Only in My Dreams

by Darcy Burke

  Apparently it hadn’t been enough.

  She reread the letter and waited for tears to fall, grew angry when they didn’t. Then realized she was angry at him for leaving.

  She looked back at his smiling twelve-year-old face. “Yeah, that was really selfish of you. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve moved home and done whatever it took if you’d asked.”

  But maybe he hadn’t because he’d known she needed to fly. And maybe that made him something less than selfish.

  At last, she felt wetness on her cheeks. Then she smiled. “Thanks, Alex. I love you, too.”

  She refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She hugged it to her chest and lay back on his bed. The morning passed as she stared at the ceiling—she really didn’t know how long she zoned out, but it felt good. Almost as good as she felt when she was with Dylan. It wasn’t about the way he made her feel physically—it was the way he supported her, understood her, cared about her. Yes, the timing was bad and things could go to hell, but life was fraught with risk. And that made the reward all the sweeter.

  She wasn’t giving up on Dylan without a fight.

  After a quick lunch, she drove up to The Alex for the meeting with Dylan and the others. As she stepped out into the dirt parking lot, she realized she should’ve changed—ballet flats weren’t exactly the right footwear for the construction zone.

  When she walked into the trailer and saw Dylan’s reaction to her outfit, however, she was glad she’d kept it on. He sat on the couch set back against the wall beneath a rectangular window, his arm draped over the back. His position was slouchy-sexy and his gaze raked over her, lingering on the necklace she’d worn when they’d met months ago at Sidewinders, with heated approval. So much for breaking up—it seemed he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Good.

  “Sara, you decided to join us,” Tori said from behind her desk.

  Kyle sat in a chair he’d pulled up to the side of the desk, which left the couch as the most logical place for her to sit. Beside Dylan.

  She set her purse on the floor and sat. He pulled his arm from the back and straightened.

  She snuck a look at Dylan, but he was focused on the papers in his lap. “I thought I’d just listen in.”

  Tori launched into the discussion of the three engineers they’d interviewed. There was one both she and Dylan agreed was out, but the discussion as to which of the remaining two to hire was lively. Dylan and Tori each had a favorite and it came down to them asking Sara and Kyle for their opinions.

  “How are we supposed to decide from this?” Kyle said, thumbing through their resumes and portfolios. He handed one set to Sara. “How about rock, paper, scissors?”

  Sara laughed. She was in too good of a mood to contain herself. “Or I could pick a number between one and ten.”

  Kyle chuckled but both Dylan and Tori did not appear amused. “Well,” Kyle coughed, “should Sara and I schedule an interview with the other two?”

  Sara looked at the papers in her hand. “Wait. I know this guy—Cade D’Onofrio. Sorry, I didn’t realize he was the same guy until I saw the picture. I did an anniversary party for his parents a couple of years ago. I like him.”

  Tori rolled her eyes. “You’re just siding with Dylan because—” She snapped her mouth shut. “Never mind.”

  Sara slid a look at Dylan, but he was angled toward Tori. Was he giving her a death stare? Sara shot her sister a WTF look. Tori made a teensy shrug and looked down at her desk.

  “Cade D’Onofrio it is,” Kyle said. “Honestly, I would’ve voted for him based on the paperwork, if it had come to that. His experience is more in line with what we’re doing. Besides, he’s a nice-looking guy, Tor, maybe you’ll hit it off.” He winked at her.

  Tori’s gaze practically threw daggers at him. “Don’t play matchmaker. I prefer to keep business matters completely professional.”

  Ouch. Sara tried to pretend that didn’t sting.

  Dylan stood. “If that’s everything, I need to get back to the site. See you guys.” He left the trailer before Sara could tell him she wanted to talk to him, not that she would’ve after Tori’s comments.

  Sara turned to her sister. “What the hell was that?”

  Tori shuffled the papers in front of her and stacked them to the side on top of a file folder. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. My bad.”

