Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (9 page)

Sara wasn’t a vicious person, but she was ready to tell Hunter and that dad to butt the hell out. And then ask for a clarification on the hues of
manly,
since last time she checked that wasn’t a color on any chart. It also wasn’t a word Cooper had used before. Unfortunately, the truth hit home and the truth was that, between her and Heather and the studio, her son was almost always surrounded by women.

“A pink car would suck,” Cooper mumbled. “I don’t want it to suck. And I don’t want it to look like a bug. I want it to be manly.”

Sara’s heart turned over. She knew that, although Garrett died before Cooper was old enough to actually miss having a dad around, he was smart enough to know what he was missing out on. Smart enough to understand what having a man in his life could mean. Days like today, Sara did too.

“I promise that tomorrow when you show up to Mighty Mites, you will have the best car in town,” Sara said, turning around to see if her pants were on fire for that big lie. “No pink. No carriage. We’ll make you a new one. Deal?”

He nodded and she ruffled his hair, sending drops of rain dotting the floor.

“Okay, now, go hang up your raincoat and grab a snack out of the back room. When you’re done, you can help me sign in the new kids.”

“Like be your assistant?” He didn’t sound as thrilled as Sara had hoped. Then she looked around and realized that her son was surrounded by pink, pink, and more pink, with tiaras as far as the eye could see. No wonder he thought today was going to suck.

“You can hold the clipboard.” Which was not pink. It was blue and gold—Chargers’s colors.

His eyes went wide. “How about the permanent marker?”

“If you think you can handle it.” Sara went for nonchalant, although there wasn’t a nonchalant bone in her body. Cooper and permanent markers were a bad combination. If Sara needed a reminder of just how bad, all she had to do was look at the neighbor’s cat, Avalanche, who was still wearing a blue Chargers’s lightning bolt down his side.

“Awesome.” Then he was gone, his blinking sneakers disappearing around the corner.

Sara was unbuttoning her raincoat when three more tutus and tiaras squeezed in the waiting room. She was cold, wet, and in desperate need of a nap, which was why, when her phone rang and she saw Heather’s face flash on the screen, she nearly wept.

“Thank God, are you okay?”

“Sara,” Heather’s voice exploded through the phone. “You’re never going to guess where I am.”

“I hope the parking lot out back since the Snowflake Princess auditions start in ten minutes.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “I thought they were next week, after the middle graders?”

“They were. But the fliers that went out to the schools said today, so please tell me you are walking through that door in two seconds.”

“Um,” was all she said, but it was enough to send Sara’s stomach into a pirouette.

“Heather,” Sara whispered, shifting so that she was facing the wall. “I really need you to be here today.”

“I am so sorry, but there’s no way I can make it. I’m actually on my way to New York. Can you believe it?” At the rate that her life was spiraling, Sara could. “They offered me the lead. As in permanent. On the condition that the chemistry between me and the male lead, who is totally hot by the way, is there.”

“And is it?” Sara asked, forcing a little smile in her voice because Heather was okay. She was safe and excited and this was a huge moment.

“Scorching. As in call the fire department. And I know that this puts you in a bad spot, but I’ll be back tomorrow night. They are literally flying me out to meet the rest of the cast and then back home.”

“Okay.” She could make it until tomorrow. It would be tough and exhausting and she’d have to master the pinewood derby car in under twelve hours, but she could handle it.

“But Sara,” Heather said and Sara pressed the phone harder to her ear. She tried to ignore the awful feeling in her chest, the one telling her that everything was about to change—again. “If I take the role, they’d need me back in New York on Monday. And it’s a two-year contract.”

That was when Sara panicked. It wasn’t the quiet, dignified kind of panic that she used to be able to pull off. It was a full-blown, chest-closing-in, tunnel-visioned kind of reaction that had her sitting down—on the floor.

“Breathe, Sara,” Heather said, her voice laced with concern. “I told them I had to think about it and talk to you. Monday is so soon and two years is a long time to be away. From you. And from Cooper.”

Sara forced herself to calm down. She didn’t want to ruin this for Heather. “What do you mean you told them,
you had to think about it
? You are taking this job, even if I put you on that plane myself.”

