Only in My Dreams (28 page)

Kyle glanced away. “No.”

“Dad . . . Dad, you're being overly harsh.” Sara closed her mouth because she didn't want to reveal the depth of her distress. They'd all pick up on it and then the focus would turn to her. She absolutely did
not
want that.

Mom cleared her throat. “There's one more thing. I'm going with Hayden.” She gave him a warm smile. “A change of scenery will be good for me, and it's been years since I used my French.”

Hayden returned Mom's smile. “There's no one I'd rather have with me.”

Sara's heart ached. She'd never loved her brother more than in that moment. But if Mom left, what did that mean for Sara? She'd come home to be with Mom, to give her what she'd always provided for Sara—love, comfort, support. She'd also abandoned her life and signed away her business. And for what? She closed her eyes and tugged on the bottom of her vest so that the weight of it pulled on her shoulders.

Silence took hold for a long moment. When Sara opened her eyes, everyone was watching Dad. At last he looked at Mom. “You should go.”

Mom nodded. “I'm glad you agree.”

“But . . . Mom . . . ” Sara was having a rare moment when words seemed to jumble in her brain and trip along her tongue on their way out of her mouth. This had been a regular occurrence when she was younger, but therapy and practice had all but eliminated the problem. She pulled tighter on the vest and clenched her muscles. She didn't want them to see how badly she was affected. “What about Derek's wedding?” Thank God the words came out all right.

Mom smiled at Derek. “I'd never miss it.” Though Derek wasn't her blood son, he was family and the first of them to be getting married.

Hayden nodded, looking at Derek. “Me neither—I'm the best man after all.”

From the corner of her eye, Sara caught Kyle stiffening beside her.

Mom returned her gaze to Sara. “You and Chloe will manage things. And I'll only be a Skype away.”

This was all too much. Hayden leaving. Mom going with him. Dad shutting down Kyle's offer to take Hayden's place at Archer. Deciding to sign away her business earlier.

Sara shoved back from the table. “I need to go.” She left the kitchen via the mudroom hallway, grabbing her purse on her way to the door.

“Sara!” Kyle called after her.

She heard his footsteps in the hall, but didn't stop. He caught up with her in the courtyard as she went to the garage for her car and punched in the code for the door.

“Sara, wait.” He touched her back. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” The door opened and she went to her car without looking at him. “Kyle, just let me go.”

D
YLAN GLANCED AT
the clock—nearly seven. He expected Sara to come by after her family meeting. His phone rang and he felt a stab of disappointment that she'd decided to call instead. Until he saw the caller ID and it said “Mom.”

He was already thinking of how to get her off the phone when he said, “Hi, Mom.”

“You picked up.” Her tone was dry. “I'm so used to leaving you voicemail.”

“I've just been busy. Working long days.” Completely true, but he also hadn't bothered to return her messages. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture about how he should meet someone, not when he was quite happily engaged in a fling with the sexiest, sweetest woman in the Willamette Valley.

“I'm calling to remind you about Brie's graduation on Saturday. It's at one o'clock at the college. And it's outside. I really hope it doesn't rain.”

He rolled his eyes. “The forecast looks great. Stop looking for things to worry about.”

“The party's at six at our house. You don't need to bring anything, though I hope you bring a date.”

“I'm not seeing anyone, Mom.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

He laughed at her sarcasm. What else could he do? There was frustration, or irritation, or his typical reaction—nothing. But he decided maybe it was time to find some humor. Wow, look at him being all positive. He blamed Sara's influence.

“Some of Brie's friends will be there. Maybe you'll meet someone.”

Oh, God. Just what he needed—live and in-person matchmaking by his mother. “On second thought, maybe I will bring someone.” He thought about asking Sara, but that would annihilate the whole secret thing.

“That would be lovely, dear. I hope you actually mean it.” She saw right through him.

Dylan heard a car on the drive. “Sorry to cut this short, but I need to run. I'll see you Saturday.” He disconnected before she could argue.

