The Widow's Bachelor Bargain Page 4

  The interior reflected the Montana pioneer spirit—rugged and rustic. Overhead, dark beams ran the length of the ceiling and the still-original floor was fashioned from wood planks. Lantern-shaped lights illuminated the booths lining the exterior and bistro tables scattered throughout. A rectangular oak bar with a brass foot rail dominated the center of the room, and pictures of the earliest Blackwater Lake settlers with shovels, axes and covered wagons hung on the walls.

  Delanie glanced at her friends. “This may sound corny, but I can feel him here. Sort of a presence. It’s comforting.”

  “That’s good.” Maggie envied her friend. She’d never experienced comfort or felt Danny’s presence in the house he’d built for her. And when she looked at the daughter they’d made, sometimes she felt a guilt that had nothing to do with being a good mom and everything to do with a wife who’d let her husband down. He’d never had a chance to see his child.

  “Okay, ladies,” Dee said. “This conversation has taken a dark and twisty turn. I took the night off and am paying Savannah to pour drinks so that I can have a distraction from work.”

  April laughed. “Then, we picked the wrong place to distract you.”

  “There aren’t a lot of places to go in a town this small,” Maggie commented.

  “That’s going to change when the resort is built. Mark my words.” April nodded knowingly. “Maybe you can convince your new boarder the builder to put up a movie theater.”

  “Or a shopping mall.” Delanie’s blue eyes took on a dreamy look. “I would happily indulge my love affair with shoes, especially the ones I didn’t have to drive an hour to buy.”

  The other two thought about that and sighed dreamily.

  “So what’s he like?” Delanie asked. “I saw Lucy the other day and she said Sloan Holden came into the café and had lunch with you.”

  “What did Lucy say about him?” Maggie hedged.

  “That he’s charming and handsome.”

  Maggie’s heart started beating just a little too fast as soon as his name came up. For the past couple of days she’d seen him at breakfast and dinner. And that one day for lunch. He was unfailingly polite, undemanding, and her daughter followed him around whenever she saw him. But what distracted Maggie most was what he’d said at lunch, the hint that he’d used serial dating as a cover until he found someone like her.

  Surely he’d been teasing. Although, if he really was anticommitment, hooking up with a widow who wasn’t interested in a relationship would certainly preserve his confirmed-bachelor status.

  “So, is he?” April demanded.

  Maggie blinked at her friends. “What?”

  “Pay attention, Potter,” Dee scolded. “Is he charming and handsome?”

  “Oh, I’m not the best person to ask.”

  “Come on,” April said. “You’re a woman and you’re breathing. We’ve watched movies together and rated the actors on a scale. If you can do that, you can give us an opinion.”

  “Since he’s a paying customer, it seems unprofessional to talk about him like this.”

  Delanie frowned at her. “What’s up? It isn’t like you not to share.”

  “I’m uncomfortable with the one-to-ten thing.”

  “Okay. We’ll compare him to actors and see how he holds up. I’ll start.” April took a sip of her wine. “Channing Tatum.”

  “Ooh,” Maggie said. “But no. Sloan is in good shape, but more like a runner than a wrestler.”

  “Okay. How about Taylor Kitsch?” Delanie shrugged. “I just rented the movie Battleship. It was cheesy, but I loved it.”

  Maggie knew the actor and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “He and Chris Pratt are a similar type and both are fantasy-worthy, but I wouldn’t say Sloan resembles them.”

  “Definitely fantasy material,” April agreed. “I just saw the musical Into the Woods and I have to say that Chris Pine works for me in a big way as Prince Charming.”

  “Bingo,” Maggie said. “He reminds me of Chris Pine, but with brown eyes and darker hair.”

  Delanie used her hand to fan herself. “Be still, my heart. And he’s under your roof. How do you sleep at night?”

  “Oh, you know. Exhausted after work, cooking for boarders and chasing after a toddler. I just close my eyes and...” Think about being alone in my big bed while Sloan is alone in his on the second floor of my house. “I’m sure you’ll both get a chance to meet him. This is a small town and—”

  The bell over the bar’s front door tinkled and all three women looked over to see who’d walked in. Maggie instantly recognized Sloan, who smiled when he saw her.

  “That’s him,” she whispered to her friends. “Sloan Holden.”

  Without hesitation, he walked over to their table. “Hi, Maggie. Mind if I join you ladies?”

  Before Maggie could think of a way to discourage him, her two friends enthusiastically invited him to pull up a chair. He did and settled in right next to her.

  “So you’re Sloan Holden,” Delanie said.

  “Yes.” He shook hands with her and April as they introduced themselves.

  “What are you doing here?” Maggie asked. Then she realized that sounded just the tiniest bit abrupt and unwelcoming. “I mean, did you have dinner? Josie promised to put everything on the table for me. Since my mom has Danielle, it’s a chance for me to have a night off.”

  “Yes, I did have dinner. Excellent pot roast, by the way. Josie mentioned that you were here and I felt like taking a night off myself.”

