Confused and torn about what to do with regards to Chloe, that evening he walked down the street to the Braxton Family Restaurant for a bite to eat.

Staying at the Cupid Love Nest Bed and Breakfast, he tried to avoid Mrs. Underwood and her damn dog as much as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like animals, in fact, he adored the puppy Jim and Shadow were raising. The dog at the B&B, an obnoxious yapping little terrier, controlled the woman to the point he sat in her lap while she fed him.

A balmy spring breeze blew as he strolled to the diner. Until he moved to Dallas, he never realized how fortunate he was to grow up in a small community where everyone knew everyone else. Where kids still rode their bikes through the town square on their way to their best friend's house. And neighbors looked out for one another.

The only thing he missed from his old life was the connection with his friends. Meeting them for drinks and dinner in the evening, talking shop had always been entertaining. Usually during those meetups, he would find himself a nice little chica. But no more, or at least, not here.

Yet part of him wondered if that wild roaming, a different girl every other night was a thing of the past. Funny, he didn't miss that element of his lifestyle.

Stepping inside, he glanced around and observed the lateness of the hour. Most people had eaten, gone home, and were busy getting the children ready to bed. Having no babies of his own would be a disappointment. He liked kids and promised himself he would be a great uncle.

In the corner at a table all by herself, he saw Chloe, bent over paperwork. Her blonde hair spilled over the data she absorbed, her empty plate pushed to the side. His chest ached with the knowledge her father had imparted about his impending death. The urge to protect and shield her from the pain she would suffer overcame him.

If possible, he would spare her this hurt, but this was out of his control.

Stunned, his stomach roiled at the emotion as he walked toward her, knowing he had to see her, talk to her, be with her and even ask her out on a date.

Six months wasn't long, but maybe it would only take two or three dates and he would know for certain he was still never marrying. Then he could explain to her father.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked standing over her.

Like she'd been in a daze, she looked up and he almost laughed. This must be how he looked when he pulled an all nighter during finals week.

"No. I'm working on your plans now."

"What about my house? What are you changing?"

"Finalizing details like where wires should be run for the Internet, plumbing questions. A place for the washer/dryer. Tweaking things. This is actually the part I enjoy. Creating the design and putting a plan into action to make it come together."

Nodding, he beheld how much she enjoyed her job. Engrossed in her work, she hadn't looked up until he stood next to her.

"We need to make a trip to Fort Worth and go to the store and choose your light fixtures. While we're there, we could look at flooring," she said once again making notes on the floor plans.

Looking at him, she smiled, her blue eyes dilated almost like she was excited. With a jolt, he wondered what she would look like in the throes of passion.

"What if we make a weekend of it. Drive up on Friday night. Pick out fixtures and later hit some of the art museums. A famous architect, Louis I. Kahn, has a showing at the Kimball, or we could visit the Modern Art Museum, or the Amon Carter Museum. Your choice."

A frown crossed her forehead. "Two separate hotel rooms?"

"I'd rather we stayed at my apartment - there's two bedrooms. I haven't let the lease go, because I'm still working on a case in Dallas and really don't have a home to move into."

Did she realize he was asking her out on a date? Or did she just think this was business? Though he accepted it was to his advantage for her to think this was for the house, part of him wanted her to understand, this was a bona fide date.

Staring at her, he could almost see her weighing her options in her mind and knew she was tempted. Dating her would be so much easier if he’d never told her the truth about his intentions--about his unwillingness to marry.

Yet, after the Cupid dance, he wanted to be honest and let her know right up front his beliefs on the superstition and marriage.

Licking her lips, she smiled. "It's best to order this stuff early or it won't be here when we're ready for it. Yes, I'll go with you to Fort Worth and we can spend the night in separate rooms at your apartment.”

“Good. I'll pick you up at six on Friday."

After this weekend, he'd have a clearer picture if he planned to continue dating Chloe. No woman had ever lasted much longer after spending so much time together. Usually, once they spent the night, his curiosity was abated. Normally that included three days of robust sex, but he doubted that would happen.

"Remember, this is our secret. My surrogate mothers wouldn't understand me staying the night with the bad boy of Cupid."

With a smile, he thought about her father. "Our secret."

* * *

When they drove into Drew's apartment building, Chloe was surprised at the lavish style. Located in downtown Dallas close to his old office, the complex was designed for upwardly mobile younger tenants. After they parked his Ferrari in a well lit, guarded parking garage, he used a key card to enter.

