He shrugged. “I’m sure there are lots of things about me that you don’t know.”
“Such as?” She shouldn’t have asked that, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Rather than answering, he just looked at her with penetrating eyes that seemed to see into her soul. Tell me about the drinking, she wanted to scream. The Dalton sitting before her was nothing like the man she assumed he’d become. Tell me that leaving you wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life. The space between them got inestimably small as they sat staring at each other.
Finally, Bennie cleared her throat. “I’m glad the two of you are getting along so well because it’ll take a lot of collaboration to get the set done on time.”
Panic trickled over Sierra and it must’ve shown on her face because Dalton waved a hand and said casually, “Don’t worry, I can take care of the bulk of it by myself.” He cocked an eyebrow, giving Sierra a challenging look. “I wouldn’t wanna put you out or cause your boyfriend undue concern about us spending time together.”
For some reason she couldn’t explain, the comment made the hair on her neck rise as she straightened in her seat. “Parker”—she made a point of enunciating his name—“trusts me implicitly, as I do him. He has zero cause to be concerned about me and you working together.”
Dalton smiled, a mocking laughter in his eyes. “If you say so.”
So much for easing the tension. It was thick enough to cut.
Bennie smiled through the coldness. “Sierra, hon, would you get the pecan pie out of the icebox? I thought we’d have that with some ice cream.”
“In a minute,” she grumbled, turning back to Dalton. “I’ll work with you any day or any time, and it doesn’t cause me one iota’s worth of stress. Whatever happened between us is ancient history. You got that?”
A hard smile slid over his lips, turning his eyes to balls of ice. “Yep, loud and clear.”
Chapter 7
No doubt, Sierra McCain was the most frustrating woman Dalton had ever met. He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to call him out like that at dinner. “Parker trusts me implicitly,” he mimicked. He barked out a humorless laugh as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the nearby laundry basket. “Well, Parker, if you really do trust your heart to Sierra McCain then you’re a fool. Because she’ll stomp it to bits and then flush it down the toilet without a second thought.”
Even though he’d never met him, he hated Parker Henley. Hated that he was sophisticated and refined—the epitome of the Jane Austen hero Sierra had always wanted. The summer she went away to that stupid girls’ camp was the longest of Dalton’s life. He couldn’t wait until the day she finally returned home. But then all she did was babble on about her new friends and the pact they’d made to find their own, true-life version of Mr. Darcy. Dalton didn’t have a clue what Sierra was even talking about until he went home and looked it up on the Internet. He’d laughed out loud as he watched a clip of Pride and Prejudice. The men wore sissified clothes, and they stood so straight they looked like they had boards nailed to their backs. Their manner of speech was odd and stilted.
For months afterward, he teased Sierra, asking if she’d found Mr. Darcy yet. But deep down, he was ticked that she was trying to be something she wasn’t. He assumed her infatuation would run its course, but then she started holding tea parties in the backyard of the mansion and making nasty cucumber sandwiches. Even though Sierra tried to act like they tasted good, Dalton could tell she hated them as much as he.
As the years went by, his and Sierra’s friendship turned into something more intimate. Dalton forgot about the Jane Austen Pact, chalking it up as a fancy of childhood. It wasn’t until Sierra took off to New York that he realized she’d never given up the idea of finding a more sophisticated man and lifestyle. Well, she’d certainly found it now. Good riddance was all he had to say about it.
He couldn’t deny that a few times tonight, he and Sierra had a connection—the old flame reigniting like wildfire between them. No woman lit him on fire the way Sierra did. The problem was, it had always been Sierra. From the time they were kids, they were inseparable. He had no mother to speak of. His father showed only a mild interest in him when he was sober, and he was the devil when drunk. Sierra had formed Dalton’s every thought. She’d been his home—his safe zone. Ironically, it was the drinking that initially brought them together … two children of alcoholic parents who didn’t fit into the middle-class, well-adjusted family scenario that comprised most of the Sugar Pines population. That connection grew even stronger when Sierra’s mother died in the car accident.
When the other kids turned their backs on Sierra, Dalton was there for her. He understood her shame, understood her pain. Dalton took it upon himself as if it were his own. He’d defended her to the nth degree. Had pledged his love to her. Never in a million years would he have ever thought she’d desert him. A piercing anger scorched through him, sending a streak of burning pain through his head. He wished she’d not come back. Things were going well. He was pretty much healed from the breakup with Miranda and was dating again. Now, his mind was a whirl, the past and present colliding in a big, dark cloud that would suck him in if he let it.
For the first time in years, he wanted a drink. The alcohol called to his blood like a siren to a sailor. He shook his head. No, he couldn’t go there again … wouldn’t go there again. He’d fought long and hard to get where he was, and he wasn’t about to throw it all away.
Not for Sierra or anyone else!
He offered a silent prayer for help and felt a blessed peace settle over him. It was when he was in the military, stationed in Afghanistan, that Dalton developed a good relationship with God. He’d shared a room in the barracks with Randal Murphy from Lexington, Kentucky. The son of a preacher, Randy was always quoting scriptures and praying.
