Dandelion Dreams (9 page)

He would have to leave me in the morning, when the sun would rise and time would start again. But for now, the sleepy minstrel sheltered me in warmth. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

•••

The next morning I was not at all surprised to find I was alone in bed, but I was stunned by the wash of bereavement. I was supposed to be glad I had my space back, but when I breathed in, I no longer detected the scent of sunshine and mountains—the smell of Kai.

Stumbling downstairs, I halted. Kai was in the kitchen, standing at the counter having a cup of coffee, like he belonged there—like he lived with me. Taking a moment, I consumed him with my eyes. He wasn’t very tall, close to five-ten maybe. His body was sturdy, almost compact, and when I was in his arms, I didn’t know there was a world outside just the two of us. His hair was dark brown and a bit too long; it fell into his face. I didn’t know if he owned a razor, but I liked his gritty jaw. He was careless with his appearance, but it didn’t matter; all I saw were captivating eyes and a kindred spirit.

I moved behind him and pressed my cheek to his back. He stiffened and then relaxed. Setting down his coffee cup, he turned to me, pulled me into his arms and lifted me onto the counter. He stood in between my legs, which I wrapped around him. He was in boxers and a white undershirt, his hair sticking up on end. I smiled and smoothed the most endearing, irreverent cowlick I had ever seen.

Placing my hands on his chest, I closed my eyes. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” His voice was husky with sleep and something else. Desire, maybe.

“I don’t know,” I answered, talking into his neck. “None of this seems real.”

“The most surreal moments are often the most genuine.”

“I didn’t believe it when my mother died, but it turned out to be the only truth of my life.”

“This is truth, too.”

“Is it?” I still wasn’t sure.

His arms tightened, but he didn’t speak. I let him hold me before pulling back and stealing his coffee. Touch of cream was how he took it, I noted.

After we showered and dressed, Kai walked me to the back of the bed and breakfast, kissing me on the lips and saluting before walking away. He didn’t tell me he’d see me that night; it was already a forgone conclusion. Whether I wanted him or not.

Ship in the night, I reminded myself, seed in the wind. And I’d let him go when the next place called to him.

•••

I spent the morning at the desk with Celia, but by the time afternoon rolled around, I knew I couldn’t put off the confrontation with Luc any longer. I found him drinking a beer on the balcony that overlooked the vineyard. It was cold and quiet, but the sky was clear.

He didn’t turn as I approached. Perhaps he was expecting me all along.

“You’re with Kai.”

“No,” I said.

“Certainly looked that way to me.”

“I was engaged, Luc. Not long ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“That’s why I’m telling you. I don’t know what I want,” I admitted. “All I know is what I
don’t
want.”

“And that’s me?”

“This isn’t about you. This is about
me.
Let me breathe, Luc.”

He picked at the corner of the beer label and peeled it. He still wouldn’t look at me.

“You don’t want me, not really. You think you do because you don’t know the real me.”

“Do
you
even know the real you?”

I glanced at the vines, my gaze landing on a rut of dirt. “No, I don’t. I thought I did, once. It was all a lie. Do you want me to lie to you, Luc?”

When he wouldn’t answer, I walked away.

•••

“I haven’t talked to my family in two years,” Kai said. His voice was quiet, his hand sliding up and down my arm. Lying in the double bed, my head resting on his chest, I stroked his brand. It was jagged, like my heart.

“Do you miss them?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“No, it’s true.”

“Do you miss anything?”

“My favorite fishing hole,” he admitted. “I miss the hours I’d lose up in those mountains. I miss Reece and Tristan, but that goes without saying. I miss Alice and Keith, Reece’s parents, who are more my parents than my own. I miss my grandmother. But I don’t miss my Mom and Dad, or brother.”

“Why not?”

His sigh was labored. “My parents want me to be a certain way, and Wyatt…”

“Wyatt?”

“My brother. He’s everything I’m not.”

I mulled over his words before asking, “Do you plan to go back?”

“No. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever think of going back to New York?”

“To what?” I sat up, my tangled hair falling across my shoulders.

