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

“We’re talking about people’s lives, Connor, not a card game.”

He pushed back his chair and stood. “This conversation is going nowhere.”

She knew he was right. They were arguing in circles. She said gently, “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Good night.” His voice was soft, his eyes troubled.

“Good night, Connor.”

He went out through the great room. She heard the front door open and close. And a minute or two after that, she heard the SUV start up and drive away.

She sat there at the table for a long time after he left her, feeling sad and weepy—but refusing to cry. Connor McFarlane was not the man for her. She had to accept that. It was better that he had left, that his thing between them went no further. Getting into it with him would only lead to hurt and heartbreak.

Alone at the table, she nodded to herself and swallowed down the lump of tears that clogged her throat. Yes. Really. It was better that he was gone.

Chapter Five

Connor was halfway back to his rented house, feeling like crap, trying to come to grips with the fact that his enjoyable summer with Tori Jones was over before it had even begun, when he realized that he’d left her without canceling their plans for tomorrow.

At the house, after spending a few minutes in CJ’s room, watching him play his endless video game, he went to his own room. He took a shower and sat in front of the television, channel-surfing with the sound down, paying very little attention to the images that flashed in front of his eyes.

He kept reliving what it felt like to hold her in his arms. He’d been really looking forward to doing that again, and frequently. And he’d done some serious fantasizing over what it was going to be like the first time they made love. It would probably be really good, if the chemistry between them was any indication.

Maybe she would call and tell him formally that she wouldn’t be coming to the picnic tomorrow. Maybe he ought to call her.

But the phone didn’t ring. And he decided it would be easier just to go ahead and proceed as planned tomorrow. At worst, she would call it off when he and CJ came to pick her and Jerilyn up. He could live with that.

And if she decided to go through with it, well, he could stand that, too. It would be awkward, yes, but at least CJ would be happy to have some time with the girl he liked.

In the morning, Connor had breakfast with CJ and then went to his study to look over some paperwork from the main office. The phone rang at eleven. He jumped at the sound.

But it was only his father, making the usual demands, that he come back to Philly immediately, to stay. That, if he insisted on doing the resort deal, he get on it and get it over with.

Connor made noncommittal noises and told his dad to give his mother his love.

An hour later, he and CJ left the house.

“You okay, Dad?” CJ asked him as they drove the quiet Sunday streets on the way to Tori’s house.

Connor almost ran a red light. It was the first time in the past year or so that his son had expressed the slightest interest in him or anything he might be doing or thinking.

It was a clear sign that he was actually making progress with the boy. He should have been ecstatic.

And he was. But the thrill was muted by the knowledge that whatever progress he was making with CJ was mostly due to the excellent advice of a certain strawberry-blonde schoolteacher. And then there was also the possibility that whatever gains he’d made would be lost if Jerilyn was not at Tori’s house when they got there, if Tori had decided to call the afternoon off.

Really, he should have discussed the picnic with her before he walked out on her last night. Or called her later.

But he hadn’t. And now he was stuck with having no clue what would happen when they got to her house.

Bright move, McFarlane.

He pushed his dark thoughts away and sent his son a warm glance. “Thanks, I’m okay.”

“You’re really quiet.”

“Just … thoughtful, I guess.”

At Tori’s house, the bicycle that had been on the front walk the evening before was propped up on the porch. But other than that, everything looked just as it had last night. He still had no clue whether Tori and Jerilyn were coming with them, or not.

CJ jumped out of the car and was halfway up the walk before Connor got out and followed him. It was CJ who rang the doorbell. Connor was just climbing the steps when the door opened.

Tori, in jeans, boots and a cute, snug Western shirt, grinned at CJ. “Right on time.”

Relief, sweet as cool water on a hot day, poured through Connor. They were going. He’d never been so pleased about anything in his life.

Jerilyn, also in jeans, peered over Tori’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey,” CJ replied, his voice cracking on the single syllable. He cleared his throat and said it again. “Hey.”

Tori’s gaze shifted to meet Connor’s. She gave him a careful smile and a nod. He did the same.