At first, Dalton had scoffed at this, saying it was a waste of time. He’d viewed religion as a crutch for the weak-minded. Dalton had never felt the power of God in his life. After all, where was God when he was growing up and left to fend for himself? Where was God when Sierra’s mother was killed in the car accident that brought a mark of shame to Sierra and her family? It wasn’t until Dalton reached a low point and realized that Sierra wasn’t coming back that he started to feel differently about God. Prayer had literally saved his life, given him the strength to pick himself back up. The power of prayer transformed his life. He owed a lot to Randy. And while it was impossible to tell him all these things, Dalton could certainly live his life as a memorial to his friend.
He pulled back the covers and got into bed, pushing away the despondency. All in all, life was good. Business was booming, his investments were strong, and he was slowly turning this mansion into a showplace. He’d keep taking one step at a time, focusing on all the good things in his life. An image of Sierra’s long, red hair flashed through his mind, crowding out all else. He saw her milky skin, the scatters of faint freckles dotted over her cute nose that turned up slightly on the end. Her full mouth, just right for kissing. The depth of emotion in her bright blue eyes, clearer than a tranquil pool of deep water on a cloudless day. Even after all these years, his skin still burned for her touch. But it was way more than just the physical. Sierra could finish his thoughts, almost before his mind could form them. He loved her throaty laugh. Loved the crease that formed between her brows and the way she held her lips when she was deep in thought. Mostly, he loved the way he felt when they were together, like he didn’t need anyone else in the world but her at his side.
He rumbled out a rueful laugh. Thoughts like this would do him in for sure. He banished all thoughts of Sierra as he turned off the light and closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be!
“Is everything okay? You sound odd … distant.”
Sierra laughed lightly as she leaned back against the headboard, stretching out her legs. “Sorry. It’s just been a long day.” She stifled a yawn, weariness overtaking her. She had at lea
st three hours of work but was so tired she could hardly see straight. Maybe it would be smarter to go to bed now and get up early in the morning when she was fresh. Parker interrupted her thoughts.
“Did you get everything worked out about the accident?”
“Yeah, I’m stuck driving a clunker, but everything should be fine. Thank goodness. The rental car insurance is covering everything.”
“How’s the person you hit?”
Her eyes rounded as she tightened her grip on her cell phone. “Okay, I guess,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. Parker would freak if he knew that she’d rear-ended her ex-boyfriend. And that he’d come to dinner tonight … that she’d be forced to spend time with him overseeing the set construction. No one could ruffle her feathers faster than Dalton. Ever since dinner, she’d been in a foul mood.
“Was the man hurt?”
She scowled. “No, unfortunately not. He’s perfectly fine.” She’d like to smack Dalton upside the head, wipe away that smug smirk on his handsome face.
“Excuse me?”
The shock in Parker’s tone jerked her back to the conversation. She chuckled nervously. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she amended. Her mind scrambled to come up with an explanation to appease him. “The guy I ran into is an old friend from high school. He’s super annoying.”
“Is he giving you problems about the accident?”
She appreciated the note of concern in Parker’s voice. “No, everything should be fine with the accident. It’s pretty straightforward. Thank goodness neither of us got hurt. Dalton’s just an all-around jerk on a personal level,” she muttered.
Parker sighed in relief. “Good.” He paused. “Dalton? Haven’t I heard you mention him before?”
Hot needles pelted over her as her throat went impossibly thick. “No, I don’t think so.” She clutched her neck. Crap! Had she mentioned Dalton? Probably. She couldn’t think of hardly a childhood memory that didn’t have Dalton in it.
“He was your best friend, right? The one you used to go swimming with … at the beach … the times when you skipped school.”
Why hadn’t she learned to keep her big, fat mouth shut? For a split second, she thought about denying it, but that would only make Parker more suspicious. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice sounding small in her own ears. She was surprised when she heard Parker chuckle. “What?” she demanded.
“So, of all people, you rear-ended your former friend?”
“Yep, pretty much.” The irony settled over her, her mouth curving in a humorless smile. Fate was certainly having a heyday with this one.
“That’s crazy.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she muttered, pushing her hair out of her face.
“Wait a minute. This guy … he’s just a friend, right?”
Several things went through Sierra’s mind at once. First, the term friend couldn’t even begin to describe all the facets of her and Dalton’s relationship. Second, Parker sounded jealous, which was kind of gratifying. “Of course he’s just a friend,” she heard herself say.
Parker let out a relieved laugh. “Good. How long do you think you’ll have to be there?”
“What? Are my ears deceiving me? It sounds like the great Parker Henley might be missing me a little,” she teased.
“Of course I miss you. On a personal level and business wise.”
She rolled her eyes. With Parker, everything eventually went back to business.
His voice turned crisp. “How’s the prep going for the meeting tomorrow?”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I’ll be ready, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said dryly.
“Good. Don’t let me down. We’ve got a lot riding on this. And I wouldn’t want the office folks to think that your promotion is owed to anything other than your outstanding work.”
It was crazy how fast the scorching heat rushed over her. “What?” she blustered. “I’ve worked my butt off to get where I am.”
“I know you have,” Parker said smoothly, “which is why I promoted you. I just want to make sure we don’t drop the ball on this account.”
