Free Dream Man by Judy Griffith Gill

wondering if he could feel the tremor running through her, and stepped clear of him. “Max,” she said, “you have to realize that you can’t just get married because your brother thinks it’s time. Sit down,” she said. “Tell me about your brother. And about you. Do you always do what he says you should? Is he older?”
    She didn’t know why she was doing this. It didn’t make any more sense than his impulsive proposal, but she didn’t want to send him away without learning more about him and his strange idea. Not that she was considering it for a moment, of course, but for some odd reason, she couldn’t just kick him out. Not until she’d heard everything he had to say.
    He didn’t sit but walked to one of the tall bookcases that flanked the fireplace and ran his fingers along a row of titles. “Rolph’s a couple of years younger than I am. I’m thirty-eight, if you’re interested,” he added almost parenthetically, “and no, I don’t usually listen to his suggestions about how to run my life. He was probably joking when he said it anyway. He was making his usual complaint about the way women respond to me.”
    Jeanie raised her brows and eased herself down onto the cushions of the sofa. “And how is that?” What a question! She knew all too well how she responded to him and was certain that other women did exactly the same. It gave her a bad feeling. She had never liked to be one of a crowd. Not that it mattered. She had no intention of continuing to be one of those women. She could control her responses.
    â€œThey—uh—” His cheekbones took on a dark red shade, and his mouth twisted wryly. “Well, let’s just say that I’ve never had trouble getting dates and—Hell! That sounds pretty juvenile, doesn’t it? Like I’m a high school kid bragging. What I mean is women like me. As a general rule.”
    â€œThey… well, they usually claim to have fallen in love with me if I see them more than a couple of times. I don’t have to do anything to make it happen, and Rolph believes that there’s no point in him trying to have a serious relationship with a woman, because the minute he brings her home to meet the family she’s going to drop him and make a play for me.” He took a large book from the case, opened it at random, and studied the page in front of him. The flush on his face deepened as he assiduously avoided her gaze.
    She leaned back and eyed him curiously. He wasn’t boasting. She could see that. He was truly abashed at having to tell her about women’s reactions to him. “Does that happen?” she asked. “Do your brother’s friends drop him and make plays for you?”
    He looked up. “Sometimes.” He put the book back. “All right. Nearly always.” He came and sat in a wing chair opposite her. “Dammit, Jeanie, it’s embarrassing!”
    â€œWhat is? Talking about it or the fact that it happens?”
    His mouth twisted sideways again in an expression of distaste. “Both.”
    â€œDo you try to stop it from happening?”
    He nodded. “Not that it does much good.” He looked even more uncomfortable. “Some women just don’t want to take no for an answer. They seem to think I can’t possibly mean it. That if they feel for me whatever that thing is they insist on calling ‘love,’ then I have to return the feeling. And I don’t. I never have. I never will, because it isn’t a real feeling. It’s just another name for sex.”
    â€œAnd you think if you were married, it would stop them from coming after you, just like that?”
    â€œWell, yes, of course! I mean, women would see that there’d be no point in chasing after a married man, wouldn’t they, and—” He looked miserable as he shook his head. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt, anyway. It