“I packed a basket,” she said. “Some cheese and fruit, some whole-wheat crackers. Some juice …”

Jerilyn pulled a face. “All totally healthy,” she added. And she and CJ groaned in unison.

“Ready to go?” Connor asked.

“Yes, we are,” Tori replied, her gaze sliding away from his. “I’ll get the basket and we can be on our way.”

His relief that she wasn’t backing out on him faded. He could see the day stretching endlessly out ahead of them. A day of careful smiles and sliding glances, of unacknowledged tension.

But there was nothing else to do but gut it up and get through it. The muscles in his shoulders knotting, he turned and went back down the steps toward the waiting SUV.

It was a good day, the sky clear and blue, with only a few fluffy white clouds gliding slowly toward the west.

Russ had horses picked out and tacked up for each of them. Connor, who had learned to ride six years before when he opened McFarlane House Louisville at a former horse ranch, got a big palomino mare. Tori got a handsome bay gelding. CJ’s gray seemed calm and steady-natured, as did Jerilyn’s blue roan. Russ, Melanie and Ryan all rode the horses they favored for everyday riding at the Hopping H and at Russ’s original ranch, the Flying J, which abutted the H.

Melanie had pack saddles full of food and drinks. She tucked the stuff Tori had brought in with the rest, and they rode out.

In a wide, rolling pasture dotted with wildflowers, they spread a couple of blankets. Melanie and Tori put out the food. They ate as the hobbled horses cropped the grass nearby.

The kids were finished with lunch in no time. They wandered off to explore, CJ and Jerilyn side by side, Ryan happily trailing along behind.

The grown-ups chatted about casual stuff. Melanie said she and Russ were turning a nice profit with the guest ranch. Russ talked about buying more land. Connor dared to kid him that if he didn’t watch out, he’d become a land baron. Russ laughed and said maybe he would. His easy response pleased Connor. He was making progress healing the early breach with his cowboy brother-in-law.

Tori mentioned some Outward Bound–type program, ROOTS, that a local woman, Haley Anderson, was trying to start up in a storefront in town. Melanie said she was so happy for Haley, to have found the right place for ROOTS at last.

And then Melanie wanted to know if Tori had met Erin Castro, who was new in town and apparently going around asking questions about the Cateses, the Cliftons and the Traubs.

Tori frowned. “No. I haven’t met her.”

Russ said, “Grant told me that woman started in on him at the Hitching Post. She had a thousand and one questions.”

Connor remembered the blonde woman he’d spoken to at the bar at DJ’s. “I met her at the summer kickoff barbecue. She introduced herself.” He described their brief conversation.

Russ grunted. “She’s up to something …”

“But what?” Melanie wondered aloud.

Russ added, “Grant said she has this tattered yellowed newspaper clipping, a picture of some old-time gathering of—”

“Let me guess.” Connor predicted, “The Cateses, the Cliftons and the Traubs.”

“You got it.”

“Maybe she’s writing a tell-all,” Tori suggested lightly. “The secrets of Thunder Canyon, Montana, revealed.”

“She better watch herself,” Russ muttered darkly. “Folks around here don’t like strangers poking in their private business.”

And the conversation moved on.

Connor didn’t say much to Tori. She returned the favor. He didn’t think his sister or her husband even noticed that they kept their distance from each other and avoided eye contact.

He couldn’t help glancing Tori’s way, though, when he thought no one was looking. She was so pretty, strawberry-blond hair shining in the sun, her skin like cream. There was something about her, even beyond her fresh good looks, something that drew him. He couldn’t explain it, and he certainly didn’t understand it. It just was, like the blue sky above, the wide, rolling pasture below.

And it’s going nowhere, so get over it, the voice of wisdom within advised.

The kids wandered in and out of their view, sometimes disappearing into a small stand of pines on a ridge to the northeast, sometimes coming near, but then turning to head off in a different direction before they got too close to the adults. Their laughter and chatter rang out across the rolling field.

Once, when they were all three in sight, near a weathered fence that separated the pasture from the next one over, Melanie got up. “Time to talk a little business.” She set off toward the three by the fence.

