Seeking Mr. Perfect (The Jane Austen Pact)

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Seeking Mr. Perfect (The Jane Austen Pact) Page 3

by Jennifer Youngblood


  Whenever Dalton was nearby, she felt like he stole all reason from her—stole her very air so that all she could think about was him. She’d told herself that she was a different person now, that her posh city life had immunized her against Dalton Chandler. But now she knew that was a lie. She tried to summon a picture of Parker with his compassionate, brown eyes and sophisticated smile, but it got swept away like a toy boat in a raging river of silvery, blue gray—the color of Dalton’s smoldering eyes. Mysterious and brooding, yet so alive … like the tumultuous ocean sky on the brink of a storm.

  Crap! He was striding towards her.

  Dalton was ticked that some moron plowed into the back of his truck. He’d glanced in his rearview mirror right before it happened and saw the woman on the phone, could tell she was distracted. Then he realized she was going to hit him. In a flash, the scenario played through his mind, but there was nothing he could do. Had he moved forward, he would’ve hit the car in front of him and the accident would be his fault.

  Up to this point, it had been a typical day in the world of construction—the subcontractors begging for more time to complete projects and home owners jumping up and down because the job wasn’t done yesterday. Dalton was headed to a job site and realized he’d forgotten some paperwork, so he ran back to his office to grab it. He had a jam-packed schedule today and certainly no time for this. He was supposed to meet the cabinet installers at a new house he was building in less than thirty minutes. Afterward he needed to dart out and meet the building inspector to go over the electrical work for another job. Well, he’d be late now, everything pushed back.

  He hurried back to the car, ready to give the woman a piece of his mind. “Lady, I hope you realize what a pain in the butt this is,” he began, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

  Then she stuck her head out the window, causing him to freeze in his tracks. A single word escaped his throat. “Sierra?”

  A rubbery smile wobbled over her lips as she attempted a wave. “Hey.”

  He shook his head, at a loss for words as she stepped out of the car. She looked good—even better than he remembered. His eyes flickered over her, starting at the bottom and moving up—heeled sandals with her toenails painted bright red, designer jeans that showed just how long her shapely legs were, impossibly tiny waist, and just the right amount at the top. Yep, she still had it—as sleek as a shiny new Corvette, but timeless like his collectible ‘69 Camaro.

  Sierra’s hair was longer now with loose waves, flowing like burnished copper over her slim shoulders. He saw the faint dusting of cinnamon freckles over her ivory skin, caught the surprise in her bright blue eyes as she stared back at him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a gold hoop earring. Memories flowed like a waterfall—how he’d been so gone over Sierra he could hardly form a clear thought, how she’d broken his heart and cast him aside like cheap particle board, not looking back. There were plenty of things he should’ve told Sierra McCain at this moment. But all that came out of his mouth was, “It’s you.”

  Her faced flamed. “I can’t believe I ran into your truck.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair, still trying to comprehend what was happening. She was here, standing right in front of him like a fairy, or a demon from another world sent to torment him. He glanced at the steady stream of cars slow-poking around them, trying to veer as far from the accident as possible.

  Luckily, habit took over. A slow smile stole over his lips, the apathetic one he wore like a pair of sunglasses to hide the pain. “How ya doin,’ Sie,” he drawled.

  “Okay.” Her expression remained guarded.

  His voice took on a good ol’ boy drawl. “If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just stopped by.” He cut his eyes at his truck. “Instead of going to all this trouble.”

  The whites of her eyes popped, and he could tell she was somewhat amused as a half-smile touched her lips. “Ha! You wish.”

  The moment got slow as their eyes connected, sending a 220-amp electrical charge running through him. Crazy, that he would still be so affected by this woman. Surely, she felt it too. Yes, she did, he could see it in her eyes. And he also knew that it bothered her. He watched—half in fascination, half in frustration—as a veil came down over her eyes. She was retreating into herself. The more things change, the more they stay the same. He swallowed his disappointment, telling himself that it didn’t matter. He was so over this woman.

