Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (20 page)

“Try holding it a little higher on the handle, like a baseball bat.”

Cooper’s face fell, because he didn’t play baseball. Sara didn’t even think he owned a bat. She was about to step forward and explain when Trey moved behind her son and fixed his grip, doing the first swing in tandem. The mallet made solid contact and Cooper looked up at Trey stunned. Then a big smile spread across his face.

“See how that felt?” Trey took a step back. “Now, you try.”

Cooper did. And the thud of the contact threw him a little off balance. Not that he noticed, not with the way Trey gave him a big manly fist bump as though he’d single-handedly driven the stake through the earth with one swing.

Sara swallowed, so overcome by the wonder of her little guy having fun and bonding with such an amazing man, she decided to not focus on the fact that Trey was leaving. At least not for today. Because right here, right now, Trey was exactly what her son needed.

He was also what she needed
, her heart whispered.

They made quick work of the other stakes and Trey helped Cooper thread the rope through the top of the tent and, after a thorough lesson in square knots, they secured it to each of the poles.

“Hey guys,” she said, leaning over the rail.

Cooper looked up and his eyes went wide. “Mommy! Look! We’re making a tent.”

“I see that,” she said right as Cooper launched himself up the three steps to the porch and into her arms, clinging to her legs like a koala. She gave him a squeeze, only he was already wiggling back to the ground.

“And I malleted the stake into the ground and even tied the rope with square knots, just like the ones for my merit badge test. And we’re going to do pretend campouts in the tent, like boot camp.”

“Boot camp?” Sara looked at Trey whose gaze, dark and heated, tracked right to her skirt, and a shot of hot need pulsed through her body.

Sara had been so excited for the unexpected night off that she hadn’t bothered to change before closing up the studio. Or at least that’s what she’d told herself. That wearing it home had nothing to do with the fact that, earlier that morning in the studio, Trey had slowly peeled it off her body—with his teeth.

Trey cleared his throat and made his way up the steps toward her. He was all bare-chested and sweaty. It was hard for her to focus.

“I was talking to Coop about the campout and he said he had never slept in a tent, so I figured that he and I could set one up and for the rest of the week, take naps in it.” Trey shrugged. “You know, test it out.”

“Trey said that even soldiers do a test run so that they don’t get to the base and have the other soldiers make fun of them cuz they don’t know how to make a tent.” Cooper tugged at his ball cap.

“That was smart.” And thoughtful. And so incredibly insightful. Sara felt herself fall a little more in like with him.

“And look.” Cooper yanked at the bottom of his shirt and pulled it snug.

“Team Bro,” Sara read, her eyes rising to meet Trey’s, and something much more than desire hummed between them. Something warmer, and gentler, and—

Something that was not going to happen,
Sara told herself. So what if he was funny and made her legs turn to mush? They’d made a deal. And when that calendar page changed, he’d be gone, off on another adventure that didn’t include her. Or Cooper.

Stay strong.

“Uh-huh,” Cooper went on. “You know like Team Brady or Team Lock, only since we don’t got the same last name and we’re best bros, Trey had them say this. And look.” Cooper turned around and pointed to a mission statement written on the back. “‘A unit based on friendship, fast cars, and juice boxes.’ And we’re going to wear them every day at camp.”

Yeah, so much for staying strong.

“Why don’t you go get washed up and throw on your jammies? I was thinking we’ll eat dinner while watching a movie.” Sara tugged the bill of Cooper’s hat up to see his face. “I brought home pizza.”

“Pizza?” Cooper hooted. “Did you know Trey’s moving to Italy? They invented pizza and the Ferrari. And he’s going to go to the factory and send me pictures. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Awesome,” Sara repeated what was fast becoming his favorite word. He used it in reference to dinners that lacked green, when his favorite show came on, and almost every time he talked about Trey. And Sara would have to agree, Trey was pretty awesome. “Actually, why don’t you wash up then bring the pizza out here and we can all eat in the tent?”

“You sure?” Trey said, sending a pointed glance at Cooper, who was already hustling through the back door. “I can just order room service when I get back.”

“Please stay.”

Trey groaned and looked up at the sky. She knew he wanted to stay, just like she knew that if he did, things could get real messy, real fast. Which was why he was fussing with his hat and looking perplexed.

