Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (19 page)

By Monday afternoon Trey had wrapped up the last interview and narrowed the fifteen candidates down to a solid three. And just in time. Gabe and the rest of the DeLuca delegation were due back Wednesday afternoon and, if they could agree on the new sales manager by Friday, Trey could begin training next week and be in Italy come March first.

The same exact day Sara would be free to date someone else. Someone who wasn’t the manny, and therefore wouldn’t need to be kept a secret, he thought as Cooper came racing down the hallway, a blue cape flapping behind him.

The kid leapt into the kitchen and struck a pose with his legs in attention and his hands on his hips. “Suited up and ready to go.” He stopped, his smile faltering. “Where’s your costume?”

“I’m wearing it,” Trey said, smiling at his cleverness.

Today was superhero day at Mighty Mites, the one day a month that every kid looked forward to. With Cooper still on suspension, Trey had suggested that they have their own superhero day, which earned him a high five and a hug that, if he was being honest, got him a little choked up.

Cooper was dressed as Batman. Trey, short one costume, and refusing to wear a pair of blue leggings left over from Sara’s dance recital, went with Superman’s alter ego. A good thing since a shopping run was in order. They needed eggs and cupcake mix for the bake sale tomorrow at Cooper’s school.

Trey straightened his tie, channeled Superman, and said, “I’m Clark Kent.”

Cooper took in Trey’s suit and frowned. “But he’s not a superhero.”

“Sure he is.” He grabbed his car keys off the counter and pocketed the short grocery list he’d made while Cooper had been getting his superhero on.

“He’s the paperboy.” Cooper swayed back and forth on his feet, taking his sweet time to inspect Trey’s costume. “Which would be fine if you have a bicycle. Do you have a bike?”

“I have a car. A fast car. With a sun roof.”

“Well, that’s not a bike, now is it?”

And wasn’t that just his life. Always right skill set, wrong party. Hell, a mini-man in spandex and plastic boots was taking pity on him because he couldn’t tell the difference between two wheels and four.

“Nope, it’s not,” Trey said scuffing his way to the door. “But Clark Kent has a job, which means he makes money. Lots of it. Enough to buy cupcakes.”

“Uh-huh.” Cooper didn’t believe a word Trey was spewing. But he wanted cupcakes so he wisely followed Trey out to the car.

By the time they reached the baking aisle at Pickers Produce, Meats, and More, Trey realized that he should have ordered a dozen cupcakes from Lexi.

Who knew there were so many choices in cupcake land?

“Can we get these?” Cooper asked, waving two packages of candy Batman decorations. “We can make the icing blue like Mommy does and then put these on top.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Trey dropped two boxes of cake mix into the basket, and then dropped in two more. Because Clark Kent was also the brains of the operation and, like any good superhero, was always prepared, he added four tubs of icing: two chocolate and two vanilla. “Now we need eggs.”

“And popcorn?” Cooper asked, beaming up at him. “For the movie? Mommy always pops popcorn. With extra butter on it.”

Cooper’s stomachache caused him to miss the movie part of Roman’s campout. With Sara working until eight and Trey wanting to make Coop’s night a little special, he promised him their own campout and screening of
Cars
. After they accomplished a decent batch of cupcakes.

“Sure,” Trey said, heading toward the chip and snack aisle.

“This is going to be the best movie night ever.” Coop tossed the candy Batman symbols into the basket and slid his smaller hand into Trey’s.

“What are you doing?”

Coop kept walking. “Holding your hand.”

“We’re just walking to the snack aisle, it’s only right here,” Trey pointed out because the kid’s hand was warm and sticky and—Trey bent down to sniff—smelled like glue. “Not like we’re crossing the street or anything.”

Coop looked up at Trey as though they were back to the two-wheels-versus-four conversation. “Sometimes it’s just better to hold hands.”

So Trey held Coop’s hand, smiling as he led him down the aisle toward the back of the store, his plastic boots clomping against the floor and sounding like a storm trooper sweeping the area. When Trey saw the selection of snacks, he knew that popcorn wasn’t going to cut it. Not if tonight was going to be the Best Movie Night Ever.

Between the two of them, they loaded up the basket with a variety of chips and three different dips, and they added a box of graham crackers and some kind of chewy-fruity snacks that Trey would bet his fast car with a sunroof didn’t contain a single drop of fruit. Rounding the girlie-aisle, Trey spotted the coconut-scented lotion Sara liked so much and, remembering that she was almost out, dropped it into the cart.

At the produce aisle Cooper picked up a banana. Trey had no idea what it was for, but the way Coop held it to his chest instead of dropping it in the basket said that it was important. Which was why, since the kid was practically strangling it, Trey grabbed another one—just in case.

