McFarlane's Perfect Bride / Taming the Montana Millionaire: McFarlane's Perfect Bride

Now, there was pleasure involved, too. Because of a certain strawberry-blonde schoolteacher with a cute smattering of freckles across her nose.

At home, Gerda, his live-in housekeeper, was already in bed. Light bled out from under the door of CJ’s room. Connor listened for the sounds of weapons firing and objects exploding.

Nothing. Just silence. CJ probably had his headphones on.

He looked at his watch. Almost one.

With a weary sigh, he tapped on the door. No answer. He tapped again, louder.

“What?” Muffled, annoyed, from inside.

Connor pushed the door open and went in.

As expected, CJ sat on the end of the bed, fully dressed, wearing headphones and working a controller. “What?” Eyes on the screen, thumbs flying.

Connor said nothing. He went over and sat next to his son on the bed. He watched the violence on the silent screen while CJ continued to play his game.

Several minutes passed. Connor felt his own impatience rise. He ignored it. He breathed slowly and evenly and he stared at the screen, sitting absolutely still.

Finally, CJ paused the game, took off his headphones, and glared at him. “I asked you, what?”

Connor spoke in a friendly tone. “I had a date with Tori Jones tonight. Had a really good time, too.”

CJ gaped. For some reason, Connor found his son’s surprise inordinately satisfying. “Ms. Jones? She went out with you?”

Connor played it cool. “That’s right. And she’s coming with us to the picnic Sunday.”

“What picnic?” CJ pretended not to remember, though Connor had told him more than once that they were going.

“Out at the Hopping H.”

“Oh, great.” Meaning it wasn’t. “Forget it, okay? I’m not going to any picnic out at Aunt Melanie’s ranch.”

“Suit yourself.”

CJ slanted him a suspicious look; Connor usually didn’t give in that easily.

Connor got up and crossed to the door, turning back to deliver the zinger. “I’m sure Jerilyn will be sorry you couldn’t make it.” He stepped over the threshold.

CJ stopped him before he shut the door behind him. “Okay, wait.”

Connor faced the room again. “It’s late. Turn off the game and go to sleep.”

“You’re serious.” CJ squinted at him, as though trying to see inside his head. “Jerilyn will be there.”

If she accepts Tori’s invitation. “I’m serious.”

“Okay, fine. I guess I don’t mind going.”

Connor remembered Tori’s advice. “Another thing.”

“What?” CJ asked in a guarded mumble.

“You should ask Jerilyn to come over to the house. And any other new friends you’ve made in town.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know, just to … hang out. Plus, I’d like to get to know your friends a little.”

CJ frowned as he turned Connor’s suggestion over in his mind, no doubt looking for the catch. He found it. “Get to know them? Why? So you can ask them all kinds of questions?”

Connor suppressed a sigh. “No. Because they’re your friends, that’s all. I would like to meet your friends.”

CJ thought about that for a minute. Apparently, he found Connor’s reasoning acceptable. He gave out a grudging, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. And go to bed.”

“Oh, all right.” CJ grabbed the remote and turned off the flatscreen.

“Good night,” said Connor, as he pulled the door shut after him.

Faintly, he heard his son mutter, “Night.”

In the morning, after breakfast, Connor shut the door to his study and called his sister. One of the college girls she had helping out at the ranch for the summer answered the phone.

“Hi, Mr. McFarlane. She’s in the dining room, visiting with the guests.”

“Have her call me when she gets a moment.”

“Hold on. She just came into the kitchen …”

Then Melanie was on the line. “Connor. Hi.”

“You sound breathless.”

“We’ve got a full house.” Even in the lagging economy, she was making the Hopping H pay. “And it’s Saturday breakfast, which is always hectic.”

“Just called to give you a heads-up. About tomorrow? I invited two more people. I hope that’s okay.”

“No problem. The more the merrier. Who? Do I know them?”

“Tori Jones and Jerilyn Doolin.”

“Ah,” Melanie said. It was a very knowing kind of sound.

“What does ah mean?”

“Not a thing.”

“Liar.”

“Well, if you must know, I ran into Tori at the Tottering Teapot last Monday.”

“The Tottering Teapot. Is that a restaurant?”

“That’s right. On Main. We all love it.”

“We?”