He went to the door and met Sara. One look at her pale face told him everything he needed to know. He reached for her and pulled her against his chest.

Her arms snaked around his waist and he felt her exhale against his shirtfront.

“Come in.” He guided her over the threshold and closed the door. “I have wine. Or I can even make you a foofy drink.”

“Thanks.” She sounded sniffly, like she'd been crying. God, how bad was it?

He kept his hand on the small of her back, applying pressure, as they walked to the kitchen. He sat her on one of the bar stools.

“A foofy drink would be great.” She attempted a smile, but it didn't remotely reach her eyes.

He went to the cabinet where he kept his stash of liquor: a bottle of tequila, two bottles of scotch, and fresh bottles of pomegranate vodka and triple sec which he'd use to make a pomegranate lemon drop. He set the bottles on the counter, then got a martini glass and the lemon juicer. As he set to juicing two lemons, he glanced over at her. “You want to talk about it?”

She stared at him. “You're going full bartender here. Wow.”

He paused as her words sank in. He was. He'd actually cut out a little early—the days were long and the crew typically worked until eight—just to hit the liquor store and get home and shower before he thought she might show up. In fact, he just realized she'd been taking a chance by coming here at this hour since he was typically still at the job site. It seemed they each had expectations that maybe went beyond friends with benefits.

He pushed the thought away and focused on making the drink. Even so, he couldn't shake the odd feeling he now had—like he was watching what was happening instead of living it.

“Hayden's taking an internship at a winery in France for a year.” She said this so coldly that he looked up. “He's wanted to make wine for as long as I can remember.”

“Really? I didn't know that.” What was he doing working for Archer Enterprises when he lived in one of the best wine countries in the world? “How is this a bad thing?”

“It's not—for him. Mom's going with him.”

Dylan grabbed the cocktail shaker from the liquor cabinet and filled it with ice. He still wasn't sure he saw why this was so bad, but he was very cognizant of her fragile behavior so he tried to think of something supportive to say. Or at least something that wasn't ‘What's the big deal?' which would've been the F-grade response. “You don't want her to go?”

“No. I mean yes.” She rubbed her hand across her forehead. “I want her to be happy. But for her to go away for so long . . . I know I moved away from Ribbon Ridge, but I was close. She'll be half a world away. And Dad didn't even seem to care. It just seems like nothing will ever be the same.”

“You do realize that nothing
will
be the same.”

“Yes. That doesn't make it any easier.”

No, it didn't. But life was full of disappointments, wasn't it? He poured the ingredients into the shaker and shook it within an inch of its life.

“I'm worried that my parents are having problems. I've read the death of a child is often a huge strain on a marriage—a lot of couples get divorced.”

“Yeah, I've heard that, too,” he said, trying to find the right words to make her feel more optimistic. “But maybe this is what they both need to heal.”

“Maybe. You're so lucky you don't have a big family to deal with.”

Lucky. Huh. He'd thought so, but now he wasn't so sure. He was always on the outside looking in, never part of anything. Ice pricked the back of his neck. He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

She sipped her drink. “This is really good.” Her mouth relaxed into a smile. “Thanks. Really. You're so sweet to go to the trouble to make this for me.” She looked at the bottles on the counter as if she was just seeing them. “Did you go to the liquor store? You can't have had pomegranate vodka on hand.”

“Guilty as charged.” Damn, this was feeling more and more like a real relationship. She'd been here almost fifteen minutes and they hadn't even flirted. He popped open his beer and took a healthy swig. “You're totally worth pomegranate vodka and hand-squeezed lemons.” He injected a large dose of playfulness into his tone—time to change this depress-fest up. “What else can I squeeze?” He dipped his gaze to her breasts.

She blinked at him and he feared he'd overstepped. Maybe she needed to talk more. She took a long sip and then swiveled on the stool, crooking her finger at him.

His blood heated at the subtle narrowing of her eyes. He moved around the island and went to stand between her parted knees.

