Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (21 page)

“Good morning,” the nurse said, flashing them a sunny smile. “I hope you had a chance to review the information that the doctor sent home with you last visit.”

“I did.” Lexi pulled out a stack of pamphlets and her list of questions. “I was excited to talk about the benefits of breastfeeding over formula, and what kind of pump I should put on my registry. I brought my brother-in-law here to take detailed notes.”

Sara hung up the last of the silver-flocked tutus and felt herself breathe a little easier. Everything was falling into place. A new order of snowflake costumes had arrived that morning, right sizes, right number, and right in time for their dress rehearsal this afternoon. Then, tomorrow all forty-seven—forty-seven!—of her dancers would meet at the St. Helena Community Park for a final run-through to get acquainted with the stage and mark their positions.

On the home front, Cooper had mastered the square knot and, with Trey’s help, was well on his way to earning his merit badge. She was still uneasy about him going away for two whole nights without her, especially with Hunter being their elected hive captain, but after Trey sat him down and explained that he was moving to Italy, how could she say no? Especially when Cooper was more excited about Trey living in the birth country of the Ferrari than he was upset about him moving.

Sara was upset about him moving. The Ferrari just didn’t do it for her. She went into this knowing that he was going to leave, but even having the advance warning to prepare wasn’t going to help. Nope, Sara thought as she slid on her fishnets, she liked him way too much for that.

She’d just walked behind the counter and slipped on her tango shoes when the bell on the door jingled and in burst Trey. His hair was windblown, his clothes wrinkled, and he was breathing heavy. The way he normally looked
after
their meeting. He was also holding a pink box with a little white string, which could only have come from the Sweet and Savory, and spoke right to her heart.

“Hey,” he gasped, resting against the door and leaning his head back to take in deep breaths. “Sorry I’m late. Lexi. Pumps.” With his free hand, he made a billowing gesture in the general direction of his chest. “So many choices. Ran late.”

Sara looked at the clock. One minute until ten. Maybe that “like” problem went both ways. Or he was overly excited about their tango lesson.

“Actually, you’re right on time. And what happened to coming in through the back door?” she asked, stepping out from behind the counter, the click of her slinky heels echoing off the hardwood floor.

“Because I came here to ask you a question. One that is deserving of a front door entrance and—
Jesus
.” Trey looked up and went still. His eyes riveted on her body.

As long as they got to the naked portion of the visit, and soon, she was fine with a little staring. She liked the put-together, business Trey, but him in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that showed off his incredible pecs? And abs? And that flat stomach that rippled under her hands when she—

“A question,” his voice was thick and husky, “that if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll never get to.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I know I just saw you last night, but—”

“Yeah, me too.” He pushed off the door and met Sara in the middle of the dance floor. “And we’ll get there.”

“When?”

“Soon.” He slid one hand down her waist to her bottom—then lower, past the hem of her skirt until he reached the top of her stockings. She moaned at the sensation of his fingers tracing the edge where fishnet met bare skin. Moaned even louder when he stopped. “I want to do this right.”

“You were doing it right,” she protested.

“I want to give you these and I can’t until you say yes.”

Eyes on Sara, he slowly untied the string and opened the box. Instead of a cake or pastry, he pulled out a bouquet that—best day ever—was made entirely of mini-cupcakes. Chocolate ones, red velvet ones, even lemon drop ones, all frosted to resemble different kinds of flowers and each attached to sticks wrapped with shiny green ribbon that were bound in a cluster. The result was beautiful and mouthwatering.

“So I only get the cupcakes if I say yes?” She put a hand on his chest and leaned in to get a better view of the selection. So what if her hands wandered a little? Cupcakes and Trey in the same room made her body hum and her hands daring. “I have a better idea. You ask me your question, then we do a little swap. A bite of yours for a bite of mine?”

At her offer, his eyes lit with wicked intent as he enjoyed a leisurely once over, taking the time to appreciate every inch of her costume. Spending twice the amount of time on the inches that weren’t her costume.

Then his gaze met hers and everything shifted. His stance, his body language, even the way he held the bouquet.

“I’m not here to ask you to the Valentine’s Gala,” he began and Sara’s heart nearly exploded right out of her chest. “Because that would be a date.”

“And it would violate the ‘just friends in public’ rule.” It would also put her in intimate proximity to a man who she was halfway in love with, on her wedding anniversary.

“So many rules,” he murmured, his finger back to work on the hem of her fishnets, reminding her of just how many rules they’d broken yesterday during their pole-dancing lesson. And then last night in the tent. How many rules they were going to break in just a few minutes.

Could she break one more?

