A Not-So-Perfect Past

by Beth Andrews

Blaire wrapped an arm around Nina’s shoulders and squeezed. “What are you afraid of?”

  Nina almost laughed. What wasn’t she afraid of? Seemed she lived her life in fear. Fear of making another mistake. Fear of disappointing others.

  Fear of her growing feelings for Dillon.

  “I am attracted to Dillon,” Nina said as she laid her head against her sister’s shoulder, “but I shouldn’t be. I don’t want to be.”

  “Because of his past? Or because of your past? Or because of what people will say?”

  Nina sighed. “All of the above, I guess.”

  The toilet flushed and the stall door swung open. Mrs. Valentine stumbled in her low pumps, giggling as she caught her balance and continued toward the sink. “Lovely wedding, wasn’t it?” she asked, drying her hands.

  “Beautiful,” Blaire agreed.

  The older woman gave a little finger wave before she pulled open the bathroom’s door. Once they were alone again, Blaire said, “I know this is none of my business and you didn’t ask for my advice—actually, you never ask for my advice.” She shrugged. “But that’s a whole other conversation. Anyway, what I want to say is, trust yourself.”

  “Thank you, Obi-Wan. When do I get my light saber?”

  “Ha ha. Your wit amazes me.” Blaire shook her hair back. “Now, as I was saying, you’re smart, beautiful and talented but you don’t give yourself enough credit. You need to trust that you know what’s best for you.”

  Nina crossed her arms, tucking her bag against her side. “You mean like I trusted that Trey was best for me?”

  Blaire wrinkled her nose. “Honey, Trey fooled all of us. Our entire family thought he was a good guy until he cheated on you. But somehow, after all you went through, you kept going.”

  She shrugged and one of the cap sleeves of her wide-necked dress fell down. “As if I had a choice. I have two kids, remember?”

  “We all have choices. You could’ve chosen to hide in bed. You chose to trust yourself enough to get up every day—for your kids, yes, but for yourself, too.” She squeezed Nina’s hand. “You trusted your instincts about buying the bakery from Grandma and Pop, about the changes you wanted to make and you were right. So why can’t you trust yourself when it comes to your personal life as well?”

  Nina’s throat constricted. What if Dillon didn’t want her?

  “What have you got to lose if you do make a mistake?” Blaire asked. “And even more important, is what you want worth the risk?”

  DILLON SIPPED his beer and tried to pretend he wasn’t watching at least fifty people—including the chief of police, a prominent attorney and several small business owners—shake their groove thangs to the Village People’s “YMCA.”

  If the DJ played the macarena, Dillon might just have to hurt him.

  He’d never had reason to visit the lodge before and had to admit he was impressed both with the reception and the building itself. A makeshift dance floor had been set up in front of the massive stone fireplace with round, white-covered tables taking up the rest of the large room. A full bar sat in an alcove next to the hallway that led to the restrooms and, most likely, the kitchen.

  The cathedral ceilings were broken up with crisscrossing, glossy cherry boards. Before the sun had set, the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up the entire front wall afforded a breathtaking view of the snow-covered mountains.

  He’d gone above and beyond in his brotherly duty—not just in walking Kelsey down the aisle, but by spending the day with 200 people who were all too afraid to make eye contact with him. He’d kept to himself, eating alone at the bar and not speaking to anyone unless specifically spoken to. An easy enough task, considering the only people brave enough to approach him so far had been Kelsey, Jack and Emma.

  He’d even stayed long enough to witness all the hokey traditions—from the bride-and-groom dance, to the cake-cutting, to the tossing of the bouquet and garter.

  And to be honest, watching some guy—even a guy who’d just married her—reach up his sister’s dress for her garter was its own kind of torture.

  Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing here.

  He took another drink. Okay, so he knew why he’d stayed so long. He may have come to the wedding for Kelsey but there was only one reason he’d endured three hours of this.

  Nina.