“But you and Cooper—”

“Will come visit. This is an incredible opportunity,” she forced out. Because really it was.

Heather couldn’t stay in St. Helena forever. She was too talented to teach dance her entire life and deserved the amazing life that every dancer dreamed of.

“I called Madison. She had a huge falling out with her studio and already gave notice. She’ll be free after March first and sounded excited about living in wine country,” Heather said. “She actually wants to head up the ballroom program. Which is perfect if you ask me, since you hate teaching ballroom.”

“I don’t hate teaching ballroom.” It just wasn’t her specialty. Sara was a classically trained ballerina with several years of contemporary and jazz under her belt. Plus, ballroom classes were always at night when she wanted to be home with Cooper. “Even though she would be the perfect answer, I can’t afford Madison.”

Madison was a two-time grand-champion ballroom dancer who was beyond talented and great with kids and seniors alike. Only she’d cost a small fortune to hire.

“You can when you get that five thousand from the Garden Society,” Heather reminded her. “And with all of the new kids the studio will get from the Gala exposure, you’ll be able to focus on day classes, and Madison can handle all of the ballroom so you can be with Cooper. This is a great opportunity for you and the studio.”

“It is, and you’re right.”

Hiring Madison would give Sara the freedom to be the kind of mom she’d moved to St. Helena to become and allow for the kind of life she wanted her son to grow up having.

The only thing she had to do was manage until March. Balancing her class load and Cooper would be hard enough, now that she had the Winter Garden Gala to add to her pile—and she couldn’t mess that up.

Then there was Trey. Whatever, if anything, that even meant.

“Thanks for calling Madison. I wouldn’t have thought of that, and,” Sara swallowed, “about the role, I’m really proud of you, Heather. Garrett would have been too.”

“Yeah,” Heather whispered. “It’s why I took the meeting, because I could hear him in my head lecturing me about going after my dreams, living life—”

“Balls out,” they both said and started laughing.

“God, I miss him,” Sara half choked, half laughed.

“Me too,” Heather said, then fell quiet.

It stretched on for so long that Sara could feel it pressing down on her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of what to say. It was Heather who broke the silence, but when she did, Sara wished they could go back to the quiet.

“I heard that Trey came to Swinging Singles last night and that you two had another moment. And you booked him for a private.”

“How did you hear that?”

“Small town, remember? Please, tell me you’re not going to ‘think’ yourself out of a great opportunity.”

Too late.

She had thought about it. Almost the entirety of last night was spent weighing the consequences of saying yes. Like, they probably would do a whole lot more than dance. And that scared her. Trey scared her. Which was why she hadn’t returned any of his calls.

He was sexy and gorgeous and so damn charming he brought up feelings that she hadn’t dealt with since Garrett’s death. He was also a notorious playboy.

“Before you tell me all of the reasons you should say no, picture his ass.” Heather paused and Sara laughed. “Still not convinced? Then four words. Lipstick. On. The. Face. And you were glowing, Sara. Glowing. I haven’t seen you look that happy since before Garrett died.”

“I know, that’s what scares me,” she admitted.

“Why? Because you’re attracted to a guy who makes you feel good?” Heather asked and Sara wanted to cry. “You’re young and a total catch, and it kills me to think that while I’m in New York, you’ll be in that big house, lonely and thinking about what could have been instead of what might be.”

“I’m not lonely.” Even as she said the words, Sara knew they were a lie. She went to bed early because it was easier than facing an empty house, and ate lunch at the studio since a table for one in a crowded restaurant was depressing. Sara had mastered being alone in a crowd of people.

Only she hadn’t felt alone with Trey. She’d felt alive.

Problem was—she wasn’t sure what Trey was looking for. Okay, she knew
what
he was looking for, she just didn’t think it included working around the complications of a single mom. Or the timeline of a vulnerable woman who was easing her way into the shallow end of the dating pool.

Heather’s voice softened. “You deserve to be happy, Sara. Really happy. I’m talking about the part of you that being a mom doesn’t fulfill. Garrett would have wanted that for you. I want that for you.”