“I figured since you will be there and, small world, so will I, what’s the harm of a stolen tango or two between friends?” His fingers turned soft and his eyes went serious. “And maybe, I could take you home when it’s over and kiss you at the front door and try to charm my way in for a nightcap.”

Trey swallowed, then shifted on his feet and Sara wondered if he had ever asked a woman out—not back to his hotel room, but out on a date that was about more than sex.

“That is, if you’re not too busy for a non-date.”

Suddenly, the idea of staying at home, eating ice cream alone in her bed after spending an evening surrounded by love and romance made her want to cry. She didn’t want to spend another Valentine’s Day alone. She wanted to spend it with Trey.

“I want to say yes.”

“Then say yes.”

“But—”

Trey held up a silencing finger. He placed the cupcakes in the box, put the box on the floor, and his hands were immediately on her butt. He hauled her up against him and the intimate contact scrambled her brain and melted her limbs.

“Let’s get back to the you saying yes part,” he whispered, his hands sliding up her back to pull her into the most improper dance position known to man, then he started swaying gently.

They stared at each other before she wrapped her arm around his neck and molded her body to his as he glided her across the room. They fit perfectly, his thighs pressing into hers, his hand low on her back, leading her so that they moved together as one. He felt so secure, so sure of himself, so incredibly right, Sara was afraid she’d follow him anywhere.

“You can’t stay the night,” she whispered, already giving in, wondering how they could make this work. “Cooper wakes up at an ungodly hour.”

“I have an idea.”

Sara felt herself tense. Last time he had an idea she ended up agreeing to let her son go to overnight camp without her.

“I talked to Lexi today. She said she’d already talked to you too. She and Marc are doing a mock campout for Holly and they offered to take Cooper for the night. I told her I’d have to talk to you.”

She looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile. He’d listened to what she’d said and was trying to abide by her wishes.

“What if he gets scared and wants to come home?” she asked, because that was what she was afraid would happen.

“We can stay at my suite, right across the hall. It is a two second walk to get him.” Trey stopped and dipped her, the move both unexpected and thrilling. His lips were a mere breath from hers. “If not, we get him after breakfast.”

A whole night with Trey. No watching the clock. No sneaking in kisses between bath time. No more wondering what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms. To wake up beside him.

“You’ve thought of everything,” she said when he pulled her back up and into his arms. “This could really work.”

The only thing left to do was decide if she wanted this to happen. She’d asked for adventure and he was offering her one. All she had to do was remember that this little make-believe romance she agreed to was nearly over. And that if she wanted to truly experience all that he was offering, it was now or never.

“I took care of everything because I
want
this to work, Sara. I want this to work with you.”

Suddenly, any hopes she held of not falling in love with him vanished with that one statement. One night or a hundred, it didn’t matter. She wanted this to work more than anything, and the idea of never was something that Sara couldn’t stomach.

CHAPTER 15

T
rey slid into a vacant seat just as the last Snowflake Princess took the stage. He was supposed to be in the holding area behind the rose-covered arbor, waiting to escort ChiChi onto the floor when the MC introduced the seven finalists for Best Winter Garden in Show, but this was the last performance of the evening, and the one he’d been waiting on all night. He couldn’t miss it.

“Is that her?” Marc asked, squinting up at the stage and pointing.

“Nope,” Nate whispered, grabbing Marc’s finger and repositioning it to the opposite side of the stage. “Second row, last one on the left. There, the one in the sparkly slippers and little crown.”

“They’re all wearing sparkly slippers,” Trey said, knocking their hands down. Holly would be horrified if she saw her uncles singling her out. “And it’s called a tiara.”

“They do this every time,” Gabe complained while using the zoom on his phone’s camera to look for his daughter. “It’s like some sick joke they play to mess with us. The moms stand backstage doing final touches to the hair or whatever, leaving the dads in charge of recording the performance, but they dress them all the same so that we can’t tell whose kid is whose.”

The music started and all five rows of girls took three dramatic steps forward and, arms out to their sides and right toes pointed toward the audience, struck a ballerina pose. A hush fell over the room and everyone went silent—well, everyone except Gabe, who was mumbling under his breath, the camera scanning the formation frantically.

“Regan’s going to kill me,” he hissed.

Trey zeroed in on the front row, just right of center stage and sent a wink.
A small smile snuck past Holly’s lips before she went back to poised and professional. There might have been twenty-five girls in matching silver tutus, ice-crystal tiaras, and sparkly dance slippers, but Trey knew exactly which one was Holly. “She’s front and center.”

Gabe set him a disbelieving look, then zoomed in. “How did you know?”

“It’s her posture,” Trey leaned over and whispered, wondering how they could
not
know. Holly spent the past two weeks twirling around the house with a shower rod taped to her arms, extending her neck like a giraffe. Her goal: master the art of looking bigger than you are.