As they walked in the door of his unit, the warm furnishings, fine décor, and the rich paintings stunned her. The place looked gorgeous. Dropping the stack of mail on a granite kitchen counter top he showed her around.

"Your room is right through here and you have your own bathroom," he said, showing her the guest room with its queen-size bed, dresser, and chest. Lamps graced the end tables and the place was sophisticated and well decorated.

"Which girlfriend was your interior designer?"

His brow furrowed in a frown. "Sorry to disappoint you, but my mother came up and we spent a weekend decorating my apartment."

"Sorry," she said, feeling guilty for assuming the worst. The memory of him working with his mother to put his home together must’ve been bittersweet.

"The first and last time she came to visit," he said. "Now I'm sure Mom would be thrilled to learn I moved back to Cupid. And she would love that I purchased her childhood home."

With a plop, he sat Chloe's overnight bag on the floor. They decided to return late Saturday afternoon to Cupid because Sunday was a busy day for Chloe and for Drew, as well.

A question that bothered her for some time popped out of her lips.

"Why aren't you living with Jim and Shadow. Don't they have plenty of room in that big old house."

"Those two are in full wedding plan mode. Kelsey is helping Shadow prepare her big day. From the B&B, I can walk to work. Once you are all settled, we'll stroll down the street to this little steakhouse I love and have dinner."

A smile flitted across her face. "That sounds nice. Let me change and we'll go."

As soon as he left the room, she quickly opened her suitcase and pulled out the little summer dress she recently bought online. Not that she was dressing up for him, but all she ever wore around him were jeans and a shirt, and on Sunday, it was a conservative outfit.

For once, she wanted to wear something a little sexier. Even if she dressed for him, tonight, the outfit was a rehearsal for a legitimate date.

Freshening up her makeup, she swiped on her lipstick and then hurried out the door.

"Wow," he said when she came out. "You look stunning."

Grinning, she did like his compliments. "So seldom do I have the opportunity to step out in a fun dress. On Sundays, my dress must be conservative or my rectory moms let me know I'm not dressing appropriately.”

His eyes darkened. "Don't let them see that dress or you'll be locked up."

The man's words were like poetry oozing over her like warm oil, making her feel good about her appearance. Tonight, his attire was business casual with a sports coat thrown over his Oxford shirt and jeans. There was no doubt why women flocked to him.

She turned toward the door. "Come on, I'm starving."

"Oh, and the woman has an appetite. I like that."

"Sure, says the man who dated enough skinny models to fill the room sideways.”

"Honestly, they're boring. Beautiful little dolls who eat maybe half a cup a meal and drink very little alcohol. Only positive thing I can say about them is sexist. So, I'll keep it to myself."

Smiling at him, she wondered about his life in Dallas. Since his return to Cupid, he hadn't mentioned much about his previous experiences here.

With a shake of her head, she laughed. "You are such a fast man."

"Ah, you're hurting my feelings. Recovering," he said. "I've been celibate for the last six months."

"Oh my, you must be suffering so badly," she cooed in sympathy not certain she believed him. What he didn't know was she had checked, and yes, her bedroom door had a lock. Tonight when she went to sleep, the door would be locked, just to make sure there would be no hanky panky. "I'm sure you have booty calls on speed dial."

Laughter rumbled from his chest. "Don't go there. Come on, let's go before this discussion gets me in even more trouble."

Reaching out, she took his hand. "Are we walking."

"Yes, we're a short block away."

His hand felt firm, his grip sure as they walked out of the apartment and caught the elevator going down. Exiting the building, a cool breeze blew through downtown as cabs honked and cars sped by.

At nine o'clock, the place was bustling. It would be fun to live here for about two weeks and then she would miss the quiet pace of Cupid.

Sometimes it was good to be reminded of what she loved about her small community.

Strolling into the restaurant, the maître d’ greeted him. "Drew, are you back in town?"

"Just for tonight, Jean. Tomorrow we return to Cupid."

The man nodded at her. "Lovely, follow me," he said. "Your table is not occupied."

Chloe followed the man and couldn't remember the last time she had dined in such a fancy place. Linen tablecloths covered the table, dim lighting, soft music, and the ambiance was cozy. Glancing at people as they made their way through the tables, she recognized a local weatherman.

The maître d’ pulled out her chair and she sank onto the cushioned seat.

"A bottle of your favorite?"

"Oh, yes," Drew said.

She glanced at him. "Why do I think you've done this before?"

