Cathy Gillen - Honeymoon For Hire

Dillon sampled a Mexican meatball and decided to play dumb. “You mean living under the same roof?” he asked, wondering for the thousandth time why he’d come to the backyard social. Not that he minded the company or the food; he just wasn’t used to having the details of his private life open to public discussion. Hayley had been right. They were the talk of the entire neighborhood.

“I mean making whoopee,” Bob corrected. “You know. The ultimate act.”

Dillon wondered if he could be convicted for his thoughts. In his thoughts he and Hayley had made love plenty of times.

Hal left the grill to join the group of men sampling the array of hors d’oeuvres. “What’s the powwow about, guys?”

“We were just talking about Dillon’s housekeeper,” Bob confided with a look behind him to make sure none of the women—most of whom were busy in Carol’s kitchen—was within earshot. “I personally find it hard to believe that Hayley is just Dillon’s housekeeper.”

“What gives you guys the idea I’d want a live-in mistress?” Dillon challenged them all casually. He’d always shied away from that. Too many complications. Too much potential for domestic hassles, none of which he found attractive.

“Come on!” Bob said. “A gorgeous woman like that! Who wouldn’t want to go to bed with her!”

True, Dillon thought. Hayley was a constant temptation. Everything she wore, everything she did or said, no matter how subtle or ordinary, prompted endless yearning and fantasizing on his part.

“Sounds like she’s angling for more than a housekeeping job to me,” Bob remarked, helping himself to another beer from the washtub full of ice. “Sounds like she’s auditioning for a position as your wife.”

Chuck grinned at Bob. “You only wish your wife looked like that. Who cares if she doesn’t cook?”

“Dillon sure doesn’t!” All the guys laughed.

Turning back to Dillon, Bob remarked, “Sorry if I’ve been ribbing you. I guess I’m just envious of the setup you’ve got. A gorgeous young woman to take care of you and see to your every need without the complications of marriage.”

The only problem was, Dillon thought, she wasn’t seeing to his every need. Even if she was fueling his every fantasy.

“What you’ve got going for you, Dillon,” Bob continued, “is every guy’s fantasy.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it made all right,” Dillon said. He had no outlet for his passion. And yet he knew instinctively, even if Hayley didn’t, how great it would be if the two of them ever did get together.

“Not necessarily,” Hal disagreed. “I mean, she could fall in love with somebody else and pack up and leave Dillon at any time, so there’s no security in that.”

“True,” Chuck agreed.

The idea of Hayley packing up and walking out on him made Dillon’s throat burn more than the cayenne pepper in the Mexican meatballs. “I don’t think so,” Dillon disagreed shortly.

Everyone turned to look at him. He shifted uncomfortably. “She was really in love with Hank,” he defended her objectively. “I don’t think she’s looking to replace him with anyone else.”

“Maybe not,” Hal sighed. “But face it. Guys are going to be hitting on her night and day, once word gets out that she’s single and you’re not making any permanent claim on her. The only reason the single guys in the community haven’t already approached her is everyone thought—well, it looked like—we just assumed the two of you were married or at least—”

“Cohabitating,” Chuck supplied tactfully.

Dillon sent his brother-in-law a dark look.

Chuck shrugged. “Sorry, Dillon. You know I don’t mean anything by it but the guys are right. Hayley is gorgeous and you’ve got a heck of a reputation as a ladies’ man. Of course, now everyone knows you’ve got no intention of marrying her, the guys are going to be lining up at your door, trying to get her to go out with them.”

Just the thought of Hayley going out with someone else made Dillon’s gut tighten. “Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “I never said she was up for grabs.”

“Aha! I told you guys! They are—”

“What I mean is, she’s got a lot left to do on the house,” Dillon managed. A whole year’s worth. And in a whole year, who knew what might happen between them? “Decorating, unpacking, overseeing repairs.”

“Yeah, Nellie told me she’d torn holy hell out of that house,” Bob sympathized.

And she had yet to begin to put it back together again, Dillon thought. Except for his den and both their bedrooms, the place was a wreck.

“Even so, she must have some time off,” Hal said.

“Why not fix her up if you’re not interested?” Chuck asked. “A woman that nice shouldn’t be alone.”

Dillon turned to his brother-in-law and stifled the urge to shoot him. “You’re a big help, Chuck,” he said dryly. “And the reason I’m not fixing her up is ’cause she’s still vulnerable.”

“She doesn’t look that vulnerable to me. In fact, she doesn’t seem to be grieving much at all,” Hal said thoughtfully.

“Why should she be, when she’s got Dillon to keep her warm nights?” Bob joked.

The backyard echoed with raucous male laughter.

“Admit it, Dillon,” Bob continued, slapping him on the back, “you’ve got it made in the shade!”

* * *

“HOW COULD YOU have done that to me?” Hayley demanded, the moment they’d returned to the house and she’d put Christine to bed.

Baffled by her obvious pique with him, Dillon followed her down the upstairs hall to her bedroom. “Done what?”

Hayley planted both hands on her hips and whirled to face him. “Marge’s husband told her verbatim what you men were laughing and talking about with such hilarity just before dinner.”

Dillon uttered a string of swear words as he recalled all the bad jokes that had been made. Worse, he’d reveled in the fact he was the envy of every man there. “I don’t get it,” he said to no one in particular. “Why would she do something like that?”

“Why would she do something like that? What about you? Besides, she wanted to know what everyone else there wanted to know!” Bright spots of color appeared in Hayley’s cheeks.

“Which is?”

“If we’re sleeping together!”

Dillon watched as Hayley hauled a suitcase off the shelf in her closet, marched to the bed and flung it open. “I told the guys we weren’t,” he said flatly.

“With a glint in your eye and a smile on your face!”

“So sue me for laughing at those guys! It was funny!” Dillon defended himself hotly. Hayley knew how conventional the residents of this suburban Connecticut community were. Hell, he had even joked about it before they went to the party.

“Well, I’m not laughing,” she informed him between tightly gritted teeth. Hayley stalked to her dresser drawer and pulled out a handful of some of the most filmy, lacy lingerie Dillon had ever seen in his life. Shoulders back, she flung her hair out of her face.

Dillon bit down on a string of curse words. It was too late to take back all the kidding around that he’d done. The most he could do was manage a save. And, judging from the thundercloud looks she was giving him, that looked like it was going to be one hell of a task. “Hayley, come on,” he coaxed softly, stepping as near to her bed as he dared. “Be reasonable here. I said I’m sorry.”

She whirled on him. For a moment he thought she was going to try to deck him. Instead she planted her balled-up fists on her slender hips. “Sorry doesn’t cut it here, Dillon. We had one chance to be accepted in this neighborhood. One. And you blew it with your macho antics.” She’d hoped, foolishly it now seemed, they could be friends. Even more than friends.