Yours to Savor (12 page)

That was how Sandra ended up in Ocean Shores, Washington. Her car had broken down as she was driving through, and it seemed as good a place as any to settle temporarily. She’d hoped that maybe if she could get as far away from her old home in Chicago as possible—get to the very edge of the continent on the West Coast—it would help with the dreams.

She’d been right—to a degree. The nightmares still came, of course, but not as frequently as with Henry. So, she was still looking, still searching for some way to be rid of them forever. Even though Sandra had learned to lessen their impact on her day-to-day life, one part of the nightmare still managed to trigger a very emotional, very visceral response in her: her rescue in the hands of that stranger.

Every time the nightmare came, some last remaining trace of guilt was spurred by the unknown stranger grabbing her and rushing her out of the house. It didn’t matter that Sandra knew the guilt was irrational, didn’t matter how hard she tried to reason against it. Hell, it didn’t even matter how far removed she was from the event anymore. Being taken away from the imposing door always woke that mortifying sense of shame and responsibility.

At nine, and still battling the screaming fits, Sandra had hated that man for sparing her life. Back then, she thought it would have been truly better if she’d perished in the fire along with her sister, instead of living in a barely-functional, lonely existence with the guilt of survival. Although she’d long since overcome that dangerous mindset, she
still
couldn’t stop herself from hating the man. She knew she
shouldn’t
, knew that she should be thankful for his saving her… but all her emotions told her otherwise. It was one dark cloud she still needed to clear from her mind.

Sandra picked up a clean towel from beside her bed and started for the bathroom. While the frugality she lived with now wasn’t exactly easy, it was her own choice. Working as a receptionist, renting a ramshackle apartment… it wasn’t
ideal
, but it was the simplest existence she’d ever known.

It was all she wanted for herself right now. At least, until she figured out what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

That was why she’d stayed put for two years, avoiding most relationships and any resulting emotions. It gave her a chance to breathe. Maybe it didn’t make the dreams go away, but Sandra thought that her solitary lifestyle
might give her the best shot at figuring out what would.

She spotted the shoes she’d kicked off last night and gave a bitter laugh. Had she really called the night
magical
?
Amazing
? The champagne must have warped her perception. She couldn’t even be sure if Brandon
liked
her, not after the strange way he’d said good-bye.

She had to remember to clamp down and not be so free with her emotions if she ever saw him again.
And not act like some stupid
puppy that was let out after being stuck in a closet for a week.

Sandra undressed and stepped into the dribbling stream of icy water from her shower. The cold always woke her up. Maybe it would numb her senses enough to make her forget all the pain that accompanied today’s recollection.

Chapter Seven

The rest of the week passed without a word from Brandon.

And if Sandra felt a tiny flair of disappointment when Monday morning hit, well, it was her own fault for making up wild narratives that didn’t exist.

She dressed in her drab receptionist’s outfit, another episode of the nightmare fresh on her mind, and left for work. Cassie was too busy with an unexpected surge of customers to chat for long, and Josh didn’t say much aside from a quick, “How’s it going?”

Monday passed quickly at the office, with lots of appointments scheduled for the doctor. Sandra reminded him again of his upcoming anniversary with Mrs. Baker. He laughed and told her if he forgot his wife would have his ears, and then asked about what had happened with the young man she went out with on Friday. She told him, “Nothing.”

Tuesday and Wednesday went by much the same way: Sandra waking up from nightmares each morning; Sandra numbing herself in the cold water of her shower; Sandra going to get her morning coffee. Had she fallen into another routine in the last two years without realizing it in? The errant thought entered her mind as she rushed to work, but she didn’t pay it much attention, instead choosing to focus on dealing with the patients, appointments, paperwork, medical bills, insurance statements, and everything else her job entailed.

Thursday was a surprise.

Sandra came in unusually early to
Cassie’s Blend
. She had woken up in that awkward time period when it was too late to reach for the Ambien, but too early to get ready for work—though the nightmare didn’t bother her that night. So she’d showered, and gone to see if her friend at the coffee shop had opened the doors.

The actual doors turned out to be locked, but Cassie spotted Sandra from inside and darted over. Her eyes shone with mischief as she unbolted the lock and let Sandra in.

“What?” Sandra asked. Cassie was looking at her and trying—but failing—to conceal a smile.

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Truly. Nothing.” The grin became even more apparent.

“Come on, I know something’s up. You’re looking at me like a housecat who’s caught a goldfish.”

Cassie looked from side to side, and let out a schoolgirlish squeal. “Why didn’t you
tell
me you went out with Mr. Handsome last week?”

“Oh. That. Wait—how do you know?”