She’d nailed it.

When all three brothers turned to look at him, he explained, “She’s the smallest one in her class, so she’s been working hard on elongating her lines to move in sync with the taller girls.” Trey had also been helping her clean up her point. No one wanted sloppy feet. “Which is why they all look the same, to blend in. Not to stand out and draw attention. So stop gawking or you’ll embarrass her.”

Ignoring the crazy-ass stares his brothers were shooting his way, Trey sat back and focused on his niece. Tongue peeking out the side of her mouth, she gave a few quick taps of the foot and they were off, arms waving, feet gliding across the stage, and not a single girl was in sync. It was beautiful.

Then the music swelled and at the precise moment that Holly did a little leap, metallic flakes fell from the ceiling, drifting down over the girls like a light dusting of snow. And Trey knew it was almost time for the big finish.

“It’s the twirly part,” Gabe said, jabbing Trey in the ribs as though Trey didn’t already know about the twirl situation. Hell, he’d been living that nightmare ever since Sara put it in the routine. “She said she was nervous about a bunch of twirls on one leg. Does she look nervous to you?”

“One leg?” Nate asked. “Why would she only let them use one leg when two would be safer? Is that like some kind of handicap for dance?”

“I don’t know,” Marc said, eyes fixed to the stage. He was leaning so far forward he was practically kissing the seat in front of him. “Don’t tell Lexi I know, but we’re having a girl, and I swear to God, if this is what it’s like, I think I’m going to be sick.”

So was Trey. Fists clenched, pulse pounding, it was like the final pass in a game of sudden death. He knew how hard she’d worked, knew how much she wanted this to go perfectly, knew that regardless of what happened, he would be damn proud, but when Holly dug her toe in the floor—no sickled feet there—and pushed off to begin her twirls, Trey’s lungs just stopped working.

One…Two…Three…And
—

Trey was on his feet clapping, a warm feeling of pride bubbling up and taking him by surprise. At the audition, Holly couldn’t even land one of those turns, and she’d just nailed four—with him acting as stand-in dad. And okay, there was a little wobble on the last twirl but she also knocked elbows with Lauren—who needed to work on pointing her toes.

“She was amazing,” Gabe said beside him. “She was the best one up there. Did you see?”

Small but mighty,
Trey thought, wondering if this was what it felt like to be a proud papa. Not that Holly was his, but for the last two weeks she had been. And in that short amount of time, she’d grown so much.

“You might want to keep your comments to yourself,” Nate whispered. “Since everyone around us thinks that their kid was the best.”

Gabe shrugged, still clapping. “I can’t help it if they’re wrong.”

Trey felt a warm hand rest on his arm and he turned to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Tonight, her hair was pulled back into a loose bundle of curls at the base of her neck with little white flowers securing wisps of soft waves that framed her face.

From the front, her dress appeared simple and elegant. A pale-pink fabric draped from her shoulders to her collarbone, hugging her body all the way down to pool at the floor. She looked like a starlet from the forties. But when she turned around, things got interesting. The back was pretty much nonexistent, except for a single strip of pearls that pulled across her shoulder blades, holding the dress together, with another string cascading down to the lowest tip of her back, leaving everything between bare.

“She really did rock the tiara,” Sara said, and it took everything Trey had to not bend down and kiss her. Right there. In front of his brothers and Roman, who, he was certain, was lurking around.

He looked at her lips, glossy and lush, and wondered what she’d do if he did kiss her. Then he wondered if she was able to wear panties with that dress. Then he stopped wondering all together because his pants were getting a little too crowded to pull off discreet.

“Is that your professional opinion?” Gabe asked and the man was serious.

Sara tempered her smile, but Trey could see the amusement bubbling up in her eyes. “It is.”

After a round of gentlemanly “hellos” and compliments on a job well done, she turned the full force of that smile on him and discreet went out the window.

“ChiChi is starting to show her teeth.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “She has it in her head that since she told you to wait by the arbor and you aren’t by the arbor that there was foul play involved. She has Deidra cornered in the ladies’ room and I’m afraid that waterboarding may come into play.”

“Well then, I guess you’d better take me to her,” Trey said, picking up a little white box from beneath his chair and offering her his arm, in the most friendly and non-date-like way imaginable.

He wove them through the sea of candlelit tables, past the arbor, and into the cool night. Once they were out under the stars, he took her by the hand and led her away from the lights of the tent which covered most of the community park.

“Your grandma is over that way,” Sara said, jerking her head back toward the tent, but he noticed that she didn’t pull away from him.

“Which is why we’re going this way.”

She glanced down at their intertwined hands, which were swinging idly between them. “I never took you for a hand-holder.”

