“Dad!” Stacey laughed, self-consciously sliding her hand over her dark hair, which now had hot pink chunks blended into it. “Knock it off.”
“What?” Dylan probed innocently. “Your hair … was not that color on Tuesday when I saw you at dinner.” Pink. Really? “A father has a right to know when his child is havin’ some sort of … breakdown.”
“I happen to think it looks awesome,” a gravelly voice countered, pulling Dylan’s attention away from his daughter.
Pops came ambling into the kitchen, a little slower these days, a smile on his aged face as he leveled his golden-brown eyes at Stacey. Dylan rolled his eyes. Xavier Thomas was in his eighties. What did he know about fashion statements of college kids?
“Of course you would,” Dylan said slyly, forcing a smile as he continued to stare at his daughter’s outrageous hairdo before turning his attention to his grandfather.
Pops shot him a glare—his way of intimidating Dylan into keeping his mouth shut. Generally, that look didn’t work, because Dylan had spent most of his life rebelling against his grandfather, but today, he managed to keep his comments to himself.
“Thanks, Pops,” Stacey crooned before stealing an apple from the counter and disappearing as quickly as she’d appeared.
“That girl,” Dylan mused. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with her. Next thing you know, she’ll have her face pierced.”
“She’s twenty-three. What do you expect?” Pops teased.
Before his grandfather could say anything more, in walked Dylan’s son, Nate, who, unlike Dylan’s daughter, wasn’t smiling. Thankfully, Nate’s hair was normal, though. Dylan wasn’t sure what he’d do if both of his kids went wild. As it was, he was still having a hard time getting used to the fact that Nate was twenty-one years old and more than a couple of inches taller than Dylan was. The kid he’d known had grown into a fine young man.
“Hey, Dad. Pops,” Nate greeted coolly. “Have either of you talked to Alex?”
“I stopped by his house earlier. Why?” Dylan questioned.
Dylan watched Nate closely, noticing the way his son didn’t maintain eye contact for long. It wasn’t a secret that Nate had gone to Alex about making his job at CISS full time and permanent despite Dylan’s insistence that Nate further his academics before stepping into that sort of role. But after a rather heated conversation with Alex at the time, Dylan had relented to Alex’s request to hire the boy on before the merger so that Nate would have an official position with Sniper 1 Security. Perhaps Nate still wasn’t happy with Dylan about his reaction to the situation.
Nate had been working for CISS since he graduated from high school three years earlier. Although he’d only been pitching in part time, it looked as though Nate was definitely interested in pursuing a long-time career in the security business. However, whenever Dylan had attempted to discuss it with Nate, aside from a few brusque responses to Dylan’s questions, Nate hadn’t talked much.
Seemed Nate was happy with the job, though. Or so Alex had told him.
That didn’t mean Dylan liked the idea of his son working for CISS, especially with things the way they were. As far as Dylan was concerned, school was the most important thing for his children, and if Nate expected to make a career in the security industry, Dylan wanted him to graduate from college with a degree that was worthwhile. Seemed that Nate and Alex were content with the two-year degree he’d already accomplished, and they’d brushed Dylan’s concerns off.
And yes, Dylan had been called a meddling father on more than one occasion, but he was a firm believer that that was what fathers were supposed to do. Even if their kids were grown and no longer wanted their father interfering in their business.
“Why’re you lookin’ for Alex?” Dylan asked his son.
“No reason,” Nate said curtly before turning and abruptly leaving the room.
Well, hell.
What was it with his kids and their hasty disappearing acts? If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were keeping their distance for a reason. Granted, Dylan knew he had to accept some responsibility since he hadn’t been the greatest father in the world—not since Meghan died anyway.
“Wow, Dad,” Pops teased. “Way to run off the kids.”
“It’s a skill I’ve acquired,” he told his grandfather.
“I can see that.” Pops went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea, then retrieved two glasses from the cabinet. “Goin’ somewhere tonight?”
“I was thinkin’ about it,” he admitted. After leaving Ashleigh and Alex’s, Dylan made a quick stop, then he’d gone back to his house—the three-bedroom guest house at the back of his grandfather’s vast estate, where he’d been living for the past four years—and showered, shaved, and dressed in record time. Now, as he sat at his grandfather’s kitchen table, he was beginning to rethink his decision to go to Devotion.
“You look good, kid,” Xavier said. “Whatever you do, don’t change your plans. You need to get outta the house.”
“You don’t even know where I’m goin’,” Dylan countered, wondering, not for the first time, if his grandfather could read his mind.
“Doesn’t matter. You need to do something.”
Dylan nodded, then looked away from Pops.
“Did you…?” Pops’ gaze drifted to the door, then slowly back to him. “Did you visit Meghan’s grave yesterday?”
Swallowing hard, Dylan nodded. Another trip behind him on a day he dreaded because the memories still brought him to his knees.