  Sara wasn’t letting her off that easy. Alex’s letter had bolstered her in ways she hadn’t known she needed. There was no need for her to take any crap from her siblings. “What did you mean with that backhanded professional comment?”

  “Nothing, really.” She looked directly at Sara. “Really.”

  Sara relaxed. There was something lurking in Tori’s eyes, something dark and sad. Was she upset about Alex? They all went through bouts of depression about it. Maybe this would cheer her up. “I got my letter from Alex today.”

  Tori’s eyes widened briefly and she sat straighter in her chair. “Where is it? What’d it say?”

  “It’s at home. He wrote some stuff I needed to hear.”

  “That’s great, Sara.” Kyle’s eyes shone with genuine warmth.

  Tori crossed her arms. “Why’d you get yours?”

  Sara grew a little uneasy. Tori seemed pissed. Sara remembered that she’d been upset to learn they had to wait for their letters. “Because I seemed to need it. Aubrey said Alex wanted me to have it when I was feeling overwhelmed.”

  “Are all of our letters like that? I mean, will I get mine if Aubrey thinks I’m overwhelmed?” Tori sounded hopeful.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask, sorry. I’m happy to share mine later.” She glanced over at Kyle who was watching Tori. “He apologized.”

  Tori bent to pick up her laptop bag and set it on the desk. She gathered her files and papers and slipped them into the bag. “Good.” She stood up and pushed her chair back. Kyle got up and Sara joined them.

  “Tori, I’m sure you’ll get your letter just when you need it most,” she said.

  Tori’s mouth twisted into a skeptical smirk. “It’s hard to imagine I haven’t hit that point yet. It’s been rough, hasn’t it?”

  Sara gave her a tight, fierce hug. “We’re just taking this one day at a time.”

  Kyle joined the hug, wrapping his arms around both of them. The embrace reminded her of happier days and felt like just a little slice of normal.

  When they broke apart, Tori left. Kyle said, “She’ll be okay. You know how she is.”

  Emotional, yeah. “I do and I hope so.”

  “All right, I’m outta here. I actually have a, gasp, job to get back to.”

  “How’s that going at Archer? With Dad?”

  Kyle reached for the doorknob. “Not bad. We stick to business for the most part.”

  “And Derek?” That was probably the bigger question. Their rift was perhaps wider and deeper than his and Sara’s had been.

  Kyle blew a gust of air out and glanced at the ceiling. “Don’t ask. We try not to talk to each other, but it’s kind of hard.”

  “Um, yeah. You’re the COO and he’s the CFO. How does not communicating work exactly?”

  “I’m not officially the COO,” he corrected. “Hayden’s on a leave of absence. I’m just a short-term, fill-in lackey. I’m not even sure I get benefits.” He winked at her, always trying to make light of situations.

  “Are you ever serious?”

  He arched a blond brow. “Have you ever known me to be?”

  She shook her head at him and released a smile. “Only when your life depended on it.”

  He gave her a quick hug. “Love you. See you later.”

  Alone, Sara squared her shoulders. Time to go talk to Dylan. She walked outside and paused, looking down at her rather inappropriate outfit for a construction site. Once she’d made up her mind, she’d wanted to see him right away, but now she realized interrupting his workday probably wasn’t the best idea. Best to catch him tonight at home. Altering course, she wen
t back to her car and drove home to wait through the interminable afternoon and evening hours until she could see him again.

  BY THE TIME Dylan drove up his driveway, it was full dark. It had been a long, exhausting day, but seeing Sara had definitely been the highlight. He’d missed her over the last week, more than he thought he would and definitely more than he cared to admit. He’d thought of calling her—after all, they’d agreed to remain friends. But he doubted they could do that. They were always tempted to be something more.

  He squeezed the steering wheel, wondering if they’d made a mistake. No, failing at a relationship with her, letting her down—that would be an even bigger mistake.

  His mind froze as he recognized her car parked next to his house. He shut off his truck and got out, wishing he didn’t look and smell like a construction dog. As he carried his lunch cooler up the stairs, she jumped from the porch swing. “Hi. Hope you don’t mind that I was waiting for you.”