“Business?” Tori glanced at Connor—and then apparently caught herself actually looking at him. Her gaze slid away.

Russ, stretched out on his back, with his hat over his eyes, said lazily, “Connor’s decided it’s not a bad idea if CJ does a little honest work this summer.”

Tori sent Connor another swift glance. What? She was surprised that he’d taken her advice.

He gave a curt nod and looked away.

Russ, still with his hat over his eyes, continued, “He and Red agreed that she should make the offer.” According to Melanie, Russ had always called her Red. Even back when she didn’t like it in the least. Now, though, it was his pet name for her.

Melanie had reached the three teenagers. Connor— and Tori, too, he noticed out of the corner of his eye—watched as the scene played out. Melanie spoke.

CJ instantly started shaking his head, backing away. It looked like a no-go.

But then Jerilyn said something. Melanie nodded and offered her hand. The girl took it.

And then CJ spoke up again. Melanie turned to him and said something. He nodded. And Melanie shook his hand.

Ryan shot a fist in the air and they heard him exclaim, “Yes!”

Russ lifted his hat enough to glance toward the scene by the old fence. “Mission accomplished, if you ask me.”

“Looks that way,” Connor agreed. “Your wife is amazing.”

“She certainly is.” Russ spoke with deep satisfaction. Then he put his hat back over his eyes and let his head drop to the blanket again.

Melanie returned to them. Connor thought she looked sort of bemused. “CJ starts tomorrow,” she told him. “Nine to one, Monday through Thursday. I guess we’ll have to take turns driving him out here—Jerilyn, too.”

“Either Gerda or I will do it, no problem.” Connor would slip his housekeeper a little extra for the inconvenience. “So you’ve got two new employees, then?”

“Oh, yes, I do. CJ turned me down flat. But then Jerilyn spoke up and said how she’d love to work at the Hopping H. So I offered her the job.”

Connor could guess the rest. “And then CJ suddenly changed his mind.”

“And it’s great. I can put them both to work, and Ryan will love having them around.” She added, sounding bemused again, “I really do like that girl.”

Connor almost turned to share a glance with Tori, to give her a nod of acknowledgment, since what had just happened was all at her urging. But then he remembered that he and Tori were finished sharing glances.

They were finished, period.

As the day went by, Tori became only more certain that there really was no hope for her and Connor. The picnic at the ranch was just one of those final obligations they both felt duty-bound to fulfill.

By Sunday evening, when Connor pulled the SUV to a stop in front of her house, she was beyond positive. It was done between them, finished. All without ever really getting started.

She tried to remind herself yet again that it was for the best. But somehow it didn’t feel that way in the least.

CJ and Jerilyn jumped out first, but only to load Jerilyn’s bike in the back. They would take it to her house when they dropped her off.

That left Tori and Connor momentarily alone.

She said, each word falsely bright, “Well, thank you. It was a beautiful day.”

“Yeah,” he replied without looking at her. “Great weather.”

“I’ll be seeing you, then.” She leaned on the door.

He turned as the door swung wide and he looked at her. A look that burned her right down to the core. She had the impossible, overwhelming urge to leap across the console and kiss him so hard.

Uh-uh. No way. Not going to happen.

She tore her gaze free of his and got the heck out of there, somehow managing to wave goodbye to Jerilyn and CJ as they put the bike in the back of the SUV.

In the house, feeling totally bereft and hating that she felt that way, she called Allaire. But no one was home. They were probably off at some Traub family Sunday dinner. Tori hung up without leaving a message.

About then, she realized that she’d left her picnic basket in the back of Connor’s SUV. It wasn’t a big deal. She could get it later. Much, much later.

Or maybe he would have CJ drop it by.

It was all just too sad and depressing. She’d finally found a guy who made her heart turn somersaults, and he was a ruthless corporate shark unwilling to be straight with her.

She took a long bath and turned in early.

And at midnight she was still lying there, wide awake, telling herself that she hardly knew Connor. They’d only spent a total of maybe fifteen hours together—if you counted the picnic just that day, when they’d each been doing their level best to pretend the other didn’t exist.