  Her brows knit together. “Why did you stop like that in the middle of the road?”

  For a second he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly, then saw the accusation in her eyes. An incredulous laugh broke from his throat. “Seriously? You rammed me in the back end and have the nerve to ask that?”

  Just like that, it was on and they were back to where they’d left off—at each other’s throats.

  “It’s your own stupid fault! You stopped smack dab in the middle of the road.” She lifted her chin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you did it on purpose because you knew it was me.”

  She was a piece of work, all high and mighty, snubbing her nose at the world.

  His eyes narrowed. “What’re you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in New York with your rich boyfriend?” He didn’t try to hide the disgust in his voice.

  She rocked back, her face draining. “H-how do you know about Parker?”

  His gut twisted, wringing him out hard and dry. He’d do well to remember who he was dealing with here. “It doesn’t matter what I know,” he muttered. All he wanted to do was get this over with so he could get back to work.

  She lifted her chin. “I came here to check on Bennie. She hurt her knee and I need to help her with a few other issues.”

  Alarm flashed over Dalton. “I just saw her a couple of days ago! Is she okay?” Even though he and Sierra weren’t on good terms, he had a soft spot for Bennie. They’d grown close during the past six months that he lived next door. He wondered why Bennie hadn’t come to him for help.

  “I don’t know. I just got into town and was headed to check on her.”

  Suddenly, Dalton realized the two of them were causing a spectacle in the middle of town. Shop owners had come out of their buildings, talking amongst themselves, their eyes lit with interest. In Sugar Pines, news traveled faster than a pent-up derby horse leaving the gate on race day. It wouldn’t take long for word to get out that he and Sierra were spotted talking after their fender bender.

  Phyllis Watson, his office assistant, came running out of Dalton’s shop, her hands flailing. “I heard the crash, but was on a call with a prospective client and just now got off.” She stopped in her tracks, eyes lassoing. “Sierra McCain?” In two steps she was at Sierra’s side throwing her arms around her, squeezing her tight.

  Dalton couldn’t help but chuckle at how Sierra went stiff like she was being mauled by a bear.

  Finally, Phyllis let Sierra go. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” she cooed. She put a finger to her chin, looking thoughtful. “Let’s see, I believe it was right after high school graduation.” She looked back and forth between Dalton and Sierra. The doe-eyed expression on her face was a stark contrast to the heavy innuendo in her voice. “The two of you were tight back then—couldn’t wedge a sheet of paper between you.”

  Dalton cringed, then saw Sierra’s face turn ghostly white like she wished she could crawl under the pavement. Blast Phyllis and her big mouth! While she was a good assistant and friend, she lived for gossip, devoured every scrap she could gather within fifty miles of Sugar Pines’ city limits.

  Phyllis gave Sierra a speculative look. “What’re you doing back in this neck of the woods?”

  “I came to check on Bennie. She fell and hurt her knee.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard that.” Her eyes danced as she lowered her voice and leaned in. “So, I hear you’ve got some high falutin’ boyfriend in New York. Is he as good-looking as everybody keeps saying?”

  Sierra shot Dalton
a triumphant look. “Better. Parker owns one of the most successful advertising firms in Manhattan.”

  “That’s so nice. You’re sure lucky you got out of this po-dunk town and made something of yourself,” she twanged.

  The hair on Dalton’s neck stood. “Don’t you have some work to do, Phyllis?”

  She laughed lightly, then shot him a sour look. “Yeah, yeah, boss. I’ll get back to it in a minute. I’m on my break right now,” she retorted, then leaned in and whispered to Sierra. “He’s such a slave driver.”

  Dalton rolled his eyes. “I heard that. I’m standing right here.”

  Phyllis winked. “That was the point, sugar.” She frowned, pointing to the accident. “Did the two of you … hit?”

  Dalton sighed heavily, feeling like he was pointing out the obvious. “Yes, Phyllis, Sierra plowed into the back of my truck.”