She rose up on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For making my kid feel,” she smiled up at him, “awesome. And for making everything okay. No, better than okay.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “And for putting him first.”

“We put up a tent.” He shrugged self-consciously and Sara found it odd that for such a confident—often bordering on cocky—man, Trey had a hard time taking a genuine compliment.

“It wasn’t what you did. It was how you did it. You included him, made him a part of the process, made him one of your pals.”

“Coop was scared that the guys were going to laugh at him because he’d never been camping, and I know how bad it is to be the smallest or the youngest or the odd man out.”

“I imagine it was hard being the youngest in such a large family with so many boys.” It would have been exceptionally hard after they lost their parents.

“Sometimes it was great,” he explained, taking her hand. “There was always someone older to help me out. But other times…Man, it sucked being the baby.”

“You wanted to prove that you could hold your own?”

He met her gaze. “I wanted to prove that I belonged.”

Which explained so much.

He tilted her hand so it faced palm up and absently traced the patterns. “I remember the first time I was old enough to go camping with my dad and brothers, I was so nervous that I would screw up or get scared at night that I wanted to throw up the entire ride, but I would have rather died than let my brothers know. Or my dad.”

He looked up again and there it was, that boyish grin that Sara loved.

“He figured it out as soon as we got to the campsite. He sent my brothers to collect firewood and showed me how to set up a tent. By the time my brothers got back, all the tents were up and my dad said that since I set up camp, I got to sleep with him. And hold the special flashlight.”

“What made it special?”

“My dad said it was.”

“Is that the tent?” She nodded toward the yard.

“Yeah. I found it when I was looking through ChiChi’s garage for my sleeping bag. I didn’t find my sleeping bag, but came across the old tent. I told Coop he could have it after the campout, if that’s all right with you.”

“Won’t you need it?”

“I haven’t gone camping since,” he cleared his throat, “my parents died.”

Sara bet that there were a lot of things that he stopped doing, stopped feeling, after his parents died. And maybe, like her, all he needed was someone to remind him what it felt like to live.

“Want to give me a tour?” she asked, stepping closer, and for the first time, feeling closer to knowing the real man beneath all of that guilt and drive.

“What I want is you,” he said, bringing her fingers up to his mouth to take a little nibble. “But I promised not to make this harder on you, and if we go into that tent—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Cooper was in the house washing up. Trey was still in his glorious half-naked state, which worked for her. The tent—she peeked over his shoulder—had a zipper. And because she had a pretty good idea of what he would do once they got there, but wanted to be certain that his ideas matched up with hers, she said, “And I want to see the tent that a little Trey conquered.”

Trey went very still. “But Coop—”

“I know, it will have to be a quick,” she smiled when his eyes went heavy, “tour.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Then with a growl that made her nipples hard, Trey took her by the hand and dragged her to the tent. He went in first, giving her a spectacular, up-close-and-personal view of his fine ass when he bent over to fit his massive body through the tiny hole, which was followed by an even more intimate get-to-know-you with his abs when he yanked her inside and turned around.

Neither spoke as she zipped closed the flap. But the air between them caught fire as they stared at one another, him silently daring her to make the first move. She was on her knees, he was on his butt, and she was going to break her own rule. The no-kissing-in-the-house rule. Although, technically they were in the yard, not the house. And Cooper would be at least another five minutes since he’d have to shimmy into his pajamas.

She looked around the tight quarters and then at Trey, amazed that such a small space could contain that much male perfection. “I think we should add this to the bucket list. You can teach me how to pitch a tent and then we can spend the night admiring my handiwork.”

“Come here.”

He reached out and hauled her against him, so tight she had the choice of straddling him or falling over. And since straddling him had been on her mind ever since their pole-dancing lesson, and it would give her hands a chance to explore his abs, she figured it was her lucky day.

She meant to tell him that, only he was already kissing her. Hard and potent, and by the time he lifted his head Sara’s whole world was spinning. Her lungs were burning. And her hands were gliding along his six-pack to his flat stomach—on a collision course with a really bad idea.

His hands, however, were moving north, going a long way toward making this the best camping trip ever.

“What exactly would your entry on the bucket list entail?” he said.

More of that.
Through the thin cotton of her shirt his hot hands finally arrived, making her nipples hard and sending shivers across her entire body.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, her fingers getting into the spirit. Yep, he definitely hand-carried his client’s orders. “I have some ideas, but I need another minute for them to solidify.”

