Staring back at him, Sarah tried to hide her disappointed expression. “I … uh… Just give me a minute, please?”
He sneezed, then blew his nose.
Yuck.
“Sure.” Sniff. “I’ll be rearranging the minivan.” Sniff. His smile brightened up his entire face. “It’s one of our newest models. It’s a beaut.” Sniff.
Beaut? Who the hell said that?
Better still, who drove a minivan? Last Sarah had checked, she was thirty-eight and single. Not a soccer mom. And Bill… The man was forty-five, never married, no children. What the hell did he need with a minivan?
Oh, God.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just the chemicals. Had she been drinking, too? She didn’t think so, but surely there was a good reason for her spur-of-the-moment lunacy, a.k.a. agreeing to a weekend away with this man. Why had she thought this was a good idea?
Damn.
She couldn’t do this.
Sneaking back to her bedroom, Sarah shut herself in, leaned against the door, and pressed her hands to her chest. She was having a panic attack. She’d been an idiot thinking she could go through with this. Bill was a nice guy, but … well, there was absolutely no chemistry between them. The second she opened the door to see him standing on her porch, she’d remembered that. No matter how hard she had tried to play him up in her mind, it never seemed to work. The mere thought of getting naked with the guy…
Uggh.
And now they were off to… Shit, she didn’t even know where they were going. He’d told her it was a surprise, a chance to see something she’d never seen before. He’d gone on and on about how this was the opportunity of a lifetime, about how they would be immersed in a group of uber-wealthy people who would want to get to know them on a much deeper level. His boss had offered Bill the invitation, since he’d been unable to attend because he already had plans or something like that. Bill even went so far as to say that this could further their careers, the opportunities endless. And though she’d been skeptical, Bill had assured her she’d have a good time.
Because Sarah was spontaneous like that.
Right. The guy clearly didn’t know her all that well. She had a routine so strict she rarely deviated from it. Grocery store on Sunday, water the plants no later than seven o’clock in the morning, spaghetti for dinner every Wednesday. In fact, she even had certain scents of body wash designated for each day of the week. Definitely not spontaneous.
But this was clearly a business thing for him. How bad could it be?
A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door and her heart went into overdrive.
She had to tell Bill this was a mistake.
“Uh … Sarah …” Bill’s timid voice sounded through the door. “There’s a guy here. He said he needs to talk to you.”
A guy?
“I’ll be out in a sec,” she called back, taking a deep breath.
When she didn’t hear his footsteps, Sarah knew Bill had decided to wait for her.
Great.
“You can do this,” she muttered to herself. “You have to do this. It would be rude not to.”
Hesitantly, Sarah reached for the knob and twisted. Inching the door open, she peered through the crack. Sure enough, Bill was standing in the hall, his eyes puffier than before.
Steeling herself, she opened the door fully and stepped out, offering him a smile. “Did he say who he was? Is he sellin’ something?”
“No, he’s not selling anything,” Bill answered, snorting. “Do you have cats?”
Sarah glanced at him, trying to catch up with his change of subject. “What?”
“Cats?” Sniff. “I’m allergic.”
Well, that explained it.
He didn’t even wait for her to respond before he said, “Anyway…” Bill glanced around. “He’s the big guy Jake was talking to at that party you took me to last weekend.”
Big? What did that mean? Tall? Fat? Muscular?
Sarah didn’t know any big guys, regardless of the definition. None who would make a house call anyhow.
As she made her way back to the living room, she saw that no one was in the house. She cast a confused glance over at Bill. He nodded his head toward the front door.
Stepping outside, Sarah came up short when she saw Dylan pacing the sidewalk that connected her front porch to her driveway. “Dylan?”
His head jerked toward her, his feet stilling. He didn’t smile, but she felt the warmth of his gaze as it traveled down to her feet and back up.
“Hey,” he greeted, his eyes darting behind her.
That was when Sarah realized Bill was standing there, watching them.
“Could you … uh … give us a minute?” Sarah asked him politely.
Bill nodded, but he didn’t look pleased with the request.
When the front door closed behind her, Sarah casually took two steps down, stopping on the bottom one when Dylan came to stand in front of her. Even with the added inches from the step, she had to look up at him. “Is something wrong? Is Jake okay?”
Dylan’s gaze slid to the front door, then back to her. He nodded. “Yeah, he’s fine.”
Silence.
And it wasn’t the comfortable kind where it was obvious they were both thinking. This was the unsettling silence that made Sarah want to fidget. She fought the urge.
“Why are you here, Dylan?” A hint of frustration edged her tone and she couldn’t help it.
Dylan’s eyes dropped to his booted feet briefly before lifting.
It was her turn to look at him. He was wearing a black hoodie and a pair of dark Wranglers. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. He looked nervous.
When he met her eyes that time, there wasn’t an ounce of apprehension in his gaze. No, what Sarah saw was … something that looked a lot like desire.
“Why are you here?” Sarah repeated, suddenly suspicious.
“I don’t know.” The honest confusion in his tone tugged at a soft spot in her heart, but Sarah pushed it away.
