Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (13 page)

He waggled a brow. “You should see my sheet-bend knot.”

“Friend,” Trey said as Frankie fought to open the door wide enough for him and the baby-mobile, complete with Baby Sofie, to enter Petal Pusher: Buds and Vines. A nasty gust of wind blew through the flower shop, sending a bunch of girly smelling petals into the air. “We’re on a date, some other guy is sniffing around, and she introduces me as her friend.”

What the hell was wrong with him? So she introduced him as her friend. To Roman Brady. So what if he rescues small children and animals for a living? Who the hell cares?

Except that he did. He knew what the “friend” maneuver was for, had used it many times before, and knew exactly what it meant—I’m into you, but I’m keeping my options open.

“Yeah, what was she thinking?” Frankie asked, her face serious as she picked up a pot with some bright-purple flowers sticking out the top. She smelled them, wrinkled her nose and set them back. “Roman is great with kids, single, and smokin’ hot in that all-American hero kind of way. He takes classes with her regularly—”

“Regularly?” Trey asked. He had hoped that it was a one-time deal.

“Every Saturday and Monday night that he’s not at the station.” Frankie waggled a brow. And he believed her since Frankie’s brother was also a local firefighter. “Not to mention, he was last year’s PTA Fireman calendar’s Mr. May, as in ‘May I see those amazing abs once more.’”

“You’re not helping.”

“Yeah? Well, neither are you. If I wanted to spend today bitching and moaning and getting all touchy-feely, I would have brought one of the hormone twins.” Frankie crossed the store, stopping at a rack that held an assortment of fresh-cut flowers.

It was obvious that if Trey wanted to bitch and moan some more, he’d have to follow. So he pushed Baby Sofie toward the back of the store, careful to give the big horseshoe-looking arrangement a wide berth since her chubby little hands had pulled free from the baby-blanket burrito.

A bad move, he quickly learned, because Sofie was in desperate need of something to shove into her mouth, which Trey’s quick maneuvering denied her, so she let him—and everyone in the store—know it.

“It’s just that one minute she’s telling me she wants to take it slow, the next she is practically making plans to go out with a guy who is one date away from proposing,” Trey said over Baby Sofie’s cries.

He rolled the stroller back and forth like he’d seen Regan do, but it didn’t help.

Frankie released an irritated sigh and spun to face him. “You’re not going to help me until you bare your soul, are you?” Trey shook his head. “Maybe she is just nervous about getting involved with a guy who is moving in a month.” Trey looked away and Frankie stopped talking, her mouth dangling open. “She doesn’t know that you’re moving?”

“Conversation hasn’t come up.” Hard to do when he hadn’t seen Sara in two days. Okay, so he’d made a point to avoid her since that embarrassing pissing contest at the Sweet and Savory on Saturday. He’d acted like an idiot because, for the first time in his life, Trey had been jealous. Roman flexed his super-dad muscle in Sara’s direction and Trey wanted to stake his claim and run like hell all at the same time.

And that freaked him out.

“Look, I have one hour to find the perfect flowers, so can we cut the crap?” Frankie asked. “Your problem is that you’re too much of a pussy to be honest with her and yourself. So you like her, and from what I hear she likes you, sounds like a good thing to me. Except she’s looking to start over here in town, and you’re looking for a fun way to pass the time before you take off.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then, tell me, what’s it like?”

“I’m not ready to start picking out baby names or anything, but Sara is more than just—” Trey stopped because he honestly wasn’t sure how to finish that statement, just like he wasn’t sure how to feel about his family thinking that he was the kind of guy to screw with a single mom because he was bored. “She’s just more, okay.”

Frankie leveled him with a stare. “Is this just you having your delicate man-feelings hurt?”

Trey thought about that, seriously considered if this was about ego, and finally shook his head. Nope. Unfortunately, what he felt for Sara went way beyond his delicate man-feelings. If it didn’t, he would have walked the second he learned she had a kid.

“Your problem is easy then. Just give her more.” She leaned down and picked up Sofie, who was babbling angrily. Frankie sniffed her diaper, shoved her in Trey’s hands, then turned back around to study her options in floral accessories, leaving Trey with no option than to hold the slobber-monster, who immediately started gumming his tie.

Sofie was too busy ruining his clothes to be disgruntled. Too bad Trey’s mood wasn’t so easily pacified. “How do I do that? Give her more without giving her hope of, well, more?”

Trey could do a month—a month of flirting and dancing which would, hopefully, lead to a whole lot of sex before he left for Italy. Anything more than that wasn’t a possibility. But Sara, she was different. She was the kind of woman who loved, and loved hard. It would only be a matter of time before she fell again. Her heart was too big not to.

Trey, on the other hand, wouldn’t fall.

Whenever love entered into a relationship, things went from fun to complicated, and someone always wound up hurt. Usually someone other than him. And he didn’t want to hurt Sara.

