Only in My Dreams Read online

  “You know where to find me.”

  His gaze fixed on something behind her. She turned to see Kyle in the doorway. He was looking at them with a bemused expression. Shit, had he overheard? No, they’d been talking very quietly and the sounds of construction from upstairs had to have drowned them out.

  “See you later, Sara,” Dylan said, his voice crisp and formal.

  She glanced at him, saw that he was looking at Kyle and not her, and murmured, “See you.” She walked toward Kyle, who moved out of the doorway.

  “Hey, Sara-cat.”

  “Hi, Kyle. I’ll be in the office.”

  “See you in a few. Just want to chat with Dylan about a few things.”

  She nodded, then started off along the dirt path, pondering whether she’d made a huge miscalculation about Dylan. Maybe he was perfectly happy with the rules of their secret affair and maybe she was doing what she’d promised not to—becoming clingy. Suddenly she could see how things could become very, very messy. And wondered—regretfully—if they should’ve kept to their original agreement.

  Chapter Nineteen

  DYLAN PARKED A block or so behind the historic home that housed Hazel, one of Newberg’s best restaurants. With the weather warming as summer approached, the exterior was a bustle of outside seating, festive lights, and dozens of patrons. The space looked fun and inviting, but Dylan knew their reservation would be inside. Bill hated to dine next to a road because of the smell of exhaust, and the restaurant sat on the main highway through town.

  Passing the outdoor seating area on the lawn, Dylan climbed the stairs to the porch at the front of the house. He pushed the door open and was instantly greeted by someone standing behind the bar in the room just off the foyer. “Amy will be right with you.”

  He nodded and pivoted on his heel to his right toward the dining area. Cubbies of wine nestled into the wall to his left showcased the best the Willamette Valley had to offer. A young woman in a black blouse and khaki skirt came from the dining room. “Good evening. Are you looking for your party?”

  “I am. Davies?”

  She smiled. “Just through here.”

  Dylan passed the smaller seating area with the wine cubbies and moved into the main dining room. His own smile froze in place as his eyes landed on the party—of three—against the wall. Mom, Bill, and some unknown young woman with bright blond hair and dark-rimmed glasses set on her pert nose. They all saw him at once, but it was Mom who spoke.

  “Over here, Dylan.”

  The hostess went to stand beside his chair and gestured to the menu, which sat beside his place setting. “Here you are.”

  “Uh, thanks.” He sat down, his entire body feeling as though it were crafted of wood. Very hard and brittle wood.

  “Hello, dear,” Mom said in a sunny voice that made Dylan want to grind his teeth. “This is Tracy Brinkley. Tracy is a new physician’s assistant at work.”

  Dylan had been forced to take the chair next to Tracy so he turned to shake her hand. He might be seething inside, but he could be polite, damn it. “Tracy.”

  She smiled, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses. The brown shade of her eyebrows hinted that perhaps blonde wasn’t her natural color. “Nice to meet you.”

  A strong, cloying smell, like Nordstrom during their anniversary sale that Mom had dragged him to when he was younger, wafted toward him. He preferred Sara’s fresher, more subtle scent.

  Dylan picked up his menu and stuck his face in it before he could glare at Mom or Bill. Mom supplied the conversation until the server came by and shared the specials. Bill ordered a bottle of pinot and Dylan ordered a beer just to be contrary. They’d foisted a blind date on him and if the only independence he could claim was his beverage, then so be it. How could Mom do this to him?

  “Your mom tells me you’re in construction?” Tracy asked. “How’s that?”

  “It’s good, thanks.”

  “Tracy spent two years in the Peace Corps,” Mom said approvingly. “It’s almost like you being the army.”

  Except it wasn’t remotely. “I was an engineer and served mostly stateside. I’m sure Tracy’s assignments were far more exciting and exotic. And totally unrelated to military operations.”

  Tracy laughed. “Um, yes. I don’t know about exciting, but more exotic for sure. How was the army?”

  “Good.”

  Mom gave him a disapproving stare, which he returned with a “how could you?” glower.

  “You’ll have to forgive Dylan,” Bill said, laughing the fake laugh he used to fill awkward silences. “He’s not the best conversationalist in groups. You get him one-on-one and he’s more comfortable.” Bill didn’t look at Dylan as he said this, which was just as well so he couldn’t see the disbelief that was surely etched in Dylan’s expression. Bill had no idea what sort of conversationalist Dylan was. They hadn’t had a meaningful conversation since Dylan was twelve and Bill had told him in no uncertain terms that he was a nuisance to his family and that he only put up with his presence because of his mother.

  Mom nodded in agreement with Bill, touching his arm. “It’s true. Dylan is so much better one-on-one. After dinner, we’ll let you two have dessert alone.” She smiled and settled back in her chair, seeming quite pleased with her plan.

  The server brought their drinks and Dylan took a heavy pull on the IPA while the wine was opened, sampled by Bill, and poured into their three glasses.

  “I told Tracy about your divorce and how you haven’t had a girlfriend in ages,” Mom said, obliterating any hope that she’d been even a little bit subtle about her matchmaking. Fucking A, could this evening get any worse?