She unzipped her vest and brought his hands up to her chest. She wore a lightweight ivory T-shirt with a V-neck that accentuated the curve of her breasts. “These what you wanted to squeeze?”

He pressed his fingers into her flesh, suddenly desperate to toss her shirt and bra away. “Yep. Way better than lemons.”

She arched up and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth and filling his senses with lemon and pomegranate and Sara. He tried to pinch her nipples, but it was almost impossible to get a good grip with her bra in the way. He slid his hands up under her shirt and slipped inside the frustrating undergarment. Her warm flesh greeted him, sent need spiraling to his groin.

She eased off the stool and dragged him toward the couch. The sex was hot and quick, with him driving into her with rough, swift strokes. He collapsed on top of her and tried to move to the side, but she clutched him close. “Stay there. You feel so good crushing me.” Her breathing slowed. “I know that's weird.”

“It's not weird.” He knew why she liked it. From a sensory prospective it was incredibly grounding for her. He also knew that was why she liked their sex hard and fast from time to time.

“Thanks.” She kissed his shoulder, her fingers tracing whorls on his back. “I don't know what I'd do without you right now, especially with my mom leaving.”

A streak of panic slashed through him. This was becoming dangerously close to overflowing the parameters of friends with benefits. He steered clear of relationships on purpose, and for this one to turn bad would impact so many things.

She kissed him, her lips soft and warm. Her touch soothed the apprehension coursing through him. “I promised to make you dinner the other day—chicken tortilla soup. You hungry?”

He rolled off her and stood up, glad for something else to think about. “Famished.” He helped her up. “You good?”

She shrugged. She began to pick up her haphazardly discarded clothes and dress. “For now. I love knowing that while I'm here all of that can fade away and I can just be myself. With you. My family can stay the hell out.”

Dylan pulled on his jeans. He was glad he could be here for her, but he couldn't shake the uneasiness that had settled between his shoulder blades. For now they
could
exist in this bubble, but for how long?

Chapter Seventeen

S
ARA CLOSED THE
door gently behind her and tiptoed through the mudroom just after six on Friday morning after crashing at Dylan's. She was pretty sure no one was around, but there was always a chance Tori was up for an early run. Mom, who'd always risen with the sun before Alex had died, would certainly still be in bed. And Kyle was staying in the apartment over the garage so he likely wouldn't be about either. Plus, he was
not
a morning person.

A bottle of water sounded good, but Sara didn't dare go into the kitchen for fear Tori
was
in there having her pre-run coffee. Instead, Sara made her way quietly toward the stairs near the entry.

And ran smack into Mom.

“There you are, dear, I was worried.” She hugged Sara.

Sara's arms felt wooden as she hugged her back. “Yeah, here I am.”

“Where did you go last night? We were all so concerned.”

She knew that because they'd all texted her repeatedly: Mom, Tori, Hayden, Derek, Chloe, even Kyle. Everyone except Dad. “I told you I was fine.”

Mom drew back, her blue eyes dark with apprehension. “Did you go to your condo?” She glanced down at Sara's clothes. “You're wearing the same clothes again. Don't you have anything back at your place?”

“Most everything is here, particularly the seasonal stuff.” She was desperate to change the topic to something safer. “You're up so early, and you're dressed.” She smiled. “It's good to see you like this.”

Mom's answering smile was warm and serene. Genuine. It threatened to bring tears to Sara's eyes, but she blinked them back. “I feel good. Better than I have in ages. I think going with Hayden is the right decision.” Lines formed around her eyes and mouth. “Will you be okay with me gone?”

“Of course.” Sara answered quickly, maybe too quickly. But she wouldn't do anything to alter Mom's course, not when it finally seemed like she was moving forward instead of stagnating in grief. “I'm so glad you're going. And I've got plenty to keep me busy here.”

Mom rubbed Sara's arm, something she'd done for as long as Sara could remember but only just realized had been absent the past few months. “Tori said you sold your business to Craig yesterday. Why didn't you tell me you'd decided?”