What the Heart Wants (15 page)

“Exactly,” Chelsea exclaimed. “Dylan didn’t deny the accusation—because he’s interested in you. He didn’t confirm it, either—because he isn’t sure if you are interested in him.”

“I’m not,” Heaven mumbled.

Yeah, right. Hope wasn’t buying it. Chelsea’s knitted brows said she wasn’t swallowing the pile of bull, either.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t be interested, Hev,” Hope scolded. “The man stuck his neck out for you, yesterday. He’s sexy, seems sweet, and he’s mannerly. What’s not to like?”

Heaven leaned against the pillows. She released a sigh as her eyes went to the ceiling. “He’s a musician. He’s probably got a little black book full of women who would be at his door in minutes. Not to mention how many throw themselves at him on a daily basis.”

“That’s not the vibe I get from him,” Hope said. “Layne, um, yeah. Layne’s like the male version of Faith. But Dylan…I don’t think so.”

“You’re right, Hope,” Chelsea piped in as she glanced down at her watch. “Out of all of Kyle’s friends, Dylan is the most reserved. In the few years I’ve known him, he hasn’t dated anyone.”

“That you know of,” Heaven mumbled.

“Oh, trust me, if he was dating anyone, Layne would know, and he would have made a big deal about it,” Chelsea retorted. “I even asked him a few months ago why he wasn’t dating. He told me that he hadn’t found the right woman, yet.”

Heaven showed no change of heart.

God, she was stubborn. More so than Faith at times.

Hope hated it when she got in these moods.

“Are you not interested in Dylan because you’re hung up on this dream guy?”

Heaven jerked into a sitting position.

Uh-oh.

Hope realized too late she shouldn’t have made the comment. Heaven was shooting daggers at her.

* * *

Her sisters were out to kill her today. Heaven was sure of it. Faith took the first shot with the newspaper article. Now Hope wanted to divulge all of her secrets.

What the hell…

“Sorry, Hev. I thought Chelsea knew. I mean, you tell her everything.”

Normally, she did. But considering Chelsea’s calls had decreased in the past few months, Heaven hadn’t had the chance to tell her anything.

“What dream guy?”

Great.

“It’s nothing,” Heaven said, ripping the covers from her legs. She shifted until her perfectly manicured toes touched the carpet.

“You might as well tell her, Hev. She is your best friend.”

“Why don’t you, since you made the announcement.”

“Watch it, Hev. You’re starting to sound like Faith,” Hope chided.

Ouch. Hope could sling insults when she wanted. Usually, they were reserved for Faith. So, maybe Heaven deserved it. What was the old saying? If the shoe fits…

Yeah.

“You know how private those dreams are,” Heaven barked. “My God, while you’re at it, tell Chels about Mick, too.”

“Who in the hell is Mick?”

Poor Chelsea. She looked like someone had pulled the rug out from under her. It wasn’t her wide-eyed gaze that filled Heaven with guilt. It was the way Chelsea’s lip quivered.

If she started crying…

“I’m sorry, Chels,” Heaven said, as she jumped up from the bed. She walked over to Chelsea, wrapping her arms around Chelsea’s cool ones. “No tears on your wedding day. Unless they’re tears of joy.”

“Hev, why are you keeping secrets from me?” Chelsea’s voice wavered.

Heaven pulled back, meeting her best friend’s eyes. “Being a little hypocritical, aren’t we?”

Really hypocritical.

Heaven had only known about the wedding for the last twenty-four hours.

“I know I kept my relationship with Kyle a secret. I didn’t want to jinx things.”

“I’m sorry.” Heaven took her back into an embrace. Her hands glided over Chelsea’s back in a circle. “If it makes you feel any better, Hope doesn’t have many details either. It’s something very personal to me and hard to talk about.”

“Well, what about this Mick guy? Who is he?”

That’s one trip down memory lane Heaven didn’t want to travel. It had taken months for her to get over the pain Mick had caused. Truth be known, his name still sent a chill coursing through her.

“Mick is my psychotic ex. I’ll tell you more about him later. And as far as my dreams, I’ve been dreaming about this guy for the last six months.”

Chelsea was the one pulling back this time. “Sounds kinky, Hev,” she chuckled.

