Teresa Southwick - McFarlane's Perfect Bride / Taming the Montana Millionaire - McFarlane's Perfect Bride

And the girl, Jerilyn.

Jerilyn seemed like a kind-hearted person. And she was certainly polite and respectful of adults. But still, he’d better ask around, find out for certain she was really okay.

Being a full-time father was a challenge. You couldn’t just tell a kid to get with the program or get out, like you could an employee. The cold fact was that Connor’s life had been a damn sight simpler before the divorce, when CJ had been Jennifer’s responsibility and Connor was free to wheel and deal around the clock.

It had been Jennifer’s idea that he should take the boy to live with him for the summer, leaving her free to float around the Mediterranean on a luxury yacht with her new shipping magnate boyfriend. Connor might have refused. But he had felt obligated to spend some time with his son. Yes, it was probably too little too late. But CJ really needed guidance now and Connor was determined to try to provide it.

Beside him, the schoolteacher shifted in her chair. The movement reminded him that he couldn’t avoid facing her forever—and that to keep staring off into space while she was sitting right next to him was borderline rude.

He turned to her.

Those hazel eyes were waiting. A slight, knowing smile tipped the corners of her mouth and he realized she’d been watching him.

“What?” he demanded, knowing he sounded as surly as CJ did most of the time.

She only shrugged, a delicate movement of one slim shoulder.

“All right,” he said. “It’s like this. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you I’m sorry for my behavior Thursday afternoon. I wanted to be smooth about it, you know?”

Damn. What was the matter with him? Had he actually just said out loud that he wanted to be smooth?

Apparently, he had, because she repeated, “Smooth, huh?”

“You’re grinning,” he accused.

She tipped her head to the side. “You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re embarrassed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “A McFarlane is never cute and very rarely embarrassed.”

She laughed then, a full-throated, musical sound.

He heard himself say, “You’ve got a great laugh.”

Her laughter faded as quickly as it had come. She tipped her strawberry-blond head the other way and said softly, “Your apology is accepted. I know you must have been worried sick.”

He answered honestly, “Yeah. I was.” And then he actually confessed, “Sometimes, lately, I wonder where my son went—and I don’t only mean when he disappears on his skateboard and I don’t know where to find him.”

“Teenagers can be a challenge.”

“It’s more than that. You should have known him before …” He let the sentence die unfinished. This woman did not need to hear about his broken marriage.

“It will work out,” she said. “Just give it time.”

He chuckled low. “Is that a promise?”

“Let’s call it a professional assessment. I deal with kids his age nine months out of the year and I can spot the ones who are just going through a tough phase. CJ’s one of those.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And it’s good that you’re spending time with him.”

“I hope you’re right. He mostly behaves like he wishes I would get lost and stay that way.”

“Don’t believe that. He needs you. Maybe he can’t— or doesn’t know how to—show you. But it matters to him, that you’re around and you care.”

Another long moment passed. He looked into those big eyes and she gazed back at him. Finally, he said, “Thanks. I appreciate a little reassurance.”

“Anytime.”

He leaned a little closer to her, got a whiff of her fresh, citrusy perfume. And it suddenly occurred to him that she would be the one to tell him all about Jerilyn. And he did need to know more about the girl, since CJ seemed so gone on her. “I’ve got a great idea.”

The hazel eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yeah. Dinner. You and me. This coming Friday.”

She seemed to realize she’d let him get too close and sat back away from him. “Oh. No, really—”

“Yeah. Really. I promise not to yell or say rude things.”

“Bad idea. Seriously. Bad.”

“What’s bad about it?”

She considered for a moment. “Okay, bad isn’t the right word. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Call it … instinct.”

He laughed. “Your instincts tell you not to go out with me? “

“Yeah. They do.”

Should he have been discouraged? He wasn’t. He saw the flush of color on her smooth cheeks and knew he could change her mind. “Come on. Take a chance. Friday night, the Gallatin Room right here at the resort. I’ve heard the food’s pretty good.”

She laughed again, a softer laugh than the one before, but no less warm, no less musical. “You high-powered types don’t take no for an answer.”

“So say yes.”

Her gaze slid away—and then came back to meet his.

He pressed the advantage. “It’s only dinner. What can it hurt?”

Something happened in her eyes. A decision. In his favor. “Good point.” She gave him a nod.

“A yes,” he said, and felt absurdly triumphant. “You just said yes.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and then shifted up again, to his eyes. “You remember where I live?”

“I’ll never forget.”

“Seven-thirty.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You’re going out with Connor McFarlane?” Allaire asked in complete disbelief. “Tell me you’re joking.” She leaned close across the lacy tablecloth. It was Monday at noon. They were having their regular girls-only lunch at the Tottering Teapot on Main Street. DJ was home with Alex so Allaire could have a little time for herself.

The Teapot was famous for really good vegetarian sandwiches and an endless variety of teas, both caffeinated and herbal. All the tables had lace cloths and the food was served on mismatched thrift-store china. Not many men in town ate at the Teapot, but the women loved it.

“Not joking. I’m having dinner with him Friday night.” Tori kept her voice low. No reason everyone and their sister needed to hear this conversation.

Allaire demanded, “Why ask for trouble?”

“Because I kind of like him. He can be really charming when he’s not terrified something’s happened to his son.”

“He’s a shark. He’s trying to take over the resort.”

“It’s just a rumor. You said so yourself.”

“Watch. Wait. You’ll see it’s more that a rumor.”

“Doesn’t matter. I like him and I’m going out with him—and will you stop? It’s only a date. Not a lifetime commitment.”

Allaire pursed her lips in an expression of serious distaste. “You like him a lot. I can see it in your eyes.”

“In my eyes? Oh, please.”

Allaire leaned even closer. “Yep. Right there.” She aimed her index and middle fingers directly at Tori and sighted down them. “I can see it. You’ve got a thing for Mr. Bigshot McFarlane.”

Tori waved a hand. “Stop worrying. I’ll have a nice dinner and some good conversation. That’s all, nothing more.”

Allaire made a scoffing sound, but had to quell the rest of the lecture because Haley Anderson came in. In her mid-twenties, Haley went to college part-time and worked at the Hitching Post down the street, a local bar and also a town landmark. She spotted them and Tori waved her over.

“Good news.” Haley was beaming. As a rule, she wasn’t the beaming type. She’d had a rough time of it, raising her two younger siblings after their parents died. But today, her smile lit up the whole restaurant.

Allaire guessed, “You found a place.”

Haley beamed wider. “The price is right and it’s just down the street.”