“It’s more of a woman’s kind of place, actually,” she explained. That news didn’t surprise him in the least. “Lots of fresh salads. About a thousand different varieties of tea.”

“I get the picture,” he said without a lot of enthusiasm. “So you talked with Tori …”

“I did. She mentioned she was going out with you. And Grant dropped by early this morning. You two were spotted in the Gallatin Room last night.”

He shook his head, though his sister couldn’t see. “News travels at the speed of light around this town.”

“It does, absolutely.” Melanie lowered her voice. “Did you enjoy the evening? Isn’t Tori great? I’m glad to see you dating again. It’s about time.”

“I did. She is. And come on. It’s only been a year since the divorce. For your information, I have dated before last night, though the two other women I spent time with were nothing like Tori Jones.”

“You never told me.” She faked a hurt tone.

And suddenly, he could see her as she was at seven or eight years old. A skinny little red-headed thing, wanting attention from her big brother. And never getting it.

He swallowed down the sudden lump of guilt in his throat and kidded her, “Melanie, no matter how well we get along now, I’m not telling you everything.”

“And just when I thought I knew all your secrets.” Her joking tone turned distracted. “Hold on a minute …” He heard her giving instructions to someone. Then she came back on the line. “Where were we?”

“I’m not going to keep you. But I did want to ask …”

“What? Name it.”

“About that job offer Russ made, for CJ?”

“Still open. Just say the word.”

“Great. But I’m thinking CJ’s more likely to agree to the idea if it comes straight from you—or from anyone but me. Somehow, whatever I say to him nowadays, he thinks it’s an order. An order he’s honor-bound to reject out of hand.”

“All right, then. Sunday, when the time is right, I’ll offer him a job.”

Tori called Jerilyn at nine Saturday morning to invite her to the Sunday picnic at Melanie’s guest ranch.

The teenager answered the phone in tears. “Oh, Ms. Jones, I don’t know what to do …”

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Can I … would it be all right if I came over?”

“Yes. Right now. Do you want me to come and get you?”

“Oh, no. It’s okay.” The girl paused to stifle a sob. “I can ride my bike. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll be right over.”

When Jerilyn appeared, pedaling fast down the street, Tori was waiting for her, out on the porch.

“Oh, Ms. Jones.” Jerilyn dropped her bike on the front walk. Fresh tears welled. She ran up the steps and into Tori’s waiting arms.

Tori pulled the girl inside and shut the door. “Shh … shh. There now. Okay …”

When the sobbing settled down a little, Tori led her to the sofa, passed the tissues, and got the story out of her.

“My dad got a warning Thursday. From his supervisor. My dad hasn’t been getting the summer maintenance done. And if his work doesn’t improve in the next two weeks, he’s going to get fired.”

“Oh, Jerilyn.” Tori hugged her again. “Did your dad tell you this?”

Jerilyn blew her nose. “No way. He doesn’t tell me anything. I found the warning notice on the kitchen table, wadded up in a ball. And he started drinking Thursday night. He called in sick yesterday. He drank all day, late into last night. He was still at it when I finally went to bed. This morning, he won’t get up. I made breakfast. Just what he likes, scrambled eggs and home fries, sausage and English muffins. I tried to get him up to eat. He just growled at me to leave him alone.”

“Has he … hit you?” Tori hated to ask, but she knew that she had to. “Or hurt you in any way?”

Jerilyn sobbed and shook her head. “Oh, no. He just sits at the kitchen table and drinks and doesn’t say anything. Sometimes … he cries.”

Tori grabbed her close again. “Aw, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.” As she gave out the familiar litany of reassurances, she knew that in reality, it wasn’t okay. Not okay in the least.

“He would never hurt me.” Jerilyn swallowed more sobs. “Except that when he loses his job and we can’t pay the bills and… well, that will hurt me. That will hurt me really bad.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Jerilyn sagged against Tori with a long, sad sigh. “Yeah. It is. It is going to happen.”

Tori took her by the shoulders. “Look at me. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do. Totally.”

“I’m going to call someone who can help, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to bring your dad back to you, to make sure he doesn’t lose his job.”

Jerilyn blinked away the tears. “Who are you going to call?”

“Someone who’s been through exactly what your dad’s going through. Someone who managed to survive. Someone who will know what to do.”

