See You Again

by Kait Nolan

  Nerves had her linking her hands even before he turned. “You have a picture of the Hoka.”

  “Yes.” The old indie theater had been their place. Where they’d hung out. Where they were meant to have met that last night. “I didn’t have any pictures of you. Couldn’t have kept them if I did. But I had that.”

  “Sandy.”

  Trey set the picture aside and crossed to her, sliding his arms around her. It was easy to do the same, to flow into him and lift her mouth to his.

  The perfunctory knock on the door had her leaping back as if she’d been scalded—or trying. Trey’s grip on her was too firm, so she was still partly in his arms when the older woman with silver hair came into the room.

  “Sandy, sorry to bother you, but Avery isn’t—Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt a…meeting.”

  Not sorry enough to step into the hall until it was finished, Sandy noted. She moved away from Trey, deliberately not looking at him.

  “It’s fine, Mom. What are you doing here?”

  “I brought you some cheese straws.” Helen came all the way into the room, a cookie tin extended.

  Sandy took it automatically, frowning as she opened to check the contents. “Cheese straws?” Why was she bringing by cheese straws at nine-thirty on a Thursday morning?

  “Well, I’m tinkering with the recipe. Trying out a pimento cheese variety. I thought you’d like to try them out. Go ahead. Have a bite.”

  “May I?” Trey asked.

  Sandy held out the tin, knowing her cheeks were on fire again. It was ridiculous to feel as if she’d been caught at something. She and Trey were both grown adults, both single. But knowing that did nothing to stem the trepidation.

  He popped a cheese straw in his mouth and groaned in appreciation. The sound just made Sandy blush harder. He’d made the same sound when she’d kissed him last night.

  “I don’t know what the originals taste like, but these are top notch. I can’t remember the last time I had cheese straws.” He plucked one more up before Sandy could close the container.

  “And who might you be, young man?”

  Trey held out his hand. “Gerald Peyton. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Helen Campbell.” She shook once, keeping hold of his hand and giving him a shrewd onceover. “You’ve been doing a great deal in our town.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Helen divided a look between them. “You had dinner with my daughter. And breakfast.”

  Trey lost some of his cool as shock rippled over his features.

  Welcome to small towns.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

  “Just what are your intentions?”

  “Mom!” Mortified, Sandy stepped between them.

  “What? It’s a reasonable question.”

  “It is not. I’m forty-nine years old.”

  Entirely unrepentant, Helen reached up to tap her cheek. “And still my baby.”

  That was it. Sandy was just going to die of embarrassment on the spot. The end.

  “To answer your question, I intend to enjoy the pleasure of her company, for however long she’s willing to bestow it.”

  “Hmm. A pretty talker and polite. Norah speaks very highly of you, so that’s in your favor. Perhaps you’ll do.”

  “Mother, that’s enough.”

  Helen just beamed at the warning tone. “I’ll go on and get out of your way.” She wiggled her fingers. “Tootles.” Then she was gone.

  Sandy leaned back against her desk because her legs weren’t entirely steady. “God. I’m sorry.”

  “Our fault for not locking the door. How did she even know?”

  “Small town, remember. I picked up the pork chops at McSweeney’s on my way home last night. Your car was then seen in my driveway.”

  The CIA had nothing on the gossip network in Wishful.

  Obviously amused, he leaned beside her on the desk. “I run a multi-national company that frequently deals with high-level government officials. I can handle meeting your mother.”

  “It’s not just my mother I’m worried about. As soon as the news circulates, I fully expect you to end up hearing from practically every member of my family. We are adults, for God’s sake.” She scooped a hand through her hair.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m a big boy. I’ll survive. Whatever they dish out, you’re absolutely worth it.”

  “Yeah, well, hold on to that thought.”

  He studied her. “You’re legitimately worried about this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why? What’s this really about?”

  Sandy held up her hands, let them fall. “It’s just…I haven’t done this since my divorce.”

  “Done what?”

  “Dated. Not really.”

  After the disaster of her marriage, her family had felt plenty free to opine about the men she had deigned to go out with. She clearly couldn’t be trusted to make a sensible decision on that front, so they felt the need to investigate the candidates and vet them. It hardly made for an environment conducive to forming real relationships. So, she just hadn’t bothered. And maybe, on some level, she’d believed them.

  Trey stared at her. “You haven’t dated in eighteen years?”

  God, it sounded even worse when he said it. “My focus was on Cam. Then going back to grad school. And then…there just wasn’t anyone who interested me for longer than a dinner or two.” And during the years of her cancer, men had been the last thing on her mind.

  He didn’t try to minimize it. Instead he curled his hands around the desk, his fingers just brushing hers. “I haven’t dated much either.”

  Sandy shot him a look. He was a vital, attractive man. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s not that there wasn’t opportunity. It’s just…hard to date in my position.”

  “Your position?”

  “Well, to be frank, it’s often hard to tell whether a woman is interested in me or in my money.”

  “Oh.” She paused, thinking back to college. “Is that why you never mentioned what you came from when we were at Ole Miss?”

  He shrugged. “I was tired of not being judged for who I actually am.”

