The Playboy's Baby(15)

“Why not?”

Because he had no desire to open his heart to yet another woman only to find out she considered him nothing more than a rich plaything. “I learned the hard way marriage isn’t for me.”

Yeah, okay, life could get a little lonely every once in a while. Sometimes he craved simple things, like someone to talk to at the end of the day. He learned the hard way that wouldn’t happen for him through a series of relationships that all ended the same way. Him finding out he was being used. Or cheated on. Usually both. Leila Michaels was the last straw. Better simply to stay uninvolved. He found it easier that way. If he didn’t expect anything, he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Of course, all people ever remembered was that he enjoyed being single. The papers called him a playboy. That he owned the only nightclub in town seemed to fan that particular bit of gossip. Whatever. He could care less what the general public thought of him. He knew who he was.

Emma was different. He cared what she thought. For some reason, he didn’t want her thinking the worst of him. All she seemed to remember was the irresponsible kid he’d once been. One way or another, he intended to change her view of him. Or die trying. He wanted her to know there was more to him than what everybody else saw.

“Do you know what it was like to be me growing up?” Dillon turned his head to look at Emma and rinsed the lasagna pan. “To look at the gorgeous cheerleader on my arm and know she only fawned all over me because my family had enough money to buy the entire county? I was a foot taller than damn near everyone and string bean thin, but girls threw themselves at me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew why they were there.”

“Of course, you went along with it.” Emma cocked a brow, her eyes daring him to deny it. “You couldn’t help yourself.”

He shook his head and set the rinsed pan in the second sink. “It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s just the way I was. Young and way too curious for my own good.” He darted a glance at her, unable to help the smile that spread across his mouth. “It was a hell of a lot more fun than I was having by myself and wasting my time on girls used to piss off Pop. Why mess with a good thing?”

“I guess.” Slotting the pan into the dishwasher, she shrugged.

“Except, here I am, twenty-six and still alone.” He shook his head, memories rising like acid in his stomach. “Still being chased by the gold diggers in this town. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

She turned to him, sympathy in her gaze. “Janey told me you were supposed to marry Leila Michaels.”

The one woman who actually made him want a family, then shot those dreams to hell in one flick of her perfectly manicured finger. “Mmm. Then I suppose you also heard it didn’t work out?”

Emma nodded. “What happened?”

He added soap to the dispenser, closed the door, and turned the machine on. Leaning back against the counter, he let out a heavy sigh. “Came home from the bar early one night and found her in bed with one of my bartenders.”

He’d never forget that day. Walking into the house to the sounds of her laughter, mingling with a male voice he instantly recognized. He followed the voices to the bedroom. They were beneath the covers, naked and wrapped around each other.

Emma laid a hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Dillon resisted the urge to take her hands and pull her closer, to lose himself in the disturbing peace he found the few times he’d gotten to hold her. Instead, he lifted a shoulder.

“Live and learn.” He’d never make that mistake again. He eyed Emma. Time to turn the tables on Little Miss Honesty. “So, do you share your sister’s sentiment on men?”

Emma folded her arms and met his challenge head-on. “Depends on the man.”

“You obviously don’t trust me.”

She laughed. “With all the trouble you and Janey got into over the years, can you blame me?” She darted a glance at him, eyes glittering with amusement. “You’re a spoiled brat, Dillon. Always were.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. She had him there. “Was, Em. Was. I’ve grown up a little since the last time you saw me.”

“You sure have.” Frozen in front of him, Emma stared up at him like a deer caught in the headlights—wide-eyed and just this side of stunned. She searched his face, something moving in the depth of her eyes. So subtle Dillon wasn’t entirely sure he saw it. Like the beginnings of a spark, an ember that flared to life and made him wonder what ran through her mind. If that weren’t enough torment, her tongue flicked out and slid over her bottom lip.