawson wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t sure she was, either—or would ever be.

  Dawson was looking at her expectantly.

  “Sure, I can show them to you. We should have enough time before your appointment.”

  Mikala took her wool jacket from the coatrack behind the door, slipped it on and buttoned it up to the neck even though they weren’t walking very far. For some reason she felt as if she needed all of her defenses buttoned into place around Dawson. Which made no sense. Her dreams of attracting someone like Dawson had died a long time ago. She knew she wasn’t sexy. She knew loving brought heartache and doubled a woman’s insecurities.

  In high school Dawson’s casual good looks had gotten him dates with all the popular girls and his souped-up Mustang had made him the envy of most of the guys. Dawson had been popular and cool. Playing basketball and being able to talk to anyone had helped that image.

  She, on the other hand, had been mostly quiet and introspective.

  Locking up the high school memories in a tight box, she led Dawson out the door and up the flagstone path to the Purple Pansy, not only a well-liked B and B on the northern Arizona tourist route, but her home for all of her thirty-three years. Her aunt had run the B and B since before Mikala was born in addition to giving piano lessons, taking in typing for a temp agency and working as a receptionist on and off. Anna had worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, good food on the table and laughter in the kitchen. Mikala knew she could never repay her aunt for raising her when her mother had left and hardly looked back.

  “There’s snow in the air,” Dawson remarked, as they walked along the path profuse with flowers in summer and fall, now barren with the winter cold.

  Glancing over at Dawson, she had to look up. She wasn’t short. She was a good five-eight. “Very different from Phoenix.”

  “Maybe I can coax Luke outdoors more here and involve him in winter sports. He spends too much time cooped up in his room. Cactus and heat don’t help.”

  “Does he have a specific reason for fighting the move?” No one particularly liked change, but children could be more resilient than adults.

  “He’s protesting in part because my dad’s staying there. And, of course, Phoenix is the only home he knows. It’s where we were a family. Where he had his mom.”

  Mikala saw the sadness in Dawson’s eyes when he spoke of his deceased wife. But she sensed he was hurting more for Luke than himself. Was she right about that? Had Dawson’s marriage been less than he’d expected it to be? Had an unplanned pregnancy m
ade it rocky from the start?

  On the patio of the B and B, Dawson looked around at the sycamores and pines, Moonshadow Mountain and Feather Peak in the distance.

  “It’s just as I remembered it.”

  There was nostalgia in his voice and she wondered exactly what he was remembering.

  When they stepped into the kitchen, Mikala caught the scent of vanilla and lavender. The whole house seemed to have that scent, except when she or her aunt were baking. Then cinnamon and fruit smells filled every nook and cranny.

  There was surprise in Dawson’s voice when he said, “This changed.”

  The house was about a hundred years old and well-maintained. Overall, it had an old-fashioned air, with bronze sconces on walls that resembled oil lamps, ceiling lights with chandelier bulbs and wallpaper with tiny purple and yellow flowers. However, the kitchen had seen a major overhaul.

  Glancing around, Mikala smiled. “Stainless steel moved in so I guess it’s more modern. We have a new counter and floor, too. But some things are still the same.”

  Dawson’s gaze passed over the oak clock above the sink, the railing above the cupboards holding Hummel figurines, the maple table and chairs that were antiques now.

  “She still has the purple pansy curtains.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.

  “Yes, she does. They’re fairly new, though, the old ones had faded.”

  “This still feels…homey,” Dawson mused, and Mikala had to wonder if his house didn’t.

  Decisive again, he motioned down the hall. “Let’s look at the third-floor suite. Two bedrooms would be better to give both Luke and I some privacy.”

  As they walked down the hall, Mikala tried to avoid thinking about the fact that if Dawson took the third-floor suite, she’d be on the second floor. Her quarters and her aunt’s were there. Having Dawson under the same roof gave her stomach an upside-down kind of feeling.

  The carpet runner on the stairs quieted their footsteps. As they climbed the second flight, she asked him, “How much will you be bringing with you?”

  “Just enough to make Luke comfortable. I’ll have his bedroom furniture and the piano trucked up here when we’re ready, but the rest of it I’m going to leave at the house. The market is picking up there, and with everything priced right, I’m hoping a furnished house will sell quickly. If Luke and I are starting a new life, it will be better that way.”

  “You might ask him if there’s anything else he wants to keep. Baggage is one thing, Dawson, but memories are another. You don’t want to tear him away from everything he knows. He could be fighting the move because he feels that’s what you’re doing.”

  At the landing now, Dawson looked troubled. “I hope I’m not making a mistake. But nothing is working for Luke in Phoenix.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?” Mikala asked, as they stood at the door to the third-floor suite, close enough to share confidences and remember friendship that might have been more. If only—

  If only Dawson’s family hadn’t moved away, whatever the reason.

  “My gut’s telling me this is right.”

  “Then maybe I can help him marry the past with the present.”

  The word marry seemed to hang between them and she wondered why she’d chosen that word. To remind herself Dawson had been married? That even after two years he might still be grieving? That nothing could come of any attraction she might feel? That she didn’t trust that anyone would stay and not leave, especially a man…especially someone she loved? She’d been left behind more than once and she wouldn’t let it happen again. The memory of Alan Taylor telling her he’d fallen for someone else still stung…still hurt…bringing back a feeling of inadequacy she’d fought against since she was a teenager.