No matter what happened tonight, she had to remain strong. When he asked her to go with him, she thought it was a business weekend. Over the course of the night, she'd decided it was more. So much more. A trickle of unease spiraled through her.

Uncertain if he was giving them a chance or could he be looking for an opportunity to strip her of her panties. Hopefully she would soon learn the answer.

Regardless, she was going to enjoy the evening.

"You're right." Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it, sending a rush of warmth through her. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were jealous of the women before you."

Laughter erupted from her. Just as the maître d’ brought over a bottle of wine and opened it with a flourish at their table. Last, he poured some of the chardonnay into their glasses and left.

"If I had been drinking, I'd probably spewed all over the table," she said still smiling at the idea she was jealous. That wasn't possible. Oh, she was attracted to Drew, but the man only expected desert and she was champagne.

Drew made the decision not to become romantically involved because of her beliefs. Chloe wanted forever after and refused to play his love games. "Look, I'm not jealous. I don't want to be seen and thought of as one of your many women. Someday I want to be someone's special woman."

Turning over her hand, he rubbed the inside of her palm, sending a delicious shiver through her. The man had the art of seduction down.

"There is no doubt in my mind you will be."

Taking a sip of her drink, she looked at the menu. "Okay, I'm going way out on a limb here. I'm going to be completely different from those skinny minis you date. I want a filet mignon cooked in wine and butter sauce with a baked potato and salad, and for desert, I want the bananas foster with the big flame and everything."

He laughed. "I like an appetite in a woman."

"Don't think I'm having a tablespoon of food."

Leaning toward her, he asked in a low voice, "Tell me again why we're not officially dating?"

Picking up his hand, she smiled. "It's not me. It's you. You're the one who was blatant about not wanting to marry. I'm a girl who requires a ring on it."

"Just my luck. I'm with the most beautiful girl in the restaurant and she has these standards."

Her brows drew together. "Tell me why again. I still don't understand your aversion to marriage."

His hand covered hers and she liked the texture of his skin against her own. Sometimes when he looked at her, his eyes darkened in that sensual stare that sent tremors rippling through her.

"Love is painful. It hurts when you lose someone. Over the years, I've found it's easier to let women know right up front I'm here to play and never get serious."

Nodding in understanding, thinking there was more he kept to himself, she said, "After my mother died, my father grieved for years. Father said he didn't think it was possible to ever find someone to fill the aching void left by my mother. That no one could replace her."

"My mother said almost the same about my father. She would never marry again because no one could be as good."

They sat in comfortable silence for moment while Chloe thought of everything he'd said. "Why do you think love is painful? With all the women who have paraded through your life, has there never been anyone who made you think she's the one? What about children?"

For a moment, she didn't think he would respond.

"I plan on being a great uncle," he said, gazing at her, his emerald eyes warm. "Why is love painful? When someone you love dies, it hurts. We were prepared when dad died and actually felt relieved he no longer suffered. But Mother's death was totally unexpected. And so close to Dad's. After that, I didn't want to feel anything anymore. So, I dulled my emotions by never letting myself get serious with any woman."

Part of her understood his response. Part of her thought he should accept that life and death went together. No one lived forever, but that seemed cruel. Though he talked of his mother and his fast lifestyle, she didn't think he realized how much his words revealed to her.

"You think it's better to never love, so you don't experience pain? How do you think your mother would feel about your reaction to her death?"

A deep sigh came from him. "Right now, I haven't found anyone I wanted to take a chance to experience love and pain with."

"Understand," she said, agreeing with him. "Me, neither."

A sardonic laugh came from between his lips as he gazed at her, his green eyes sad. "With regards to my mother, the first portion of her lecture would be chewing me out and reminding me of how I'm acting immorally. The second part of her diatribe would be to remind me of my dad and their happiness. The wrap up would be I should find a nice girl and settle down."

How she wished she could tell him about the diary. She already liked his mother even in death. And for her son to recognize her reaction was perfect.

Just then Chloe glanced up and a very thin, beautiful woman had stopped by their table. "Drew, you're back in town?"

"Only for the night," he said, glancing up at her, tensing.

"Is she your latest date?"

"Chloe Kilian," Chloe replied, holding out her hand. "I'm remodeling his grandmother's house in Cupid."

The woman relaxed and drew her fake claws back in. "Anna Provinski, one of his many ex-girlfriends."

"Join us," Chloe said, being friendly and knowing it made Drew uncomfortable. "Tell me all about your experience dating Drew."

She laughed. "A tragic short tale."

Drew, who had been taking a sip of water, made a spewing noise and started coughing.