Really, she needed to get over this and move on. She needed to shut her eyes and get some sleep.

But sleep was not in the offing. She kept seeing his face at that last moment before she got out of the SUV, seeing the hunger there, the stark longing for what was never going to happen between them. She kept thinking that maybe she had been too uncompromising.

After all, she knew darn well he was trying to buy out the resort. His confessing the fact in so many words wouldn’t make much difference in the end.

Except that, well, what kind of relationship would they have, if he couldn’t even be honest with her about his real intentions? It all had to start with honesty, and with trust, too. If they didn’t have honesty and trust, they had nothing.

Time crawled by. She tried not to look at her bedside clock. It only reminded her how miserable she was—and how little sleep she was getting.

And then, out of nowhere, at ten after one, the doorbell rang.

At the unexpected sound, her pulse started booming in her ears. And her chest felt so tight, it hurt to breathe. Either it was Connor, unable to wait to tell her he wanted to work it out with her. Or it was some awful disaster that couldn’t be put off till daylight: a fire; Jerilyn with bad news about her dad.

Terrible dread and impossible hope warring for prominence in her heart, Tori yanked on her robe and ran to answer. Breathless, frantic, she pulled the door wide—and when she saw who was on the other side, her pulse thudded all the louder.

Connor.

He stood there on her doorstep in the same jeans and fancy boots he’d worn that afternoon, her picnic basket in his hand, looking exhausted—but determined, too. She realized as she gaped at him that he was the handsomest man she’d ever known.

“You left this in my SUV.” He held out the basket. “And yes, I’m planning to buy the resort.”

Connor waited, his stomach in a knot and his throat locked up tight. He had no idea what would happen next. She just might grab the basket and shut the door in his face.

But no. Those amazing hazel eyes had gone misty. That had to be a good sign, right?

And then she stepped back and tipped her head toward the great room, inviting him in.

He cleared his throat. He felt he owed her … something. A more thorough confession.

What the hell was happening to him? He wished he knew.

He found his voice. “I’ve been walking the floor half the night, thinking about you—” And then it was like a damn bursting. The words came tumbling out of him. “Thinking about how I’ve never met anyone like you and I can’t stand to think it’s over with us when it never even got started. I decided at least fifty times that I would come over here—after which I decided not to, that in the end, I would be leaving when the summer is over, so what was the point, since I know you want more than a summer romance?”

She gazed up at him, her eyes so soft. “Connor.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please come in so that I can shut the door?”

He frowned, wanting—needing—her to be certain about letting him into her house. It was insane. Where had these silly scruples come from? He’d never been troubled by them before. “You’re, uh, sure?”

She only looked at him, still misty-eyed, and slowly nodded her red-gold head.

So he stepped over the threshold. She shut the door behind him and turned the lock. And then she took the picnic basket from him and set it on the narrow entry-area table.

“Come on.” She turned. He followed her through the great room to her cozy kitchen at the back of the house. “Sit down.” She gestured at the table.

He sat, hardly daring to believe he was actually here in her kitchen again, that not only had he come here in the middle of the night, she had answered the door. She had let him in.

Maybe it wasn’t over, after all.

He watched, dumbfounded, as she put water on for the tea she liked and loaded up the coffeemaker for him. She looked more beautiful than ever, he thought, with her hair a little wild, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, wearing a lightweight yellow robe that revealed a lot of sleek bare leg and adorable bare feet with toenails painted the color of a ripe plum.

She pushed the brew button on the coffeemaker and took the chair across from him. “What else?”

“Uh. Excuse me?”

“It seemed as though you had more to say.”

“I did. I do.”

She folded her hands on the tabletop. “I’m listening.”

He raked his fingers back through his hair. “It’s only … I’m sorry, but I can’t give you more than this summer. This, right now, that’s all I’m ready for. I’m not … cut out for anything more.”

Her red-kissed brows drew together and he knew he wasn’t making much sense.

He confessed, “I, well, I was a lousy husband, you know?”

“No. I didn’t know.”