“What did you leave behind?” He sat up too, the moonlight turning his skin silvery blue. Somewhere far away the sky rumbled.

“Nothing—there’s nothing there.”

“A girl like you always has someone waiting.”

Without thought, I glanced at my ring finger.

“Sage, are you married?”

“Would it bother you if I was?”

He didn’t answer, he just continued to stare at me.

I sighed. “No, I’m not married.”

“Engaged?”

“I was.” There was no apology, no sadness in my voice. It all seemed so long ago, my relationship with Connor. “None of that matters now.”

“How could it not matter?”

“The same way it doesn’t matter that you’ve been with a bunch of women.”

“It’s different,” Kai insisted. “I wasn’t planning to share a life with any of them. Did you leave him?”

“Yes,” I explained. “It needed to end. So I ended it.” I examined him, trying to see all the little parts that made him who he was. “You’re afraid I’m going to leave you, too.”

“No, I’m not.” He climbed out of bed and went in search of his pants.

“Like hell you’re not,” I said, watching him. “You think I abandon people.”

“Do you?”

“No. It looks that way, maybe, but it’s not true. I know what you’re doing.”

“What?” His voice was strained with hurt and rage.

“You’re leaving me before I leave you, before you’re in too deep.”

“Don’t you get it?” He stalked to the side of the bed and hauled me into his arms. “I’m already in too deep.”

“This has to be enough,” I begged, “please, this has to be enough.” It was a broken plea.

“For now.”

His mouth came down to claim mine in fierce possession. I ripped at his clothes, tearing into him, wanting him to brand me until I knew him in my bones. It scared me—our intensity. I wondered what we would leave in our wake, but I was straining towards it anyway.

Maybe not a passing ship after all.

Maybe the seed had settled and taken root.

Chapter 13

Kai

I came to, knowing it was morning. I inhaled—Sage was near; she shifted closer, and the tickle of her long brownish-red hair joined her smell.

“You want a lot from me, don’t you?” she whispered.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“It would terrify you if I told you.”

“Get out,” she commanded.

I forced her to meet my gaze. “No.”

“What do you mean,
no
?” she demanded, throwing her legs over the side of the bed.

“Exactly as it sounds. I’m not going anywhere.”

She moved away, and I watched her from the confines of the covers, staring at the woman who was doing everything in her power to retreat. It was too late for that; I’d follow her. Maybe I could be relentless when I wanted something. Who knew?

“I’m not ready for this—whatever
this
is.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Kai. Don’t placate me. I’m not ready for anything serious.”

“Is that what you told Luc?”

She didn’t reply.

“Why did you come home with me that night? There was a guy right under your nose you could’ve been with.”

“I knew Luc would want more. I didn’t think you would.”

“You thought you were safe.” I sat up and stretched, glad she watched my every move. “Hate to break it to you, darlin’, but you’re not safe. Not from the way I make you feel.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? Do you think I like knowing I want you, and there’s nothing I can do about it?” Tears fell down her magnolia cheeks. “Your mother just died,” my voice was a whispered caress, “let me be here for you.”

She collapsed onto the floor, and I went to her, wrapping my arms around her. Leaning against me, she shook with sobs. When she cried, she put her whole body into it—nothing about Sage was passive.

“How can you be here for me? You’re not even here for yourself.”

Was she right? I’d been running for so long I didn’t feel winded anymore.

“I was drinking a lot,” I admitted, “before we met.” It was an extreme understatement. How would she react if I told her there were weeks, months that were nothing more than a blurred recollection?

“It’s only been two weeks since we met, Kai. Do you see such a drastic change in yourself already?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Do you?”

We were at a standstill—she wiped her face, slid out of my embrace, and stood.

“Nothing can be resolved in a day, Sage.”

“So what do we do?”

I grinned. “We eat breakfast.”

•••

I didn’t want to leave, worried that if I did Sage would disappear like a thought just out of reach. I needed her.

I loved her.

When her hand lingered on my shoulder and she leaned into my mouth, I swallowed the words and almost choked on them. They didn’t go down easy. I touched her hair and then left.