“Hardly. I don’t know who he is because I can’t remember what he looks like. All I know is that he has dark brown hair and eyes…and very kissable lips.”

“Dark hair and eyes, huh?” Chelsea’s eyes brightened as she stared past Heaven. “Like Dylan’s?”

Heat shot to Heaven’s belly. She didn’t want to admit that Chelsea was right. That would give her more reason to insist Heaven give Dylan a chance.

“Don’t even think about it, Chels. I wasn’t dreaming about Dylan. I think I’d remember his face.”

“Dreams are vague, Hev. You said that you don’t recognize the guy. Maybe you saw Dylan on TV or something and it stuck with you.”

God, did Chelsea have to wriggle her brows like that?

Heaven glanced at the clock. “Oh, my, look at the time,” she said, breaking their embrace. “We better get busy. Our appointment with the stylist is in an hour.”

“Fine, I’ll get ready. It doesn’t change the fact that you were dreaming about Dylan.”

“I wasn’t dreaming about Dylan.”

“Yeah, you were.”

Heaven gave Chelsea a peck on the cheek before walking toward the bathroom. If she couldn’t change the subject, she could at least remove herself from the conversation.

“Walking away doesn’t change the fact that Dylan is into you. Or that you’re into him. Denial is the roadblock to happiness.”

Thanks, Captain Obvious.

Heaven knew the truth of Chelsea’s words. From the moment she met Dylan, there was an unexplainable force pulling her to him. Every time she looked at Dylan, hell every time she thought about him, the knot in her stomach spread to her chest. It didn't prove that he wanted her. It only proved that she was attracted to him.

She could still hear Chelsea and Hope chattering as she left the room.

“You know I’m right, don’t you? That she and Dylan are into each other?”

“He watches her every move. A blind man could see the chemistry between those two.”

* * *

Dylan stood at the door, staring at the backside of his estate. More like staring at the willow tree. The same tree in almost every dream he had of Heaven.

Last night, there was no dream.

Had he drunk too much at Kyle’s bachelor party and dulled his brain?

Or did the dreams go away because he’d finally found his dream girl?

Heaven Lewis.

Her name was as beautiful as she was.

He’d spent a few moments before drifting to sleep, repeating her name like a mantra. Each second he had with her yesterday played in his mind. The sound of her voice. The moment he laid eyes on her. The overpowering surge of fear when he went looking for her.

Could you feel another person’s emotions?

No more than you could read a person’s mind or see the future…unless…

His mom. She couldn’t read minds, but her intuition was impeccable. Could he have developed a sixth sense of his own?

No way. It was time to come back to reality. But what could distract him from thoughts of Heaven?

He glanced over at the newspaper in Layne’s hand.

Bingo.

When he got a hold of Sid Baker, the old fart was going to pay. Just how, he hadn’t decided yet, but Dylan knew he’d figure it out.

“Yeah, Nate, we’re just seeing it, too.” Scott’s voice stopped short as he held the phone away from his ear. His eyes cut to Dylan, pleading for help.

Tough shit.

Scott shouldn’t have called Nathaniel McBride. Dylan could handle this situation. He didn’t need his dad getting involved.

So what if he was their business manager? What could Nathaniel do to
Truth Newspaper
or Sid Baker that Dylan couldn’t do?

Dylan would get more satisfaction out of scaring Sid himself. He wanted to punch the man, but Dylan had more respect for his elders. Even if they were sleazy reporters who lied to his face.

“I know, Nate, I know…yes, he’s standing right here.” Scott mouthed something, but Dylan turned away. “Hang on, Nate, I’m trying.”

He could try all he wanted.

“Dylan.” Scott attempted a whisper, but it came out more like a growl.

Dealing with Nathaniel was always fun. Dylan almost felt sorry for Scott.

Almost.

He turned to look at Scott in time to see Scott’s hand cover the bottom of the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Good for him.”

He didn’t have time for his dad’s crap. Not today. Not ever.

“Dude, come on.” Desperation seeped through in Scott’s voice.

“I told you not to call him.”

“I’m sorry. I thought he could help.”

Was he kidding? Nathaniel only thought of himself. Always had, always would. He helped, all right. Helped himself to a cut of Sliders’ profits.

Dylan growled under his breath and tromped over to Scott. He took the phone from his lead guitarist, glaring into his brown eyes. “Let me show you how this is done.”