Tori’s father, Dr. Sherwood Jones, caught a one-o’clock flight to Bozeman and rented a car. By four that afternoon, he was sitting in Tori’s living room.

“I can’t promise anything,” he warned a pale-faced Jerilyn, who looked at him through red, puffy eyes. “And I can’t even talk to him unless he’s sober.”

“He should be, by now. Unless he’s started in drinking again.”

“You say he’s never hit you or been in any way violent with you? “

“No. He wouldn’t. He … hasn’t. Not ever. He’s just so sad and lonely for my mom. They were always so close. She was his very best friend in the world. Without her … it’s killing him, Dr. Jones. It’s hurting him so deep.”

“I understand.” He glanced over at Tori, who sat across the coffee table from him and Jerilyn. Tori gulped down the sudden lump in her throat. Her dad did understand. They both did. He told Jerilyn. “Tori and I lost her mother when Tori was a couple of years younger than you are.”

Jerilyn’s eyes filled with tears again. She turned her gaze to Tori and tried a wobbly smile. “I know. Ms. Jones told me that, right after my mom died.”

Sherwood clasped Jerilyn’s shoulder. “I think we should go to your house now, see if maybe your dad is sober, and willing to talk with me. Are you okay with doing that?”

Jerilyn’s dark eyes were wide—and determined. “Yes. I think we should. We should go now.”

“Well, all right then,” Sherwood said, with that gentle smile that always warmed Tori’s heart.

They were at the front door when the phone rang. Tori told them, “I’ll just get that and be out in a sec.”

Her dad and Jerilyn headed for the car as Tori answered the phone on the side table in the great room.

It was Connor. “I just called to tell you I really hope Jerilyn said yes about tomorrow. I told CJ she would be there and suddenly he can’t wait to go to a picnic at the Hopping H.”

His voice, so warm, threaded with wry humor, made her wish he was there, right then, at her side. She would lean into him and he would put his strong arms around her and she would feel she could handle anything, even the rough family problems of her star student—and what was she thinking?

He was never going to be the kind of man she could lean on. She really had to remember that. He was leaving when summer was over—and in the meantime, he was going to cause trouble in the town that she loved.

“Tori? You there?”

“Right here. I … haven’t invited her yet.”

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“It’s a long story, one I just don’t have time to go into right now.”

“What can I do? Anything.”

She almost smiled. When he talked like that, so ready to rush to her side if she needed him, she could almost forget that in his real life, he was a ruthless corporate shark determined to buy out the Thunder Canyon Resort and throw a bunch of people out of work. “No, really. Thank you.”

“Are you in trouble? “

“No. Don’t worry, please. It’s not about me. I’m perfectly okay. And I’ll explain it all later. Right now, I have to go.”

“Call me. As soon as you can. I mean it.”

“Yes. All right. I’ll call this evening. I promise.” She said a hurried goodbye and then rushed out to join and Jerilyn and Sherwood in his rental car.

Jerilyn lived in a small, run-down house in a South New Town neighborhood that had seen better days. The siding needed fresh paint and the porch boards creaked.

Inside, they found Butch Doolin sitting at the cluttered kitchen table in a T-shirt and a ragged pair of sweatpants. His bloodshot eyes were puffy from too much alcohol the day before and he sported a couple of days’ worth of dark beard.

But he had a cup of coffee in front of him—no liquor in sight. He looked hungover, but sober.

And more than a little surprised to see Jerilyn, her teacher and some man he’d never met before standing in the doorway to his living room. “Jerilyn? What’s going on? “

Tori’s dad stepped right up. “I’m Sherwood Jones, Mr. Doolin. We’re here to see if we can help.”

Butch frowned. “Help?” And then he slowly shook his head. He turned to Jerilyn and spoke with weary resignation. “Sweet girl, what have you been up to?”

Jerilyn put her hand over her mouth, swallowed hard, and then let her hand drop. “Daddy. I saw that warning letter. You’re going to lose your job. I had to do something. You can’t keep on like this.”

Tori had never seen a man so shamed as Butch Doolin was right then. He hung his head. “Sweet girl, I’m so sorry. So damn sorry. I don’t know what to do, how to keep going. Without your mother, it all seems so pointless.” His big shoulders shook.