“I’m headin’ out for the weekend,” she informed him, although she figured he already knew that. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d shown up on her doorstep today of all days. If she had to guess, her nephew had shared the news with him, and now she was going to have to call Jake and tell him to keep his big mouth shut. Dylan might be Jake’s boss at CISS, but that didn’t mean he had to know the details of her life.
“With him?” he asked bluntly, chin tilting toward the house.
“Yes. His name’s Bill.”
“I remember.” His tone was hard. “Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where’s he taking you?”
Sarah shrugged.
“You don’t know? Or you don’t wanna tell me?” He sounded more like a parent than a man she hadn’t seen or talked to in years.
“I don’t know. It’s a surprise,” she said, hands going to her hips defiantly.
Who did he think he was?
Dylan nodded, but that awkward silence descended once again.
“Look, Sarah…” He didn’t continue, merely stood there, staring at her.
She wished she could read his mind. Why was he here? What was on his mind? And why the hell had it taken three freaking years for him to make a move if that was what he was doing?
“I…” Sarah glanced behind her at the house. “I really need to go.”
His dark eyes pinned her in place, and that time she was certain she saw heat. Her insides smoldered, the same way they did every time Dylan looked at her like that.
Something was definitely going on with him, but Sarah reminded herself that she wasn’t interested. He’d made it abundantly clear that he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her.
“I honestly don’t know why I’m here. I couldn’t help myself.”
That didn’t tell her a damn thing, but it did succeed in pissing her off.
“You should leave.”
/> Dylan nodded again. “I’ll go. Just tell me one thing.”
Sarah lifted her eyebrows in question, waiting for him to continue.
“Is it serious with you and…?”
“Bill?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said with a nod.
It wasn’t serious and she knew that it never would be, but she told Dylan, “I don’t know yet.”
“I can live with that,” he replied, another spark of heat igniting in his dark eyes.
“What does that mean?” she asked, knowing she shouldn’t.
“Nothin’,” he said with a smirk. “Yet.”
“Dylan…”
“You’ll be back on Sunday?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’d like to come over.”
She frowned.
“To talk.”
Sarah stared at him, not sure what she was supposed to say, if anything. Luckily, Dylan cut the strained silence with a small smile and a wave as he took two steps back.
“I’m leaving, but I’ll be back on Sunday.”
Her heart cracked at the sound of his voice, but she bit her lip, holding her thoughts back.
When he turned, she took a deep breath.
Watching him walk away made her stomach hurt. She wanted to call after him, invite him in for something to drink. But she couldn’t. Not only was Bill inside, but she knew she had to keep those feelings for Dylan buried deep. He would only hurt her emotionally, and that was the last thing Sarah ever wanted to endure again.
She remained on the porch until Dylan drove away. She didn’t turn back even after the taillights of the sweet ’65 Chevy truck he drove disappeared out of sight. It was the same truck he’d been restoring in high school. Interesting that he’d held on to it all this time.
“You okay?”
Crap. She’d forgotten about Bill although she wasn’t sure how that was even possible.
Turning to see her weekend date standing on the porch behind her, Sarah forced a smile and decided right then that she would go with him. Even if things didn’t work out between them—which she knew was going to be the case—she needed something to keep her mind occupied for the weekend. They were friends, after all.
And at that moment, she desperately needed a friend.
DRIVING AWAY, KNOWING THAT SARAH was going on a weekend getaway with that jerk-off made Dylan’s gut churn. Seeing the confusion on her face when she’d realized he’d stopped by had been worse. It’d been a reminder of what had happened between them the last time he’d been at her house.
Something that constantly weighed heavily on Dylan’s mind.
Ever since that night, while he’d immersed himself in alcohol and his own grief, pretending Sarah didn’t matter, he’d realized what a sad fucking case he was.
She mattered.
So much so that it had been his embarrassment over the fact that he’d fucked her and walked away that got him to open his eyes. What made it worse was the fact that Sarah was the only woman he’d had sex with since Meghan. The only one.
Granted, it had taken a couple of weeks of reliving that night over and over in his head before he finally decided to do something, but if Dylan was honest with himself, she’d been the real reason he had decided to stop drinking.
And maybe that was what scared him shitless.
Sarah had always mattered. Even back in high school before he’d fallen in love with Meghan, he’d felt something for her. And when they’d … fucked … against her living room wall … well, he’d felt it again then, too, which had scared the fucking hell out of him.
That night, when he’d broken down and cried after they’d… Yeah. After. It still embarrassed him to think he’d fallen apart so easily in front of her. He hadn’t cried because of his loss or because he missed Meghan. He’d lost it because of the guilt he felt. His feelings for Sarah confused the shit out of him, and he’d felt remorseful, as though he’d cheated on his wife. His dead wife.
To think he might be too late with Sarah now … that bothered him more than anything.
But she’d said she wasn’t sure things were serious. That meant there was still a chance. Right? Surely she wasn’t in love with that Bill guy. He didn’t even seem her type. He drove a fucking minivan, for fuck’s sake. Christ. Dylan was forty-two with two kids, but he didn’t drive a damn minivan.
He never would, either.
But Sarah hadn’t batted an eyelash when she said she was going away with the guy.
