Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel)

by Adair, Marina

  CHAPTER 14

  Can you slow down? This isn’t a race.”

  The hell he would. Trey’s hands gripped the wheelchair handles and he glared down at Lexi. She was glaring back.

  If he had known before he parked that Lexi was going to get all woozy on him, he would have insisted on pulling up to the patient drop-off area. But Lexi had said she was fine, that the walk and fresh air would do her good, and then she stumbled. Right into Trey’s arms.

  “And stop panting in my ear.” Lexi crossed her arms over her enormous belly. “You’re gasping like you’re pushing a tank uphill.” She turned back around in her chair, her expression one of complete horror. “It doesn’t feel like that, right? Like I’m a tank?”

  “Nope,” Trey lied. “Can barely feel you.”

  If there was one thing he’d learned over his two week stint as Hubby-for-Hire, it was that women were sensitive. Pregnant women? They were unpredictable and, when provoked, went for the jugular—or into hysterics. Neither one was something Trey was open to at the moment. Not with his brothers arriving home today. Which was how he found himself pushing Marc’s first unborn, and all of his wife’s weight, up the steep drive to St. Helena Memorial, for her twenty-four week Fit-Mama appointment.

  Lexi had assured him that there would be no needles or womanly photos of any kind, but that he could count on her asking questions. Lots of questions. None that had to do with the sex of the baby, since it was to remain a secret—she’d made that more than clear.

  What he hadn’t counted on was Lexi having to stop three different times to use the bathroom on their seven-minute ride to the hospital, or that her appointment started at nine, instead of the eight o’clock pick-up time she had requested. Which meant that if they didn’t get a move on, he’d miss his short window with Sara. Something that had quickly become his favorite pastime.

  “Are you okay?” she asked as he pushed her through the doors, not stopping until they were in the elevator.

  “We’re in a hospital,” he replied, watching a nurse push an old man on a gurney—right toward them. Trey didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to be stuck in a tight-ass box with a dying man and swinging IV bags. So he punched the close button. Five times.

  “What are you doing?” Little Miss Do Gooder asked, pushing the open button and inviting the needles in.

  Wheels rolled. Feet shuffled. And the elevator filled.

  Trey focused on the floor, and away from the deathbed on wheels that strolled inside—oh God, was that blood in the bag? Trey gagged a little.

  “You’re looking a little green. Want to come lie down in my office for a few minutes?” the nurse asked.

  “She’ll be fine, she’s sitting down,” he said to the floor—which was moving, odd since the doors still hadn’t closed.

  “I was talking about you, Trey.”

  Trey looked up and—ah Christ—maybe he did need to lie down. There was no way his luck could be this bad.

  Kayla stood on the opposite side of the gurney in a pair of scrubs with a special smile just for him. Normally he would have taken that smile and the wicked promise that went with it, but she didn’t do it for him. Not anymore.

  “I’m fine,” he lied, stepping closer to the wall—just in case. He hoped Kayla didn’t notice the sweat beading on his forehead or the way his hands were shaking. The last place he wanted to be was in a hospital.

  “Yes, you are,” she said with a more than welcoming tone to her voice. Lexi didn’t even bother to hide her amusement with the current situation. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

  Where he should be is back in his suite. Getting ready for his morning private with his favorite dance teacher. Today they were tackling the Argentine tango. The idea came to him when he found one of her costumes in the prop closet. It consisted of a pair of strappy black heels, fishnets that stopped mid-thigh, and a miniscule dress with a slit up to her bellybutton—and no panties.

  Trey watched the elevator buttons change as they slowly ascended, then looked at his watch. He was sweating—but for a whole other reason. Because, honestly, there wouldn’t be much in the way of dancing. They’d get three seconds in, she’d do one of those fancy toe flicks, and he’d flick right back—until the top of her dress was around her waist and her legs were around his middle. Then she’d kiss him as though she’d been craving his touch as much as he had hers.

  “Actually, Trey is in town until the end of the month,” Lexi supplied ever so helpfully. And to keep the conversation flowing during the longest elevator ride of his life, she added, “He’s even going to the Winter Gala.”

  That got Kayla’s interest. And it was Trey’s signal to leave. If it hadn’t been for the old man moving his arm, causing the clear tubing attached to his hand to pull and Trey to see spots, he would have moved faster when the door dinged and opened on the fifth floor. He managed to move out of the elevator and into the hallway. Just not fast enough to avoid Kayla and her double Ds calling after him.

  “Hey, Trey?”

  He wanted to keep moving, pretend he didn’t hear. But Lexi pulled the brake on the wheelchair, leaving him with no option but to turn around. Which pissed him off, but amused his sister-in-law to no end because, once again, his past was catching up to him. Only this time Trey had no interest in revisiting it. “Yeah?”

  Kayla leaned over the edge of the gurney, far enough for Trey to know that she was a big fan of bright-purple lace, and make the old man’s day golden. “If you’re looking for a partner for the Gala, I do love to kick my heels up and shout.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but unfortunately, I already have a date.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

  “Maybe,” he lied. There wouldn’t be a next time. Not with Kayla or any of the dozens of women from his past who were just like her; stacked, ready, and didn’t give a shit about anything but a good time.