  “No, but let me turn a light on.” He unlocked the door, set his cooler inside, and threw the porch lights on.

  “Thanks, it’s pretty dark up here. I had this flashlight in my purse though.” She held up a little handheld light that looked as though it doubled as a mini standup lantern. “A guy I know suggested carrying one for safety purposes.”

  He thought of that day in the tunnels with her. It seemed forever ago and yet like yesterday. “Good plan.” He should invite her in, but he was petrified of what might happen. They couldn’t keep falling into bed together. It wasn’t going to help anything.

  She wasn’t wearing her hot little outfit anymore, but a pair of jeans and a basic purple long-sleeved T-shirt. She fingered the edge of the sleeve, which told him she was maybe a little nervous. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms to give his hands something to do besides itching to touch her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s good. Great, actually.” She smiled at him. “I think we made a mistake.”

  Shit. She wanted to talk about that.

  Her fingers moved faster along the hem of her sleeve. “I think we should try to make this work. In the real world.”

  Shit, shit, shit. “Nothing’s changed, Sara. We still have The Alex, and if things don’t work out . . . ”

  “I know and I’ve thought about that. Things are awkward either way. Today with Tori didn’t show you that?”

  Yes, it had, but there were degrees of awkward. A full-on breakup after a full-on relationship would be a hell of a lot more difficult than what they were currently navigating.

  She crossed her arms and flexed her shoulders and biceps. “Now that I’ve decided to move back to Ribbon Ridge permanently, I’m looking forward to the next chapter in my life. I’m excited about The Alex. About being home again with my family. About a future with you.”

  He was happy for her, but freaking out about the last thing she’d said. “Sara, I still don’t think this is a good idea—us, I mean. The timing is still lousy.”

  She moved toward him. “When is timing ever good? We’re pretty good together, aren’t we?”

  Better than good. “Physically, yes, but we can’t build a future on that.”

  Her brow creased. “No, but it’s also not all we share.” She glanced at him and quickly looked away, clueing him that her senses were likely out of whack. “We have friendship and trust. The only thing missing is commitment.” She took another step forward, her gaze connecting with his. “I’m ready to make one, if you are.”

  “Sara, it’s so much more than that.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, felt the two days of growth there, and bizarrely compared it to the prickliness to this goddamned conversation. “What you’re offering is . . . it’s more than I deserve.”

  Her brows knitted. “What do you mean?”

  “You said it wasn’t fair to me for us to pursue anything. What I didn’t say, and should have, is that it isn’t fair to you either. There’s a reason I stick to one-night stands. I’m terrible at relationships. Look at my marriage. Look at my family. I’m a total failure. I’d only end up hurting you in the long run, and I can’t bear that.” He registered the hurt in her eyes and despised himself for starting things up with her in the first place. She was a spectacular woman with so much to offer—someone else. “It’s better to call this quits now while we can still be friends. I hope we can still be friends.” He said it to convince himself as much as her because right now he wasn’t sure how he could stop thinking of her as his lover.

  “I see.” She sounded like she couldn’t breathe. She’d dropped her head and was staring at the boards of the porch.

  God, he was an asshole. But how much worse would this be six months from now? “I’m saving you a lot of heartache.”

  When she looked up, her eyes were full of fire. “I believe you think that and for now, I don’t know how to convince you otherwise. You say you’re saving me a lot of heartache, but my heart is aching. Right now. It’s too late to protect me from falling in love with you, Dylan. It’s done. I’m there. I’m here.”

  Fuuuuuck, she’d said the L word. It was like a Mack truck had smashed into him from all sides. Emotion bubbled up in him, but he squashed it down. Loving her didn’t matter. He’d loved Jessica too and that hadn’t mattered. He’d tried to love his family and that hadn’t mattered. If you kept trying something and it didn’t work, at some point you had to accept that it was broken. He was broken.