“Matt,” Cooper said, jumping up and down and pointing to a three-foot-tall boy who stood at the meat counter dressed in all green, looking more like a miniature Jolly Green Giant than the Green Lantern. Then again, Trey was in a suit trying to pass as Superman.

Trying
being the operative word, Trey thought ruefully, taking in the six-foot-three behemoth of a man standing next to Matt and holding a full rack of ribs. Dressed in a costume that was all kinds of badass, complete with a flowing cape and enough rippling abs and bulging biceps to intimidate even the real Superman, Roman was ready to save the world and get the girl.

Trey looked down at his loafers and admitted that he should have worn the blue tights. At least he wouldn’t have looked like he was ready to push papers and audit someone into boredom.

“Hey fellas,” Roman said, guy-next-door charm in place. “Good to see you, Batman.”

Cooper beamed.

Roman took a dramatic step back and shook his head in mock surprise. “I mean, Cooper. Wow, for a minute there I thought…” Again with the head shake. Coop ate it up…and dropped Trey’s hand. “You look just like him. Spitting image.”

“Thanks, Superman,” Coop said with hero worship in his eyes.

“Who’s your buddy? No wait, let me guess.” Roman sent Trey a sly wink, as though he didn’t know to play along. “007.”

An international spy was way more impressive than a paperboy. He drove fast cars. And
always
got the girl. Why hadn’t Trey thought of that?

“Oh, wait, James Bond isn’t a superhero.” Right, because of that. Not to mention Bond never stuck with the same girl. “I know, Commissioner Gordon?”

Giggling, Cooper shook his head. “Nope, this is Clark Kent. Paperboy. Only he doesn’t got a bike.”

“Not paperboy. He works at the paper,” Trey said.

Cooper shrugged.

There Trey stood, paperboy extraordinaire with coconut-scented lotion and cupcake mix, looking up at a guy who drove a big, red fire engine with a siren and had enough steak and ribs in his cart to impress an army of real superheroes.

Trey sighed. Roman was also the kind of guy to impress the girls because he had stable, selfless, and husband-material sewn into the back of his cape. Oh, and he was only looking for one girl.

“Good to see you, Clark Kent,” Roman said, shaking Trey’s hand. “Making cupcakes?”

“For the bake sale tomorrow,” Trey said, feeling like Manny of the Year.

Roman leaned in, as though imparting a great and ancient wisdom. “If you add a little pudding mix to the batter they’ll come out extra moist.”

“Yeah, it’s already on the list,” Trey said, wondering if he meant dry pudding or the already-prepared kind in the cups. Then made a mental list to buy both.

“We’re having a movie night,” Coop volunteered, slipping his hand back in Trey’s in a sign of little buddy support. “With popcorn and candy. In a fort!”

“Sounds great.” Roman looked at Trey, and he really meant it. Proving that the guy was also selfless. “Matt and I were going to practice knots Saturday, to prepare for the merit-badge test. If you want, you and your mom are more than welcome to join us after she closes up the studio.”

Selfless but interested in Sara.

The guy was politely throwing his hat into the ring, and suddenly being Sara’s secret didn’t feel all that great. He wanted to say that Sara was already wearing his hat, that in fact she had put it on the other night in his suite and it wasn’t coming off—well, not until March, which even sounded lame in his head.

So Trey kept his mouth shut, even resisted the urge to remind everyone that
he
was the reigning knot champion in town and, if anything, Roman could learn a few things from him.

“Can we have a sleepover after?” Matt asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Roman said, smiling at Trey. “I’ll talk with Sara about it.”

Matt’s face went wide with excitement and he started jumping up and down chanting “Sleepover!” Roman’s grin said he was chanting the same thing.

Coop, however, looked about as excited over the dual family sleepover as Trey did. “I don’t know if I’ll get my merit badge at camp cuz the application is still on the fridge and Mom keeps saying, ‘We’ll see.’”

Which Trey knew meant “no.” He also knew that Sara was doing everything she could so that her son wouldn’t have to miss out, but in the end, the result would be the same. There was no way she could take off three days to go camping with Coop, not with Heather being gone.

“Tell your mom I can hold off for another day or two,” Roman offered.

Coop just shook his head, his plastic boots scuffing at the floor. “That’s okay. I didn’t really want to go.”

Trey almost asked him if he felt his nose growing, because he may have only been sitting Coop for a week, but the kid only ever talked about three things: cars, superheroes, and the Mighty Mites campout. The trembling of his lower lip had Trey tugging him a little closer.

“You sure, buddy? It’s the big race,” Trey said quietly and Cooper nodded.