The winter day was crisp but clear as I walked to my studio. Grabbing my mandolin, I went into the café, ate a croissant, and washed it down with an espresso. I played until late afternoon. As I packed up, a man in his late twenties approached me.

“You’re good,” he said in an Irish lilt.

I looked at him. “Thanks, but why did you speak to me in English?”

The man gestured to my University of Tennessee baseball cap. I wondered if I should start carrying around a hotdog, so I could drive home the point that no one could be more American than me.

“Dorian,” the man introduced, and I shook his hand. “A friend of mine and I have a band. Wondering if you wanted to jam with us.”

“Two man band? What kind of music?”

Dorian grinned. “Irish, of course.”

“Of course,” I said with a smile.

“I play the guitar, and Finn plays the fiddle. I thought a mandolin might be a nice addition.”

I didn’t have to think about it. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Do you know McCool’s on
La Rue du Commerce
? We jam there. Patrons are pretty forgiving, especially on the weekend. You free tonight?”

“I am.”

“Seven sound good?”

“Sure.”

•••

I wander through the forest, the sound of trickling water reaching my ears. Leaves crunch under my feet and my hands are cold as I shove them into pockets. The trees are slick with frost, but the familiar noises I associate with nature don’t exist. No chirping birds, no humming insects—only my breath. When I come to the clearing, I stop.

“About time you got here,” Reece says.

“Sorry, this is a new path.”

“You were annoyed that we kept meeting at the lake.”

“True. This is a nice change of scenery.” I take a seat next to my old friend, blood turning to ice—my heart is in danger of bursting. “Were you afraid?”

“Of death?”

I shake my head. “Of life.”

“The unknown scares you, doesn’t it?” Reece hops off the rock and walks around barefoot, the cold not affecting him.

“What’s the point of it all?” I ask him.

“Going all existentialist on me?”

I laugh. “It’s been on my mind lately.”

“Tell me about the girl.”

“Sage.”

“Tell me about Sage. She’s different, isn’t she?”

“Very.”

“So you meet this woman, and suddenly you’re wondering what life is about?”

I breathe deeply. “I feel like I’ve found someone special, and I’m worried she’s going to leave me.”

“You’re allowed to be happy. Don’t waste time worrying about things you can’t control.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” My tone is callous.

“Just live, Kai.”

Chapter 14

Sage

I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face as I stepped into the Irish pub. It looked like a bar straight out of Dublin, yet it was nestled in the Old Square of
Tours
in the heart of the Loire Valley.

I was ordering a glass of Bushmills when I felt a body sidle up next to me. Swiveling my head, I smiled. “Hello, stranger.”

Kai greeted me by pulling me close and running his hand along my jaw. His blue-gray eyes were flinty with promise. Our familiarity knew no bounds—eyes and bodies spoke when words weren’t enough.

“I wondered when you’d show up. We’re almost ready to go on.”

I looked past him towards the two men on stage. I had met Dorian and Finn a week ago; they were charming Irishmen with easy smiles. The crowd was growing eager, and I didn’t want to keep him. “Maybe I should find a seat?”

He winked. “I found a spot for you, come on.”

Grabbing my drink, I followed. He sat me at a small table off to the side of the stage so I would have a perfect view of the band. I kissed him and whispered, “Break a leg.”

While the musicians were tuning their instruments, my gaze wandered around the bar. A young man with a group of friends peered at me with unconcealed interest. I broke eye contact, focusing my attention on Kai. I was grateful when the music started.

Kai’s smile brought a pool of tears to my eyes—I felt his joy. This moment, this happiness, was all for him. Was this how he looked when he was fishing, or when he was with his two best friends, who were now gone? When we were together, did he feel the same way?

The band played a fast paced jig, and the crowd roared in delight. Dorian, the singer, had a strong, clear voice. Throughout their set, Kai’s gaze would find mine and linger, making me warm all over.

In the middle of a song, I rose to fetch another drink. I attempted to catch the bartender’s attention, but he was busy flirting with a blonde at the other end of the bar.