“Take your time,” he said and then that talented mouth was against her neck, his teeth gently raking down to her shoulder. “I’ve been solidified since I walked out of your studio this morning.”

She was about to melt into him and forget that this was an adventure, forget that he was temporary, and forget that she wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

“Mommy, I can’t find my Batman undies.”

Trey pulled back and they were both breathing heavy. She looked down at the bulge in his jeans and smiled. “I think I already got the tent-pitching part down.”

CHAPTER 14

C
an you slow down? This isn’t a race.”

The hell he would. Trey’s hands gripped the wheelchair handles and he glared down at Lexi. She was glaring back.

If he had known before he parked that Lexi was going to get all woozy on him, he would have insisted on pulling up to the patient drop-off area. But Lexi had said she was fine, that the walk and fresh air would do her good, and then she stumbled. Right into Trey’s arms.

“And stop panting in my ear.” Lexi crossed her arms over her enormous belly. “You’re gasping like you’re pushing a tank uphill.” She turned back around in her chair, her expression one of complete horror. “It doesn’t feel like that, right? Like I’m a tank?”

“Nope,” Trey lied. “Can barely feel you.”

If there was one thing he’d learned over his two week stint as Hubby-for-Hire, it was that women were sensitive. Pregnant women? They were unpredictable and, when provoked, went for the jugular—or into hysterics. Neither one was something Trey was open to at the moment. Not with his brothers arriving home today. Which was how he found himself pushing Marc’s first unborn, and all of his wife’s weight, up the steep drive to St. Helena Memorial, for her twenty-four week Fit-Mama appointment
.

Lexi had assured him that there would be no needles or womanly photos of any kind, but that he could count on her asking questions. Lots of questions. None that had to do with the sex of the baby, since it was to remain a secret—she’d made that more than clear.

What he hadn’t counted on was Lexi having to stop three different times to use the bathroom on their seven-minute ride to the hospital, or that her appointment started at nine, instead of the eight o’clock pick-up time she had requested. Which meant that if they didn’t get a move on, he’d miss his short window with Sara. Something that had quickly become his favorite pastime.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he pushed her through the doors, not stopping until they were in the elevator.

“We’re in a hospital,” he replied, watching a nurse push an old man on a gurney—right toward them. Trey didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to be stuck in a tight-ass box with a dying man and swinging IV bags. So he punched the close button. Five times.

“What are you doing?” Little Miss Do Gooder asked, pushing the open button and inviting the needles in.

Wheels rolled. Feet shuffled. And the elevator filled.

Trey focused on the floor, and away from the deathbed on wheels that strolled inside—oh God, was that blood in the bag? Trey gagged a little.

“You’re looking a little green. Want to come lie down in my office for a few minutes?” the nurse asked.

“She’ll be fine, she’s sitting down,” he said to the floor—which was moving, odd since the doors still hadn’t closed.

“I was talking about you, Trey.”

Trey looked up and—
ah Christ
—maybe he did need to lie down. There was no way his luck could be this bad.

Kayla stood on the opposite side of the gurney in a pair of scrubs with a special smile just for him. Normally he would have taken that smile and the wicked promise that went with it, but she didn’t do it for him. Not anymore.

“I’m fine,” he lied, stepping closer to the wall—just in case. He hoped Kayla didn’t notice the sweat beading on his forehead or the way his hands were shaking. The last place he wanted to be was in a hospital.

“Yes, you are,” she said with a more than welcoming tone to her voice. Lexi didn’t even bother to hide her amusement with the current situation. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Where he should be is back in his suite. Getting ready for his morning private with his favorite dance teacher. Today they were tackling the Argentine tango. The idea came to him when he found one of her costumes in the prop closet. It consisted of a pair of strappy black heels, fishnets that stopped mid-thigh, and a miniscule dress with a slit up to her bellybutton—and no panties.

Trey watched the elevator buttons change as they slowly ascended, then looked at his watch. He was sweating—but for a whole other reason. Because, honestly, there wouldn’t be much in the way of dancing. They’d get three seconds in, she’d do one of those fancy toe flicks, and he’d flick right back—until the top of her dress was around her waist and her legs were around his middle. Then she’d kiss him as though she’d been craving his touch as much as he had hers.