“Mrs. Baker came in the other day,” Cassie explained, tossing her hair and sauntering over to lounge on a stool. “Her husband wouldn’t stop gushing about it the minute he came home on Friday. A Friday night date. For you! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Really, Sandra, I’m hurt!”

“Wait, why did Mrs. Baker tell
you
?”

“I have a skill at ferretting out gold nuggets of gossip.” Cassie beamed. “Oh, you shouldn’t be mad with the doctor.
He’s
one I’ve never been able to crack. Heck, he made his wife promise not to tell
anybody
after he told her.”

“Yet you found out,” Sandra noted flatly.

“Duh, I’m a pro. So, what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on,” Cassie prodded. “That can’t be true. Come, come, sit. You have to tell me everything! Who is he? What’s his name? What’s his story? Did you kiss? How was the sex—great? Oh, I imagine it’d be great. He looked like the smoldering, passionate kind. I can just picture the two of you—”

“Cassie!” Sandra sat down hard at the table. She
really
didn’t want to talk about Friday. She did not want to relive the disappointment of not hearing from Brandon since. “Seriously! Nothing happened. We were out for an hour, and he didn’t call me after.”

“An hour? Only an hour?”

“That’s all I gave him.”

“Oh, Sandra, Sandra, Sandra,” Cassie chastised. “
That
was a mistake. And your next mistake was not telling me earlier! I could have helped you reel him in.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need your help. The whole date shouldn’t have happened, anyway, and—”

“Don’t say that! Why shouldn’t it have happened?”

“By the end of the night, he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Cassie frowned. “That’s hard to imagine.” Then she added in a stage whisper, gesturing with one long-nailed finger up and down Sandra’s clothes, “You didn’t wear
that
, did you?”

“Of course not!” Sandra blushed. “I have better things at home.”

“Well, then you have to tell me what you did!” Cassie glanced at the clock. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I need to start prepping the back. So you
have
to dish. Let’s start with the basics. Do you like him?”

Sandra hid a furtive smile. “Maybe not at first, but after…”

“Not at first? You
chased
after him Friday morning!”

“Oh, I didn’t even tell you what happened—”

“You don’t need to.” Cassie laughed. “He came in here not ten minutes after you’d gone, asking for you.”

Sandra was shocked. “He
asked
for me? Why?”

“He said something about a new shirt.” Cassie’s eyes twinkled. “He walked in stripped to the waist like he owned the place. I nearly died when I saw him. If it had been anybody other than me and Josh in here, I would have sent him on his way, but since I didn’t have any customers to worry over…” Cassie trailed off, laughing. “Well, I can appreciate a good body with the best of them.”

“Wait a minute.” Sandra’s eyes narrowed. “
You
didn’t tell him where I work, did you?”

Cassie took a sudden, inexplicable interest in a dirty spot on the table.

“You did!” Sandra exclaimed.

“Hey, hey!” Cassie protested. “With someone like that asking you a question, your brain turns to mush.” At least this time, Cassie had the grace to blush. “What’s a girl to do?”

“What if he was dangerous? What if he was a stalker?”

“Sandra.” Cassie gave her a level look. “I think I’d be able to tell apart a stalker from a regular man. Besides, the way he asked about you…it was very romantic.”

“How so?”

“What do you think? How many men do you know who’d be willing to swallow their pride enough to ask after you?”

Sandra thought about it for a moment. “Nobody.”

“Exactly. I’d consider myself very lucky if I were you. Having a handsome, obviously successful man interested in you is totally flattering!”

“And a bit unexpected,” Sandra added. Brandon had actually come to ask
Cassie
about her? And he did it
after
she’d dismissed him on the street? It was quite endearing, she had to admit—though in a strange-but-exciting sort of way. “What did he say?”

“Well, he explained what happened,” Cassie laughed, “and said you left without giving him a chance to apologize.”

Sandra smiled. “That much was true.”

“But I don’t know anything about what happened
after
! He obviously found you in the end, if you went on the date, but I don’t know
how
.”

“Well, I definitely didn’t expect him to come into the office,” Sandra began, and explained everything that happened after Brandon had showed up.

Cassie sighed when she was done. “Do you know how lucky you are to have someone like
him
go through all that effort just to find you? So, what happened on the date? Where did he take you?”

“We went on… a boat.”

“A boat?”

“Actually, maybe it was a yacht.”

“Wow! That must have been something.”

“It was, at first.” Sandra said. She remembered the disappointing ending to the date, and didn’t want to dwell on it, but with Cassie pressing her, she had no choice. “If I tell you about it, will you promise you won’t tell anyone else?”