She momentarily closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “Is there something else?” she asked, injecting what she hoped was enough mild annoyance for him to get the message. Unfortunately, it came out sounding more breathless than anything.
When he didn’t answer right away, she made the mistake of turning around and looking up into his face. Half of it was still cast in shadow, but the half that wasn’t was clearly visible in the lot lights. Dark, intense eyes pulled at her like a tractor beam, that damn diamond stud catching the light.
He was closer now too. Too close. The sultry summer air was nothing compared to the heat radiating off his body. He smelled good too.
“You were going to leave town, weren’t you?” he asked suddenly, surprising her, making it sound like an accusation.
“Yes. So?”
His eyes grew more intense, not less. “But you’ve decided to stick around.”
His voice was low, sensual, sending shivers down her spine despite the cloying heat of the evening. Her nipples pebbled beneath the Franco’s polo, teaming up with other sensitive areas demanding a repeat performance.
She shrugged. “Things change. Again, I ask, so?”
He arched an eyebrow—even that looked sexy—and moved in closer. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to surround her with his presence and potent male pheromones and send those supercharged ions sparking and crackling to life between them. Temptation personified—that was what he was. Six-plus feet of lean, hard male with a proven proficiency providing cataclysmic orgasms. And she so wanted another one of those.
He didn’t have to speak the words to hear what he was saying.
“No. We can’t. I can’t.”
A slight tilt of his head sent locks of his overlong hair draping over his face. Hair that was long enough for her to tangle her fingers in as he performed magic with his mouth between her thighs.
“Why not?”
She blew out a breath and forced herself to step back, hating just how shaky her legs were. “Because ... I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”
She got in the car and drove away before she changed her mind.
She ignored the wave of disappointment that washed over her, followed by the dreaded sense of FOMO—fear of missing out. Then, she spent the rest of the ten-minute drive arguing with herself.
He’s only interested in sex.
Yes, but it was really great sex.
Someone will find out.
So? You’ve been the subject of neighborhood gossip most of your life.
You have Kevin to think about now.
Yes, and I’ve already given up my dream job and my place in the city. Do I have to give up everything because my father’s a worthless, self-serving prick?
Her heartbeat had returned to normal by the time she pulled into her driveway, but the lingering ache of unsatisfied arousal remained coiled tightly in her core.
She’d have to do something about that later. Until then, however, she took a few deep breaths and forced her thoughts back into those more suitable for a big sister having dinner with a brother half her age.
Chapter Fifteen
Heff
Heff watched Sandy’s taillights fade as she drove down the street, noting that she made a left at the next intersection.
What had just happened? She wanted him. He knew that for a fact. Yet she’d balked at a repeat. Why? It didn’t make sense.
Unless perhaps the sex hadn’t been as good for her as it had been for him ...
He shook his head. No, that wasn’t it. She’d been right there with him every step of the way. In fact, it was the connection, that feeling of being totally and completely on the same page, that was most memorable, even more so than the actual things she’d done. The way she’d learned what he liked and what he didn’t by paying attention to his subtle clues. The way she’d responded to the things he’d done to her.
He was vaguely aware of the door leading out of the kitchen opening again. He didn’t think much of it. It had happened plenty of times while he waited in the shadows for Sandy. The bus kid had brought out a few bags of trash and snuck in a smoke or two and some text time.
But this time, it wasn’t the busser.
“Well, hello there. Waiting for me?”
He stiffened at the voice. Shit. Standing as he was beneath the light of the lot lamp, there was nowhere to hide.
She stalked closer, exaggerating the sway of her hips. The predatory gleam in her eye was scary. As a sniper, he recognized it. She was on the hunt, her sights set right on him.
The Southern gentleman in him made him offer a polite smile. “Thought you didn’t get off till ten.”
“Technically.” Her grin widened. “But I bet you could get me off way before then.”
True, but there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.
“How old are you anyway? Nineteen? Twenty?”
She stood up a little taller, thrusting out her chest in the process. “Old enough.”
Not for him, she wasn’t. And even if she were, it would still be a hard no.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Not happening.”
She pouted and then looked genuinely confused. “Then, why are you here, skulking around the employee parking lot?” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s because of her, isn’t it?”
“Who?”
Her lips thinned. “Sandy. What’s so great about her anyway?” she mumbled the last part. “Well, you’re wasting your time.”
He disagreed. “Yeah, why’s that?”
“Because she’s living with someone. When you come to your senses, you know where to find me. And maybe I’ll even still be interested.”
With that, she went back into the kitchen, letting the screen door slam behind her.
Sandy? Living with someone? Heff replayed the words in his head as he made his way back to his car. It didn’t make sense.
Either the girl had just said that to throw him off, or he’d completely misjudged Sandy, and he was rarely wrong when it came to reading women.