  The implication was that he’d come looking for her. Whether or not that was the case, the idea of it kicked up her pulse.

  “Delanie owns Bar None,” Maggie said.

  He looked at the redhead. “I’m impressed. This is a nice place.”

  “Thanks. Would you like a drink?”

  “Beer,” he said. “Whatever you have on draft.”

  “Coming right up.” Delanie slid off her chair and headed over to the bar, where the fill-in bartender was polishing glasses. She said something and the young woman grabbed a tall glass and filled it.

  “April owns a photography studio,” Maggie said, filling the silence.

  “I’ve seen it.” Sloan looked at the pretty brunette but gave no indication he noticed how pretty she was. “How’s business?”

  “A little slow when it’s not ski or boating season. Tourism drops off then, but I diversify. Besides portraits and wedding pictures, I sell my photographs of landscapes and wildlife. I freelance for high school events and sometimes the sheriff’s office needs photos taken.”

  “Sounds like you keep busy.”

  Delanie returned and set a glass on a napkin in front of him. “Welcome to Bar None. First one is on the house.”

  “Thank you.”

  For several moments, the four of them sipped their drinks in silence. Maggie could tell her friends felt a little uncomfortable after talking about him. Then he’d walked in and it was a little like getting caught with their hands in the cookie jar. She was preoccupied because his thigh kept brushing hers. He seemed bigger at this bistro table than he did in her dining room. She needed to act normal because her friends would notice, but she didn’t feel at all normal around Sloan.

  “So, Mr. Holden—”

  “Sloan, please,” he said.

  “Sloan,” April finally said. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Yeah. We need to come clean,” Delanie chimed in, obviously aware of what her friend was going to say. “We were talking about you when you came in. Gossiping, really.”

  “Oh?” Sloan didn’t look the least bit upset.

  April nodded. “For the record, Maggie protected the privacy of her guest and wouldn’t cooperate. The thing is, this is a small town and not much happens. People gossip anyway
. But when we have a celebrity, there’s going to be talk. And Bar None is gossip central, so we were doing our duty as loyal customers and citizens of Blackwater Lake.”

  “I see your point.” Sloan held up his beer mug, signaling a toast. “To loyalty.”

  They all clinked glasses and sipped.

  “What do you want to know about me?” Sloan asked.

  “So many things, so little time.” Delanie grinned. “Okay, since you volunteered... Why are you a confirmed bachelor?”

  “Because I was married for fifteen minutes and found out I’m not good at it.” The answer was straightforward, matter-of-fact. No tension or evidence he’d been deeply hurt.

  And then his muscular thigh bumped against Maggie’s and her nerves snapped, crackled and popped. Her gaze jumped to his and she saw laughter in his eyes. The table was small, but she would bet that he was deliberately touching her.

  “What if you fall in love?” April wanted to know.

  “I don’t believe in it. Simple, uncomplicated and fun. That’s all I’m looking for.”

  “You’re honest. That’s pretty cute.” Delanie looked impressed. “But I think you should have that sentiment stitched on a sampler and mounted on the wall of your office.”

  “Great idea. I’ll get my assistant right on that.”

  “Not if you want her to continue being your assistant,” Maggie said.

  “You’re probably right. Next question.”

  “Can we talk you into building a movie theater in Blackwater Lake? Maybe a multiplex?”

  “Why?”

  “Someplace to go if we had a date,” Delanie said.

  “If?” He looked at each of them in turn, but his gaze settled on Maggie. “Now that I think about it, why are three beautiful ladies such as yourselves not on a date right now?”

  “Who says we want to date?” Maggie answered, thinking about what he’d said to her, about her not wanting to be happy. “We are successful businesswomen—fulfilled and content without a man.”

  “Is it just me,” he said to April and Delanie, “or does she sound defensive?”

  Why was he going there? Maggie thought. The last time they’d talked, he’d agreed that she wasn’t his type. So why was he zeroing in on her? She didn’t for a second buy his story about using tabloid interviews referencing him being a confirmed bachelor as a cover to look for someone like her. And then it dawned on her that he was flirting. It took a while to recognize the behavior because no one had flirted with her in a very long time.

  “Not defensive.” She smiled at him and crossed one leg over the other. The movement brought their thighs into contact and she saw his eyes darken for a second. “Just telling it like it is.”

  “So that’s what you say to all the guys?”

  “No,” she said. “Just the ones who sell newspapers because of their escapades with women.”

  The zinger made him grin and she felt that look all the way to her toes. She smiled back at him and realized she’d forgotten how much fun flirting could be.

  * * *

  When Sloan got back to the house after leaving the bar, he poured himself a scotch from the bottle his assistant had requested for his room and took the tumbler outside. It was a beautiful March night—cool, crisp, clear. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more spectacular sky full of stars.

  A little while ago he’d heard Maggie come home with Danielle. The open master-bedroom window backed up to the patio where he was sitting and the sounds of giggling and splashing drifted to him. It was bath time and all indications pointed to the fact that the girls were having a blast.