Jerilyn would have gone to him. But Tori’s dad stopped her. He tipped his head back the way they had come. “You two go ahead,” he said low. “Let me talk to him for a while.” He tossed Tori the keys to the rental car. “I’ll call you …”

Tori took Jerilyn’s hand and led her back out through the small, dim living room. They returned to Tori’s house to wait. Time crawled by. Tori offered dinner, but Jerilyn only shook her head.

Finally, at a little after seven, Tori’s dad called for them to come and get him. Sherwood Jones was waiting for them out in front when they got to Jerilyn’s again.

Jerilyn jumped out. “My dad? Is he …?”

Tori got out, too, and came around to join them on the cracked sidewalk.

“Your dad is okay. And I think he’s going to be a lot better, Jerilyn,” Tori’s dad said. “I think he’s ready to get help. We talked for a long time. He poured out all the booze in the house and he’ll be going to regular AA meetings. Plus I’ve given him the names of a few good counselors he can choose from, as well as a local grief recovery group. And he has my number. I’m always available to him if he needs me.” He gave Jerilyn a card. “And I’m available for you, as well. You can call me here, directly, if there’s anything you want to ask me. And especially if you find yourself worried about him again.”

“You really think he’s going to get better?”

“I do. Sincerely. It’s not going to be easy, but I think you’ll see a definite improvement now.”

Jerilyn let out a low cry and grabbed Tori’s father in a hug. “Thank you, oh, thank you.”

He hugged her back. “Call me if you need help. I mean that.”

Then Tori offered Jerilyn that dinner she hadn’t accepted before, but she was eager to go in, to talk to her dad. She grabbed Tori close, quickly let her go and turned for the house.

Tori remembered the picnic tomorrow. “Wait. I almost forgot. You’re invited to a picnic at the Hopping H tomorrow.”

“Will CJ be there?” The sad dark eyes were suddenly brighter.

“Yeah. But I’m sure he’ll understand, if you’d rather—”

Jerilyn put up a hand. “Please. I want to go. My bike’s at your house. Can you pick me up?”

Tori named a time and Jerilyn said she would be ready.

As Tori and her dad got back in the rental, she offered, “Hungry?”

Her dad shook his head. “Butch gave me a sandwich. And I need to get to Bozeman. There’s a flight to Denver at ten to nine.”

They drove back to Tori’s house.

“That’s one shiny SUV,” her dad said when he pulled to a stop behind the expensive vehicle. “And there’s a man on your porch.”

Tori glanced over and saw Connor sitting on her top step, wearing pricey jeans, expensive boots and a dark-colored knit shirt. The sight of him caused her heart to do a happy somersault inside her chest. Which was ridiculous. And physically impossible. “It’s Connor. He’s … a friend,” she said, sounding absurdly breathless. Connor rose and came down the steps. She added, “I’ll introduce you to him, Dad.”

Connor was already at her side door. She rolled her window down. He was smiling. But his eyes were cool. Maybe he wasn’t all that happy about watching her drive up with a strange man.

“Hey,” he said. “I got worried about you.”

“Connor, this is my father, Dr. Sherwood Jones.”

Suddenly, his dark eyes had warmth in them again. “Dr. Jones. Hello.”

Her dad stuck his arm across the seat. “Good to meet you, Connor.” Connor put out his hand, too. Tori leaned out of the way so they could shake.

Then Sherwood gunned the engine. “I hate to run off. But I have to get a move on or I’ll miss that last flight. And while your stepmother is a very understanding woman, she insists I save Sundays for her and the boys.”

Tori leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.”

“Kiss Lucille and hug my brothers for me.”

“Will do.”

Connor opened her door for her and she got out. With a final wave, Tori’s dad drove off.

She felt Connor’s hand settle at her waist. A little thrill went through her at the contact. She chided him, “I said I would call.”

“I should be more patient, I know.”

“Yes, you should. Especially considering that we’ve only had one date.”

“Two, if you count tomorrow.”

She laughed. “It’s not tomorrow yet.” And then she confessed, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” He pulled her closer to his side. “What was that all about?”

She looked up into those beautiful eyes of his and wanted to trust him—even if he was a shark. “I’m starving.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?”

“Probably. But right now, I want to eat.”