  She looked amazing. Her blue dress hugged her breasts and waist, flaring to just above her knees. And her sexy, silver heels…He couldn’t stop staring at her. Even her hair. He’d never seen her wear it in anything other than ponytails and braids, but today it fell past her shoulders in golden, corkscrew curls.

  His fingers itched to touch it. To find out if those curls were as soft as he imagined.

  “You know,” Allie said as she sidled up next to him. “I can honestly say that, in all of my life, I have never been stood up.” She paused. “Until last night.”

  The music changed to “Living On A Prayer.” Dillon glanced back at the dance floor to see Nina smiling as she danced with some guy in an Army uniform. “I got tied up.”

  “If you mean that literally, and in the best sense possible, I’ll forgive you.”

  “I had to…help a friend.”

  She squealed in delight. “What? You’ve made your first friend? I’m so proud.”

  He smiled. “You are such a wiseass.” He turned the beer bottle in his hand. “Nina needed some help—”

  “Aaah…”

  He scowled. “There is no ‘aaah.’ She was in a bind and I gave her a hand.”

  “What did she need help with?”

  “I just…hung out with her kids,” he said quietly. Nina’s entire family had attended the wedding and while he’d noticed the kids left about thirty minutes ago with their grandparents, Nina’s sister and obnoxious brother were still around. And the last thing Nina needed was for them to know he’d spent most of the night with her and the kids.

  “You babysat Marcus and Hayley?”

  “It’s no big deal,” he said, embarrassed and edgy. “Sorry I didn’t show up last night, though. Let me make it up to you by buying you a drink.”

  “It’s an open bar.”

  He grinned. “I’d still be happy to order it for you.”

  “In that case, I’d love a glass of red wine.” He turned and placed the order and within two minutes handed her the wine. She thanked him and took a sip. “Well?”

  He kept his gaze on the dance floor. “Well what?”

  “Aren’t you going to comment on how I look? Tell me I did a good job walking down the aisle? Anything?”

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, “as you well know since every man in here can’t take his eyes off you.”

  “Not every guy.” She nodded. “Anything you want to share with your old buddy?”

  “Nope.” He finished his beer and set the bottle on the bar behind him.

  “You’re not going to tell me what’s going on between you two, are you?”

  He leaned back against the bar. “Nope.”

  She sighed. “Fine. I guess we’ll just make small talk, then. Wasn’t the wedding beautiful?”

  What was it with women and weddings? “It was good.”

  “Careful, your romantic side is showing.” She wrapped her arm around his. “And it was more than good. It was perfect. Just look at how happy they are,” she said, pointing at Jack and Kelsey on the dance floor.

  Allie was right. They looked happy. Complete. He was glad Kelsey had found that sort of connection, that sense of belonging. He’d never thought it possible for either of them.

  It gave him hope.

  He just wasn’t sure he wanted hope. Because the only thing worse than not having any hope, was having it dashed.

  “Now that the small talk is out of the way,” Allie said, “we can get to the meaty stuff. You have a thing for Nina, huh?”

  He tore his eyes off the woman in question to glare at Allie. “Don’t go there.”

  She just grinned. “Fine. And I don’
t have to go there since she seems to be coming to you.”

  He stiffened. Allie didn’t move, kept her arm wrapped around his, her body pressed to his side. When Nina reached them, she looked nervous and unsure. And so damn beautiful, he couldn’t breathe.

  She smiled tremulously. “Hi.”

  He nodded.

  Her smile faltered. “Hi, Allie. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Allie said. “You, too. That blue is amazing on you.”

  Nina tugged her sleeve back onto her shoulder. “Thank you.” She rubbed her forefinger and thumb over the base of her left ring finger. “Uh…the wedding was lovely.”

  When he kept silent, Allie said, “Yes, it was.” Then she gave the back of his arm a vicious pinch. He pressed his lips together and glared at her. Of course, she just ignored him. “The appetizers were delicious. And the cake was beautiful.”