“Hunter said that because he don’t got a daddy, his mom would take him,” Matt informed the group. Trey’s jaw clenched to keep from saying something that would get him—and most likely Cooper—in trouble. “And then he’d have to sleep with the Lady Bugs, cuz it’s no girls allowed.”

“When did he tell you that?” Roman asked.

“At movie night,” Coop whispered, which explained the stom
achache and early phone call.

Trey couldn’t help it. He set the basket on the ground and squatted down, getting eye-level and taking Coop by the shoulders, like he’d seen Gabe do with Holly a million times.

Coop looked up and what Trey saw in his eyes reached out and pulled him in. All the way in. Any plans he had of keeping it fun, simple, of not getting involved, vanished. He knew—just
knew
—what that look meant. And it brought back every messed-up emotion and insecurity he had, reminding him of how hard growing up without a dad around could be on a boy.

At least he had his brothers to show him how to rebuild a carburetor or round second base. And there was always someone to partner him in the annual father-son baseball game or help him out with guy stuff. But Cooper had no one.

“You won’t have to sleep with the Lady Bugs. Hunter was just being an as—” Roman coughed and Trey wisely changed direction. “You worked hard on your car and deserve to race.”

“He’s right. You earned your place, Cooper.” Roman looked down at Cooper, who was starting to sniffle, and gave a nod. “I was going to talk to you about this on Friday, but you went home before I could mention that if your mom can’t make it to the campout, Matt and I were thinking it would be cool if you wanted to sleep in our tent. You know, hang with us for the entire weekend. Be part of Team Blaze.”

Coop’s eyes went big with awe. “Really?”

“You bet. Would you like that?”

“That would be,” Coop looked at Trey and back to Roman, “awesome.”

Trey resisted the urge to point out that
awesome
was their word. And saying it with the enemy went against every law known to man. It was almost like going to the big game with someone who’s rooting for the other team. It just wasn’t done.

But Roman was offering a solution that made everyone happy. Well, everyone except Trey, which made no sense at all. The last place he’d want to spend one of his last weekends in St. Helena was with a bunch of grimy kids in the middle of a field. Not when he could be at home, with a very naked Sara, having a campout of their own, with him demonstrating his knot skills with a scarf and the bedpost.

“Actually,” Trey said, wondering what the hell he was doing, “if Sara couldn’t get the time off of work, I was going to take Cooper.”

CHAPTER 13

Y
ou promised him what?” Sara asked, doing her best to keep her voice down. She didn’t want to wake Cooper and she didn’t want to ruin her good mood.

After a fabulous rehearsal, Sara arrived to find Cooper clean and ready for bed with a cape over his race-car pajamas. He was also huddled under a makeshift fort, hugging a bowl of popcorn, and snoring. The sight of her little guy, smiling and content, melted her heart.

The sight of the sexy guy next to him melted something else altogether. Trey had ditched the suit for a pair of green jogging shorts that hung dangerously low on his hips, a fitted black T-shirt, and a yellow cape. His hair was sticking up in the back, he had popcorn stuck to his chest, and when he sent her a sleepy smile, Sara almost forgave him for making a promise to her son that he had no right to make. Because he had turned what could have been a disappointing day for Cooper into an evening her son would never forget.

“You sound upset,” Trey said from inside the fort and Cooper fussed a little in his sleep. “Are you upset?”

“No. I’m not—” Sara broke off because, one, she was upset. Mad that Trey had offered to take Cooper to the Mighty Mites campout without bothering to consult her. And two, her voice caused Cooper to flop over on his side, sending popcorn all over the carpet.

Trey put a finger to his mouth, then shimmied out of the fort—backward. And what a view—yup, squeeze-a-licious. It was hard to stay mad at a guy with a flowing yellow tablecloth for a cape and an epic case of bed head. But Sara tried her best.

“In here.” He laced their fingers, which felt way too good, and led her to the kitchen, which was an even bigger disaster than the front room. Dirty dishes lined the sink, batter was stuck to the ceiling, and—Sara lifted her shoe—there was a thin dusting of a suspicious white powder all over the floor.

“Flour?”

“Powdered sugar.” Trey pointed to a tray on the table holding two-dozen beautiful Batman cupcakes. “Cooper asked if he could make the cupcakes ‘winter’ when I got a phone call. I came back and realized what he meant. I’ll clean it up before I go.”

But Sara was too busy admiring the cupcakes to answer. They were amazing. Like DC Comics hired Martha Stewart to come up with the perfect Batman cupcake. There were twelve Batmans and twelve Robins, but no dusting of snow. “Did you have to make a new batch?”