"Are you all right?" Chloe asked him.

"Dying," he replied. "But don't worry about me."

Anna shook her head. "Thanks for the invite, but my date awaits me." After giving Drew an icy stare, she said, "Call me."

Drew did not respond and the skinny model quickly walked away.

"Awkward," Chloe said, grinning at the discomfort etched on Drew's face. Deliberately, she had engaged and kept the conversation light and easy until the girl accepted she was a companion of Drew's on a business dinner.

Was it a business weekend? Things were different between them.

"Somehow, I think, if you were driving a bus and I was standing in the road, you would run me down," Drew said, sitting back in his chair smiling at her. "Counselor, you did a great job of outmaneuvering the opposition."

"I've never driven a bus, you might need to worry," she said, leaning into him. "And the outmaneuver--easy."

* * *

When they arrived back at his apartment, Drew put on soft music, clicked on the fireplace, and opened a bottle of wine. Everything he always did to seal the deal and win the girl. Chloe would be no different and hopefully she'd wake up in his bed in the morning.

For a second, his conscious twinged, reminding him he promised her father no seducing his daughter. But they were here, the dinner was nice, he enjoyed her company more than he cared to admit, and well, wasn't this all leading up to how he treated all the women he dated. He seduced them.

Chloe sat on the couch, watching the fire as he walked over and handed her a glass. "More alcohol?"

"Seemed fitting. It feels good to be relaxing here in my own place again. Though, I know spring is here, I love this little fireplace."

Sinking down beside her as close as he could, he slipped his arm along the top of the sofa behind her. They watched the flames lick the fake logs and sipped their drinks.

"We can put one of these in your grandmother's house. There is that old fireplace that gas logs would be perfect for," she said.

"I agree," he said and took her wine glass out of her hand and placed it on the table. As he moved closer, she frowned at him. That move was one of his signature advances and worked every time.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly, her sapphire eyes shining at him, sending trickles of desire spiraling down his spine, centering in his groin. Right where he needed those feelings.

"What I've wanted to do since you walked out of the guest room looking beautiful."

His lips came down on hers, covering her mouth, seducing her and hoping she felt the same hunger, that somehow, he held at bay all evening. Opening her lips, his tongue slipped inside, tempting and tantalizing her, making her want him as much as he wanted her.

Like an alluring morsel, he savored her lips as he gently laid her back on the couch, until she lay sprawled beneath him. While he enticed her mouth, his hand trailed down until he found her breasts. Kneading the full mound through her dress, he anticipated the moment he could remove the filmy material from her body.

Their lips came apart, her breathing ragged as he pressed against her center, letting her feel his hardened shaft, wanting her to know what she did to him.

"Chloe, let's move this to my room," he said as he placed kisses down her neck.

"No build-up, no foreplay, straight to your bed?" she inquired.

"Oh, honey, I'm going to make you so hot for me, you'll be screaming," he promised.

Her body tensed and she pushed him off.

"What a wonderful idea," she said softly, sitting up beside him.

A surge of happiness and anticipation had him eagerly standing up and pulling her. The need to get her into his bed overwhelmed him.

Placing her hand on his chest, her blue eyes scorching him with heat. "It's been a lovely evening. Tonight, you answered my question about us. You just want into my panties. Goodnight, Drew."

Before he had the opportunity to respond, she strolled to her room and shut the door, leaving him standing in his living area bewildered.

Unable to stop himself, he cursed, not believing she had walked away from his seduction. Coming home, he stepped right into the old Drew's modus operandi. Only this woman had slammed the door in his face, literally.

With a sigh, he turned off the gas logs, emptied the wine glasses in the sink and switched off the lights and went into his bedroom alone. Stunned, he couldn't fathom, she turned him down.

As he undressed, his cell phone rang. Glancing down at the number, he recognized Anna's name.

"Hello," he said. "How was your date?"

"A complete disaster. How about you?"

"Frustrating," he responded.

Anna laughed her deep voice sending a shiver down his spine. "Your builder, she doesn't sleep with you?"

"No, and I don't want to talk about her. What are you wearing?"

"Absolutely nothing. Why don't you come over and turn a bad evening into something special for both of us?"

Without hesitating, he reacted like the old Drew. "See you soon."

"Hurry," she said. "I need you."

Ending the call, he was out the door and all the way to the garage to jump in his car, just like the old days, when his conscience kicked in. Why did it seem like he was cheating on Chloe if he went to Anne's house? Because he knew exactly what Anne was offering, and he had no obligations to Chloe.