  Phyllis cackled like he’d said something hilarious. Then her eyes rounded. Her lips turned down, like she’d just thought of something. “Oh, wow,” she mused. “That’s ironic. Considering …”

  Sierra, flinched, her cheeks turning as red as her hair as she eyed Phyllis. “Considering what?”

  “Um, your mother’s accident,” Phyllis stammered. She shook her head, her face draining. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  Dalton wanted to shove a sock in Phyllis’s insensitive mouth. “Then, why did you?” As ticked as he was at Sierra, he didn’t want to see her humiliated.

  Phyllis touched her hair. “Err … it just came out. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” She forced a contrite smile.

  Sierra straightened to her full height and glared at Dalton. “I’m all grown up now and don’t need you to defend me. I can take care of myself.”

  He let out a hard laugh. “Seriously? After all we’ve been through together, that’s all you have to say to me?”

  Uncertainty settled into her eyes, and for a split second Dalton thought he might be getting through to her, but then her jaw hardened.

  “If you hadn’t stopped in the middle of the road, the accident never would’ve happened,” Sierra flung back, eyes flashing.

  He smirked. “You keep telling yourself that, darling. You had your cell phone shoved so far up your ear, a backhoe wouldn’t have been able to dig it out.”

  “First of all, I’m not your darling.”

  Dalton leaned into her personal space. “You were distracted, and distracted drivers are dangerous.”

  “Whatever.” Sierra shot him a blistering look. “You’re such a moron.”

  Phyllis let out a deviant chuckle. “Sparks are flying, just like they always have between you two.” She clucked her tongue. “Why don’t you go ahead and kiss each other and get it over with?”

  “What?” Sierra’s jaw dropped. “I take offense to that.”

  “Take whatever you want.” Phyllis shook her head. “But the truth’s the truth.” She looked at Dalton. “Anyway, I just came out to tell you that I called Eddie, and he’s on his way over. He said it would take him a little while to get here because he was up a ladder, trying to get Mrs. Bigsby’s cat out of a tree.”

  “Eddie?” Sierra asked dubiously. “Are you talking about jug-head Eddie who could chug a beer in one gulp?”

  “No one’s called him that in years,” Phyllis said, the corners of her jaw twitching.

  Sierra shrugged. “I meant no offense. That’s just how I remember him.”

  “Eddie’s a deputy,” she said proudly, holding up her left hand to display a ring.

  Sierra’s eyes grew large. “Eddie Whitehead’s a police officer?”

  “Yep,” Phyllis said. “He’s thinking about running for sheriff next year when Luke Rutherford retires.”

  Sierra chuckled. “The Eddie I knew was always on the other side of the law.”

  “That was a lifetime ago,” Phyllis snipped, giving her a cool look. “Lots of things have changed since you’ve been gone.” She straightened her blouse. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do. Good to see you again,” she said curtly, sauntering back to the shop.

  Sierra sighed heavily. “I just shoved my foot in my mouth.” Her eyes sparked. “But Phyllis deserved it for that crack about my mother.” She let out a long sigh. “Still, the minute I get to town, I have a wreck and start insulting people.” Great. “I’m batting a thousand here.”

  He gave her a sideways look. “You do have a knack for stirring up trouble.”

  “Especially when you’re around.”

  For a split second, he thought she was attacking him again, then caught the wistful expression in her eyes that was gone before her next blink. A pang shot through him as myriad memories flooded his mind—the two of them skipping school and hopping in his Camaro, driving full speed with the windows down and music blasting to Huntington Island State Park. They’d climbed to the top of the lighthouse and looked out over the sandy beach that opened to the endless expanse of ocean. Afterwards, they went down to the beach and made a bonfire, snuggling close.

  It was there, beside that cozy fire that Dalton first said out loud that he was in love with Sierra. She admitted feeling the same way. Dalton believed their love was strong enough to withstand anything that came at them. How wrong he’d been. A few short months later, it all came crashing down like a sand castle swept out by the tide. Sierra left for New York two months after he joined the Marines. From that point on, she cut off all contact. No explanation. Nothing.