  “I had a lot of help,” Nina said, glancing at him.

  In the background, the DJ announced the next song, Norah Jones’s “Come Away With Me,” and Allie once again broke the tense silence. “Oh, I love this one and I haven’t had a chance to dance with the groom yet. Would you two excuse me?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, just squeezed between them and hurried off.

  Nina swallowed before straightening her shoulders. “Would you…would you like to dance?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her no. He didn’t think he could touch her, hold her and have her pressed against him without wanting more. Much more.

  But Nina looked up at him with those big gray eyes, her question hanging in the air between them. Then she held out her hand.

  And he realized how brave she’d been to approach him in front of her family and friends.

  He couldn’t say no.

  He took her hand.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TRUST YOURSELF. Trust yourself.

  And whatever you do, don’t throw up.

  Nina’s stomach roiled as she led Dillon onto the small dance floor. His hand was warm and steady in hers, his skin rough. She felt the curious gazes of people but kept her eyes straight ahead.

  She’d wanted to approach him all evening but hadn’t the nerve until Blaire’s bathroom pep talk. To be honest, it wasn’t Blaire’s advice so much that helped Nina to ask Dillon to dance as much as it was Nina’s own realization that, even though she was free of Trey, she was still afraid of making waves. Disappointing people. Getting hurt again.

  And she was oh so tired of living in fear.

  She wove her way between couples on the dance floor, not stopping until she reached the far corner. Only then did she face him. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hands on her waist and began swaying to the music.

  Disappointed he didn’t crush her against him—seemed her fantasies were getting the better of her—she laid her hands on his shoulders. His muscles tensed under her fingers. Norah Jones’s breathy voice surrounded them, wove a sensual spell.

  “I hadn’t realized you were going to walk Kelsey down the aisle,” she said, thankful her heels added a few inches so she could speak into his ear.

  “It wasn’t planned.”

  She tilted her head back. “She didn’t ask you to give her away?”

  “She asked. I said no.”

  “What changed your mind then?”

  For a moment, she didn’t think he’d answer her. But then he shrugged. “She needed me.”

  Nina almost stumbled. How could she fight her growing feelings for someone who not only watched her kids, helped her bake until three in the morning, but also stepped up to do the right thing for his sister simply because she needed him?

  Nina took a small step closer to Dillon, to his strength and his heat, but he shifted.

  She frowned. Was it her imagination, or had Dillon just backed away from her?

  She looked up into his face and froze. In his eyes she saw heat, desire and…nerves.

  What on earth could Dillon be nervous about?

  Wait a minute. What if…what if he was nervous about…her?

  The idea of dangerous, in-control Dillon Ward being nervous about holding her was ludicrous. And, well, rather intoxicating.

  She smiled and his gaze fell to her mouth. A muscle jumped in his jaw before he jerked his eyes up to stare somewhere over her left shoulder.

  Okay, so maybe she was right. But to be positive, she had to test her theory.

  Before she could change her mind, she clasped her hands together behind his neck. Her breasts brushed his chest and she felt, more than heard, his sharp intake of breath. She lifted her face, her forehead bumping his chin lightly. His expression was heated. Intense.

  He pressed his hands to her lower back, his fingers splayed just over the curve of her butt. Heat licked its way into her stomach.

  “You’re killing me,” he growled into her ear.

  A shiver raced up her spine at his admission. At the desire roughening his voice.

  The music ended, but before Dillon could walk away, she forced herself to meet his eyes.

  “Will you take me home?”

  JUST BECAUSE a woman asked a man to take her home, didn’t mean she wanted him in her bed.

  A fact that Dillon repeatedly reminded himself as he stood shivering in the snow outside the lodge’s front door. He flipped the collar of his suit coat up and blew on his frozen hands. By unspoken agreement, they seemed to have decided they shouldn’t be seen leaving together. So she’d gone off, presumably to gather her things, while Dillon went outside, brushed snow off his truck and started the engine to warm it.