Yet, there was this bond with her. Instinctively, he understood if he went to Anne, there would be no chance in hell of ever dating Chloe.

And damn it, he wanted to date Chloe. Not because of her father, but because he was attracted to her in ways he didn't understand. She made him consider things he’d refused to think about for a long time. She made him look at his actions in a meaningful light.

Twice tonight, he'd fallen back into the old Drew's routine. Twice tonight, he realized his mistake. Maybe there was hope for him and for Chloe yet.

Yanking out his phone he dialed Anna back. "Sorry, I can't do it. I'm crazy about Chloe and I'm not cheating on her."

* * *

The next night they pulled up in front of Chloe's house exhausted. Saturday, they picked out the flooring, lighting, and other items she needed and even visited several art museums before they headed back to Cupid.

The day had been fun with no mention of the night before.

"I'll carry your suitcase in," he said as he opened her door.

"You don't need to see me to the door," she said, trying not to think of the weekend as a date. The night before, he had no idea how hard it was for her to end his kiss and walk back to her room. His kisses seemed to cause certain areas of her body to heat until near combustible levels.

But she was his builder, and he didn't want forever. And she wasn't going to be another one of his booty call girls. Obviously, the model-thin girl he'd talked to at dinner had been one of his exes and wanted to restart the romance.

Chloe couldn't help but enjoy his discomfort when she'd invited the woman to join them for dinner. She refused to be jealous of these women because they meant nothing. If the two of them were to ever be in a relationship, then she wanted nothing like what he had with them.

Shaking his head at her, he frowned. "Yes, I need to make certain you're in the house just fine. It's almost eleven, the house is dark and I'm not letting you go in by yourself."

"This is Cupid, not Dallas," she said, though secretly, she liked the fact he was concerned.

"Yes, but my mother raised me better than to let a woman go into a house alone at night. Don't you watch horror movies?”

"Not really," she said.

He carried her suitcase up the sidewalk while she found her keys. Once inside, she turned on lights and moved about the house, checking the rooms.

"Everything is fine," she said.

"Did you look in the closets and under the bed?" he asked.

Laughing, she said, "Hardly. The boogie man escaped years ago."

Walking up close to her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "This weekend I had a great time with you. Loved how you invited my old girlfriend to join us for dinner, rejected my advances, spent my money to pick out furnishings. Chloe, you definitely know how to keep things interesting and me wondering what's going to happen next."

Though he was serious, she giggled. "It was fun. I especially enjoyed the Kimball art museum. We made a start on things we need for the house. Dinner last night was fabulous. Your seduction typical."

A deep chuckled rumbled from his chest. "Now you can say you received the same treatment as all the other girls."

"That's the problem, I don't want to be just one of your women."

"And I don't want you to be." For a moment, his green eyes darkened as he stared at her. "Something you said bothered me."

"What?" she asked, wondering what would upset him. 

"The meal, the way you looked that night, the wine, the fire, it felt like the perfect moment. The old Drew came out and slipped right back into his habits of seducing a woman."

A smile lifted her lips. Could they have crossed some internal barrier keeping them apart? "Yes, and he's quite the charming fellow. Now I understand why so many women fell for him."

Picking up her hands in his. "All right, I admit I wanted to get into your panties in a bad way. If you'd given me the chance, I would have taken it as far as I could’ve last night. For once, I agree. You were right to put a halt to things. This weekend showed me I want to be involved. I'm crazy about you and I want us to date."

"You don't want to marry," she said, her voice sincere and quiet as his hands gripped hers.

"Why can't we date and find out where this goes."

"Because I fear I'll be the one who will get hurt. You've made yourself perfectly clear about marriage and I've told you I'm looking for someone to spend forever with."

Biting his lip, he stared at her. "I understand. Give me a chance. Let's put the idea of marriage on the shelf for now and see if there is something between us. Let's have fun together and then later if we realize we're falling in love, we can then discuss what we're going to do."

A glimmer of hope filled her. "You understand there will be no premarital sex? You'll consider marriage after we date a period of time or let me know your views are the same?"

When she stared into his emerald gaze, he smiled, reassuring her, making her almost giddy.

"Yes, I agree to no premarital sex and wedding bells are not out of the question."

She grinned at him, her heart racing. Maybe Cupid was working for them. "So, when is our next date?"

"This Friday at Jim and Shadow's rehearsal dinner. I'd love if you were my date."

"What should I wear?"