The CEO's Unexpected Proposal

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 physical 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.

“You’re part-time but you have your own office?”

“Basically I’m an independent contractor. This room is in the older part of the building with thick walls, so it’s perfect for music therapy. I coordinate my sessions with the guidance counselor and I also sub when the music teacher’s sick.”

“You’re one busy lady—private clients, this and helping your aunt with the B and B.”

“I like to keep busy. That keeps me out of trouble.”

He had a feeling Mikala didn’t get into trouble very often. He found himself way too curious about how she lived her life. “Have you ever been in trouble?”

“You mean besides the night of the prom?”

“Yes.”

She looked over to her desk as if the subject made her uncomfortable, as if in some way his question had something to do with them. “I don’t look for trouble, Dawson. I keep my life uncomplicated.”

Had it always been that way? Because of what had happened on prom night? In high school they’d seemed to have an undeniable bond. But they’d both backed away from it … until the night he’d rescued her. Had she had lovers the past fifteen years? Many? All of that was too personal to ask. After all, they really didn’t know each other now.

Then why did it feel as if they did?

Dropping the subject because he saw she wanted to, he remarked, “Luke’s always gravitated toward music, though I don’t know why.”

“Music is a great way for kids to express themselves. It stimulates and relaxes—” She stopped and smiled. “Don’t get me started. I like what I do.”

“So why music therapy instead of teaching?”

Quiet for a few moments, Mikala seemed to hesitate. Dawson guessed she didn’t reveal her innermost thoughts and motives to many people. She hadn’t changed completely from the quiet, deep-thinking girl she’d been.

Finally she explained, “I’d planned to teach. But then one of my professors in college—she was a violinist—had a friend who was in an accident and fell into a coma. Dorothy visited every day. She played her violin for her. But then she got to thinking about important events in her friend’s life. She found the music that had been played at Cheryl’s wedding and played the song Cheryl and her husband had danced to. And Cheryl woke up! Dorothy had been so excited that she told me about it. Was it coincidence she woke up during that song? No one will ever know. But the hope that idea carried was amazing. I think I decided that day I wanted to do more than just teach music.”

Dawson witnessed the glistening emotion in Mikala’s eyes that the story brought up in her.

It was only there a short time, though, as she crossed to her desk and fiddled with the corner of a paper on her blotter. “I seem to remember you played the guitar. Do you still?”

That guitar had been packed away for a long time. “I haven’t picked it up in years.”

“Why not?”

“No time.”

At that she crinkled her nose.

Moving close enough to touch her, he asked, “What was that for?”

“We make time for what we want to make time for.”

He didn’t agree with that. “Sometimes there are demands on our time and we can’t do what we want.”

“I don’t know, Dawson. We all prioritize. You said you were working long hours and didn’t spend much time with Luke, but when you did, you enjoyed it. So what kept you from spending more time with him? I mean, why didn’t you make him a priority?”

He couldn’t tell if Mikala specifically meant to or not, but she was getting under his skin. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the years-old attraction he was experiencing toward her or the way she was probing. Instinctively he knew she wouldn’t accept “work” as an answer, so he really thought about what she’d asked.

He gave an honest answer that caused his gut to burn. “I didn’t like the strain between me and Kelly that last year before she died.” He shook his head. “When I came into the house, she left.” That was hard to admit to anyone, especially Mikala. But he’d already realized she wouldn’t accept anything less than complete honesty.

To his relief she didn’t ask more questions about his marriage. “Did you do things together as a family?”

Dawson didn’t know if Mikala the therapist was asking, or Mikala the friend. He gave a shrug. “Not usually. I drove Luke to his Little League games. Kelly took him to his music lessons. I played catch with him in the backyard. She took him on play dates.”

“That happens with a lot of parents,” Mikala said, seeming to understand.

He didn’t feel any judgment from her and that made him feel less defensive. “I wish I knew how to get Luke looking forward to moving here.”

“Does he like animals? Has he ever asked for a pet, a dog, maybe?”

He took another step closer to Mikala. “You really do know kids.”

She laughed, a sound that resonated with him, that made his heart ache a little. Because he hadn’t known much laughter in the past two years.