“Actually, Trey is in town until the end of the month,” Lexi supplied ever so helpfully. And to keep the conversation flowing during the longest elevator ride of his life, she added, “He’s even going to the Winter Gala.”

That got Kayla’s interest. And it was Trey’s signal to leave. If it hadn’t been for the old man moving his arm, causing the clear tubing attached to his hand to pull and Trey to see spots, he would have moved faster when the door dinged and opened on the fifth floor. He managed to move out of the elevator and into the hallway. Just not fast enough to avoid Kayla and her double Ds calling after him.

“Hey, Trey?”

He wanted to keep moving, pretend he didn’t hear. But Lexi pulled the brake on the wheelchair, leaving him with no option but to turn around. Which pissed him off, but amused his sister-in-law to no end because, once again, his past was catching up to him. Only this time Trey had no interest in revisiting it. “Yeah?”

Kayla leaned over the edge of the gurney, far enough for Trey to know that she was a big fan of bright-purple lace, and make the old man’s day golden. “If you’re looking for a partner for the Gala, I do love to kick my heels up and shout.”

“Thanks for the offer, but unfortunately, I already have a date.”

She shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” he lied. There wouldn’t be a next time. Not with Kayla or any of the dozens of women from his past who were just like her; stacked, ready, and didn’t give a shit about anything but a good time.

Marriage might not be in the cards, but neither was floating from one shallow hook-up to the next. Not anymore. Not after Sara. He wasn’t looking for forever, but he couldn’t keep moving through life without connection.

“You have a date?” Lexi said over her shoulder. “To the Gala? This is news.”

“No news.” Trey wheeled her toward the waiting room at the end of the hallway. And before she could say something else about who he was going with, what his date would be wearing, or why he felt the need to keep secrets, he added, “Just an evening with Nonna. Short stick, remember?”

“Oh, Regan and I thought you were going to ask Sara.” Lexi looked disappointed. And damn it if he wasn’t right there with her.

“Well, I’m not. We’re just friends.”

Based on the rules Sara set, there was no way he could take her to the dance and be discreet, especially when there was nothing discreet about the way he was feeling.

Trey considered parking her facing the wall, then realized that she’d talk more because she’d get bored with nothing to stare at, so he spun her around and aimed the wheelchair toward the fish in the tank. Without a word he walked over to the reception desk, signed Lexi in, then walked back and sank into the waiting-room chair.

“You could ask her, though,” she said. “If you wanted to.”

Trey ignored her.

“Don’t you want to? Unless…”

He caved and opened one eye.

“Well, Marc told me about your mom and the dance. I remember that Gala and, um, we just figured that since you are already going, maybe it would be nice to go with someone who makes you smile.”

“Why would you think Sara makes me smile?” he wanted to know. Because they’d been careful. Or tried to be, at least. And once upon a time, not so long ago, that would have been enough.

Before domestication, Trey would come to town, take care of business, and get out. No one said a thing or gave him grief or asked endless questions about where he landed on the smile scale. Then his brothers had fallen in love. And, God help him, he had two sisters-in-law, and a third one on the way, and he couldn’t even dream about a quiet night in his suite to unwind without one of them thinking there was something wrong.

“You mean, Sara, who never misses coming in on her forty-five-minute break to chat and get her coffee fix, yet she hasn’t shown her face since Monday.”

“Maybe she’s just busy with the Gala.”

“Maybe.” Lexi smiled and Trey knew that they were caught. “But that doesn’t explain why you left the hotel at nine fifty-five exactly, to disappear down the alley behind her studio, only to reemerge forty minutes later—”

“Dance lessons.”

“—with your suit all wrinkled and your hair finger-combed.
Smiling
.”

“Are you spying on me?”

“Small town, Trey. Just being neighborly.” God, she even sounded like Marc now, especially when she gave a low whistle and sized him up—more than a little accurate. “Same time, same place. That’s a pretty big commitment for a guy like you. And a pretty big smile for a foxtrot.”

“Yeah, well, smile or not, I’m leaving as soon as the paperwork is ready to be signed.” He even sounded bitter to his own ears.

Lexi slipped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know. Marc called me from the airport and told me that they got the land. And that you agreed to live at the villa until construction is complete.”