  But now, a good ten minutes later, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d imagined her request.

  And then the door opened and Nina, wrapped in a long, black coat, gingerly stepped out onto the snow-covered parking lot. They walked to his truck side by side. He should’ve taken her elbow, helped her manage in her impractical—but beyond sexy—silver heels, but he didn’t want to take the chance of anyone seeing that and thinking the worst.

  He opened the door for her and she climbed into his truck with surprising ease. In the process, flashing him a generous amount of leg.

  As he drove to her house, the cab of his truck seemed to shrink. Grow warmer. Hot air blew out of the vents, swirling her scent around him. He stole a glance at her and wondered what she was thinking.

  Had she changed her mind? Or perhaps she hadn’t meant her question to sound so…propositional? Either way, he felt like a damn teenager on his first date.

  Nina lived on the other side of town in a small development of similar-looking ranch-style houses, most of which were dark when he pulled into her driveway. He shut off the engine but kept the keys in the ignition. And his hands safely on the steering wheel.

  They both stared at the house.

  “The kids are spending the night with your parents, right?” he asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “They told me last night.”

  “Oh, right. Yes, they’re…they’ll be gone all night. Do you…” She stopped. Took an audible breath. “Do you want to come in? For coffee?”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “No.”

  He sensed her studying him in the dim cab. “Oh,” she said. That soft sound, filled with disappointment almost undid him.

  She fumbled with the door handle but before she could open the door he said, “I don’t want any coffee.”

  She turned toward him, her hands clenched in her lap. “You…you don’t?”

  The porch cast her face in shadows but he clearly saw how nervous she was. How uncertain.

  He knew he should let her go.

  “No,” he admitted. “What I want is to touch you.”

  “I want that, too,” she whispered.

  “Do you? Because before you invite me in, I need you to be sure.”

  “I’ve only been with one man,” she blurted, color washing her cheeks.

  Her words hit him like a solid one-two jab
. “That doesn’t make me want you any less.”

  Truth be told, it made him want her more.

  He had to let her know what she was getting herself into. What they were both getting into. “I want to touch you. Taste you. Every inch of you. I’m not some smooth college-educated guy who can sweep you off your feet. I’m not the kind of guy you can bring home to your parents, and I can’t be paraded around town as a good catch. I’ve seen things…done things that you can’t even imagine.” He lowered his voice. “No matter who I am, what I lived through will always be a part of me.”

  “I don’t want…I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are,” she said. She touched the side of his face, her hand warm and soft against his skin. “Honest. Strong. Honorable.”

  If he was so honorable, why didn’t he get the hell out of there? If he was strong, why was his heart racing?

  Why did she make him feel so weak?

  He took her hand from his face and tugged her toward him. “You tempt me, Nina, more than any woman ever has.”

  She laced her fingers through his and squeezed. “Come inside with me. Please.”

  He dropped her hand, took the keys from the ignition and walked around the front of the truck to open her door. He wasn’t noble enough to say no a second time.

  At the front door, she fumbled with her keys. Her unsteadiness settled his own nerves.

  He followed her inside and shut the door behind them. Nina flipped on the lamp on a narrow table. The house had an open floor plan with the kitchen—to his left—separated from the large living room by a breakfast bar. The rooms were done up in blue and gray with white accents.

  While the house was no match for the house Dillon had imagined she’d shared with her wealthy ex, it was warm and inviting. In a settled, comforting sort of way.

  Nina set her purse down and twisted her fingers together. She looked so nervous, he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted.

  “Are you sure I can’t get you something? Soda? Or I might have a beer…” She headed toward the kitchen but he caught her by the wrist and pulled her back.

  “I don’t want anything to drink.” He wrapped one of her soft curls around his finger. “The only thing I want,” he continued, realizing what he was about to say was a truth so real, it scared the hell out of him, “is you.”