He shrugged and glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye. “Sometimes it’s better to hold hands. As for our destination, I want to go anywhere isolated enough so that I can look my fill of you in that dress without worrying about getting caught.”

Actually he was heading toward the community rose garden and pond. Located on the back side of the park, it was always decorated with tea lights and floating candles. It was romantic, quiet, and the perfect place to tell her how proud he was of her.

And give her a little gift.

He’d spent all night watching her flit around the ballroom, now he just wanted one selfish moment to have all of her attention before the dancing began.

“I agree. Holding hands is better.” She laced her fingers tighter and moved a whole lot closer.
Thank you, Coop.
“Although, I was hoping you were taking me someplace to make out.”

“That’s for later. After I kiss you good night at the door and then charm my way into your bed. Remember?”

“You might want to bring a coat so you don’t get cold waiting outside for an invite.” That didn’t sound promising. “Since I’ll be in your room. In your bed.”

“Right. Then you better get started with all the sweet talk and compliments because I can tell you right now I don’t just let anyone charm their way into my bed. I’m very particular. And I have lots of rules,” Trey said in his best “Sara” tone.

“I like rules.” Yes she did. Almost as much as she liked breaking them. “And how about your pants.” She stopped on a bed of rose petals that covered the pathway to the pond. “Are those charmable?”

He had a witty response, one that would guarantee him a smoking-hot night with his smoking-hot girl, but she looked up at him and everything inside him went still. His thoughts, his heart, even the earth seemed to stop spinning. The little flowers, which were tucked in her hair, sparkled under the soft glow of the floating candles while the moon spilled across her face, illuminating those eyes that saw right through him and turning her dress a shimmery white.

She looked beautiful. And like the woman he could spend the rest of his life loving.

“I brought you something,” he said, looking down at the box in his hand, suddenly unsure. But he’d already opened his mouth, she was staring at the box, and it was too late to turn back. So he handed it to her and felt his ears go hot when she pulled out the corsage.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, offering him her wrist. He slid the corsage on, bumbling a little like he was back in high school and this was the prom. But she didn’t seem to notice; she was too busy fussing over the flowers. “Are you pinning me, Trey?”

“I know we’re a little old for corsages,” he began. “But it’s tradition.”

“A woman is never too old for corsages.”

Same thing Frankie had said when he’d picked it out. She also told him that he should think about the meaning behind the flower, because women get off on that kind of thing. Her words, not his.

“I know it’s Valentine’s Day and that you can’t be my Valentine.” He looked over the top of her head at the soft glow of the tent. “At least not here. But I wanted to get you something that let you know how proud I am of you. You made every girl in there, including my niece, feel like a princess.”

She tilted her head and he could see the moisture in her eyes glisten. “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Yes, you could have. Because you’re that strong, Sara. And I admire that. I admire you.” He cupped her cheek. “Which is why I was hoping you’d wear my flowers. The yellow ones around the outside are alstroemerias. They stand for friendship.”

“Friendship?”

“Yeah.” But when Sara’s brow furrowed in confusion—and maybe disappointment—he quickly added, “The only thing I can think of that would be better than stripping you out of this dress is spending Valentine’s Day dancing and laughing with my friend.”

“And the big white one in the middle?” she asked, tracing the edge of a petal, not letting him off that easy.

“That is an aster and it symbolizes patience.”

“You’ve been very patient,” she whispered, this time tracing the edge of his lapel and he wondered if she could feel his heart trying to hammer itself right out of his chest. God, he was nervous.

If that right there wasn’t terrifying proof about just how far gone he was, his next words sealed his fate. “I have, but that’s not why I picked it. According to legend it’s an enchanted flower.”

“Enchanted?”

“Like its owner.” He laced their fingers and kissed the palm of her hand. “I’ve never been enchanted before, but you, Sara Reed, everything about you has me mesmerized.”

She threaded her free arm around his neck and brushed her mouth over his. The simple contact was enough to make everything start spinning again.

“You’re the best friend I’ve made since moving here, Trey.” She kissed him again. Only longer and with more heat and when she pulled back, his hands had somehow found their way beneath the fabric at the small of her back. “And when you’re ready for that dance, I’ll be the one by the punch bowl. Proudly wearing your pin.”

“Please welcome to the floor our last finalist of the evening.” The MC adjusted the mic and extended a dramatic hand to the entrance beneath the arbor. “The eighteen-time finalist and nine-time winner, Chiara Amalia Giovanna Ryo.”

The band struck up a smooth intro and Trey escorted his nonna to the floor, waiting until they passed Deidra and her partner, who had already taken their place, before giving her a showy spin that had her dress catching air.