“It’s a perfect location,” Trey said, repeating Gabe’s earlier sales pitch. “The house is less than an hour from an airport, it is central to most of our European clients, and I can oversee the construction when I’m home.”

“This is Marc and Abby’s deal. Why isn’t one of them overseeing the construction?”

“Marc?” Trey sat back and looked down at her belly, giving her a get-real look. To her credit she didn’t even blink, just held her ground. “
That
isn’t an option. And Gabe just got Abby home. Plus, she can’t spend more than a week away from Nonna and her nieces, so forget a year. Nah, Gabe wouldn’t let her go, and even if he did, she’d be miserable.”

“Then hire someone.”

Trey laughed, but it was heavy and hollow. “A DeLuca needs to be there, to make sure everything is handled. Plus, I was already moving anyway. This is the easiest solution for everyone.”

“For everyone but you,” she said quietly. “I know what it’s like to constantly be the one to hold it all together. To give up what you want to make sure that everyone else’s life runs smoother. And I also know that no matter how hard you try or how much you tell yourself that it’s all right, that you’re all right, it’s hard. It’s awful and exhausting and eventually it will drain you.”

Lexi had been stuck for years in a marriage that was doomed even before they traded
I do’s.
She gave up her family, her dreams, everything, to make her husband’s life easier, to make their marriage work. In the end, she’d been left with nothing—but a fresh start. Which she’d made with Marc.

Italy was Trey’s fresh start. It would allow him to be the kind of sales guy DeLuca Wines needed, without the daily reminders of how his selfishness cost them nearly everything.

Trey pulled her in for a side hug. Looking at her was too hard. “I’m good, Lexi.”

The minute the words came out, he realized that they were true. For the first time in years, he was beyond good. Only he was afraid that the second he stepped on that plane, the happiness would fade and the big void that had defined the past thirteen years of his life would return. And his time with Sara would end.

She wasn’t the kind of girl to take weekends here and there, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who could offer more. Not with this new project.

“This is what I want.”

“You are so full of it.”

Maybe she was right and moving didn’t have the appeal it used to. But the project put a justified six-thousand miles between him and—everything in St. Helena.

“And since I know that the DeLucas would rather die than admit their well-intentioned plans were rapidly spiraling out of their all-powerful control, I’ll tell you what I told Sara.” Lexi smiled and damn if he didn’t find himself checking the clock again. “Marc and I are babysitting Holly after the Gala. We’re setting up a tent in the middle of the suite for a mock-campout. It sleeps four, so we have one space open, if Cooper needs a sitter.”

“What did Sara say?” With his suite being just across the hall from Marc’s it would be the perfect practice run. Cooper would get to do a sleepover, and Trey would get some kid-free time with Sara. Kid-free time that allowed for a very adult breakfast in bed.

“Oddly, that she didn’t need a sitter. It seems no one has asked her to the dance so she is going it solo.” Her mouth curved slowly in challenge.

“She’s going to the dance solo because she doesn’t want date.”

Lexi leveled him with a look that clearly meant,
you’re kidding, right?
“Every woman wants a date on Valentine’s Day, Trey. It’s in our DNA. If she is saying she doesn’t want one, then it is because she is afraid you won’t ask.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“And yet you’re still around,” Lexi pointed out.

Yeah, he was. Until he was needed somewhere else. Which could be any day now, and when he got the call, he’d have to go. And Sara would stay. And that was going to suck. Big time. But right now, he had a unique opportunity to spend an entire evening with her, talking and dancing and, yeah, getting naked was on the top of the list. So was waking up with her in his arms.

All he had to do was ask.

“She needs a sitter,” he said.

“Good. Then Marc and I will handle getting the kids home and fed after the opening ceremonies, if you are comfortable handling, well, everything else.”

“Alexis DeLuca,” a nurse with a mop of gray curls and teddy bear scrubs called out. She met Lexi’s gaze and smiled. “The doctor will see you now.”

She went to stand and Trey pushed her down. “Sit. Marc will kill me if I don’t go in with you.” He rolled her toward the nurse and added, “And Lexi, there isn’t anything I can’t handle.”

“Uh-huh.” Something about the way she sounded had his guy-dar kicking in, telling him to cease and desist. Turn that wheelchair around and get the hell out of there.