Eleven long years of nursing a shattered, brittle heart after the death of his wife—his best friend in the world—had left Dylan feeling like a body without a soul. He had watched Meghan suffer, withering away, her fragile body succumbing to the cancer that riddled it while fighting the chemo the doctors had warned them wasn’t a sure thing. Up until her very last breath, Dylan had hung on, praying that God would not take her from him, but in the end, she had died. Right there in his arms, while he was unable to contain the tears as the love of his life was taken from him.
A knot formed in his throat as the memories took root. They hadn’t even gotten to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary when she was taken from him. And through the decade since her death, Dylan had kept himself shut off from everyone, wallowing in his own pain and giving everything he had left—which admittedly hadn’t been much—to his two children. It had been on the day Nate had graduated from high school four years ago that something inside of him broke open.
Maybe it had been the fear that he had nothing left to live for because his children were making their own paths in life that had caused him to backslide. Or perhaps it had been due to Ashleigh—the one person who had stood beside him for so many years, never allowing him to fully immerse himself in the black despair that had threatened to drag him under—hooking up with Alex, Dylan’s business partner and best friend, that had done it.
Either way, the despair had continued to cloak him like a wet blanket, and he hadn’t been able to find his way out from beneath it. He hadn’t had a single relationship since Meghan’s death. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, to try to get close to someone.
But there had been one woman.
Sarah.
Somehow, Sarah had always been able to make him smile. Back when he’d first met her roughly twenty-five years ago, when she’d been a bright-eyed freshman and he’d been a senior in high school, and in recent years when he’d run into her again.
For whatever reason, Sarah understood him. Whether it was due to the fact she’d suffered her own loss or because she could see through to who he’d been before his life had been forever changed.
Ever since he’d reconnected with her, he’d felt something that resembled hope. At that time, she’d convinced him to join a grief support group, which he’d been reluctant about but had opted to give it a chance. It hadn’t been his thing, but he’d gone a couple of times since she’d asked. But it wasn’t until their sex
ual encounter that one memorable night when he’d stopped all communication with her.
Until that night at her house, they hadn’t been intimate, nor had he ever expected them to be, but somewhere along the way, Sarah had become a friend. And he’d taken advantage of that. Until recently, he had tried not to think about her, but there were a few occasions where his thoughts of her had helped to clear the fuzz from his brain, offering him tenuous optimism that there might possibly be something to live for other than his children.
But then, Dylan would feel guilty for wanting to move on, afraid that if he fully dug himself out of the gloom he had become so intimate with, Meghan would somehow feel forgotten. But his sweet Meghan wouldn’t have wanted this for him; even he knew that. She would be disappointed to know he’d basically died right along with her.
“Hey.” Pops’ voice pulled Dylan from his thoughts and he looked up at him. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry,” he said, grabbing his now empty coffee cup before he stood. Figuring one more jolt of caffeine couldn’t hurt, Dylan made his way around his grandfather to the coffeepot.
“So, what’re your plans tonight?” Pops inquired.
Dylan did not want to tell his grandfather that he was going to a fetish club. “Just goin’ out.”
“With friends?” Pops asked.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Luke McCoy and Cole Ackerley, the owners of Devotion, were technically his friends.
“Good. We’re gonna stay in tonight. If you need anything…”
Dylan nodded. These days, Xavier spent his time with the woman he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with years ago. Veronica Sellers. Xavier’s administrative assistant. Though she was more than two decades younger than Pops, it was clear she wasn’t after his money. From what Dylan had seen, they were genuinely in love.
“Thanks,” Dylan muttered as Pops left the room, carrying his tea glasses.
Pops would be the last person he would contact, but he appreciated his grandfather’s support. The man had been the most prominent person in Dylan’s life since his own parents had died when he was young. Xavier had raised him and Ashleigh, and had been more help than anyone else by assisting with Stacey and Nate after Meghan’s death.
But tonight, Dylan didn’t need anyone to keep an eye on him. It was high time he got out there, did something to change the course of his life, because otherwise, he was simply existing.
And he knew that was no way to live.
chapter EIGHT
SERIOUSLY?
Sarah wasn’t sure her day could get any worse. But this… It merely confirmed for the millionth time that this was by far her most irrational decision ever.
After dinner, when Bill told her it was time to change to go out, Sarah had broken down and informed him that unless she could wear slacks and a silk shirt, she hadn’t brought anything to wear. But if she’d thought that would deter the man, she’d been oh so wrong. Instead, he had put his hand at the small of her back and guided her into a store within the resort. And it definitely wasn’t one of the department stores she normally shopped at. No, this place was…
It was out of her price range, for one thing. She knew that by the flashy décor and the fact that there were very few items placed strategically around the walls on glass shelves. For another, she wasn’t sure half of the dresses they had in there would even fit her. It wasn’t easy to find dresses for her petite frame most of the time. But, again, Bill had taken her hand and led her right to the sparkly woman with the perfectly coifed hair and flawless makeup who was standing behind the counter, informing her that Sarah needed something for the evening.
That had been fifteen minutes ago.
The woman had been more than happy to help her find just the right dress. With a quick perusal of Sarah from head to toe—twice—she’d apparently decided what she thought would work for her.
“Now, if you’ll jot down your sizes, I’ll get to work.”
