Dream Come True

by Gina Calanni

  The sound of a vehicle slows down next to me. “Sahara, what are you doing?”

  I stop in my tracks and glance at the driver. It’s Brandon. I shake my head.

  “Sahara, get in.”

  I shake my head again without making eye contact. I need to keep going and get away, far away from everything. Before I can take another step, Brandon’s arms are around me. He’s scooping me up and placing me in his truck. I don’t fight him for two reasons: he’s stronger than me, and I’ve got nothing left to fight for. I don’t have any more energy to try and do anything other than comply. I’m done.

  Brandon stops the truck in front of a big lake I’ve never seen before. “Pretty nice, huh?”

  I nod. It is. The water is a deep blue and it’s framed by green, mossy fields that flow into a forest of evergreens. Any other day it might seem amazing. But not today. Today, I’m dealing with more heartache than I could ever have thought was possible. First, Ms.… my aunt… I had an aunt who cared about me and my mama… I swallow hard the big, huge lump of pain that wants to rise up out of my throat and be vocal for all to hear. No. I don’t want to hear it. I want to push it down and pretend. Pretend this is just another day. I can get through it if I pretend. Just like when I was little and had to think at some point my daddy was going to come in and kiss me goodnight. One too many nights I stayed up with that imagination, that sad dream that he cared. And now I’m sitting in front of a vast, wondrous lake next to Brandon, a man I can’t figure out and who I’m almost afraid of trying to. I have too much on my plate with my aunt. Yes, my Aunt Myra passed away. I can’t take second guessing anyone right now. I just can’t. I need solid info. No wavering, no mystery, just a cut and clean representation of who people are supposed to be. Scratch that. Not supposed to be, but are. Yes, I need to see people as themselves without any hidden reasons or excuses. No cover ups, no niceties, plain and simple and real. Yes. Give me real. No imitation American cheese. If that’s all there is to offer, I’ll pass.

  “Why were you walking?”

  I shake my head. I don’t even want to repeat out loud what my mama just told me.

  “What happened, Sahara? Is it your mama?” He squeezes my leg.

  “Yes, she…” I take in a deep breath. “She said she told Aunt Myra not to say who she was because she didn’t want anyone connected to my daddy to experience any happiness.” Tears fill up my eyes and a realization smacks me upside the head. I’m connected to my daddy. Does she not want me to experience any joy either?

  Brandon breathes a sound from his teeth that is a mixture of air and a gasp. “Sahara, that is harsh. But she is hurting, obviously.”

  “Right, but it’s not okay to inflict pain on others.” I wipe under my eyes.

  “Did she apologize?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been more hurt, other than by my daddy.”

  Brandon unbuckles me from my seat belt and pulls me into his lap. “It does matter. You know why I came to work at Blue Ribbon?”

  “Because you wanted to follow in your daddy’s footsteps?”

  Brandon laughs. “Not exactly. I was so angry at my dad that I wanted to learn how everything was run at Blue Ribbon and then I intended on opening up my own ice-cream factory just so I could shut his down.”

  I jerk my head back. “Really?”

  “Really.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “But you know what, those feelings changed, and do you know why?”

  “Why?” I swallow; I’m almost not sure if I want to know.

  “Because I met the prettiest goldilocks that I’ve laid eyes on and it wasn’t just her gorgeous exterior that drew me in.” His lips leave light, feathery kisses over my fingertips. “It was her interior that really did me over. I realized that Sahara Smith wouldn’t want to be with a guy that took down his daddy’s business.”

  I laugh. “That’s true.”

  “Of course it’s true; you make me want to be the kind of man that you would be proud of.”

  I blink my eyes as the water is filling up again. I am glad I’m in Brandon’s arms and not just because they are amazing but because they are holding me up. I’m falling hard, like, hit the pavement hard.

  “Sahara, I haven’t spoken with my daddy about anything serious since my mother’s death. But, today, we had a heart to heart; it wasn’t long, but it was enough. I said some things I needed to say and I’m glad I did. Things aren’t all sweet and fine but they’re better and I’m going to keep working on it. Because we have the time to do so.” He kisses my palms. “Think about that with your mama. She made a mistake but she is remorseful and wants to make it right in the only way she can.”