“Because what if she’s lying to herself and she can’t stop at just fun? Or what if she is being honest and I miss out on something great?”

Trey noticed that Sofie had given up on the tie and face-planted against his chest, her little lashes struggling to stay open. So he swayed gently and lowered his voice. “I like being around her. A lot. I even like hanging out with Coop and I don’t do single-mom romances. Ever. But when I’m with her—”

“Why are you still talking? Do I look like Sara? No, I don’t. So telling this to me gets you nowhere. Tell her,” Frankie said, opening a giant refrigerator that spanned the back wall and pulling out a cluster of yellow flowers. “Walk into her studio tomorrow and—”

Frankie turned toward him and froze, her hands strangling an innocent bouquet of flowers. Chilled air and the scent of freshly cut stems slowly crept out of the open refrigerator but she didn’t move. Eyes wide, lips parted, she kept blinking as though to make sense of what she was seeing.

“What?” Trey asked.

“Whoa,” was all she said.

Keeping up a snooze-inducing pace to his sway, Trey looked over his shoulder but saw nothing. He turned back around and realized that Frankie was looking right at him.

“That,” she said, gesturing to his entirety. “Go in there just like that with Baby Sofie strapped to your front, a bottle stashed in your back pocket, and harness the power of the man/sleeping baby thing you’ve got going on.”

“Are you just trying to get out of babysitting?”

“Yes.” At least she was honest. “And if you want to stand a chance against Mr. Smoking Hot, you need to show her you’re a good, honest guy and more than a playboy looking for a one-nighter.” She shook her head and smiled. “Trust me, you and Baby Sofie tag-teaming her? I give it two seconds before she’s ready to listen.”

“And that’s it? Roman’s out and I’m in?”

“What part of being honest and
listening
did you miss?” Frankie asked. “After she fusses over Sofie and how cute you look holding her, you spill your guts.”

“Cute?” he choked.

“Trust me, on you it works. Tempers the frat-boy douche factor,” Frankie said. “So you look her in the eye and say, ‘Sara, I like you and I want to take you out on a date, mano a mano, and maybe, if this works out we can share breakfast tomorrow and for the next few weeks, and maybe you can wear my flower at the Gala. But before you say yes, I need to be honest with you, I’m moving out of the country—as in this can never be anything more than February. But I want to be all of your February.’”

“You really think it’s that easy?”

In his experience, women never responded well to cut and dry. They needed flattery and seduction. Then again, he wasn’t trying to sweet-talk Sara into one night.

“Yeah, I do. I think that honesty goes a long way. And if you don’t tell her the truth before you sleep with her, when she finds out that you’re moving, you’ll be walking around with your nuts in your throat.”

“Are you sure that isn’t just what you’d do?” Trey asked, knowing that Frankie had a trigger-happy knee with a more than accurate aim.

“Nope, it’s what all women would do. And if she doesn’t, then I will. Single moms are a sacred breed and my boots are all polished and looking for action.” Frankie narrowed her eyes, then, just like that, smiled and held up a grouping of flowers in each hand.

“Now which one do you like?”

CHAPTER 9

F
rankie was right. Babies were a total chick magnet.

Trey had taken one step inside the dance studio with Sofie strapped to his front in the baby slingshot, and every woman in the room turned to look at him. Then smiled. Even the gapped-teeth little ones in pink tutus and fairy wings, but especially the ones in their mid-thirties whose lack of a ring hadn’t diminished that internal ticking that made most men run.

Trey would have run, wanted to even, but figured if running with scissors was a bad idea, running with an infant was beyond stupid—and defeated his purpose for coming in here to begin with.

He was only holding the kid because Regan left him alone in the car, and an important client called, which of course woke up the rug rat, who started crying and Trey started sweating. So when the screaming had reached DEFCON 1, he’d sent the call to voice mail and slid the snot-monster into the harness. In tandem, they’d managed to make their way inside the studio—the very crowded studio. And now he was ready to show his baby-man prowess and then signal Regan for the handoff.

Only Regan wasn’t there, but his reason for coming along in the first place was. She leaned across the desk, shuffling through a pile of forms and checking the computer, while a little girl who had suctioned herself to Sara’s leg wailed.

Trey had spent most of the night before thinking about what Frankie had said, and decided to go for the direct approach. If he told Sara he was leaving in a few weeks and she backed off, he would have successfully avoided a disaster. If, however, and this is what he was hoping would happen, he was straight up about what he was looking for and she was interested, then these next few weeks in St. Helena were going to be amazing.

Diaper bag slung over his shoulder, Trey made his way through the waiting room of moms to the desk. A three-foot-tall snowflake zigged by waving a wand and Trey zagged, narrowly avoiding Baby Sofie ripping it out of the girl’s hand.

