Only in My Dreams Page 22

  “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

  SARA 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?”

  Sara had texted Tori about it after meeting with Aubrey. “I’d only just made the decision yesterday morning. The deal came together quickly.” And then things had gone to hell at the family meeting.

  “Are you happy? Is this okay?”

  Happy was stretching it, but she was definitely okay. “My bank account will be thrilled.”

  Mom laughed, and Sara’s heart nearly burst with the joy of the sound. “That’s good. But you’re sure you’re all right? I know how too much upheaval can wreak havoc on your system.” She moved her massaging to Sara’s other arm. “Maybe you should come to France with us.”

  “No.” Again, she maybe answered too quickly. She offered a smile. “I’m too invested in the wedding cottage project. Plus, Chloe and Derek’s wedding. I couldn’t possibly go.”

  “Of course, and I’m so pleased. I’ve talked to Tori and Kyle, and they’ve promised to make sure you’re regulated.”

  Great, they’d be trying to baby her more than ever. Sara edged back so that Mom dropped her hand from her arm. “That wasn’t necessary. I moved away from home and did quite fine.”

  Shadows of concern dimmed her mother’s gaze. “I know, but I still saw you regularly, and now I’ll be so distant. I’ll call you every day.”

&nbs
p; Every day? “I’ll be fine.” It occurred to Sara that maybe Mom needed that. She leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You call or Skype me whenever you want. You’ll be home in just a few months for the wedding. Less than that, really.”

  “Speaking of the wedding, I’ve been looking for a house for Hayden and me and I think I found the perfect one. It has an amazing garden that I think you could adapt for the cottage at The Alex. I’ll send lots of pictures.”

  Sara loved hearing her Mom excited about something. It had been far too long since she’d talked about things in that way—with forward thought and hope. “That sounds great.”

  “Well, I have a lot to do—so much to accomplish before we leave next Saturday.”

  So soon. But it seemed to be for the best. And Sara was happy for Hayden. It had been hard to gauge his reaction last night, but he had to be completely jazzed to finally be pursuing his dream.

  “Will you be around later?” Mom asked. “I want to go over some things with you, Tori, and Kyle. I know you and Tori won’t be living here permanently, so I’ve asked Kyle to oversee some things while I’m gone.”

  Sara doubted Kyle’s trustworthiness, but didn’t say so. But since she’d all but decided to come home, she could keep an eye on things. “Now that I’ve sold the business and plan to work at The Alex, I’ve been considering moving back to Ribbon Ridge.”

  “You are?” Mom’s eyes lit up. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to France after all.”

  “No, Mom, you should.” Sara thought that Dylan was probably right—that it would be good for her marriage too.

  “Thank you for understanding and supporting me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” With a parting pat on Sara’s shoulder, Mom turned and went back toward her bedroom. Since Sara’d been busted sneaking in, she adjusted her course and backtracked to the kitchen.

  Tori was standing just inside the door, cradling her coffee mug. Dressed in a stylish black and aqua running outfit, she looked Sara up and down. “Same clothes again, huh? What am I missing?”

  “Nothing. I just didn’t want to bother with the winter clothes at my condo, that’s all.”

  Tori’s blue-green gaze was skeptical. “Are you seeing someone?”

  Sara was careful this time not to rush to answer. “No, but that might be nice.”

  Tori laughed. “Then let’s make that happen.”

  “Are you offering to take me out and find me a guy?”

  Tori’s eyes shuttered, which was not the reaction Sara was expecting. Tori loved to go out and mingle, and people enjoyed her effervescent and witty company. She was the sort of person people liked to be around and in turn she thrived on social settings. “I was kidding. I’m off for a run. Catch you later.” She set her nearly empty mug down on the counter, put her ear buds in, and left.

  Sara went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When she closed it, she jumped. Standing on the other side was Kyle. He must’ve come in from the garage apartment when Tori had left because Sara had only heard the door shut once.

  He rubbed his palms down his faded jeans. “Hey. I was worried about you last night.”

  Sara bristled. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “Actually, what I see is you fidgeting with the hem of your vest and the tension in your shoulders. I read you better than anyone but Mom.”

  Damn Kyle for being observant and astute and for still knowing her so well. “If you’re trying to score points with me, it’s too little too late.” She turned to go upstairs.

  “Sara, wait.” The note of desperation in his voice made her pause. She slowly pivoted. His familiar blue-green eyes, so like Tori’s but framed with lighter lashes given his blond hair, were dark with some emotion. “Please stay and listen to me, just for a few minutes. Will you give me that?”

  Now he wanted to talk? After all this time? Sara breathed through the anxiety crawling up her spine. “Why should I give you anything?”

  He moved toward the gathering room, which was really just an extension of the kitchen. Tall windows overlooked the backyard, and a seat stretched along their length. He stood in front of the window seat with its bright red and yellow cushions. “Will you come sit with me?”