  I nod and our lips meet before any words can come out, and that’s okay because I don’t want to talk. There aren’t any more words that need to be said right now in this truck. Brandon has got me under the depths of his love and I want to forget about everything else for now and breathe him in.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The aroma of baked goods hits me hard as we step into Aunt Myra’s house. My mama is in the kitchen with an apron on and not a clear counter space in the entire room. She’s baked more food than I think the whole town could eat.

  “Mama, what are you doing?” I take a step closer to the table to inspect each tasty treat.

  “I’m baking and making some life choices.” She puts the pan of cookies on top of the stove. “Sahara, I’m sorry. I’ve done a lot of things wrong over the years and I’ve withheld a lot of love and…” She glances down. “Happiness.” Her lips rub together. “But not anymore. I’m going to be better. Please forgive me.” She grasps my hands and squeezes them.

  All those years of no affection and my mama is holding my hands. She hasn’t held my hand since I was five years old and was mindful not to cross the street without her. I let my eyes meet hers and we must appear to be twins, both full of tears. I let myself crash into her shoulder and for once she wraps her arms around me and holds me.

  “I’m sorry, Sahara. Will you forgive me and let me make it up to you? I promise to be better.”

  “I love you, Mama.” My chest is shaking from all this emotion. “Yes, I forgive you.”

  “Thank you, baby girl. I promise, things will be different.” She pulls back and pats my hair. “I want to hear all about your job and…” She eyes Brandon who is standing in the doorway. “And one more thing. I brought this for you. It belongs with you. You are my sweet bluebonnet baby girl.” She hands me the ceramic bluebonnet bell. And it rings as it makes its way to my hands. My insides are playing a melody that can’t be captured on the stereo… too many emotions to mark off with As, Bs, and D minors. This is major.

  Brandon squeezes me in tight as if he knows I might fall. For goodness’ sake, that man is mine and he is doing me over just by being present. “Brandon, yes, let me properly introduce you.” I nod up at him. “Brandon, this is my mama… Ms.…”

  “Jolene, please call me Jolene.”

  “Nice to meet you officially, Jolene.” They shake hands and my mama pulls Brandon into a hug. She must be in a hugging mood today.

  “Yes, very nice to meet you. Y’all have some goodies. I’m going to go and take a rest for a minute.”

  “All right, Mama. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Sahara.” She hugs me tight and heads out of the kitchen.

  “You are beyond gorgeous.” Brandon pulls me into his arms. “There is only one thing that I don’t like about you.”

  I jerk my head back. “What kind of backhanded compliment is that?”

  “It’s not. I’m just being honest with you. I love everything about you but one thing.”

  I take in a deep breath and if I were a dragon I would let out a fire of emotion onto Brandon and burn all these amazing baked goods my mama just made. “What is it that you don’t like about me?”

  “Hey, don’t get all worked up… it’s something that can be changed.” He winks at me.

&
nbsp; “Huh, well, maybe there is something I don’t like about you that can be changed, too.”

  Brandon glances down for a second. “What don’t you like about me, Sahara?”

  Well, shoot, he’s got me there. I let my eyes leave his for a second and then they are back on his dreamy blues like I can’t even look away if I want to. “Nothing.”

  His teeth flash a white, glaring grin. “That’s good to hear.” He lets out a laugh.

  “So what is it that you don’t like about me?” I almost don’t want to hear it but I’ve got to. I need to know what Brandon doesn’t like about me and if it is something I’d want to change if necessary.

  “Your name.”

  I scrunch up my eyebrows. “You said you liked it when we first met.”

  He grabs my hand and opens it up. “Oh, Sahara I do like – in fact, I love it.” He kisses my palm. “It’s the Smith part I don’t care for.” He puts a tiny box in my hand. “Marry me, Sahara. I want you to be a Rollins.” He is down on his knee. “I’ll officially ask. Sahara Smith, will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on earth?”

  I am not sure how it’s even possible, but the tears are back and they are flowing. I open up the box and it’s a sparkly diamond ring that is a circle. A circle of love. I glance down at him. His eyes are like how he was on the porch when he said he thought I had changed my mind. Not a chance. “Yes,” I say in somewhat of a yell because goodness knows I’m about as excited as a Christmas tree owner on the twenty-fourth of December that sold the last tree in the lot.