Sarah took the small pad from the woman and scribbled down her sizes. Dress, panties, bra, shoes. Hell, at this point, the woman now knew every intimate detail about her.
After guiding Sarah to a dressing room, the woman headed back to the “salon,” as she called it, then returned a few minutes later with several dresses for her to choose from.
The first had been way too short.
The second had a neckline that should’ve been labeled indecent.
The third one had been a rather unusual shade of lime green that no one over the age of twelve should ever be seen in.
The fourth… As she spun around, looking at her butt and the backs of her legs, Sarah had to admit, it wasn’t bad. A short, shimmery gold dress that didn’t show too much but was still short enough to be sexy. No, it wasn’t something she would’ve picked out for herself, but she liked it.
“Have you found one, sweetie?” the woman called from the other side of the door.
“I think so,” she admitted, eyeing the tag on the back of the dress.
Sarah hadn’t bothered to look at the price, but before she could move closer to see it, the woman opened the door and stepped into the room with her as though she’d been invited.
“Gorgeous,” the woman said excitedly. “You’re gonna need a bra to go with that. That one positively won’t work.”
No, Sarah hadn’t figured it would. The single-shoulder dress would require a strapless bra, for sure. Which meant Sarah would have to fork over more money for that. Not that the woman seemed to mind.
“What size were you again?”
Sarah rattled off her size, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She had no idea if Bill was close by, but for some reason, she didn’t want him to know something quite that personal.
The woman disappeared but returned almost instantly, holding out a sheer gold bra and a matching gold thong.
Sarah stared at her as though she were crazy.
“Come on, sweetie. Don’t wanna keep that man of yours waiting.”
Sure she did.
First of all, he wasn’t her man. And secondly, Sarah didn’t mind if Bill waited forever because there was no way this night was going to get any better. For either of them.
“If you’d like, you can change here and we’ll have your other clothes sent back up to your room.”
“No,” Sarah said, peering in the mirror again. “That’s okay. I’ll change up in my room.” It would give her time to weigh the risks of rappelling down the side of the building and disappearing into the night.
The woman got the hint, leaving Sarah alone so that she could get dressed in her own clothes once again. Once she was decent, she took the opportunity to look at the tag on the dress and her heart nearly leapt right out of her chest.
Holy crap.
There was no way she could afford that dress without putting a sizeable dent in her credit card. And she certainly wasn’t letting Bill pay for it. Not when she fully intended to end their relationship tonight. Then again, what she should’ve done was march right out of the store and tell Bill that it wouldn’t work but thanks again.
Only she had been the one to call him and agree to his offer, so the guilt ate at her.
With the dress, bra, and panties in hand, Sarah returned to the front of the store, greeted once again by the smiling saleswoman. Before she could say a word, the items were snatched from her hand, put into a fancy clothing bag, and then handed back.
“All taken care of, sweetie. Even have shoes in there for you. Have a fantastic night.” The woman winked at her, and Sarah was tempted to toss the clothes back on the counter and run.
“I didn’t pay for them,” Sarah said, her voice low.
“Your man did.”
“I can’t allow him to do that,” she countered, digging in her purse for her wallet.
When Sarah held out her card, the woman frowned.
“Please,” Sarah pleaded. “Return the money to his card and charge mine.” Or better yet, just return it all and let me leave.
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br /> Unfortunately, she didn’t have the nerve to say the last part aloud, so Sarah stood there, gripping her purse straps tightly while the woman did something on the register. A few minutes later, her credit card was thrust back at her, and Sarah was regretting every second of the past two days.
“Anything else?” the woman asked curtly.
Never one for confrontation, Sarah shook her head in disbelief and then walked out of the store.
Bill was waiting for her just outside.
“Did you find something?”
She nodded.
“Perfect. How long will it take you to change?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Half an hour?”
“Fantastic. I’ll be in the bar. Meet you there?”
Sarah offered another nod.
Bill kissed her cheek and then left her standing there, staring after him.
She had to end this. Now. Before it was too late and she got herself in a predicament she couldn’t get out of.
What’re you gonna do? Go home and play with your cats?
Ugh! Sarah did not like that taunting voice. So what if she spent her nights alone. It wasn’t as though she was missing out on anything.
Her mind immediately conjured images of her night with Dylan.
Okay, fine. So yes, that was the type of spark she was looking for. But clearly that wasn’t going to happen with Bill, so going out tonight was just a waste of time. Hers and his.
How do you know if you don’t try?
Gritting her teeth, she ignored the voice in her head and stormed toward the elevator, dress, shoes, and underwear in hand. If her subconscious thought it knew best, she would just have to show it who was boss.
Nearly an hour later, Sarah made her way back to the main floor of the resort, doing her best not to fall and break her neck on the four-inch stilettos the woman had clearly thought accentuated the dress. They did, Sarah couldn’t deny that. But she wasn’t good with heels, regardless of their height.
A slow whistle sounded, and Sarah braced herself when Bill got to his feet and joined her as she stepped into the bar area.
Distraction (Club Destiny Book 8) Page 10