Sara’s hand went to her ring finger. It was still such a shock to find it naked. But the debilitating ache that usually followed hadn’t appeared for months. It had disappeared around the same time that Sara realized love didn’t have to hurt. That she could still love her husband, honor what they had shared, and find happiness.

“Trey’s a gypsy,” Sara said softly. She toed off her sneakers and pulled her ballet slippers out from under the desk. “From what I understand, he doesn’t even have a place in town. He lives at his brother’s hotel when he visits, which isn’t often.”

“So he’s not good with permanent. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe he’ll be around long enough this visit for you to get your feet wet. Then poof, he’s gone and you’ve had your first fling.”

“Or my next heartbreak.” Wow, had she just said that?

“Not everything has to be considered in terms of forever.”

She laced up her shoes and stood. Heather was right.

For a girl who knew exactly what she wanted from the time she could walk, there hadn’t been room in Sara’s life for anything that didn’t have the potential of forever. There also hadn’t been room for a whole lot of fun. Something she needed right now.

Sara thought about how she felt those few times she’d seen Trey, and found herself wondering if she could go through with it. If she could get past the fear and forever-itis and just go for it.

She looked at her watch. “I gotta go start class, but congrats again, and thanks for being the best sister-in-law.”

“Right back at ya. Make sure to tell Cooper that I love him and I’ll be there for the race this weekend. And, Sara, I love you, so promise me that you’ll go for it.”

“Love you too.” Sara hung up and focused her attention on finding a sign-up sheet. If she couldn’t solve the chaos in her personal life, at least she could get a handle on her studio.

“Is it just me, or are you always wet when I’m around?” a man asked, and Sara froze as his voice, low and smooth, sent little tingles of awareness shooting through her entire body.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.
Man indeed.

“I take that as a yes.”

She let out a deep breath, braced herself for impact, and looked up. And good Lord, Trey got better looking every time she saw him. Not only was he giving off enough testosterone to cancel out all of the estrogen in the room, he could fill out a suit like nobody’s business. A dark-gray suit that made his deep-brown eyes seem even more intense, if that were possible.

“Trey,” she said, noticing that he too was wet. As in his hair was spiky with rain and his lips looked moist and delicious.

“I figured that since the line to your studio is down the street, and it’s like a tutu convention in the waiting room, that you can’t get lost right now.” Setting two to-go cups on the counter, he flashed his perfect white teeth her way, which, with the whole suit-and-wet-hair thing, did crazy things to her heart. “So I thought I’d bring the lost to you.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of crazy.”

She looked around the studio, and crazy didn’t even begin to describe the situation. There wasn’t a spare inch of space on the benches, and even the standing-room-only area was packed.

“I can see that.” Although his eyes were too busy staring at her mouth to even notice the chaos behind him. “Is it always like this?”

She swallowed—hard. It had never been like this. Ever. Even with Garrett it had been a steady build. But with Trey, she felt like she was one wink away from going up in flames.

“No, um, the Snowflake Princess auditions are today. Only, today is Thursday, and I have a Tiny-Tappers class starting. Which is why I scheduled the auditions for next week. But I made a typo, and my assistant, as of five minutes ago, is moving to New York, so that means I have to teach a pole-dancing class that is in the middle of the only open private slot—”

She stopped because he was smiling. At her.

“That’s why you’re here, right? About the private?”

“Actually,” he reached out and touched her hand, “I’m more interested in the private pole-dancing lesson.”

So was she, which was the only excuse she had for not moving her hand. She was too busy noticing that his were huge and rugged and really warm. Suddenly her entire body was warm and all she could think about were his hands—on her. And just going for it.

He cleared his throat and she snatched her hand back.

“Your private would be for ballroom. The pole-dancing class is reserved for AARP cardholders only. So unless you want to watch saggy—”

He held a hand up. “I’ll take ballroom with a beautiful lady, thank you.” Then the easygoing playboy faded, leaving behind something more real. He slid a cup across the counter, the heavenly aroma of cinnamon and pumpkin filling the air.