  Several years passed with him vowing to forget her. When he finally mustered the nerve to look her up, he learned she was practically engaged to some hotshot advertising executive in Manhattan.

  She was so close. All he had to do was reach out and touch her face, run his hand along the curve of her jaw. Thread his fingers through those tresses of red. He jerked slightly reining in his renegade thoughts. The smart thing was to let the past remain where it belonged.

  “Don’t worry about Phyllis,” he began. “She’s sensitive when it comes to Eddie, works hard to keep him on the straight and narrow. Wants her fiancé to come across as a pillar of the community.” He couldn’t stop a grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. “By the way, Eddie can still chug a beer in a single gulp.”

  Sierra rewarded him with an appreciative smile that shot straight into the center of his heart. “Good to know some things never change.”

  His eyes held hers. “Yeah, I guess,” he said softly. There was still something between them, as alive as it ever was, whether or not Sierra admitted it.

  She blinked a couple of times and stepped back, breaking the spell.

  A stilted silence settled between them. He jutted his thumb. “I’ve gotta grab some paperwork from my office. Would you like to come in and wait for Eddie in the reception area?”

  Her voice grew polite, like they were strangers. “Thanks, but I think I’ll wait out here. I need to make a phone call.”

  To her boyfriend, no doubt. The feeling of loss that swept over Dalton was tangible enough to taste. He forced a smile, keeping his voice light. “Alrighty, then. I’ll come back out when Eddie gets here.”

  She nodded.

  He was a couple of feet away from her when she spoke.

  “Dalton?”

  He turned. “Yeah?”

  “Good to see you.”

  The comment jolted him, confused him a little. “Good to see you too.” He flashed his trademark apathetic smile, then winked. “Welcome home, Sie.”

  Chapter 4

  Unfortunately, Sierra’s rental car wasn’t drivable, so she had to get a replacement from Pete’s Auto Sales, the only company in Sugar Pines that rented vehicles. And as it turned out, all Pete had available was an old mini-van that smelled like stale French fries. Driving this decrepit vehicle around Sugar Pines was a little too reminiscent of how Sierra grew up. Maybe fate was punishing her for trying to rise above her upbringing. She let out a humorless laugh. She was certainly being punished for something.

  Of all
the people to rear end, why did it have to be Dalton? The irony was, if she hadn’t been so shocked at seeing Dalton’s last name on the sign above his office, she wouldn’t have hit him. Seeing Dalton again had thrown Sierra into a tailspin. She didn’t want her old feelings unearthed. Didn’t want to question whether she’d made the right decision, fleeing to New York. Her mind kept replaying the fierce look in Dalton’s silver-gray eyes and his easy smile. She didn’t want to dwell on the unexpected flame of desire in her stomach when he’d approached her car. Or how her heart did a little flip when their eyes connected.

  Crap! Crap! Crap! She couldn’t do this. It was imperative that she stay focused on the goal. She’d always had a weakness for Dalton. He was her kryptonite. Heck, half the female population of Sugar Pines probably felt the same way. Dalton was the epitome of attractive with his rugged looks and fearless take on life. She didn’t remember him being as ripped in the old days as he was now. Heat flamed up her neck just thinking about the way his t-shirt formed to his defined torso and flat abs. Not to mention his cut biceps.

  Sierra turned on the air conditioner, but it only blew warm, stale air. Great! She rolled down the driver’s side window. Holding onto the steering wheel with one hand, she used her other to fan her face. It was ridiculous how worked up she was getting over Dalton. She felt freaked out and guilty that she’d had such a strong reaction to Dalton, especially when she was so totally and completely in love with Parker.

  She tried to picture the compassionate look in Parker’s deep-brown eyes. How sophisticated he was—knowing the best items to order on any given menu at the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan. Parker was a whiz in the advertising world, known for his uncanny ability to recognize trends. He had the remarkable combination of being both creative and sensible when it came to business.

 

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