  Marriage might not be in the cards, but neither was floating from one shallow hook-up to the next. Not anymore. Not after Sara. He wasn’t looking for forever, but he couldn’t keep moving through life without connection.

  “You have a date?” Lexi said over her shoulder. “To the Gala? This is news.”

  “No news.” Trey wheeled her toward the waiting room at the end of the hallway. And before she could say something else about who he was going with, what his date would be wearing, or why he felt the need to keep secrets, he added, “Just an evening with Nonna. Short stick, remember?”

  “Oh, Regan and I thought you were going to ask Sara.” Lexi looked disappointed. And damn it if he wasn’t right there with her.

  “Well, I’m not. We’re just friends.”

  Based on the rules Sara set, there was no way he could take her to the dance and be discreet, especially when there was nothing discreet about the way he was feeling.

  Trey considered parking her facing the wall, then realized that she’d talk more because she’d get bored with nothing to stare at, so he spun her around and aimed the wheelchair toward the fish in the tank. Without a word he walked over to the reception desk, signed Lexi in, then walked back and sank into the waiting-room chair.

  “You could ask her, though,” she said. “If you wanted to.”

  Trey ignored her.

  “Don’t you want to? Unless…”

  He caved and opened one eye.

  “Well, Marc told me about your mom and the dance. I remember that Gala and, um, we just figured that since you are already going, maybe it would be nice to go with someone who makes you smile.”

  “Why would you think Sara makes me smile?” he wanted to know. Because they’d been careful. Or tried to be, at least. And once upon a time, not so long ago, that would have been enough.

  Before domestication, Trey would come to town, take care of business, and get out. No one said a thing or gave him grief o
r asked endless questions about where he landed on the smile scale. Then his brothers had fallen in love. And, God help him, he had two sisters-in-law, and a third one on the way, and he couldn’t even dream about a quiet night in his suite to unwind without one of them thinking there was something wrong.

  “You mean, Sara, who never misses coming in on her forty-five-minute break to chat and get her coffee fix, yet she hasn’t shown her face since Monday.”

  “Maybe she’s just busy with the Gala.”

  “Maybe.” Lexi smiled and Trey knew that they were caught. “But that doesn’t explain why you left the hotel at nine fifty-five exactly, to disappear down the alley behind her studio, only to reemerge forty minutes later—”

  “Dance lessons.”

  “—with your suit all wrinkled and your hair finger-combed. Smiling.”

  “Are you spying on me?”

  “Small town, Trey. Just being neighborly.” God, she even sounded like Marc now, especially when she gave a low whistle and sized him up—more than a little accurate. “Same time, same place. That’s a pretty big commitment for a guy like you. And a pretty big smile for a foxtrot.”

  “Yeah, well, smile or not, I’m leaving as soon as the paperwork is ready to be signed.” He even sounded bitter to his own ears.

  Lexi slipped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know. Marc called me from the airport and told me that they got the land. And that you agreed to live at the villa until construction is complete.”

  “It’s a perfect location,” Trey said, repeating Gabe’s earlier sales pitch. “The house is less than an hour from an airport, it is central to most of our European clients, and I can oversee the construction when I’m home.”

  “This is Marc and Abby’s deal. Why isn’t one of them overseeing the construction?”

  “Marc?” Trey sat back and looked down at her belly, giving her a get-real look. To her credit she didn’t even blink, just held her ground. “That isn’t an option. And Gabe just got Abby home. Plus, she can’t spend more than a week away from Nonna and her nieces, so forget a year. Nah, Gabe wouldn’t let her go, and even if he did, she’d be miserable.”

  “Then hire someone.”

  Trey laughed, but it was heavy and hollow. “A DeLuca needs to be there, to make sure everything is handled. Plus, I was already moving anyway. This is the easiest solution for everyone.”

  “For everyone but you,” she said quietly. “I know what it’s like to constantly be the one to hold it all together. To give up what you want to make sure that everyone else’s life runs smoother. And I also know that no matter how hard you try or how much you tell yourself that it’s all right, that you’re all right, it’s hard. It’s awful and exhausting and eventually it will drain you.”

  Lexi had been stuck for years in a marriage that was doomed even before they traded I do’s. She gave up her family, her dreams, everything, to make her husband’s life easier, to make their marriage work. In the end, she’d been left with nothing—but a fresh start. Which she’d made with Marc.

  Italy was Trey’s fresh start. It would allow him to be the kind of sales guy DeLuca Wines needed, without the daily reminders of how his selfishness cost them nearly everything.

  Trey pulled her in for a side hug. Looking at her was too hard. “I’m good, Lexi.”

  The minute the words came out, he realized that they were true. For the first time in years, he was beyond good. Only he was afraid that the second he stepped on that plane, the happiness would fade and the big void that had defined the past thirteen years of his life would return. And his time with Sara would end.

  She wasn’t the kind of girl to take weekends here and there, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who could offer more. Not with this new project.

  “This is what I want.”

  “You are so full of it.”

  Maybe she was right and moving didn’t have the appeal it used to. But the project put a justified six-thousand miles between him and—everything in St. Helena.