  “Understandable.” Sandy wished she didn’t know about the money now. She wanted to think it didn’t make her see him differently, but it did. He didn’t flaunt it, didn’t announce it, but the fact of his wealth was there, hanging out at the periphery of her mind, reminding her that they came from two different worlds.

  It had been easier in college to imagine that they could have a future. To dream up the life they could create together. Now…

  Sandy shook off the thought. Now they were enjoying each other’s company, getting to know each other all over again. Thoughts of futures and a life were getting light years ahead of things. Right now, she was just going to enjoy the ride.

  Chapter 5

  Get me to the church on time.

  Trey’s eye began to twitch as he watched the clock creep closer and closer to when he needed to leave, while his business associate on video conference continued to drone on about some staffing problems with their new London project. Edward was so damned long-winded. Trey wasn’t even sure he’d stopped for breath for the past ten minutes. Maybe he had a future in filibusting. When it became apparent there wasn’t a chance he’d get out the door on time, he sent a text to Sandy.

  Gonna be late. Tied up in a meeting. Meet you there?

  Her answer came back moments later. Got it covered.

  What did that mean? Did she not want him to come? He stared at the three little dots that said she was typing more.

  Dinner after?

  He grinned. At least until he remembered the proposal he had to get through tonight. He’d let a few things slide the last couple of days, but he really needed to get back on track.

  Trey: I want to say yes, but I’ve got some work tonight.

  Sandy: So do I. Want to pick up a
pizza and bring your homework over?

  The grin came back full-force. This felt like college all over again. Except now there was the possibility of necking on the couch when they were through.

  “Gerald?”

  Trey snapped his attention back to the video conference. “Sorry. What?”

  “I asked what you thought of the projections.”

  He hadn’t even looked at the projections. “I’m still digesting them.”

  “It’s pretty clear-cut.” Edward frowned. “Is everything all right? You seem…not yourself.”

  “I’m just dealing with some personal things.” Like having a personal life. “Listen, I’m sorry. Can we wrap this up? I have another appointment I’m going to be late for.”

  Mouth pinched with disapproval, Edward said, “We have to move on this soon or we could run into problems with the permits. That could mean serious delays, and delays cost.”

  Damn, Trey missed having Brody to deal with this shit. Not that his replacement wasn’t qualified, but he didn’t have Brody’s years of experience. “I swear I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.”

  It took another fifteen minutes to get off the call, and Trey had to get borderline rude to manage it, but eventually he signed off and headed for the church.

  Since yesterday, someone had gotten busy with chainsaws and removed the tree from the building. The hole was covered with a series of tarps that flapped in the evening breeze. Trey parked beside Brody’s truck and headed inside. Following the murmur of voices, he stepped around the open door and into the damaged sanctuary. Someone had strung caution tape to block off the entire left side of the church. Besides the tree itself, it didn’t appear the debris had been moved. And there was an astounding lot of debris—from the overturned pews all the way up to the splintered beams that arched along the vaulted ceiling. Brody had his work cut out for him.

  Sandy stood with Brody at the altar, deep in conversation. The overhead light cast a halo on her blonde hair, which she’d bundled into some kind of messy knot since this morning. She’d always been beautiful, but as Trey approached, it struck him that she’d settled into herself and found a confidence that was truly stunning.

  Sandy’s gaze swung toward him as he approached. “I do.”

  The longing hit him square in the chest. Me too. Trey’s stride hitched, just a little at the thought. Oh yeah, he had it bad.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Brody’s got concerns.”

  The younger man spoke up. “I’m not sure I can round up enough qualified people or get the materials in time to pull this off. My crew is largely tied up on other jobs at the moment.”

  “How many do you need?” Trey asked.

  Brody named a figure.

  “Done. Anybody in particular you want?”

  One dark brow winged up. “Morales and Jacobsen would be excellent crew leaders and allow us to break the whole thing up into three shifts for round the clock project management.”

  “I’ll get them here.”

  “But what about whatever projects they’re on? I don’t want to cause you delays.”

  “It’s no problem. And whatever supplies you’ll need, we’ll get—even if we have to fly something in. Just let Louis know.”

  “I’m not sure something like that is in the church’s budget,” Sandy interjected. Her tone said it definitely wasn’t.

  “I’ve got it covered,” Trey promised. Something like this was a drop in the bucket.

  She frowned. “But it’s not your financial responsibility.”

  “It’s a tax deduction and a goodwill gesture toward the community. That’s good business,” he assured her.

  “You might as well let him,” Brody told her, his lips curving into a smile. “Once he gets the bit between his teeth, there’s no swaying him.”

  “We’re settled, then,” Trey declared.

  “What’s settled?” a voice called from the back of the sanctuary. Norah strode up the aisle, hand linked with Cam’s.

  “The plan for repairing the church.”

  Sandy stepped forward to hug them both. “Gerald and Brody are making arrangements for all the necessary supplies and manpower to see that it’s done in time for your wedding.”

  “You know it’s in just over a week, right?” Cam asked.

  “It’s a tight timeline, but not the worst I’ve ever faced,” Brody said.