With his foot to the floor, Dylan reached the highway, his thoughts going a million miles a minute as he merged, guiding the truck into the fast lane. It wasn’t until he passed a familiar exit that he realized he’d gone too far. He’d passed his house. Instead of pulling off at the next one, making a U-turn, and heading home, Dylan kept going. Maybe he’d drive until he ran out of gas. Driving around aimlessly didn’t sound like fun, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. It sure beat going back to Sarah’s and insisting that she send Bill packing.
He’d been putting the miles behind him for roughly ten minutes when his cell phone rang. He hit the button to answer the call. “Yeah?”
“Dylan?” his sister greeted.
“Hey, Ash,” he replied hoarsely.
“You okay?” Ashleigh asked, her tone wary.
Dylan didn’t know the answer to that, nor was he sure if she was referring to something specific.
“Where are you?” she questioned when he didn’t say anything.
“Driving.”
There was a slight pause before she spoke again. “Why don’t you come by?” He could hear his niece in the background, sputtering on about something. “Riley’d love to see you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he muttered. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
“Perfect. See you in a little bit?”
“On my way. Fifteen minutes or so.” Dylan hung up and took the next exit to make a U-turn back toward Ashleigh’s. He’d go spend time with his niece and hope that he could calm down. He wouldn’t allow his emotions to control him anymore, even though it would be so easy. And when he was done there, maybe he’d go find a meeting.
Yeah. He’d definitely be doing that.
Roughly twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Ashleigh and Alex’s house, the one Ashleigh had moved into before she’d started seeing Alex several years back. Dylan still remembered helping her get set up, noticing for the first time the awkward tension between Alex and Ashleigh. Needless to say, he’d been blindsided to find out one of his best fucking friends had been crushing on Dylan’s little sister for years. Something he still tried not to think too much about even though they were married with a child.
When he climbed out of his truck, he saw his niece standing at the front door, nose pressed up against the glass, waving her little hand furiously, a huge grin on her sweet, cherubic face.
“Hey, sweetness,” Dylan greeted when he pulled open the glass door and stepped inside.
“Unca D!”
Snatching her up in his arms, Dylan squeezed her and blew a raspberry against her neck, making her laugh. With a sweet little chuckle, she started squirming, ready to be put down. Dylan set her back on her feet and watched as she sped off toward the living room.
“Hey,” Ashleigh acknowledged with a surprised look on her face, peeking around the corner as she dried her hands on a dish towel. “That was fast.”
“Where’s Alex?” Dylan questioned, glancing around the house. It still looked the same as the last time he’d been there, expect for possibly more toys scattered on the floor.
The scene reminded him of when Stacey and Nate were little. There had always been toys scattered from one end of the house to the other. He’d worked tirelessly to keep them put up while Meghan had laughed at him, telling him it was pointless. She’d been right. No matter how many times he’d put blocks back in a box or packed Hot Wheels cars into a bin, they always seemed to find their way back onto the floor.
“He should be
back any minute,” Ashleigh answered. “He ran to the store to grab a gallon of milk.”
“I coulda picked it up on my way,” Dylan told her, following Ashleigh into the kitchen.
She nodded toward the bar, and he took a seat while she pulled a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator. “I think he needs to get out of the house sometimes. Riley’s definitely daddy’s girl and she doesn’t give him a moment of peace.”
Dylan knew that Alex would move heaven and earth for both Ashleigh and Riley, but he understood needing a minute to breathe every now and then. Dylan had depended on his grandfather for so long, needing someone to help with Stacey and Nate after Meghan had died… Thinking back on it now, he realized he’d probably leaned on Pops more than he should have.
“So, how are you?” Ashleigh inquired, carrying the pitcher to the counter.
“I’m … good.” Maybe not great, but he would survive.
Pouring the tea, she smiled up at him, then grabbed a glass. She slid the back of her hand over his scruffy jaw after she set it in front of him. “You need to shave.”
“Nate told me the same thing,” he groused, rubbing his fingers over the bristle on his face.
He did need to shave. It’d been at least two weeks since the last time he’d picked up a razor.
He wondered what Sarah had thought when she’d seen him. He hadn’t thought much about his appearance when he’d crawled out of bed and headed right for his truck as soon as he woke up. His conversation with Sarah’s nephew last night had kept him up most of the night, and he’d needed to see Sarah for himself.
Now, he wasn’t sure that’d been the best idea.
“You talk to Sarah lately?” he found himself asking before he could think better of it.
Ashleigh stopped as she placed the pitcher back in the refrigerator, her head swinging in his direction. “Jake’s aunt?”
Did she know another Sarah?
Ashleigh closed the refrigerator door and turned away from him.
“Did she say something?” Ashleigh asked, her gaze sliding toward the window over the sink.
“No.” Staring back at his sister, he realized something was going on that he didn’t know about. “Should she have?”
Before Ashleigh answered, the door leading to the garage opened, and Alex stepped into the kitchen carrying a gallon of milk. His sister’s attention immediately slid toward her husband, and Dylan knew she wasn’t going to answer his question.
Distraction (Club Destiny Book 8) Page 8