“I’m good at what I do, Dawson. Besides, I get around. I often babysit for Clay and Celeste’s little girl, Abby.”

“Clay has emailed me photos and video clips. She’s a charmer.”

“Yes, she is.”

He noticed a wistfulness in Mikala’s voice. Did she want children of her own? Did she feel a biological clock ticking? Why hadn’t she married before now?

Veering away from that train of thought, he said, “I’m considering getting Luke a dog. It’s a good idea after we settle in. Luke’s old enough now to be responsible.”

“Did you have pets?” she asked with a smile.

Dawson wished he’d had a pet. Maybe his house wouldn’t have seemed so cold. “No, no pets. Dad was always at the mill. Mom involved herself in clubs and charity work. She raised money for a lot of causes.”

“As an only child, you must have had their full attention.”

He gave an offhanded laugh. “Yep, full attention.” He wasn’t going to say more. After all, Mikala didn’t have to know everything about him in order to help his son. No need at all. She didn’t need to know that his parents’ marriage had been cold, that they’d seemed to live separate lives, that they had seemed to stay together for convenience sake, for his sake or maybe for the sake of their finances.

This room seemed to magnify everything they were saying to each other, making it important. He turned the tables on her. “Didn’t your aunt dote on you?”

A guarded look came into Mikala’s eyes, and he recognized it as one she’d used even as a teenager.

“She did.” Mikala said simply.

“And your mom became a famous fashion designer who just visited on weekends?”

“Not that often,” Mikala offered nonchalantly. “When she had time.”

“When did she leave Miners Bluff?”

“Dawson, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ve been answering your questions,” he reminded her.

“That’s different! I mean, I need to know background information in order to help Luke.”

“All of your questions had to do with background information?” He didn’t know why he was pushing this, but he was.

He saw the flush steal over her face, and he knew he’d hit the mark. She was interested in his life, just as he was interested in hers.

“Maybe not all,” she admitted. “After all, we’re sort of catching up.”

Yes, they were. “There’s a motto my parents lived by—appearances count. We all lived by it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

What did it matter if he told her now? “What was private stayed private. We pretended everything was all right, even when it wasn’t. I have a feeling you might have done a lot of that, too.”

She didn’t say whether he was right or whether he was wrong. But there was something in the way the corner of her mouth quivered a little, in the way she nervously pushed her hair behind her ear that told him he’d hit a sore point for her, too. Mikala pretended her mother’s desertion didn’t matter. Maybe that’s why she’d kept a certain distance from everyone. Maybe that’s why her friendliness and maybe even her compassion were defenses. She got close to her friends, but didn’t let her friends get too close to her.

Except there hadn’t been any distance between them the night of prom, and there hadn’t been distance between them for the few minutes they’d danced the night of the reunion. Now he wasn’t sure what was happening with her. Maybe they were just catching up, but the connection he felt to her unnerved him.

Cutting off whatever was going on, he said, “I’d better get to the office or I’ll be late for my appointment.”

At first he thought Mikala looked hurt he’d broken off the conversation so abruptly. But then that flicker of emotion was gone and she looked so … neutral … he wondered if he’d glimpsed it at all.

“You go on,” she said amiably. “I brought my flash drive with some files I need to load on the computer. I’ll be waiting in the office for you when you finish. Philip doesn’t waste time. He’ll probably have you in and out of there in fifteen minutes unless you have a lot of questions.”

“I’ve already spoken with him on the phone. You’re right. He’s crisp, but thorough. I’ll see you in a little while.”

He left Mikala in the music room, thinking about his connection with her that seemed to defy time.

Forty-five minutes later, Mikala wondered how to make the awkwardness between her and Dawson dissipate. They’d driven back to the B and B in his luxury SUV, listening to music he’d programmed in. She wondered about the life he’d led in Phoenix. From his supple leather jacket to his low Italian boots, she could tell he was used to the finer things in life.

As they stood in the kitchen, their history and unspoken bond vibrating between them, Mikala gestured at the counter. “Help yourself to anything you want in the refrigerator or the cookie jar. This will be your home for a while.”

“Not until I come back. I feel like I’m taking advantage of your aunt by staying in that suite tonight. I could just sleep on the sofa—then she wouldn’t have to change the bed.”