She rolled her eyes, hurt settling like a brick in her stomach. “It’s nice to know you have such little faith in me.”
“I do have faith in you. I’m just worried about the circumstance. I hate that you had to leave so suddenly. This would all be so much easier if you were here with me. I miss you.”
There was the slightest hint of vulnerability in his voice, which caused her to soften. She sighed. “I miss you too.”
“How long do you think you’ll be there?”
She chewed on her inner cheek, calculating the answer in her mind. It was still two weeks until the play started and then there would be two weeks of performances. At the very least, she’d be here a month. “I’m not sure yet,” she hedged. Parker would lose it if she admitted the truth straight out. She’d have to find a way to break it to him gently. “I should probably let you go. I need to get some rest.”
He hesitated like he might say more but then ended with, “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said hurriedly as she ended the call. She tossed the phone down, where it bounced once on the bed. She hated this funky tension creeping up between her and Parker. In New York, everything had been clear. Her life was laid out before her in a straight and glorious path with all her goals nestled neatly at the end like a shining pot of gold. And now? She shook her head. Now, she was exhausted and not thinking clearly. Whenever Dalton entered the picture, things got complicated.
The essence of Dalton washed over her as she glanced at her bedroom window, the black square of night staring back, mocking her. Now that you’ve come back, sat in the same room with Dalton, you won’t have the strength to leave him again. It had nearly killed Sierra to leave him before. The only reason she could do it was because he was away in the Marines. An image flashed in her mind—Dalton’s lopsided smile that deepened his dimples. Few people realized how often Dalton hid behind a surly smile when he was frustrated or angry. But his eyes always gave him away. In the old days, all she had to do was look into them to discern what he was thinking.
Tonight, his emotions had run the gamut—hope, frustration, anger, pain. She balled her fist, pushing aside these treacherous thoughts. No wonder she didn’t like coming back to the quiet and still of this mansion. It gave her too much time to think. In the hustle and bustle of the city, she never had to think all that much.
She stood and went to the window. Pushing aside the sheer curtain, she looked past the shadowy figures of the large oaks to the Drexel mansion beyond. From what she could tell, all lights were off. It was strange to think of Dalton living alone in that huge mansion. Then again, Bennie lived here by herself. But Bennie had always lived here because she inherited it. Not because she chose it. Her gaze went up to the pale moon casting thin shafts of light over the yard. Pops of intermittent light broke the solidarity of the darkness—lightning bugs.
An overwhelming feeling of nostalgia rolled over her, making her long to be out in that yard, dancing in the moonlight. She tugged at the window to lift it. In the past, it had raised effortlessly due to the amount of times she and Dalton went in and out it. But after years of inactivity, the wood was swollen. She grunted, exerting all her might. Finally, with an irritated screech-groan, the window lifted.
Sierra leaned forward, inhaling the balmy air, thick with the sweet perfume of magnolia trees. Her tongue caught the slightest tingle of salt from the ocean, less than twenty miles away. A warm breeze flowed in, bringing with it a slew of long-forgotten memories that whispered of home. It seeped through her pores and into her bones as she let herself get lost in the rhythmic song of the katydids and tree frogs. Despite the turmoil that Bennie had thrown them into, there was a certain comfort that came from being here in this house, looking out at the same scenery that her eyes had beheld since birth.
Her thoughts returned to Dalton, like water see
king the lowest course.
Dalton had always said that when they grew up he was going to buy The Drexel Mansion for him and Sierra so they could live next door to Bennie. Sierra didn’t really believe it, but rather, it was a fantasy they could escape into when things around them got increasingly unbearable. A pang shot through her heart, bringing unexpected moisture to her eyes. She chuckled out a laugh. She’d been here only a few hours and already her defensive wall was crumbling.
She forced her mind away from the despondent thoughts as she moved away from the window. The breeze coming in pushed out the stuffiness, restoring a measure of calm as she sat down on the bed and opened her laptop. While on the phone with Parker, she felt like she could sink into the bed and sleep for days. But now, sleep had fled.
She might as well get a little work done. It would help occupy her mind, keep her from thinking about the one man she shouldn’t. Even as the phrase ran through her mind, another image of Dalton flashed before her eyes.
Stop it, she commanded herself, squelching the thought. “Okay, Pristine Pizza,” she said aloud. “Let’s see what kick-butt marketing plan I can design for you.”
Chapter 8
Hurry up, Sie! Don’t be such a slow poke.”
“I’m coming,” Sierra grumbled, but a smile stole over her lips as she looked at the excitement dancing in Dalton’s eyes. It fascinated Sierra how his eye color changed with his emotions. Today, they were more blue than silver. When they were younger, Dalton was gangly and awkward, but overnight, he’d transformed into a hunk. And he seemed to be growing more handsome with each passing day. Girls at school had noticed it too, which Sierra wasn’t happy about. But thankfully, Dalton only seemed to have eyes for her. Her breath came out in short bursts with each step as she gripped the handrail. “How many steps are there in this wretched lighthouse anyway? A gazillion?”
“One hundred and sixty-seven.”
Seeking Mr. Perfect (The Jane Austen Pact) Page 8