“I was. Just lousy. All that really mattered to me was my work. I wanted to take what my father and grandfather had started and make it more. New, exciting locations, each one-of-a-kind, each a luxury boutique hotel with stylish rooms, signature restaurants, bars and destination spas. I considered marriage and children as no more than something that was expected of me, something I needed to get out of the way so I could focus on my work, on growing the McFarlane House brand. So I fulfilled what I saw as my obligation to acquire a spouse, to procreate. I found a beautiful woman with the right pedigree and I married her.”

“You … you didn’t care for her at all?”

He shrugged. “Looking back, I think I told myself I cared. But really, being brutally honest now, I didn’t care enough. Yes, I told my ex-wife I loved her, but it was just because I knew it was something I was supposed to say. And it’s only by necessity that I’m trying to figure out how to be a halfway decent dad for CJ.”

“But, Connor, you are trying. That’s what matters.”

“No. I’m doing what I have to do, fulfilling my responsibility to my son. Period. I live for my work, and I’m not husband material. I can’t see that changing. I’m just not a family man.”

She caught her lower lip between her even white teeth—and then let it go. “Clearly, it’s not going to do any good to tell you that you’re a better man than you think you are.”

He stuck with the truth, painful as it was to reveal. “I think you want me to be a better man.”

She gazed at him for a long time. And then, finally, she conceded, “Yes. That may be true, to an extent. I would like you to be the best you can be. Tonight, though, I see that you already are a good man. A man capable of honesty. Of trust. And I understand what you’re telling me. I already knew—or at least, I knew the part about how you’re not up for anything long-lasting. We talked about it before, remember?”

“Of course I remember. I remember everything. Every look. Every smile. Every word we said.” He swore low. “I sound like an idiot, some hopeless fool …”

“No. You don’t.” She reached out her hand to him. He met her halfway, in the middle of the table. Palm to palm, they wove their fingers together. “You don’t sound like a fool, not in the least.” Her soft mouth trembled on a smile. “I’m so glad that you’re here. That it’s not over, after all.”

He shoved back his chair and stood. She stood with him. And then, hands still joined, in unison they stepped toward each other around the table. Once she was close enough, he reeled her in. She felt like heaven in his arms.

“No, it’s not over,” he said, staring down into those beautiful misty eyes. “Not yet …”

“Not yet …” she echoed, lifting her mouth to him. He took it. Wrapping her tighter, closer, he kissed her deeply, learning all the sweet, wet surfaces behind her parted lips.

When he lifted his head, it was only to slant it the other way and claim her lips again. He could have stood there in her kitchen, holding her, kissing her, until the sun came up.

But then the kettle whistled and the coffeemaker beeped. He let her go so she could brew her tea and pour his coffee.

They sat across from each other again.

He stared at his untouched mug, at the fragrant curl of steam rising from it. “Jerilyn told CJ what happened Saturday, the crisis with Jerilyn’s father. He said your dad flew in from Denver to help. Jerilyn says she has hope now, that things will be all right.”

“CJ told you what Jerilyn told him?”

“He did.”

“I think I would call that actual communication—and the beginnings of trust, as well.”

“So would I. Due in large part to you, Tori. I’m trying, I really am, to take your advice, to let him know I’m on his side, that he can count on me. I think it just may be working—at least a little.”

“I’m so glad.”

“You haven’t touched your tea.”

She tipped her head to the side the way she always did when she was studying him. “And you aren’t drinking your coffee.”

He confessed, “I’m thinking about holding you in my arms again. And I’m also thinking that if I start kissing you, I won’t want to stop.”

“Would that be … so bad?” Her voice was shy, hesitant. Her eyes were anything but.

“Uh-uh. Not bad at all. It would be really, really good. But I don’t want to rush you into anything you might regret.”

Her smile was full of feminine intent. “How long do you plan to stay here in town?”

“I have to leave Wednesday, for meetings in Philadelphia. But I’ll be back by Friday afternoon.”

Steadily, she held his gaze. “I meant, how long are you planning to be living in town? When will you be leaving for good? “