  For some reason it made him feel lonely, again on the outside looking in. Especially after hanging out with Maggie at Bar None. She’d actually flirted with him and rubbed her leg against his, mostly, he suspected, because she was aware that he’d been deliberately doing that to her. He grinned at the memory even as his body grew hard with need. The attraction was unexpected and inconvenient, and he should have known better than to start something he had no intention of finishing. He’d been playing with fire and the burning inside him now was his punishment.

  The voices inside the house became more subdued and then the light went off. Moonlight was now the only light source in the rear yard. He was almost sure Maggie was singing to her daughter, and then all was quiet. Moments later, he heard the microwave go on in the kitchen. The outside door opened and Maggie stepped onto the patio.

  Sloan was pretty sure she didn’t see him, because she stood still, looking at the sky and taking deep, cleansing breaths. He figured it would be best to warn her she wasn’t alone.

  “Maggie—”

  “Dear God—” She jumped and let out a screech, pressing a hand to her chest. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I thought you’d be upstairs.”

  “No. I wanted some air,” he explained.

  “Me, too.” She blew out a long breath then met his gaze.

  She was close enough that he could reach out and touch her. He really wanted to, which meant it probably wasn’t a very good idea.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” he said.

  “I don’t want to intrude. And I didn’t have dinner. I just put a plate in the microwave. You were here first.”

  “Is there anything in the Potter House rules that says we can’t enjoy the fresh air together?”

  “Of course not.” Moonlight revealed her mouth curving up in a smile.

  “Danielle is settled for the night?”

  “She is.”

  “Then, you should take some time to enjoy the beauty of your own backyard.” He saw her catch her bottom lip between her teeth and need sliced through him, sharp and deep. “I’ll bet you don’t do it very much.”

  “You’d win that bet.”

  “Take a chance, Potter. Throw caution to the wind. Five minutes to fill up your soul.”

  She sighed and he knew he’d won this round. There was a thickly padded chair at a right angle to his and she lowered herself into it.

  “No guilt allowed.” In front of him her friends had teased her about feeling guilty for enjoying an evening away from her daughter. “Whatever you have to do inside will still be there when your spirit is renewed.”

  “That’s for sure,” she agreed. “Somehow the B and B fairies never make it here to get breakfast ready or do laundry.”

  “It’s just sad. You can’t get good fairy help these days.”

  She laughed. “You’re very funny, Sloan.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “April and Delanie thought so, too.” She met his gaze. “They told me after you left.”

  “So that’s why my ears were burning.”

  “Oh, please. A man who spends as much time as you do with a vast number of women couldn’t possibly be surprised that we talked about you after you left.”

  “I’m not at all surprised. Especially since your friends came right out and copped to the fact that you were discussing me before I got there.”

  “You gotta love honest gossipmongers,” she pointed out.

  “It was refreshing. And I liked your friends very much.”

  “As I said, the feeling is mutual. You were exceptionally charming tonight, Holden.”

  “I did my best.”

  “Do you remember when you said we could ask you anything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you may also recall that I never asked a question at all.”

  He did. “I’m sensing that you would like to now. Am I right?”

  “Yes. And I have several, if that’s okay.”

  “Should I be afraid?”

  “I promise it won’t hurt,” she said.

  “Okay, then.” He set his
empty tumbler on the outside coffee table. “What would you like to know?”

  “Did you follow me to Bar None tonight?”

  “That makes me sound like a stalker,” he hedged.

  “Are you?”

  “Wow. I’m not sure if going from serial killer to stalker is a step up.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “You’re very good at not answering questions.”

  “Lots of practice,” he admitted. “Okay. It’s a hard habit to break, but I’ll stop sidestepping. When Josie mentioned that you were meeting friends it sounded like fun and I did deliberately crash the party.”

  He couldn’t speak to how hard it was being a single mom and needing some downtime. But he knew how it felt to be a fish out of water, a big fish in a little pond and craving some social time. Not to mention being curious about Maggie. He braced himself for a grilling about following her.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I needed to talk to someone about something other than work.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “I understand that. And then my friends asked you to build a movie theater.”

  “It’s actually a great idea. The resort is going to bring in a lot of people. They’ll be looking for entertainment involving something other than skiing or boating and water sports.”

  “Speaking of entertainment...” She tapped her lip. “Is it true that a woman once broke into your hotel room and waited in your bed? Naked?”

  He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “So it is true.” She leaned forward, warming to her subject. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “By definition, breaking into my hotel room is bad.”

  “Surely not the naked part.” Her tone was teasing.

  “Whose side are you on? I was the injured party.”

  “You sound like an outraged spinster. I don’t understand your problem. Was she fat? Cellulite? Abs weren’t prime-time ready?”

  “She had a lovely body. Hotel security thought so, too, as did the police. Why would this be okay because I’m a guy? She violated my personal space.”

  “I see what you mean.” She scooted to the edge of her chair. “There was another story about you spending millions of dollars on breakup baubles.”