  “Sara,” he didn’t know what to say. “I’m . . . not in love with you.” Saying it cut so deeply because he suspected it wasn’t true. He thrust the thought away—he couldn’t love her. Love was an emotion that just never worked out for him.

  She put her hand over her mouth. Then she nodded, turned, and started down the porch steps.

  His own heart was aching, but he really and truly thought this was for the best. For her. Better to disappoint her now than later.

  As she drove away into the night, Dylan slumped back against his front door. If he was doing the right thing, why did it feel so wrong?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AN HOUR LATER, after taking a scalding hot shower that did nothing to warm his insides and drinking a beer that did even less, Dylan crashed on the couch. He put his feet up and stared at the ceiling, not even registering whatever show he’d landed on when he’d thrown the TV on. Some sitcom.

  The sound of his doorbell jolted him upright. He turned off the TV and listened, wondering if he hadn’t heard the noise as part of some wishful thinking.

  No, he didn’t want Sara to come back. He’d done the right thing.

  The bell rang again. He considered ignoring it, but decided he wasn’t that big of a dick.

  With a slow, heavy gait he made his way to the entry hall. Then nearly tripped when he saw his parents—his dad and mom—through the window.

  He opened the door. “Uh, this is weird.”

  “Hello to you, too.” Mom didn’t wait for an invitation, but pushed in past him. “Goodness, you still haven’t done anything with that room?” She was looking at the front parlor, which was covered with godawful floral wallpaper and a hideous oak chair rail from the late ’80s. Mom hadn’t been here since shortly after he’d moved in, what, three years ago?

  He didn’t say anything, just led them toward the back of the house. He heard Dad shut the door behind him.

  “This better?” he said as he moved into the kitchen. He took a small amount of pleasure from Mom’s obvious shock.

  She turned about, gaping. “It’s gorgeous. Why doesn’t the whole house look like this?”

  “Little things called time and money.”

  She glanced at him before continuing her visual inventory. “But you do all of this yourself.”

  “The granite and appliances aren’t free, Mom.”

  She sniffed. “I suppose.”

  He went to the fridge and pulled out another beer. “Can I get you guys anything?”

  “A beer
would be great.” Dad smiled, but his eyes were dark, like he was a bit apprehensive.

  Dylan got a second beer, opened them, and handed one to Dad. “Mom?”

  “No, nothing for me.” She slid her hand across the countertop. “I can’t get over how fabulous this looks. Who designed it?”

  “I did.”

  Her jaw sagged. “Really?”

  Dylan nearly laughed at her reaction, but he was too emotionally drained. “Yeah, really. So what brings you guys up here? Together. This is weird.” He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t seen them together since his wedding.

  Mom and Dad glanced at each other. Dad took a drink of beer. “We wanted to talk with you. To apologize, mostly. Should we sit?” He half turned toward the great room.

  “Suuuurrre.” Dylan preceded them and took a seat on the couch. Dad sat beside him and Mom took one of two chairs that were angled in front of the windows. They wanted to apologize? He looked at Dad. “Is this because of what happened last week? I texted you an apology.”

  “I know, but it wasn’t necessary. I’m,” he shot Mom a stern look, “we’re the ones who need to apologize. And it’s been a hell of a long time coming.”

  Holy shit, he wasn’t sure he was ready for this. Not tonight. His insides were already pummeled into bits after Sara. “Why now?”

  “Why not now?” Dad shook his head ruefully. “I’m so sorry it took you losing your cool for me to open my eyes. I thought we did a decent job, that you were happy. You were so young when we split up, I never imagined our divorce affected you.”

  “It didn’t—at least not in the way it does for most kids, I guess.” Dylan shrugged. He had an odd sensation, as though this conversation wasn’t really happening.

  Mom scooted forward to the edge of her chair. “I know things haven’t always been easy between you and Bill.”

  “He doesn’t like me, Mom. Never has.” Though how did an adult not a like a kid? Especially when they were married to that kid’s mom?