  The answer was a resounding yes.

  Just then a trio of Archers walked into the dining room: Tori, Kyle, and Sara. She stopped abruptly and stared at him. He nearly stood but Tracy took that moment to touch his arm and ask him another question. He dragged his gaze away from Sara to glance at Tracy, not hearing a word she said. When he looked back, both Tori and Kyle were peering at him surreptitiously while Sara stared down at her menu, her hands buried in her lap. If knew her at all, she was rubbing her leather bracelet for sensory input.

  Kyle said something to her. She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  The conversation at Dylan’s table limped along. Mom and Bill laughed at something. Sara stood suddenly, knocking over her water. Kyle jumped up and rubbed his hand along her upper arm.

  Sara’s face was pale and when her gaze connected with Dylan’s once more, he read anxiety and distress.

  He pushed back from the table. “Excuse me.” He crossed the small dining room. “Sara, are you all right?”

  She glanced up at him, but said nothing.

  “We just stopped in on our way back from the airport.” Tori watched him bemusedly, likely wondering why he’d come over to check on Sara. Damn, he hadn’t thought that through at all. “We dropped Mom and Hayden off.”

  Shit. Dylan had forgotten they were leaving today. After spending Tuesday night with Sara, he’d worked late the rest of the week and Sara had been also been busy, probably helping her mom before she left, now that he thought about it. Their “benefits” were starting to become an expectation, and that wasn’t what they’d signed up for.

  He was aware of near silence in the restaurant, of more than a dozen diners’ eyes fixed on them. And now their thing had gone from totally clandestine to ragingly public.

  She looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Having dinner with my mom and Bill.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Her gaze traveled past him briefly.

  He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her siblings. “I didn’t bring her, my mother did. Sara, I didn’t know.”

  “Is there something going on here?” Kyle asked, looking between Dylan and his sister.

  “Apparently not,” Sara said. The hurt in her eyes twisted into Dylan’s gut like a knife. She turned to Kyle. “I want to go home.”
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  “No problem.” He threw Dylan a look of disgust while he massaged Sara’s shoulder.

  Dylan stepped to the side in an attempt to catch her eye. “Can I take you?”

  She pulled away from Kyle and strode from the restaurant.

  Dylan caught up with her on the porch. “Sara, wait.”

  She paused on the top step, but again was looking behind him. Dylan heard the door open and glanced over his shoulder. His mother.

  “Where are you going, Dylan?”

  “Mom, I need to leave.” He didn’t bother masking the anger he’d been stifling since he’d arrived. “You shouldn’t have brought a blind-freaking-date.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Sara moving toward the street. Tori and Kyle came onto the porch and pushed past his mom. Kyle shot him another dark look as he started down the stairs.

  Fuck, this was an unmitigated disaster. Goddamn families. “Mom, I’m going.” He jogged down the stairs and followed the Archers to the sidewalk. Thankfully, they were walking away from the outside seating area so they would hopefully avoid any further scenes.

  “What am I supposed to tell Tracy?” Mom called after him.

  Dylan didn’t bother turning around, just kept moving toward Sara, who was walking quickly along the sidewalk.

  “Sara!” He called, running to catch up to her and passing her siblings in the process. He grabbed her hand. “Let me take you home, okay?”

  She tried to pull away, but he kept his grip firm, yet gentle.

  “Please?”

  After a long moment, she nodded.

  He knew Tori and Kyle were still behind him, and he turned and exchanged looks with them. They seemed skeptical, but didn’t stop him. Dylan put his arm around Sara and walked her around the block to where his truck was parked.

  He opened the door for her, but she turned and pierced him with a sizzling blue stare. “I just want to know one thing: Am I your only secret?”

  SARA WATCHED THE play of emotions on his face—surprise, distress, resignation. None of them told her what she wanted to know. She knew she didn’t have the right to be jealous or upset. They’d agreed to friends with benefits, and there had been absolutely no discussion of exclusivity. Still, she didn’t see how he could do the things he did with her, talk with her the way they did, or share the things they’d shared if he didn’t care about her as more than a friend. It all felt like a lie, which was why she’d asked the question.

  He took her hands and met her gaze with an intensity of his own. “You are my only secret. At least you were. A secret, that is.”

  She nearly smiled at that. The proverbial cat was definitely out of the bag.

  She climbed into his truck and waited for him to get in beside her. He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he turned toward her. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

  She felt itchy and twitchy and completely overstimulated, but there wasn’t much to be done right now. She couldn’t roll around on the floor or do wall pushups. That left joint compressions and muscle flexing. “You could compress my joints.” She held her left hand out. “Put your hands on my wrist and sort of squish the joint, like you’re going to pull my hand off, and then push it back.”

  He looked alarmed. “Pull your hand off?”

  “Not literally. Just gently. You’ll feel what I mean when you try it.”

  He put his hands on hers and where his touch usually sparked need and desire, tonight it elicited a sense of comfort. He pulled on her hand and then pushed back. “I see. Is this right?”

  She nodded. “Ten times. Then the other wrist. Then you can do my elbows.”

  He finished with her left and moved to her right. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. My mom thought it would be great to set up a blind date and not tell me about it.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun.”