  “I’ll see that he’s got whatever he needs to make it happen,” Trey added.

  Norah’s eyes went suspiciously glassy. “You’d do that for us?”

  Trey twitched his shoulders, praying she didn’t cry again. “I know it was partly my fault you had trouble setting a date in the first place, because I kept you busy with projects. This seems like the least I can do.”

  He staggered a bit as Norah threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  The momentary discomfort bled into something warm and fuzzy that had him missing Tess. Trey hugged Norah back, not quite resisting the urge to run a hand down her hair, as he would with his own daughter. “You’re most welcome.”

  Cam offered his hand for a hearty shake. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Really. No thanks necessary. I just hope my own daughter someday winds up with a guy I can like and respect as much as you.”

  As they turned to offer their thanks to Brody, Trey stepped to the side and called Louis to get the ball rolling. By the time he finished the call, Sandy was pacing back and forth in front of the groom’s side of the church, in animated discussion with someone herself, and the kids had migrated to the vestibule. One hand rubbed absently at her shoulder as she spoke. Trey crossed to her and took over, kneading at the knot there. After one, quick jolt, she relaxed into his touch.

  She worked so hard. He understood and appreciated that kind of drive, but he wondered when the last time was she’d had a break. When had he? The kernel of a plan began to form in the back of his mind—a means of both impressing her and relaxing them both. But if he was going to pull it off, he had a lot of details to attend to.

  “Sorry about that. Still dealing with the aftermath of the storm in a few other areas.”

  “No problem.” He continued to massage her shoulders, loving the faint little whimper she made as she leaned into him.

  “I should call in the pizza,” she murmured. “Still sausage and mushroom?”

  He wasn’t the only one who remembered. “Yep.” Before she could lift the phone again, he said, “Listen, can you clear your schedule tomorrow night? I want to take you out.”

  “Four meals in even fewer days? People will talk.” But her dimple flashed, so he didn’t think she minded too much.

  “Not here, for what it’s worth,” he added.

  She looked over her shoulder, equal parts wariness and intrigue in her eyes. “Then where?”

  He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

  ~*~

  “‘It’s a surprise.’ Why do men think that’s a good thing?” Sandy demanded. “I don’t know where we’re going. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”

  “It is a mystery for the ages,” Adele agreed. But she was grinning.

  Sandy scowled at her. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just funny. You haven’t been this angsty over a date since our sophomore year of high school.”

  “I’m so glad I can be a source of amusement.” She yanked a pair of slacks and some jeans from the closet, tossing both on the bed beside a skirt and one of her dresses. He could have at least had the courtesy to tell her if it was casual or dressy.

  “You could always take a really big purse and a change of clothes.”

  “Because that sends the right message.”

  “What?” Adele asked. “You want to sleep with him.”

  “Not tonight!”

  Her friend just arched a brow. “I didn’t realize there was a requisite time stamp. Does attraction have a maturation date? Like
wine or champagne?”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What’s bothering you here? The idea that he might expect you to sleep with him—in which case, he’s not the guy you’ve been describing—or how easy it would be to fall into bed with him?”

  Sandy knotted her hands in the sweater she held. “It just feels so fast. All of this feels so fast.” She didn’t want anyone accusing her of being reckless again.

  “Thirty years is fast?” Adele’s smirk made irritation prickle.

  “We aren’t in college anymore.”

  “No, but you’re still fundamentally the same people. If you’d been free back then, would you have slept with him?”

  That wasn’t even a question. She wished it was. “Yes.”

  “Okay then. It seems like the last three decades were a really long intermission to something that was inevitable. You’re a grown woman, who’s free to make her own decisions.”

  “I’m not arguing that. But say I go to bed with him. Then what? He owns a multi-billion-dollar company. His life isn’t here in any permanent way. And mine can’t be anywhere else.” It was the thing that had been circling around her brain all day. How could they have anything permanent with lives so different? And was it worth having him only for a little while? If she let herself get that deep, could she survive losing him again?

  “I seem to recall that Norah had the exact same struggle with Cam. And whose wedding are you currently saving? She wanted it bad enough to make a way.”

  That was unarguably true. Her future daughter-in-law had moved heaven and earth to find a way to be with Cam. But… “She’s also not yet thirty and was at a transition point in her life.”

  “Honey, as you’ve just pointed out, Trey’s a billionaire. He can do whatever he damn well pleases. Now, stop fast-forwarding to an end before you’ve even begun.” Adele gave Sandy a quick, hard hug. “Go to bed with him tonight or don’t. That’s up to you. But wear those slacks and the green cashmere sweater and pack the jersey dress in your purse, just in case you need to step it up a bit. And wear your good underwear. Whether he sees it or not, it’ll make you feel better.”

  In the end, she wore a dress. At the heart, she was a Southern woman. Everybody knew it was better to be overdressed than underdressed. Even if they ended up at a hole-in-the-wall, like The Beacon, she’d feel more confident looking her best. And hell, he’d said somewhere other than Wishful. Maybe he was taking her to Oxford to some of their old haunts.