  Mikala took a key ring from her pocket. It jangled as she poked an old-fashioned key into the door and turned the lock. The solid wood door swung open. She and Dawson stepped inside to a sitting room where braided rugs in hunter green and navy dotted the floor. The navy leather couch was accompanied by a green and blue plaid chair.

  Mikala switched on a multi-colored Tiffany lamp so Dawson could see there was a small kitchen area with a microwave, two-burner stove and a table for two. Yellow curtains and placemats brightened up the small space.

  As Dawson assessed the suite, Mikala crossed the room to a short hall. She opened one door to reveal a nice-sized bedroom with a hand-carved oak bed and dresser. A handmade quilt with navy, red, green and yellow patches stretched across the bed. The second bedroom, slightly smaller with a slanted ceiling, had an oak washstand with mirror, a shorter dresser and a double bed. Light poured in the double-hung windows, splashing over the green-and-tan spread.

  “This is perfect,” Dawson decided. “I think Luke and I will both feel comfortable here.” He took a checkbook from his inside jacket pocket. “I should give your aunt a deposit.”

  Automatically Mikala’s hand closed over his. “No, don’t worry about that. She’ll settle up with you when the time comes.”

  Time seemed suspended for a moment as she could feel the heat of his hand under hers. He didn’t move and neither did she. Then she realized she should let go. She shouldn’t be touching him.

  Hurriedly she released her fingers from his and dropped her hand to her side. But Dawson still seemed frozen in place. He studied her, maybe searching for the girl she’d once been, a scared lost teenager not knowing exactly who she was or where she belonged.

  Before she could square her shoulders and tell him she was somebody very different now, he took her back fifteen years by gently grazing his thumb over her cheek. “When we were in high school—” He suddenly stopped, dropping his hand to his side.

  “What?” she urged him, believing it was somehow important that he went on.

  “I was going to ask you to the prom.”

  Knowing the value of silence, she waited.

  “But too much was going on at home. Then someone else asked you instead.”

  Oh, yes. Carson Simmons had asked her to the prom and she’d gone with him because he’d been a football player, one of the in-crowd, someone who lots of girls wanted to go out with. But she’d found out that night why he didn’t seem to date anyone more than twice. She’d found out the hard way that some boys wanted to do more than talk and couldn’t—wouldn’t—take no for an answer.

  “After I brought you home that night,” Dawson added, “I was going to call you.”

  This time she couldn’t keep quiet. “But you didn’t.”

  “All hell broke loose at home and things got…complicated.” Their gazes locked until he said, “A little bit like now.”

  As if the moment had been much too intense for both of them, he slipped his checkbook back into his jacket pocket then checked his watch. “I’d better go.”

  “I spend some of my time at the elementary school working with students who need help with communication and behavioral issues. Do you want me to go with you? I can show you around before your meeting with the principal.”

  As soon as she offered, she wasn’t sure she should have…because Dawson was looking at her the same way he had the night of their prom.

  “I’d like that,” he responded huskily.

  At that moment, Mikala knew she had to bury whatever feelings she’d once had for Dawson so she could help his son.

  That was the professional road to take…the one she must take.

  Chapter Two

  As Dawson and Mikala signed in at the office of Miners Bluff’s elementary school, he dropped the keys to his SUV in his pocket and glanced at her. She’d changed a lot since high school. He’d realized that the night of the reunion. She had a confidence about her now that went with her professional demeanor. She’d also gotten curvier and had a quietly sexy way about her that stirred up buried physic
al needs. Was that only happening because it had been a long time since he’d wanted to have sex with a woman?

  A voice in his head was yelling, Not Mikala. She can’t be an experiment to satisfy your libido. Mikala had always been the kind of girl you respected…the kind of girl you waited for.

  Where had that thought come from?

  She finished with the pen and handed it to him so he could sign the log. Reaching for it, his fingers grazed hers. After he felt another jolt of attraction, he noticed such startled awareness in her eyes that he found it captivating. But he couldn’t be captivated by Mikala. She was going to be working with his son. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—mess with that.

  But when he studied her pretty face and her expressive dark brown eyes, he knew he faced a battle against attraction and chemistry and hormones he hadn’t even known could roar through him anymore.

  The last few years of his marriage to Kelly had become filled with tension. That tension translated into him burying himself in work…her already sleeping when he came home. Not much sex. Little intimacy. It had started with an argument they’d had when Luke was two. She’d revealed she’d stopped her birth control pills on purpose when they were dating because she’d wanted to get married! He’d been unwilling to let his own marriage disintegrate the way his parents’ had and he’d held on to hope that he and Kelly could fix whatever was wrong. He’d been determined to make sure Luke’s life wouldn’t be marred by divorce the way his had.

  But he’d never quite gotten over the pain of her lie.

  Mikala didn’t say much as she pointed out the fifth-grade classrooms and the arts center. A few kids waved at her as the bell rang and students headed for their buses. She stopped to introduce him to one of the teachers and then they made their way to a room at the end of the hall.

  When they stepped inside, Dawson realized this was Mikala’s domain. There was a keyboard, a box of tambourines, several large bright balls and several recorders on the top of a bookshelf. A chord chart hung on one wall and photographs of dancers on another.