  Because they were family and because she was so weary of all of the conflict here, she went to the seat. Her steps were slow, almost reluctant, but she got there eventually. He sat down and she perched a few feet away on the edge. She opened her water and took a few long swallows. The coolness soothed the tumult inside of her. “Say what you want to say.”

  His lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. “You aren’t going to go easy on me at all, are you?”

  “Why should I? Not only did you up and leave, you basically cut us off—cut me off.” She looked away from him, feeling the pain of his desertion all over again. But then pain lived so close beneath the surface that even the slightest scratch opened every wound she was working to repair.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I was selfish.” He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. She wasn’t ready for that level of closeness. Not yet. “Sara-cat, I had to go.”

  He hadn’t called her that in years. Dad had called her “kitten” for as long as she could remember and when she’d turned ten, she’d said she wasn’t a kitten any longer. That hadn’t stopped Dad from calling her that, but it had prompted her brothers to tease her by calling her Sara-cat instead. Once the nickname had lost its bite, Kyle had adopted it as his endearment for her. It was the one thing he could’ve said to make her stop and listen. Really listen.

  She turned toward him on the bench. “Why?”

  Kyle looked down at his hands, which he’d laid palm-down on his thighs. “It’s hard to be me when Liam and Hayden are who they are. And Tori and even Evan. And especially you.”

  “Me?” She set the water bottle down on the seat next to her and gripped her elbows, flexing her muscles. “Why would I cause you to leave?”

  He smiled at her. “Because in so many ways you’re far more independent and capable than any of us. You’ve built a successful business—away from Ribbon Ridge—without a network of people or a support system.”

  “That’s not exactly true. I had Mom and Dad. And Hayden, Derek, and Alex were great.”

  “Sure, but you’ve never relied on a group of friends, or people who purported to be your friends.” His tone turned briefly dry. “You go full speed ahead on your own power. It’s amazing to behold, and makes me look kind of lame.”

  Sara stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing. He was jealous of her success? She knew he felt like a bit of a failure next to his siblings. He was the only one who hadn’t gotten a bachelor’s degree or gone into “white collar” work. He’d been a chef and then a bartender. “You know, we all have something that makes us different from everyone else. Something that makes us feel like the odd kid out.”

  He exhaled, his eyes drooping a bit. “And no one knew that better than Alex, though I never realized to what degree. I still can’t believe he ended his life. I get angry, sad, frustrated, sure, but never in a million years would I consider giving up.” He didn’t sound judgmental, but like he was trying to process what none of them had been able to make sense of. “What was he like before he died?”

  Sara released the tension from her arms and shoulders and dropped her hands to her sides. “If you’re trying to find some sort of clues or signs to the depths of his mental illness, there weren’t any. I came home almost every week to go with him and Mom to his lung appointments. He was as pragmatic about things as he’d always been.” It had been terrible for him to be sick. All of their lives, he couldn’t play the sports his siblings played and he couldn’t enjoy the same activities like swimming or biking. Even his bedroom was on the main floor because he couldn’t go up and down stairs very easily, while the rest of their bedrooms were together upstairs. There’d been a separation between him and all of them that simply couldn’t be breached.

  Memories assaulted her.
She peered over at Kyle who was staring somewhere in the direction of the fridge—or maybe past that toward Alex’s bedroom. “Do you remember staying up late in Alex’s room?”

  Slowly, Kyle’s lips curved up. He turned to look at her. “Of course. Watching David Letterman or Saturday Night Live.”

  “Do you think Mom and Dad knew we did that?”

  “How could they not?” Kyle chuckled. “Six kids moving en masse downstairs—that has to be hard to sleep through. I’m sure they thought it was great.”

  Sara could feel the press of her siblings against her as they’d all piled onto Alex’s queen-sized bed. A smile overtook her and warmth bubbled up inside. “I need to work harder to remember things like that. Or like the time you took me to homecoming.” She watched for his reaction.

  His smile broadened. “That was so fun. Everybody came back here for an impromptu pool party.”

  “And you were homecoming king.” She saw him perfectly in her mind’s eye: wearing a navy suit, his model good looks seemingly made for a crown perched atop his head. He’d planned to go to the dance with a group of friends—the “in” crowd, including one of the homecoming princesses who had a major crush on him and who was crowned queen alongside him. However, when Sara’s date, a friend from her history class, had come down with the flu, Kyle had changed his plans and taken Sara. She’d normally avoided the social groups that Kyle, Liam, and Tori were popular in—it had been just too hard to fit in. For that night, though, she’d felt included and like she had fit in.

  “Homecoming king.” His laugh was a bit harsh sounding. “That seemed the pinnacle back then, but it wasn’t anything really. See, I hit my peak at seventeen.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  He arched a brow at her. “Name one remarkable thing I’ve done since then.”

  “You graduated at the top of your class from culinary school.”