“You want to go out?”

“You know, you’re sneaking in a third date on me and we haven’t even gotten through the second one yet.”

“It’s true. That’s exactly what I’m doing. We could go to—”

She didn’t let him finish. “No. I’ve got some stuffed shells in the fridge. And I’ll make a salad. You want pasta?”

“I ate with CJ. But if you twisted my arm, I’d have a little something.”

“Jerilyn will be coming with us tomorrow.”

“Terrific. I wasn’t looking forward to telling CJ otherwise.”

They went up the walk together, circling Jerilyn’s bike when they got to it. Tori made a mental note to take it up to the porch before she went to bed.

Inside, Connor pushed the front door shut behind them and caught her hand when she would have headed straight for the kitchen.

“Wait a minute …” His warm, strong arms came around her.

“Oh, Connor …”

“Shh.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

It was a beautiful kiss. Slow, lazy, gradually deepening. His arms felt so good around her and her body seemed to hum in response to him, as if she were somehow tuned to him—to his touch, to his strong body pressed so close to hers, to his lips that were doing magical things to hers. Even to the scent of him, which was clean and so manly. He tasted of mint. And of heat. She never wanted to pull away.

But she did. “Dinner. I mean it.”

In the kitchen, she warmed up the giant herb-and-cheese stuffed pasta shells and put a salad together. He ate two shells and two pieces of garlic bread. She sat across from him at her breakfast nook table and couldn’t believe how comfortable it felt having him there.

Comfortable. And kind of thrilling. Both at the same time.

Was that good?

Or just plain dangerous? The last thing she needed was to fall for Connor McFarlane, who would wreak havoc up at the resort, cause people to lose their livelihoods—and then go back east before the first snow.

“Does Melanie know you’re planning to take over the resort?”

He set down his fork. “The shells were really good. And who says I’m planning to take over the resort?”

“Well, if you were—and she didn’t know—that might not be such a great thing for your relationship with her, that you might be doing something that affects her community and you haven’t even bothered to tell her. I mean, if you’re not going tell me, you at least should tell her what you’re up to, don’t you think?”

He had picked up his water glass. But he set it down without taking a drink. “Yes,” he said blandly. “I suppose, if I were planning a buyout of the resort, that maybe I ought to tell my sister what I have in mind.”

“Will you, then? Will you tell her?”

He only gazed at her, his face a mask, unreadable.

Suddenly, she was furious with him. But why?

Self-preservation, maybe. She could still feel the warm, exciting pressure of his lips on hers, still remember the thrill of his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Really, she was much too attracted for her own peace of mind.

She said, too softly, “You want me to tell you what happened this afternoon, to trust you with something that’s private to someone I care about, but you won’t even tell me honestly whether you’re thinking of buying out the resort or not.”

He took his napkin from his lap, wiped his mouth, and slid it in beside his plate. “All right, Tori.”

“All right, what?”

“I can see this is an ultimatum.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face, clear in your voice.”

“Look. The word is out that you’re sniffing around the resort. People aren’t blind around here. And if I’m going to be spending more time with you, I want to know the truth. I can live with this thing between us ending when the fall comes. But I can’t live with you lying to me.”

“I haven’t lied to you.”

“By omission, yes. You have. I want to know for certain. I need to know—at least, I do if we’re going to keep dating.”

“Why do you need to know? What possible good will the information do? “

She considered his question. And she answered truthfully. “It’s about honesty, Connor. It’s about basic trust. Are you hoping to buy out the resort, yes or no?”

A silence. A long one. And then, finally, “I would need to know ahead of time that you would keep what I tell you to yourself.”

“Uh-uh. No way. Is there some reason it has to be a secret—especially considering that everybody already knows anyway? I mean, come on. You talk about how you want to change things in your life, with your son. With your sister. Maybe being straight in your business dealings wouldn’t be such a bad idea, either. I’m not saying you have to tell me all the diabolical details of your takeover plan. I’m just saying why deny what you’re after when everyone knows your denial is a big, fat lie anyway?”

He arched a brow. “Diabolical?”

She waved a hand. “Sorry. That was a little over the top. But still, you know what I mean.”

He refused to give in. “As a rule, it’s not a good idea to show your hand, even if the player across from you already knows you have aces.”