  “And since I know that the DeLucas would rather die than admit their well-intentioned plans were rapidly spiraling out of their all-powerful control, I’ll tell you what I told Sara.” Lexi smiled and damn if he didn’t find himself checking the clock again. “Marc and I are babysitting Holly after the Gala. We’re setting up a tent in the middle of the suite for a mock-campout. It sleeps four, so we have one space open, if Cooper needs a sitter.”

  “What did Sara say?” With his suite being just across the hall from Marc’s it would be the perfect practice run. Cooper would get to do a sleepover, and Trey would get some kid-free time with Sara. Kid-free time that allowed for a very adult breakfast in bed.

  “Oddly, that she didn’t need a sitter. It seems no one has asked her to the dance so she is going it solo.” Her mouth curved slowly in challenge.

  “She’s going to the dance solo because she doesn’t want date.”

  Lexi leveled him with a look that clearly meant, you’re kidding, right? “Every woman wants a date on Valentine’s Day, Trey. It’s in our DNA. If she is saying she doesn’t want one, then it is because she is afraid you won’t ask.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “And yet you’re still around,” Lexi pointed out.

  Yeah, he was. Until he was needed somewhere else. Which could be any day now, and when he got the call, he’d have to go. And Sara would stay. And that was going to suck. Big time. But right now, he had a unique opportunity to spend an entire evening with her, talking and dancing and, yeah, getting naked was on the top of the list. So was waking up with her in his arms.

  All he had to do was ask.

  “She needs a sitter,” he said.

  “Good. Then Marc and I will handle getting the kids home and fed after the opening ceremonies, if you are comfortable handling, well, everything else.”

  “Alexis DeLuca,” a nurse with a mop of gray curls and teddy bear scrubs called out. She met Lexi’s gaze and smiled. “The doctor will see you now.”

  She went to stand and Trey pushed her down. “Sit. Marc will kill me if I don’t go in with you.” He rolled her toward the nurse and added, “And Lexi, there isn’t anything I can’t handle.”

  “Uh-huh.” Something about the way she sounded had his guy-dar kicking in, telling him to cease and desist. Turn that wheelchair around and get the hell out of there.

  “Good morning,” the nurse said, flashing them a sunny smile. “I hope you had a chance to review the information that the doctor sent home with you last visit.”

  “I did.” Lexi pulled out a stack of pamphlets and her list of questions. “I was excited to talk about the benefits of breastfeeding over formula, and what kind of pump I should put on my registry. I brought my brother-in-law here to take detailed notes.”

  Sara hung up the last of the silver-flocked tutus and felt herself breathe a little easier. Everything was falling into place. A new order of snowflake costumes had arrived that morning, right sizes, right number, and right in time for their dress rehearsal this afternoon. Then, tomorrow all forty-seven—forty-seven!—of her dancers would meet at the St. Helena Community Park for a final run-through to get acquainted with the stage and mark their positions.

  On the home front, Cooper had mastered the square knot and, with Trey’s help, was well on his way to earning his merit badge. She was still uneasy about him going away for two whole nights without her, especially with Hunter being their elected hive captain, but after Trey sat him down and explained that he was moving to Italy, how could she say no? Especially when Cooper was more excited about Trey living in the birth country of the Ferrari than he was upset about him moving.

  Sara was upset about him moving. The Ferrari just didn’t do it for her. She went into this knowing that he was going to leave, but even having the advance warning to prepare wasn’t going to help.
Nope, Sara thought as she slid on her fishnets, she liked him way too much for that.

  She’d just walked behind the counter and slipped on her tango shoes when the bell on the door jingled and in burst Trey. His hair was windblown, his clothes wrinkled, and he was breathing heavy. The way he normally looked after their meeting. He was also holding a pink box with a little white string, which could only have come from the Sweet and Savory, and spoke right to her heart.

  “Hey,” he gasped, resting against the door and leaning his head back to take in deep breaths. “Sorry I’m late. Lexi. Pumps.” With his free hand, he made a billowing gesture in the general direction of his chest. “So many choices. Ran late.”

  Sara looked at the clock. One minute until ten. Maybe that “like” problem went both ways. Or he was overly excited about their tango lesson.

  “Actually, you’re right on time. And what happened to coming in through the back door?” she asked, stepping out from behind the counter, the click of her slinky heels echoing off the hardwood floor.

  “Because I came here to ask you a question. One that is deserving of a front door entrance and—Jesus.” Trey looked up and went still. His eyes riveted on her body.

  As long as they got to the naked portion of the visit, and soon, she was fine with a little staring. She liked the put-together, business Trey, but him in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that showed off his incredible pecs? And abs? And that flat stomach that rippled under her hands when she—

  “A question,” his voice was thick and husky, “that if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll never get to.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I know I just saw you last night, but—”

  “Yeah, me too.” He pushed off the door and met Sara in the middle of the dance floor. “And we’ll get there.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.” He slid one hand down her waist to her bottom—then lower, past the hem of her skirt until he reached the top of her stockings. She moaned at the sensation of his fingers tracing the edge where fishnet met bare skin. Moaned even louder when he stopped. “I want to do this right.”