“Duz-duz-duz-dat!” Sofie screamed, her little legs pumping angrily, kicking Trey in the gut. A couple more inches and the kid would be long enough to do some serious damage.

“Mrs. Reed,” the little girl whispered, wiping her nose on Sara’s leg. “There’s a customer staring at me. I don’t like people staring at me.” Which Trey assumed was part of the reason for the tears.

“If you’re here about the Snowflake Princess performance, I’m sorry, but this class is already full,” Sara said from behind the counter and Trey didn’t bother correcting her. Not when she was bent at the waist, frantically digging through a stack of papers while the silky, very sheer, fabric of her skirt gave him an impressive view of her ass. “Actually, it’s packed, but based on the level of dance experience, I might be able to squeeze one more into the Friday class.”

“I have an impressively proper closed dance hold if that counts, but I’d really like to learn the improper one,” he said, smiling while he waited for her to straighten and meet his gaze.

Several amusing seconds later she did, and her face was a charming shade of pink.

“Will it be covered in Friday’s class or should I book a private?”

“I didn’t know you were still interested.” She smiled but it didn’t really ring true. That was when Trey realized she wasn’t merely frazzled, she was nervous. “In lessons. I didn’t think you were still interested in lessons.”

No wait, make that vulnerable and a little hurt. Exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.

“I’m very much interested.” Trey refused to let his gaze travel over her bust-hugging tank top or her lush mouth, instead focusing on her eyes. “And I’ll take the dance lessons too.”

Sara glanced down at the little munchkin sprouting off her calf, who was watching them with big curious eyes. “I saved you a spot in ballroom medley Saturday night and last night’s Waltz and Rumba Infusion, but you didn’t show up. Or call.”

Her tone was pleasant and her words were polite and he got it—little prying eyes. This was not the time or place for this conversation.

Keeping it G-rated, he explained, “I’m sorry about last night. Regan asked if I could entertain Holly while she bathed Sofie, which turned into an evening of me with a pillow shoved up my shirt for a never ending game of maternity dress-up.”

Which was a half-truth, because even if Regan hadn’t called last minute needing his help, he would have found some excuse not to go. Not until he figured out what he was doing.

“Maternity dress up?” She grinned, real and bright and, goddamned, he was in trouble. “And Saturday?”

She went back to focusing on what he could now see were new student applications, but not before he saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes.

“Saturday, I was—” he stopped and remembered what Frankie said. Straightforward.

Taking a breath, he moved his hand so that their fingers were barely touching. Even that simple contact was enough to send his heart pounding. “Saturday I wasn’t sure if you were with Roman, under the stars, so I kept my distance.”

She looked up at him, her expression startled. “Oh.”

Without breaking eye contact, she reached behind her, grabbed a sheer lavender scarf off the back of her chair and draped it over the little girl. “Okay, Mia, invisibility cloak in place, you can go take your spot on the floor. Just make sure that the other girls hear you coming.”

With an excited giggle, the invisibility cloak scurried out from behind the desk and took off, leaving them blessedly alone—except for a grunting Baby Sofie.

“About Saturday, Roman showed up and…” She exhaled and so did Trey. “He’s just a friend.”

“He wants to be more.” She didn’t look surprised at his comment, only resigned, which meant that she knew that Roman was into her, and yet she’d invited him to join in on their date. “But I guess you already know that. So my question is, what do you want?”

“With Roman?”

He nodded.

“I just want to be his friend.”

He raised a brow. “You called me your friend and I know what you taste like.”

Sara’s gaze dipped to his mouth and her body swayed a little closer. Even though the counter—and a very disgruntled Baby Sofie—were between them, Sara’s body language was loud and clear. She wanted a repeat of the other night, and damn if he didn’t want to give her that.

Only they were surrounded by munchkins and nosy moms. Her phone was ringing, the clock said he had seven minutes until class started and—
sweet baby Jesus
—what was that smell?

“Oh my.” Sara wrinkled her nose and, hand securely over her mouth, took a giant step back—thanks to the poop-machine.

“You going to help me or stand there laughing?”

“Neither, I’m going to answer the phone and think fondly of you as you deal with that.” She paused. This was not how he imagined the day going. “Unless you need me to get Regan. She’s just in the bathroom.”

A place that Trey learned pregnant women spent a lot of time visiting. “Nope, I got this.”

With his hands under the kid’s pudgy little arms, he pulled the ejector cord on the sling and held Baby Sofie up. The pantsuit thingy she was sporting looked a little fuller in the back than it had when he’d put her in the harness.

“So much for being my wing-girl,” he accused, flipping her around to face him. She smiled back, mighty content with herself.

“Doo-doo-doo-doo-dat!”

“Yeah, yeah you did that, all right. Right when I was trying to impress the lady.” Trey leveled the baby with a look. “You and I are going to check this out, but if it looks as toxic as it smells, we’re finding your mom.”