“We might not even register any guests between now and the fifteenth. Don’t worry about it, Dawson. Be comfortable tonight.”

They were talking about beds and that wasn’t any more comfortable than anything else.

There was a sudden knock on the kitchen door. Dawson asked, “Expecting someone?”

“No, but I do have a session in about an hour. Maybe my client had the time wrong.” But when she opened the door, she smiled widely.

Celeste Sullivan stood there with her almost-four-year-old daughter, Abby, holding her hand. Abby immediately held her arms up to Mikala for a hug.

“Hi, honey. What an unexpected surprise!”

Celeste laughed. “Abby was restless and Clay won’t be back until late tonight, so we thought we’d come for a visit. If it’s a bad time, we’ll go downtown to the library instead.”

“No! Come on in. Wait until you see who’s here.”

When Celeste came in, she spotted Dawson and immediately crossed to him to give him a hug. “It’s good to see you again! Clay said you might be moving back here. Is that official?”

“It will be in a couple of weeks. I just came up to find a place to stay and to register Luke at school.”

“Where are you going to be staying?”

“Right here. Aunt Anna says I’ll be doing her a favor using one of her suites, so Luke and I will be on the third floor.”

Abby came over to stand beside her mother and looked up at Dawson.

He crouched down to her level. “Hi, there. Your daddy has emailed me pictures of you and you look even prettier in person.”

Mikala’s heart warmed at Dawson’s tone. He obviously knew how to talk to kids.

“I’m Dawson,” he said, extending his hand out to her.

She ceremoniously shook it. “I’m Abby.”

“It’s official. We’ve met.” He rose to his feet. “And now I have to give my dad a call and check on my son,” he said to Celeste and Mikala. “If there are any problems, I’ll have to drive back tonight.”

It was quite evident that Dawson was putting Luke first, and Mikala admired him for doing that. Sometimes it was really difficult for a parent to put aside his own concerns for his child’s.

Dawson said to Celeste, “I hope I’ll be seeing you after we get settled in. It will be nice to talk to Clay face-to-face instead of on the phone.”

“I’m sure he’s looking forward to that, too. And Zack. He and Jenny are on their honeymoon now but should be back by the time you move here.”

“Sounds good,” Dawson agreed, his gaze meeting Mikala’s. She knew what he was thinking. He wouldn’t be socializing much with old friends like Clay Sullivan and Zack Decker if his problems with Luke didn’t settle down.

Once Dawson had left the kitchen, Abby ran over to the cookie jar and looked up at it. “Can I have one, Mommy?”

“Sure, if you have a glass of milk to go with it.”

Abby was amenable to that, so Mikala took milk from the refrigerator and poured her a glass, made tea for herself and Celeste.

When they were all seated at the table enjoying their snacks, Celeste asked Mikala, “What was that look you gave Dawson before he left to go upstairs?”

“What look?”

“I’m not sure. Like the two of you have a secret. I know he’s moving back here so you can treat Luke. Clay told me.”

“You know I can’t talk about that.”

“I know.” Celeste waited a couple of beats, then nonchalantly prompted, “There were rumors back in high school about the two of you.”

“What kind of rumors?” Mikala was absolutely surprised. She’d never given anyone reason to start a rumor about her and Dawson.

“There was talk that Dawson was going to ask you to the prom.”

“Why didn’t I ever hear about it?”

“Because what’s-his-name asked you.”

“What’s-his-name only asked me because all the popular girls were taken.”

“Mikala! You never did have a true image of yourself back then. You were pretty but quiet, sometimes even more than I was.”

Celeste had always been the opposite of her twin sister, Zoie, who had been an extreme extrovert. That’s why Zoie had initially caught Clay’s eye, even marrying him after high school. Clay hadn’t realized until after his divorce from Zoie that Celeste and he were much more suited for each other—especially since Celeste had been Abby’s surrogate mother. After the reunion last summer their bond and chemistry had transformed into love, and they became a family.

Celeste had been quiet in high school, but in a different way than Mikala. Mikala had stood her ground when she’d had to. She’d always championed the underdog. If she’d kept to herself for the most part, that was because she’d felt so different from her other classmates who had moms and dads, a different kind of family than she did. Only with her small circle of friends had she felt more secure.