“Four batches, actually,” Trey admitted. “Then I gave up and called Lexi. She dropped these off about an hour ago.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, turning around to face him.

“It was either that or run the risk of burning the kitchen down.” He walked toward her, stopping so close she had to look up at him.

“I’m sorry I made you mad,” he whispered. “That wasn’t my goal.”

“I know. And I’m not—”

“Mad?” He ran his hands down her arms and laced their fingers and gave a little squeeze. “Yeah, you are.”

She squeezed back. “I just wish you would have talked to me first, because I could have told you that Cooper hasn’t slept a single night away from home, so starting with two doesn’t seem smart.”

“You’re right,” he said carefully. “I should have. And maybe we can have a trial run. I can have him sleep over at my place or we could set up the tent in the backyard.”

“I don’t know.” Trey looked at her like she was some psycho helicopter mom who never let her kid out of her sight.

“We can give it a try,” he said all reasonable, which made her want to hit him. “Look, Coop really wants to go and show off his car and get his merit badge and do guy stuff with his buddies. I know that you can’t take that much time off. So when Roman said that he could share his tent and I—”

“Please tell me you didn’t do this because you think I’m interested in Roman.”

“No.”

She raised a brow.

“Okay, maybe a little. Roman was wearing a Superman costume and carting around slabs of beef and I was all ‘Clark Kent
is
a superhero and look at my lotion.’” He smiled. She did not. But it was hard. “Mostly, though, I did it because Cooper would have had fun with Roman and his kid playing campout. Until he figured out that he was the add-on. The kid who didn’t have a dad. I’ve been there, Sara, and it sucks. I didn’t want that for him.”

Neither did Sara. And it was really hard to stay mad at Trey when he looked so upset and was only trying to save her son from disappointment. But his plan had the potential for complete heartbreak if they weren’t careful.

“Did he tell you that he came home sick Friday because that asshat Hunter was giving him a hard time for not having a dad?”

“No,” Sara breathed through the pinch in her chest. “I just don’t know if your taking him is the best solution.”

Trey studied her for a long moment. “So you’d rather him not go, than to go with me?”

His voice nearly broke her heart. Trey was a great guy, who was trying to make a little boy’s dream of going to camp a reality. But what he saw as merely a few days of fun Cooper would see as a new best friend.

“No.” Sara wrapped her arms around his middle and looked up so that he could see the truth in her eyes. “I trust you, Trey. You are great with him and I know that you’d be Cooper’s first pick. With you, I know that he would be safe and have fun. Too much fun.”

“This is where you deliver the ‘but’ clause,” Trey said and Sara wondered how many times he’d been told he wasn’t the right guy for the job. In this case, he was the perfect guy for the job, only he wasn’t applying.

“You’re offering a temporary buddy, when he’s looking for a daddy. There is nothing about that situation that could end well.”

Trey gave a single nod, but it was full of disappointment. At her or himself, she couldn’t tell, but either way, it didn’t make sense. He was the one who made it more than clear that he wasn’t a long-term bet.

“I don’t want him to miss out on going, Trey.” He had worked hard. And deserved to go. “But I also don’t want him to lose out when March rolls around and you leave. He wouldn’t understand.”

Sara barely understood. She was already a mix of intense emotions after just one night, she could only imagine what Cooper would feel after a fun-filled guys’ weekend away where everyone was palling around with their dads. Cooper was smart, he’d make the connection. And when he did…Sara didn’t want to go there. The mere idea hurt her heart.

“I don’t want to confuse him,” Trey said, pulling her against him and resting his cheek on the crown of her head.

“And I don’t want to have to tell him he can’t go,” she whispered into his chest, loving the way he glided his hands up and down her spine.

“Then don’t.” He pulled back and the look he sent her spoke to every womanly part of her body. “Let me have a talk with him. Explain that I’m moving to Italy and this is just a couple of guys hanging out, racing cars, and building fires.”

“Fire and racing are not two words that make a mom feel all warm and cozy. And,” she paused taking a brave breath, “what if something goes wrong and I’m not there?”

Because that was what happened to her. People left and never came back. Her father had craved freedom, Garrett adventure, and her grandmother peace in her old age. All of them had their reasons, but the result was the same—Sara had lost another person she loved. She would give anything to go back and tell them that she loved them, beg them not to leave her.

Sara knew that she was overprotective of Cooper, but life had taught her to hold tight to what she loved. Because once they were gone—it was forever.

Trey stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing, the fierceness in his expression radiating through her entire being and cracking open something inside of her.

He got it. Trey understood the pain of loss, it was there hanging heavy in his eyes. He might be a runner, Sara thought, but he ran for a reason. It was the same reason she clung so tightly to her world.