That was how he found himself cruising the quiet streets of Sumneyville. Darkness was just settling in. He scanned the driveways and the people out and about, walking their dogs, watering their lawns, looking for either Sandy or her car. He could just call Cage and know everything about her in a matter of minutes, but that would raise questions he wasn’t willing to answer.
He spotted her dark blue Honda Civic toward the edge of town, parked in the driveway of a stucco double block. A Sumneyville police cruiser sat in the driveway on the other side.
Great.
Heff slowed down to get a better look. He caught sight of Sandy talking to an older woman next to boy wearing a backpack. His heart sank. Did Sandy have a kid?
No, she couldn’t. Not unless she’d had him when she was a kid herself. He was as tall as she was, probably fourteen or fifteen.
Not wanting to be seen, he continued down the street and stopped at the Stop sign. In his rearview mirror, he saw Sandy crossing the street with the kid. A stocky kid who kept his head down and walked with a shuffling gait.
Heff turned right, drove a few blocks, and then turned into the parking lot of the motel. He picked a spot in the darkest corner where the streetlamps didn’t quite reach and got out. The place wasn’t far from Sandy’s house at all, he realized, with only a thick patch of trees separating the areas.
He slipped into the woods, appreciating the cooler air and scents of earth and pinesap and leaves.
When he got to the edge bordering the residential neighborhood, he moved east. Thankfully, it was an older neighborhood, and each house wasn’t an exact replica of the one beside it. The double-block stucco was easy to find.
A light went on, and Heff was able to see Sandy moving around in what looked like a kitchen. She opened the window and the inside door and then popped her head out and spoke. Heff heard the conversation clearly in the still night air.
“Hey, Lenny, we’ve got marsala tonight. Want so
me?”
Movement to the side caught his eye.
“Thanks, but I’ve got to head down to the station in a few. Save me some?”
“You got it.”
Sandy went back inside, but in the light that spilled out onto the porch, Heff saw the guy stand up and look out toward the woods, sucking on a vape pen. Heff stilled. He recognized the guy as one of the local cops who’d been hassling Smoke.
After a few moments, the guy turned and went back into his side.
Through the open window, Heff saw Sandy moving around the kitchen along with someone else, the clang of plates barely audible above the sounds of the natural symphony warming up around him as the nocturnal creatures began to awaken.
Heff watched for a short while longer and then went back to his car, processing this latest bit of information. It left him with more questions than answers, but one thing seemed perfectly clear—he needed to suck it up, head back to the Sanctuary, and forget about pursuing anything with Sandy.
Chapter Sixteen
Sandy
Feeling relieved that Lenny wouldn’t be joining them for dinner, Sandy started pulling plates out of the cupboard. She was tired and distracted, and Lenny knew her well enough to pick up on that. Her thoughts were still stuck on Heff’s gaze back in that parking lot. No man had ever looked at her like that. Like he wanted to devour her. It sent tingles down her spine—and not in a bad way.
She told Kevin to wash up while she dished out the food. Instead of sitting down at the table, however, he remained standing, shifting his weight from side to side.
“What is it?” she asked, recognizing his anxiety.
He reached into his backpack and removed a piece of paper, holding it out to her.
“For me?”
He nodded.
She accepted the paper, gasping when she saw what it was—a picture of two horses. One was bigger with a set of expressive eyes and a beautiful, long, flowing mane. The other was smaller, stockier. In the picture, the bigger horse was positioned almost as if it was shielding the smaller one.
It’s us, she thought.
“Kevin, this is beautiful. I mean, really beautiful. Thank you.”
She crossed the kitchen, removed the cheap framed print that hung there, replacing the picture with the one Kevin had made, and hung it back up.
“Looks pretty good, don’t you think?” she asked. “Next time we go to the arts and crafts store, we’ll pick up a better frame and maybe some mat boards too.”
Kevin nodded and sat down. Every now and then, he’d look up from his dinner at his artwork on the wall. Once, she thought she saw the hint of a smile. She wondered if his mother had displayed his art around their house. She made a mental note to pick up some magnets for the fridge too.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said as they did the dishes together. “I got my job with the township back, but that means we’re going to have to make some adjustments. Mrs. Mitchell can’t watch you during the day, so we have to find someplace where you can hang out while I’m at work.”
She chanced a glance his way. He was shifting his weight more emphatically while drying dishes, which was definitely not a good sign.
“You can come with me this week, but there’s a place down in Birch Falls we’re going to visit this weekend. It sounds awesome. They have games and crafts, and there will be other kids there too. And it will only be for a couple of hours each day. We’ll still get to spend every afternoon together.”
When she put the last of the dishes away, she turned around and found him looking at her. Really looking at her. Not the floor, not her hands. It was the first time he had done so, and what she saw in his eyes nearly gutted her.
“I’m not leaving you,” she told him firmly, needing him to understand. “I just need to know you’re safe while I’m working. And if you don’t like it there, we’ll find someplace else. I promise.”
He dropped his eyes and shuffled away. She wasn’t sure he believed her. She couldn’t blame him, but he’d soon learn that when it came to making and keeping promises, she was nothing like their father.