Sofie squealed and started pumping her legs.

Sara just smiled. At him. Fully amused. “Scared of a little dirty diaper?”

“Hell yeah. And man enough to admit it.” He walked around the counter, backing Sara into her closet so that they were hidden from view. “For the record, there’s nothing little about anything going on here. Including this.”

Shifting Baby Sofie to one arm, he leaned in and kissed her. Hard and fast and with enough promise that by the time he pulled back, they both knew that it was game on. Ball was in her court.

“Tap and Barre School of Dance,” Sara sighed into the phone as she pressed a shaky hand to her lips and watched Trey walk toward the restrooms. Heather was right: the man knew how to fill out a pair of pants.

Beneath the fancy suit and silk tie, Trey was an adventure waiting to happen. An adventure, she thought while appreciating the way his slacks hugged that very fine butt of his, she desperately wanted to happen. It had taken everything she had not to purr and rub up against him when he came in, baby in hand, looking like Uncle of the Year.

“Hey, Sara,” Roman said through the phone, cutting off her thoughts. The clipped inflection in his voice had her body going on high mommy-alert. “I’m calling because we had a little incident at Mighty Mites and I need you to come pick up Cooper.”

Incident?

“What happened?” She was already reaching for her purse. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Roman said in that steady, reassuring voice. The man was a rock.

“Are you sure?” Sara’s voice caught and she forced herself to swallow back the tears. “If everything was fine, you wouldn’t be calling me.”

Crying wouldn’t help, but Cooper was so small for his age, and extremely sensitive. Fitting in had been a challenge for him and sometimes it seemed no matter what he did or how hard he tried, a few of the bigger boys took pleasure in giving him a hard time—boys like Hunter. Sara had tried not to baby him, to step back and give him space to work things out on his own. But maybe she should have stepped in earlier.

“I know what you’re thinking, and he’s fine,” Roman said, and all she could think about was what Garrett would have done to those boys. He would have scared the crap out of them. “He just had a little altercation with one of the other kids.”

Sara froze. “An altercation?”

Even the word sounded violent. What kind of mother raised kids who could cause an altercation at age five or six?
A bad mother, that’s who.

“No one is hurt, except for maybe a few feelings, but Hunter’s mom is making a fuss and brought up the zero-tolerance policy.”

“Zero tolerance? You make it sound like Cooper instigated it.”

Roman was silent for a long moment. “He shoved Hunter Lock into a mud puddle.”

“He what?” Sara said a little shrilly.

“I’m not sure who started it, but the result was two crying kids. And the rules state that both of them have to be sent home. I’m really sorry, Sara.”

A strong hand settled on her shoulders and Sara looked up to find Trey standing there, holding a partially naked Baby Sofie and the confidence that he could make everything all right if she’d just let him.

He studied her face and then gently asked, “Everything okay?”

“No, Cooper got into a fight.” She ignored Roman in the background stating that it was a not a fight, but a minor altercation. Then he was going on about ballerinas and football. “They’re sending him home. He’s going to be so upset because today was his day to show off his trophy.”

“I can go get him if that helps,” Trey said and any hope she had of holding it together flew out the window. All the smooth lines and swagger were gone, replaced by something genuine and real. And all Sara could think about was how she had almost missed this side of him. “You take the pooper until Regan gets back and I’ll go get Coop while you teach class.”

The girls. She’d completely forgotten.

Sara rose up on her tip-toes and stared over Trey’s shoulder. Way too many eyes stared back. She took a breath and started counting:
Two…Four…Nine…Thirteen . . Sixteen…A full class.

Last week she had five kids, and today she had a full class of excited little dancers who could fill up a dance floor and charm the elderly. Not to mention, a flock of dancers whose parents paid tuition that would help her afford an assistant. But today Sara had no assistant and no way to just up and leave. She didn’t even have a car.

What she did have was a no longer altercation-free son who needed a ride home—and most likely a hug. Or maybe it was Sara who needed a hug. Regardless, there was going to be a hug-fest.

Rolling back down to the pads of her feet, she looked up at Trey and whispered, “What if he needs me?”

He cupped her cheek. “I’m sure that he will. But since the idea of a few dozen little girls in tutus terrifies me, and you going in there all mama-bear would only embarrass him, I think the best solution is to let me take him home. We can watch Sports Center, toss back a couple glasses of apple juice, and talk guy-to-guy. Then you can swoop in after dinner and give him a hug.”

Sara thought about what Trey was offering, about how great it would feel for just a moment to not be in this alone.

“What about work? Don’t you have work?”

“Some conference calls and phone interviews, nothing I can’t get done at your place.”

“You sure?” she asked, as though her heart wasn’t in serious danger of rolling over and waving the big, white surrender flag. She was pretty sure if he said yes, her crush would turn into something much deeper…that didn’t have an expiration date.