Scott ran his fingers through his hair as he took a step back. “Be my guest.”

The phone hadn’t reached Dylan’s ear yet, and already he heard his father calling his name. He could understand why Scott was intimidated by Nathaniel. His deep voice used to scare Dylan, too. When he was five.

Years of indifference had cured that fear.

Dylan released a breath as he placed the ear to his phone. “I’ve got a busy day, Dad. We’ll talk later.” He pressed the end button before the screaming commenced. He tossed Scott’s phone back to him and leaned against the counter.

“Man, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Scott said.

“Me, either. You know he’s impossible.”

“Forget about Nate,” Layne said as he picked up the newspaper. “How are you going to handle this?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan replied, glancing past Layne’s finger to the photo. Even a picture of Heaven stirred his heart. “I’ll think of something.”

“Bro, at least they’re not claiming she’s pregnant.” Layne shook with laughter. “How many kids you have now, anyway?”

Dylan dropped his head, shaking it. Could Layne ever be serious?

Scott cleared his throat. “I know I don’t have a right to be pissed off, but thanks for letting me in on all this.”

Seriously? Layne was cracking jokes and Scott was getting defensive? They both needed to stop before he lost it.

“Dude,” Layne said as his hands shot in the air, “you know Dylan doesn’t want everyone to know about his dreams. There was so much going on yesterday, we didn’t have time to tell you.”

Scott’s eyes fell to the newspaper, again. “Well, at least you got the press off Kyle and Chelsea’s tail. But it’s going to be fun trying to get you to the wedding. I bet there’s a mob outside your gate.”

“Then Layne should drive us to the church. He knows how to make the savages eat dust.”

That should get a smile out of Layne.

Sure enough.

“Hey, bitch about my driving all you want. My Mario Andretti skills will come in handy today.”

Dylan finally laughed. He reached into his pocket, digging out his vibrating phone. Glancing down, a voicemail alert popped up. He didn’t read it.

Only three guesses to who had left it.

Scott took the paper from Layne’s hand, folding it up before tossing it onto the table. “You’re sure she’s the girl?”

“Yep,” Dylan answered. He walked over to the door, again. Cracking open the screen door, his eyes went to the willow tree. The breeze blowing through his hair also rustled the dangling branches. Honeysuckle rushed through his nose as he inhaled deeply.

The backyard would never be the same. There would always be a reminder of Heaven. The dreams had been as real as the air burning his lungs.

“So, what are you going to do about her?” Scott asked, breaking the silence that had filled the room.

Dylan looked over his shoulder at his friends. He drew his shoulders up to his ears. “I don’t have a clue. I don’t even know how long she is staying.”

“If he doesn’t ask her, I will,” Layne snickered.

Over his dead body.

“Stay out of it,” Dylan said through gritted teeth. Why did rage pump through his veins when Layne talked about Heaven? He shouldn’t feel threatened by his best friend. It’s not like he and Layne had the same taste in women.

Definitely not.

So, why all the testosterone?

* * *

Layne swiped his hand across his chest before glancing down at it. Was there blood?

No?

The way Dylan’s eyes shot daggers in his direction, there should have been.

What the hell did he say? His best friend had never looked at him like that. Did Dylan actually think he would say something to Heaven?

“You know I’m kidding, right?”

Dylan didn’t respond. He turned to shut the door. As the lock clicked, Layne looked over at Scott. He shrugged.

“Hopefully, they will stick around for a little while after the wedding,” Scott said. His smile blinked like a neon sign. Its message: I’m interested.

“Why is that, Scott? Wanna see if Hope will give you the time of day?”

“Screw you, man. Just ‘cause she isn’t as
outgoing
as Faith, doesn’t mean she isn’t interested. And yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of Hope.”

No shit.

Scott’s brows folded like his arms. “I’m sure you’d like to see more of Faith.”

Yeah, more of Faith with less clothing.

Then, again…

No.

This wasn’t the time to bring up those thoughts.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 10

Heaven gazed at Chelsea’s face through the oval mirror. Sunshine from the nearby window cast a warm glow over her best friend, catching the beading and making it sparkle. But it wasn’t just the rays lighting up the room. Not with the three hundred watt smile staring back at Heaven.