Fear.

“It’s two days, Sara,” he reasoned.

“A lot can happen in two days.”

“Not with me there,” he whispered. Against her lips. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”

“As long as you promise me he won’t be crushed,” she whispered back, praying he was true to his word that he wouldn’t disappoint her.

He nodded and since their lips were right there, a breath apart, he kissed her. Soft, and reassuring, and everything she needed in that moment.

Sara allowed herself to float for just a moment before pulling back. “No blurring the lines, remember?”

“Lines,” he repeated. Against her throat, her neck, and lower. “Where is that line again? Nothing below the waist, right?”

“Wrong rule,” she breathed, loving how he could make her let go of the stress from the day, the bad memories that always seemed to linger, and enjoy the moment.

“That’s your problem. Too many rules.” Trey covered her mouth with his completely. This time his lips were hot and hungry and—

“Mmmmm. You taste like frosting.”

He was laughing when he pulled back. “Cooper’s specialty.”

“Graham crackers with frosting?”

“And bananas. You didn’t get a good enough taste, come here.” He went for her mouth but she smacked his chest and pushed back.

“Here is the line.” She drew an imaginary line around her body. “No crossing it. Not with Cooper down the hall.”

“That was a box, not a line. And you said we had to be creative.” He took a step forward, caging her between the counter and his body. “Sex in a man-made snowstorm counts as creative if you ask me. We could even lie down and make naked snow angels.” He trailed a finger between her breasts. “You go first.”

Sara warmed. He was even charming when he argued. “How about you help me clean up the snow? Then tomorrow at ten fifteen I come to your hotel room and we get creative. In that bed. I have a forty-five-minute break between classes.”

“No good,” he said. His finger grazed over her nipple, “Five minutes to change your shoes,” down to her stomach, “another five to lock up,” around her belly button, “and five to get to my suite. And another ten to get you back.” His hand stopped right at the hem of her dance skirt and his gaze met hers. “That only gives me twenty minutes to be creative, and sweetheart, I need every second for what I’m planning.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked, not sure if she could wait much past tomorrow to kiss him again.

“I’ll come to you,” he said. “And we can mark that pole off my bucket list.”

The sun was actually shining when Sara pulled into her driveway. Because of a last-minute Garden Society meeting, most of her senior ladies had called to say that they wouldn’t make the Waltz and Rumba Infusion class—leaving only Stan and Harvey. When both refused to partner the other, Sara called it a night.

Grabbing the pizza from the passenger seat, she went in the house excited to surprise her guys. Only when she reached the kitchen and looked out in the backyard, she was the one who found herself staring in awe.

Heart in her throat, Sara crept out on the back porch, careful to stay beneath the shade of the overhang so as not to interrupt the male bonding that was transpiring on the lawn below. Trey and Cooper stood over what appeared to be every bit of Garrett’s old camping gear, and some she didn’t recognize, cataloguing it.

Both were dressed in well-worn jeans, ball caps, and matching camo T-shirts. Only Trey’s shirt was dangling from his back pocket. He must have been at this for quite a while because even in the chilly winter air, his skin was slick with heat, which made her slick and hot. And when he picked up a tattered looking tent and began unrolling it on the flattest part of the lawn, muscles that Sara had explored just yesterday during their pole-dancing lesson bunched and flexed as he moved, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“Can you see if there’s a mallet over there?” Trey asked, dumping out the contents of the tent bag. Six metal stakes, a bundle of rope, and some kind of supports fell to the grass.

“There’s a metal one and a rubber one,” Cooper said, his head stuck in a giant metal tool box. Garrett’s toolbox.

“The metal one’s a hammer, the rubber one’s a mallet,” Trey explained. “Both will work, but the mallet will sting less. Take your pick and bring it over so we can drive the stake into the ground.”

Cooper looked back and forth as though this were a trick question, which would ruin their fun day if he got it wrong. Biting his lip, he settled on the mallet, then ran over to Trey, dragging the tool the entire way.

“Good choice.” Cooper beamed at the praise. “And if you ever find yourself out in the middle of nowhere and forgot your tools, you know what you do?”

Smile gone, concentration face on, Cooper shook his head.

“You grab a big rock.”

“You want me to grab a big rock?” Cooper asked, already scouting the backyard for the perfect rock.

“Let’s use the mallet first.”

He must lift all of those cases of wine he sells
, Sara thought as Trey grabbed a stake and muscled it into the ground. Then he turned to Cooper and, instead of taking the tool and getting the job done quickly, Trey patiently explained how to properly hold the mallet and even steadied the stake while Cooper took a few swings—not a single one made contact.