  “It wasn’t.” He finished with her wrist and moved to her elbow.

  His hands were rough from his work, and tanned. She looked soft and pale next to him. “You don’t talk about them much. Your family.”

  He didn’t immediately answer. When he moved back to her right elbow, he glanced at her face. “There’s not much to say.”

  “Seriously? You have two sets of parents, three brothers and a sister, and there’s not much to say?” Why hadn’t she broached this with him before? Clearly there was something up with him and his family. “Your mom just set you up without your knowledge. You have to have plenty to say about that. I would.”

  He finished with her elbow and settled back in his seat. “What would be the point of bitching about it? She won’t listen. I’ll just be careful not to go out with them anymore. Hell, I knew better than to do that in the first place.” He muttered the last part, but she heard him.

  She buckled her seatbelt. “So you take the path of least resistance? It’s better to ignore them or pretend they don’t exist than to deal with the situation?”

  He started the truck. “Yep.”

  Sometimes he could be so damnably uncommunicative. “It really wouldn’t help to talk to her?”

  He pulled out into the one-way street and got into the right lane so he could turn and double back toward Ribbon Ridge. “I’ve tried, and it never changes anything.”

  “Will you tell them who I am? About why you left them to take me home?” She practically held her breath.

  He slid her an inscrutable glance. “I’m sure I’ll say something.”

  The sadness over her mother’s departure and the shock of seeing Dylan on a freaking date bubbled up inside of her and threatened to make her explode. “Let me know what you plan to say so we can keep our stories straight because, unlike you, I’ll be giving Tori and Kyle a real explanation for what happened tonight. They likely already figured it out.” Her voice had climbed, so that she sounded pissed and shrill. She didn’t care.

  “I know they did,” he said quietly. “Tell them whatever you think is necessary. I plan to tell my mother that you’re my employer and that you’re going through a rough time. I helped you out tonight.”

  She turned in her seat and gaped at him. “What? My siblings can think we’re together but your mom has to think I’m your employer? Are you embarrassed by me?” It had been years—since she’d left Ribbon Ridge—since she’d worried that people thought of her as weird or quirky. And she was. She couldn’t change who she was and she didn’t want to. Moving away had taught her to accept her differences and even value them.

  He cast her a long look as they drove out of Newberg. His brows were pitched low over his eyes, which currently reminded her of the ocean during a winter storm. “No, I’m not embarrassed by you. Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, because you don’t want your mom to know we’re fuck buddies?” She’d gone for crudeness on purpose because he was being an ass. “That is what we are, isn’t it?”

  “Sara, that’s not fair. We agreed to keeping this secret because of your family and because of the work situation.”

  “That’s what I thought, but maybe it’s secret because you just don’t want anyone to know.”

  He swore under his breath, but she caught it. “My family is completely fucked up. I don’t share my life with them on purpose, and that has nothing to do with you.” He looked over at her. “Nothing, okay?”

  The ferocity in his tone and the intensity of his gaze made her nod. She was quiet for a few minutes, turning over what he said in her mind. At length she asked, “Why is it so effed up?”

  He exhaled loudly, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “It just is. I grew up with two families, neither of which felt like a real family to me. It’s not like you and your family, how you all have this shared experience. Sure, I’m close to my siblings, but it’s different. There are things my brothers shared growing up, experiences my sister enjoyed—all things I wasn’t a part of as I was shuffled back and forth.”

  Sara’s heart twisted
for him. His voice was full of disdain, but there was an underlying hurt. “That sounds very difficult.” She was hesitant to say more, lest she stop him from talking.

  “That’s why I don’t share things with them. It isn’t about you. I realize this thing between us is more than a thing now. But that doesn’t mean they have to know about it.”

  So he acknowledged their relationship was something more, but not enough to tell his family about her. That should bother her—hell, it did bother her—but she was trying to understand where he was coming from. If he didn’t place a lot of value on his family, sharing his personal life with them wouldn’t be important. But how did she feel about the lack of regard he had for his family when hers was so critical to her?

  She studied his profile as he drove. Looking at him pulled at her heartstrings and she wondered if she might be falling in love with him. She abruptly turned away. That wouldn’t help anything right now.

  The cab of the truck was eerily quiet as they drove into Ribbon Ridge. As they passed through the main part of town, he adjusted in his seat. “Neither one of us planned for this to grow into something more. This isn’t good timing for you, and it isn’t really for me either. This job is really important to me and to my crew. My main focus has to be winning the next phases. It will mean everything for our futures.”

  Wow, this sounded like a breakup speech. Sara gripped the handle on the door and dug her fingers into the leather.

  Silence took over again until they neared the long drive to the house.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he said.

  She shrugged, her body still careening out of control. When she got inside, she was going straight for the tire swing that hung in the gym downstairs. Swinging was one of the oldest sensory tools in Sara’s experience, particularly rotating instead of being propelled just back and forth. That would slap her back into shape.

  He pulled into the circular drive and put the truck into park in front of the stairs leading up to the main door. She noted he didn’t turn the engine off, which was fine. She had no intention of inviting him inside.