Chapter Seventeen
Sandy
Their visit to ACES—Autism Care, Education, and Services—didn’t go as well as she’d hoped. Kevin was being particularly sulky and refused to acknowledge anyone at the center. It was a nice enough place, and the people there were friendly, but it also seemed overcrowded and understaffed.
The place in Dunn’s Falls, Bright Horizons, seemed like a better fit. Privately owned, it was smaller and more exclusive but also well out of her budget. Even if she could somehow swing the monthly payments, the waiting list to get in was over a year long.
She was discovering that there really weren’t a lot of viable options.
A few helpful souls suggested more affordable places in some of the bigger cities like Allentown or Wilkes-Barre, but they were too far away to make a daily commute feasible. After factoring in travel time and fuel costs with the monthly fees, she’d be better off quitting one of her part-time jobs and just staying home with Kevin. Neither position paid enough to cover the expenses.
By the time she left for her Saturday evening shift at the restaurant, Kevin was in a bad mood, and she was feeling pretty discouraged.
The familiar scents of garlic and basil calmed her somewhat, as did the sights and sounds of the bustling kitchen.
“What about that new place opening up on the mountain?” Jeannie asked when Sandy brought her up to speed on how the day had gone.
“What new place?”
“It’s called Happy Trails or something like that. A physical therapy place based on horseback riding.”
Sandy’s interest perked up at the mention of horses. “You mean, hippotherapy?”
Jeannie lifted her shoulders. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I don’t think it’s one hundred percent operational yet, but Bessy Liedenbach takes her kid up there—you know, the one with cerebral palsy—and swears by it. You should look into it.”
“I will, thanks.”
The restaurant was slammed during the dinner rush, keeping her busy through the rest of her shift. Kevin was still in a mood when she got home. There were no new pictures proudly presented, and her requests to see what he’d drawn at Mrs. Mitchell’s were met only with sullen silence.
She wondered if this was how working, single moms felt every day. The difference was, she wasn’t a mom, and she hadn’t asked for any of this.
As they did the dishes in silence, she thought about how her life had changed so quickly. A month ago, she’d been so filled with anticipation and hope, so close to the light at the end of a very long tunnel. Now, she couldn’t even see a glimmer.
Sandy breathed a sigh of relief when Kevin went up to bed. It had been a long day for both of them. She made herself a cup of buttermint tea and went out onto the porch. She sank down into one of the deck chairs, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet of the evening before pulling out her phone and doing a search.
It didn’t take long to find the place Jeannie had been talking about; there weren’t a lot of hippotherapy places in the area. Danny’s Happy Trail Ranch had a nice, if somewhat sparse, website. There were pictures of the place, a few of the horses they’d acquired, and some helpful links about the benefits of hippotherapy.
As it turned out, using horses for therapy wasn’t just for those with physical disabilities. There were plenty of reputable sources cited, touting it as also beneficial for neurological disorders and autism among other things.
The more she read, the better it sounded. Unfortunately, as she’d discovered many times, if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.
According to the site, the place was still a work in progress, and they were only accepting a handful of clients on a case-by-case basis. That worried her along with the fact that no cost information was quoted on the website.
Another gem of tried and true wisdom: if you have to ask the price
, you probably can’t afford it.
It was the most promising lead she had though, and if it was even half as perfect as it seemed, she had to at least try.
Sandy clicked on the Contact Us button and typed a short but heartfelt inquiry, hit Send, and got ready for bed. She wasn’t expecting to hear anything for a couple of days at least—if at all—so she was surprised when she checked her phone the next morning and saw a reply.
DHTR: Would love to meet you and Kevin. Stop by at your convenience and we’ll talk. —Tori
Sandy pushed down the spark of hope that tried to take hold and reminded herself not to get too excited. A reply and an invite didn’t mean things would pan out.
Sandy went back to the website, hoping to find some days and hours of operation, but all it said was, By appointment only.
She typed out a reply.
Sandy: Great! Can we set up an appointment?
The response came within minutes.
DHTR: Are you free this afternoon?
That spark of hope flared.
Sandy: Yes.
DHTR: Great. Come by anytime. We’ll be expecting you.
Sandy was in great spirits when she went downstairs and found Kevin in the kitchen. Even if the place didn’t pan out as a viable option, she felt sure Kevin would enjoy a trip to a horse ranch.
“So, I was thinking maybe we could do something fun today,” she said, pouring a cup of coffee for herself. Once again, she thanked herself for going for one with an automated timer. It prevented those agonizing moments while waiting for the brewing to finish. “What do you think about going to visit some horses?”
He paused, the Cheerio-covered spoon halfway to his mouth, and looked at her. For the first time, she realized they shared the same color eyes.
“Horses?” he said.
Not only had he looked at her, but he’d spoken. Until that point, she wasn’t sure he could.
Best Laid Plans Page 9