  Brandon hops up from the ground and places the ring on my finger. “I knew it would fit.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s beautiful, Brandon. Thank you.”

  “It was my mom’s. I love you, Sahara, from now and until eternity. We will have ice-cream babies and I’m never going to let you go.”

  “Brandon, you’re the best scoop of ice cream I’ve ever encountered and I intend on savoring you for more than just a taste test.”

  “Sahara, a factory full of ice cream couldn’t come close to the energy that radiates off of you.” His lips meet mine and I know we are all about temperatures and keeping things cool, but that has never been the case with Brandon. He warms me up and melts every limb of my body and I’m a puddle of love in his arms. Not on the floor waiting to be mopped up. He is there for me and scoops me up and makes me whole again. This is a man I can count on; this is a man that buckets full of dreams are made of. He is my blueberry pie that has a taste of honey and a dollop of whipped cream melded together with the tastiest of all Texas has to offer. And it’s a flavor that I want to scoop forever.

  If you loved Dream Come True then turn the page for an exclusive extract from the next book in Gina Calanni’s Ice Cream Dreams series, Dream A Little Dream.

  Chapter One

  The room is cold and stark, like an igloo. Florissant lights a shiny reminder we are in fact not in the snow. I assumed it would be bright, but I almost need sunglasses. The walls are white and the freezers are chilled silver and clean. Uber clean. Which is a good thing for an ice cream factory. Goosebumps pop along my arms. I made it. I’m in the Blue Ribbon Factory. Me, little ol’ Sadie Santiago, from Surfside. A wave of reality washes over me. I’m supposed to be paying attention.

  “Welcome to the 5th Annual Ice Cream Games.” Tasha Matthews and her big blond bouffant claps her hands together. Her hair is wound up in what might assume is to mirror an ice cream cone. That’s really committing to your career. Wow. I can’t even…it’s beyond a commitment, this is a lifestyle.

  Note to self: never get that into ice cream that you try and look like a scoop. No, Sadie that is too far. Even for you. I’m committed to my career and definitely to this contest. The Ice Cream Games. Twenty contestants from all over the country have been flown or, like me, traveled via car to compete in the Ice Cream Games. Over the next ten weeks we are going to make brand new types of ice cream, use tools that aren’t meant for ice cream, and finally have a booth at the First Annual Ice Cream Festival.

  “Now contestants. I’m going to draw your names for partners.” Her face is beaming like she just won the lotto. I’m not sure why she is this excited about drawing names. She might be on a sugar rush for all I know…maybe one too many samples of the chocolate drops or something.

  Tasha runs her eyes down a list and points and clears her throat as people began to pair off. I scan the room as different people stand up in accordance with their names. A dark rounded head of hair, which is followed by a thick neck, which it would need to be sturdy to hold the massive head it was attached too. Not the physical size that would be the struggle it is the abundant level of arrogance that lay inside his brain. My nostrils sealed tight. Breathe. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. This was not a huge surprise, he is also a chef and he did also attend Ice Cream Dreams Camp for three years back to back. I swallow hard. No big deal. That was six years ago. I’m fine. I moved on. My heart skips a beat for a second. This has nothing to do with him. Absolutely nothing at all. It’s nerves. Yes, I’m nervous about the games, it makes perfect sense. Not one microbe of my body is drawn to him, not even a melted drop of emotion could even be considered a result of him. Nope.

  But still…Miles Morrow. Why did he have to be in this contest? Wasn’t there another one he could go for? Any other one that did not also include me as an entrant? I thought he lived in New York. I mean, I know it’s possible for him to leave the state. But why here and now? Why Texas? I thought he was too good for southern manners anyways, he definitely had the east coast charm down. The witty banter and confidence that could snap any bowtie into shape. He had been all class until his departure. Or our departure, from each other. I swallow hard but the lump in the back of my throat is bigger than an iceberg ready to take down an ocean barge. I refuse to go under.

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  ISBN: 9781474047494

  Dream Come True

  © 2016 Gina Calanni

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